The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [112]
“Good idea. My thanks.”
“We’ve got plenty of other troubles on our hands for now, for that matter. No doubt you’ll be well occupied this summer.”
“True spoken. Here, can you find out where Govvin is? I’m as sick as I can be of waiting around for that stinking, arrogant priest.”
“I spied upon him yesterday morn, and lo, he and his men were praying in their temple. I can’t believe he’s staying away, frankly. To refuse a direct summons to a gwerbretal malover goes beyond arrogance to rash stupidity.”
When Clae finished with Gerran’s horse, Gerran led him back to the stable himself. Clae took his brushes over to Salamander’s roan, tethered nearby, and began currying it down. Salamander was considering going back inside when a young page with Cengarn’s blazon on his dirty shirt came skipping up to them.
“Gerthddyn?” he said. “Lord Blethry wants to talk to you. He’s just over there.” He pointed to the end of the stable row, where, hands on hips, Blethry was standing in the shade of the stable wall.
“I’m on my way,” Salamander said, “though it looks as if he wants to scold, berate, and castigate me.”
The equerry, however, had something quite different in mind. “It’s about that scribe of Prince Dar’s,” Blethry said when Salamander joined him. “Is he daft?”
“At moments I can think of him no other way. What’s he done now?”
“Well, late last night it was, and I couldn’t sleep, what with worrying about everything.” Blethry paused to scowl in the general direction of Gerran, who was just coming out of the stable. “So I got up and left the broch for a bit of air. I came down here to take a look at one of the mares who’s due to foal, and as I was leaving the stables again, I looked up. Right on the roof of the main broch there’s Neb, standing with his arms in the air and not a stitch of clothing on, far as I could see by the moon’s light.”
Salamander groaned inwardly.
“So I hurried inside to speak to him about it,” Blethry went on, “but he’d already left the roof. What if our lady Drwmigga had seen him, eh?”
I’m sure she’s seen a naked man before, Salamander thought, considering she’s pregnant. Aloud he said, “True spoken. I’ll speak to Neb about it.”
“Good. He seems to be a friend of yours and all, which is why I’m bringing the matter to you.” Blethry hesitated. “But what was he doing up there?”
“Praying to the Star Gods, most likely.” Salamander pulled a useful lie out of the air. “Now that he’s a servitor of the Westfolk prince, he’s adopted their gods.”
Blethry slapped his forehead with the flat of his hand. “I should’ve thought of that,” he said. “I’ve heard the Westfolk calling on them, now that you mention it. Worms and slimes, I’m just so tired today.”
“No doubt, and you have my profound sympathy.”
“My thanks. Here, gerthddyn, how about giving us a tale in the great hall after dinner tonight? It’ll take everyone’s mind off things, like.”
“I’ll do just that, and I’ll make it a good one.”
Gerran had wandered off, and Clae had finished with Salamander’s horse. Salamander hailed the lad as he was coming out of the stable.
“A question for you,” Salamander said. “Did your brother leave your chamber last night?”
“He did,” Clae said. “I woke up just as he was coming back in. He told me he’d gone down to the privies, because he’d eaten somewhat that disagreed with him, and he didn’t want to stink the chamber up by using the pot.”
“Ah, I see.”
“It didn’t seem worth bothering you about right then, but I’m truly afraid he’s ill. It would gladden my heart if you’d go look in on him. He didn’t eat any breakfast this morning, and he looked sort of pale.”
As he walked away, Salamander scried for Neb and saw him lying on his bed in his chamber. Salamander hurried up the stairs in a crowd of anxious Wildfolk. He found the door unlocked and walked in without knocking. The yellow gnome darted in ahead of him and jumped onto the bed, where Neb was lying with his hands tucked under his head. He wore only a loin-wrap, and his semi-nakedness revealed