The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [147]
“My sincere thanks. We need to know what the wretched scum are up to, because I have an ally in the northwest.” Dar glanced at Calonderiel. “One we need to warn at the very least.”
“True spoken,” Calonderiel said. “Cerr Cawnen.”
"We’ll be leaving on the morrow,” Mic said. "I’ve made all the arrangements with Aethel.”
"Splendid!” Berwynna said. “If Cerr Cawnen’s as interesting as Lin Serr, I can hardly wait to see it.”
PART III
THE NORTHLANDS SUMMER, 1160
Each element of the four—Fire, Air, Water, and Earth— has its particular virtues and its vices. Thus the Mountain Folk are steadfast yet grasping, the Westfolk clever yet cold to those unlike them. Only in the Children of Aethyr do all the elements mix. This means that while our race can serve the Light to a greater degree than most, we also have the greatest propensity of all for furthering the Darkness.
—The Secret Book of Cadwallon the Druid
LORD MIRRYN LED HIS MEN back from Cengarn on a day washed with summer rain. Dallandra was sitting in the women’s hall, watching Solla and Adranna spinning wool with Branna’s device, when she heard the gatekeeper’s horn, a joyous blast of notes. Solla let go of the spinner’s handle and jumped up to rush to the window. She laid both hands on the sill and looked out, then turned back, her face pale and her eyes wide.
“Mirro and the men are in the ward,” she said, “but not my lord, and Daumyr’s got a cut on his face.”
Dallandra got to her feet and hurried over to catch Solla’s hand. Solla was trembling, and she looked up at Dallandra with the eyes of a frightened child.
“Let’s go down,” Dallandra said. “There will be messages, but I’m sure as I can be that Gerran’s safe and well.”
Since Salamander had already told her the news, Dallandra had solid grounds for that certainty, not that she could tell Solla. Hand in hand they hurried down the stairs and reached the great hall just as Mirryn came striding in. He paused halfway to the table of honor and bowed to the two women.
“Gerro’s safe in Cengarn, Solla,” Mirryn called out. “He’s injured, truly, but it’s not much as long as he doesn’t ride and suchlike. ”
Solla smiled and laid her free hand over her heart as if bidding it to be still. The color in her cheeks slowly returned to a normal pink from pale. She squeezed Dallandra’s hand, then let it go with a whispered, “My thanks.”
“What’s all this, lad?” At the table of honor Cadryc got to his feet. “Trouble?”
“There was, Your Grace.” Mirryn reached inside his shirt and brought out two silver message tubes. “Horsekin raiders on the border.” Mirryn allowed himself a brief smile. “They’ve been dealt with.”
The Red Wolf men, followed by six Westfolk archers, were filing into the hall. Daumyr, who indeed had a long scabbing cut on one cheek, bowed to the tieryn. “Begging Your Grace’s pardon and all for interrupting,” Daumyr said, “but you should know that our captain acquitted himself cursed well on the field. Prince Dar commended him.”
Cadryc grinned, beaming like the smile in the full moon. “That’s my lad!” He glanced around and saw a servant lass. “Mead all round, lass! Bring it fast!”
The lass scurried off to do his bidding. Mirryn handed Solla the messages. “The one with your brother’s seal is for you alone,” Mirryn said. “Interesting things happened in Dun Cengarn.”
Since Dallandra already knew everything in those messages and more, she left the tieryn’s household to their celebration and went back upstairs to her chamber. Judging by the ache in her breasts, she judged that Dari was due for a feeding. Sure enough, she came in to see Sidro carrying a squalling baby as she walked back and forth, singing in a vain effort to distract Dari from her hunger.
“Here’s your mama, little one,” Sidro said. “Just in time.”
Dallandra sat down in the chair by the window, pulled up her tunic, and took the baby, who fastened herself onto the nearest nipple with no