The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [84]
“Very well. I’d feel the same, were I you.” Dar looked over the warbands, assembled behind them. “Let’s leave most of the men here now, and just take a minimal escort up with us. I remember how much trouble Oth had trying to cram all the wedding guests into that dun. Mirryn, bring your men, and the banadar and I will take twenty-five of ours. Gerran, well, I guess your page will have to do for an escort at the moment. Oh, and Neb had better come with us.”
As they rode up to the gate at the base of the cliff, Gerran noticed Salamander tagging along uninvited after Neb. At the city gates, the guards raised a cry of “Prince Dar, Prince Dar!” and ushered them into the winding streets of the town. As the prince led his men up the long steep ride to the gwerbret’s dun, the townsfolk turned out to greet this welcome novelty of a royal visit with shouts and cheers.
Despite Gerran’s worries about the sort of reception he’d get in the dun itself, the gatekeeper welcomed him warmly along with the prince and his escort and Mirryn and his. As the men were dismounting in the ward, Lord Oth, the gray-bearded chamberlain, and Lord Blethry, the stout equerry, hurried out of the great hall to greet them, followed by a bevy of pages and grooms. Oth bowed low to Prince Daralanteriel, then to Mirryn and Gerran with one sweep of his arm that included them both.
“His grace Ridvar’s listening to witnesses in his chamber of justice, Your Highness,” Oth said to the prince. “A thousand apologies, but he couldn’t come out to greet you.”
“I quite understand,” Dar said. “Is it an important affair?”
“One of the local farmers has accused a neighbor of stealing his chickens.” Oth smiled briefly. “It may not sound like much of a trouble, but his grace has jurisdiction over every little thing that happens in his rhan.”
“Just as I have in mine, so I quite understand.”
“Then do come in, Your Highness, and partake of our hospitality, ” Oth continued. “Ah, here are the grooms to see to your horses. Lord Blethry, if you’ll ensure that our guests get somewhat to drink, I’ll sort out the matter of chambers.”
“My lord?” Mirryn stepped forward. “I’ll be making camp down in the meadow with my escort. I’m the captain of my father’s warband now, and that’s where my duty lies.”
“Oh.” Oth paused in surprise, then nodded. “Well and good, then, as you wish.”
As Oth bustled away, dispensing orders to the flock of pages, Gerran found himself remembering Branna’s strange remarks about this most punctilious of servitors. Once he would have dismissed them, but now that he knew about dweomer and the insights it gave those who could work it, he decided he’d best take the remarks seriously.
“Salamander? Mirryn?” he said. “Don’t mention Solla’s inheritance until Voran gets here.”
Salamander’s eyes widened. “Very well,” the gerthddyn said, “but may I ask why?”
“When we get somewhere private.”
The gerthddyn’s eyes grew wider, and his nose twitched as if he smelled the secret.
As they walked into the great hall, the gwerbret’s wife, Drwmigga, dressed in flowing blue, was just coming down the winding stone staircase. The flowered scarf of a married woman wrapped her raven-dark hair. Around her flocked her unmarried servingwomen, each with their hair caught back in a simple clasp.
Mirryn elbowed Gerran in the ribs and whispered. “That blonde lass there in the green dress. I think that’s Lady Egriffa.”
“And she’s the game your mother’s marked out for your hunt?”
“The very one. Should I go speak to her right now?”
“Wait till dinner, I’d say, lest you appear too eager.” Salamander broke into the conversation. “I see we have somewhat to celebrate. Drwmigga’s with child.”
“How can you tell?” Mirryn said.
“Dolt!” Gerran said. “Look at her kirtle. It’s tied up high.”
“Oh, I suppose you know everything, now that you’ve got a wife!” But Mirryn dutifully looked. “You’re right, I suppose.”
“Of course he’s right,” Salamander said. “She’s not got a waist anymore, and it gladdens my heart