The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [72]
“I’d rather you were here,” she said at last, “because I love you, but I’m a warrior’s daughter as well as a warrior’s wife. I know full well that the Horsekin are going to start raiding again, and we’ve to build the dun and gather the warband to stop them.”
“So we do.” He perched on the edge of the bed, facing her.
“Besides, you’ll be happier in the saddle, riding out to settle important matters. This winter was awfully hard on you, shut up in the snows.”
“It was a cursed sight easier than most winters, because of you, I mean.”
“My thanks.” She smiled again, briefly. “But you’ve had too much time to think.”
“I have, truly. I suppose I should stop brooding about that battle. ”
“That’s the reason I want you to be out and about. It’s vexed you all winter, hasn’t it?”
“It has. I never should have turned on that Horsekin with the broken leg. My father’s killer—huh, he deserved what he got, but that other fellow? Ye gods, he couldn’t even stand!” With a shake of his head, Gerran tried to dismiss the memory. “It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I tell you the tale, either. The shame keeps coming back like a witch’s curse.”
“I honestly don’t understand why. He would have killed you if he could have.”
“But he couldn’t. That’s what makes all the difference.” Gerran reached over to pat her hand. “Don’t vex yourself about it, my love. I’ll get over it. But you’re right enough that I need somewhat to do.”
“I hope Cadryc will let Mirryn go with you. He really should take a look at Lady Egriffa.”
“Who?”
“One of Drwmigga’s serving women. She’s the second daughter of a tieryn, you see, and Galla thinks she might be a good match for Mirryn.”
“Then he’ll be going with us. Do you truly think that Cadryc can hold out if our Galla lays a siege?”
They shared a laugh.
Sure enough, that night at dinner Cadryc announced that when the time came, Mirryn and ten men of the warband would accompany Gerran on his ride north. Gerran would take his page, young Clae. Salamander volunteered to go as well.
“The spring is upon us, good tieryn,” Salamander said. “I’ve eaten more than enough of your food, and you’ve heard enough of my tales and chatter, so I shall be on my way when our Gerro rides north.”
Later that afternoon Gerran had a private word with Salamander. They met out by the stables, but the grooms were mucking out the stalls with Clae and Coryn to help them. Gerran had caught them persecuting young Ynedd again and decided they deserved the punishment. Salamander led the way down to the cleaner air near the dun wall.
“Much better!” Salamander pronounced. “I don’t know which was worse, the stench or the swarming flies. I take it you have somewhat to ask me.”
“Just that,” Gerran said. “How far away is Prince Dar’s alar?”
“Not very. They’ve reached Lord Samyc’s. Which reminds me. Would it be a wrong thing for me to tell them about that secret road through the forest? It would save much needed time.”
“I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Dar’s the overlord for all our lands now, and so in some sense he owns that road.”
“Ah, very good! I shall pass along the secret, then.”
Gerran paused, struck by Salamander’s remark. “Why much needed time?”
“Because the Wise One, Lady Dallandra, is vastly pregnant,” Salamander said. “The sooner they get here, the better.”
Mother’s saddle or no, Dallandra was having a hard time staying on horseback during the day’s march. Whenever their route ran uphill, she would cling shamelessly to the cantle with one hand and the pommel with the other and pray to whatever goddess came to mind first. Once they reached the tieryn’s secret road, however, the traveling became a little easier. Around noon on their second day on the road, they came free of the forest. Dallandra saw the Red Wolf dun from a distance, its tower a dark mark just cutting into the horizon.
“There it is,” she told Pir. “Probably some five miles away.”
Pir smiled and nodded, but, as usual, said nothing.
As they plodded onward, Dallandra slowly became aware of an ache in her back. It’s this wretched sidesaddle, she thought.