The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [71]
The Host drifts to and fro.”
With a shudder he left the gate and went inside to comfort his weeping wife. He would have given up his prosperous steading and everything he owned to have his eldest lad back, but he knew in his heart that the giving would be futile. His worst fear had come to pass. His son was the price of Evandar’s boons.
PART II
THE NORTHLANDS SPRING, 1160
All matter be naught but a concatenation of force, even that which makes what we call our bodies, but in some matter the forms be more stable than in others, depending upon the proportions of the Five Elements in each.
—The Secret Book of Cadwallon the Druid
ON A GLORIOUS SPRING AFTERNOON, a pair of couriers arrived at the Red Wolf dun, bearing letters from Prince Daralanteriel. The letters told his honored vassal, Tieryn Cadryc, that he was making a progress through his lands along their eastern border.
“That’s our western border.” Lady Solla glanced up from the letter. “Or wait! We’re inside the prince’s rhan now, so I suppose we’re on his eastern border ourselves.”
“So we are.” Cadryc paused for a sip of ale, as if he needed to wash this thought down for the digesting. “Um, do go on, my lady.”
Solla cleared her throat and resumed reading. “We shall be stopping at Lord Samyc’s dun for a brief visit before proceeding to yours. We hope and trust that you, your clan, and your vassals have survived the winter in good health. Yours in high regard, Prince Daralanteriel of the Westlands, heir to the Seven Cities and the Vale of Roses.”
“Must have been a splendid place, his rhan,” Cadryc said with a sigh, “before the accursed Horsekin burnt the lot. Well, one of these days maybe we’ll see about getting it back for him, eh?”
“It’s a pretty thought, Your Grace,” Solla said. “Shall I write your answer now?”
“Let me think on it a bit, though I suppose I don’t need to say much, eh?”
“Probably not.” Solla rose with a curtsy. “Well and good, then, Your Grace. I’ll be in the women’s hall.”
Yet another pair of speeded couriers arrived some days later, Deverry men, this time, with a letter from Prince Voran, inquiring politely if Tieryn Cadryc had heard anything of his overlord’s plans. He had also sent along a sealed letter for Daralanteriel on the off chance that Cadryc would see him first. Unfortunately, Prince Dar’s couriers had left by then, but at least Cadryc could tell the messengers that Prince Daralanteriel was riding north. Voran had sent the message from Pren Cludan, where he was visiting its tieryn on his way to Cengarn. On the morrow his messengers left with a letter from Cadryc to rejoin their prince.
It was some days later, when Gerran was sitting with the tieryn at the table of honor, that Cadryc brought up the subject of the prince’s coming visit to Cengarn.
“Now, I’ve been thinking, Gerro,” Cadryc said. “You’d best ride with our overlord when he heads north. You need to go to Cengarn yourself to ask about that inheritance. Ridvar never gave you a dowry, the mingy little bastard, so he’s got no reason to withhold it.”
“And what will Ridvar say when I turn up at his gates?” Gerran said. “Will he even let me in?”
“I owe him one last set of dues. It’s the scot to settle my breaking free of his overlordship. If you’re delivering it, he’ll have to treat you honorably.”
“True spoken. You know, Your Grace, an odd thing: I hate to leave Solla now that she’s with child.”
“Oh, it’s best to let the womenfolk handle these things on their own. They know all about it, eh? We don’t. Besides, my wife tells me that your lady won’t be delivered for a fair many months yet.”
Gerran was inclined to argue further, but he suspected that to do so would be unmanly in the extreme. Late that afternoon, when he and Solla got a chance to speak privately in their chamber, he asked her outright if she’d be distressed if he were to leave. She considered the question while she arranged a couple of pillows against the headboard of their bed. She kicked off her clogs, then climbed up and sat, leaning against the pillows and stretching her legs comfortably