The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [115]
“I’ll get dressed, then.” Neb stood up and grabbed his shirt from the end of the bed. “Where is the prince?”
“He says to meet him up in the chamber of justice.”
“Very well. Run and tell him that I’m on my way.”
Everyone in the dun, of course, wanted to know what the princes were saying to each other, but since the servants had been caught eavesdropping on the malover concerning Lord Oth’s theft, they were afraid to listen at the door again. Gerran and Salamander waited in the great hall with the crowd. At last, when the sun hovered low in the western sky, Prince Daralanteriel came down the stone staircase. Gerran and Salamander hurried over to meet him at the foot.
“Where’s Neb?” Salamander said, glancing around.
“Writing up his notes,” Dar said. “Here, you two, come down to the meadow with me. We discussed a good many other things, and I’d like your opinion and Cal’s, too.”
Since a prince couldn’t be seen walking through the streets like an ordinary man, Clae and two of the dun’s pages rushed to the stables to saddle horses. While Gerran and Salamander waited with Dar, standing out in the ward, Dar told them some of what had transpired in council.
“Ridvar’s furious with the way Govvin’s ignoring him. He’s decided to drag him out of his wretched temple if he won’t come voluntarily, so he’s sending his captain and some twenty-five men to fetch him.”
“And if Govvin won’t come out?” Salamander said. “Will they lay siege to the place? Twenty-five men doesn’t seem like enough.”
“Voran’s taking twenty from his warband and going with them. After all, the prince has that letter from the high priest in Dun Deverry to deliver. Besides, his men are getting restless, camping in the meadow with naught to do.”
“That should be enough men to make Govvin think about things.” Gerran joined in. “If naught else, they can hold his blasted white cows hostage.”
Daralanteriel and Salamander both laughed.
“I’m minded to offer to send some archers along,” Dar went on. “Voran and I swore a pact of mutual aid in time of war this afternoon. This isn’t a war, but it’d be a good gesture, I think, to offer aid. Here, Gerran, as my vassal, will you command the men if I send them? I want Cal to stay with me. The silver dragon’s been off scouting for Horsekin up in the Northlands, and he might meet us here. Cal has to hear his report if he does.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Gerran said. “May I take Mirryn and the Red Wolf men with me? Mirryn needs to get used to leading the warband.”
“By all means. This will be a good opportunity for him to do just that. After all, nothing much is going to happen.” Dar suddenly grinned. “And take your silver dagger. Cal tells me he’s been beating everyone in camp at dice. I don’t want my warband impoverished.”
“I’ll do that, Your Highness.” Gerran turned to Salamander and quirked an eyebrow.
“Oh, I shan’t be coming with you,” Salamander said. “I’ve got to play shepherd to our sheepish Neb.”
“What? Has he gotten himself into trouble again?”
“Of a sort.” Salamander smiled vaguely, then continued. “Besides, the lad’s an important witness against Govvin. We can’t have him riding all over the countryside.”
On the morrow, the warbands assembled in Cengarn’s ward. Gerran watched as Mirryn gave orders to the Red Wolf men about their line of march. The men certainly obeyed him, but in their own time. That and the easy way they sat in their saddles made Gerran wonder if they respected their captain as much as they liked him. He doubted it. When Gerran walked down the line, they sat up straight and brought their horses to the ready with a slight tug on the reins. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Mirryn watching with an utterly impassive face—but watching.
The first night out, the expedition camped at the edge of Ridvar’s demesne, about halfway to the temple. Gerran and Mirryn set up their tents near the Red Wolf’s warband, but they ate with Prince Voran and his captain,