The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [88]
“My lord Mirryn?” Drwmigga said. “If you’d not mind, may Egriffa share your trencher?”
“I’d be honored, my lady,” Mirryn said.
Egriffa smiled and sat down next to him. She was a pleasant-looking lass, with pale hair, big blue eyes, and a small but full-lipped mouth. Unfortunately, she seemed to lack an intellect. Every time Mirryn spoke to her, she answered as briefly as possible, then giggled at some length. Now and then she would lay her fingertips upon her lips as if stuffing the giggle back in. Mirryn said less and less as the meal went on. When the ladies left the table and went up to their hall, Mirryn sighed in deep relief.
“You’re not going to marry that, are you?” Gerran said.
“Pray to every god I don’t.” Mirryn grabbed his goblet of mead from the table and drank off a long swallow. “I don’t care who her kin may be. I’m cursed glad now that I told Oth I’d camp with my men. This way I won’t have to face her with my breakfast.”
As soon as he decently could, Mirryn left the table with the excuse of making sure his men fared well. Gerran accompanied him out to the gates of the dun. Carrying a candle lantern, Salamander joined them. In a pool of dappled light they stood just out of the hearing of the night gatekeeper.
“What’s all this with Neb?” Gerran said. “Or can you tell me?”
“I promised him I’d keep most of this in confidence,” Salamander said. “Let’s just say he’s generally unhappy with his lack of progress in his apprenticeship.”
“I still don’t understand why he’d go off on his own.”
“I think he may have been entertaining the idea of finding another master of his craft.”
“Indeed?” Mirryn put in. “That’s a serious thing, isn’t it? The scribes’ guild must have rules and suchlike against it.”
“It most assuredly does,” Salamander said. “I truly shouldn’t tell you much more than that.”
“We won’t pry, don’t worry,” Gerran said. “Do you think he’ll bolt again?”
“I doubt it. If he does, Clae’s promised to come tell me. He’ll be sharing a bed with his brother during this stay. Oth’s put them in the broch itself, not in the servants’ quarters out by the barracks, thanks to Neb being a witness against Govvin. Which reminds me, Gerro. Why did you ask me to hold my tongue around Oth?”
“Because Branna told me to stay on guard when it comes to him. I’ll be bringing the matter of Solla’s inheritance to Prince Voran, not to the gwerbret.”
“I see. It’s usually a good idea to listen when Branna delivers one of her pronouncements. They may sound daft, mad, or just plain confused, but they contain truths.” Salamander yawned and shook his head. “Well, I’d best get off to bed, and doubtless you both want to do the same.”
“I’ll admit to being tired.” Gerran glanced at Mirryn. “What about you?”
Mirryn hesitated, appeared to be thinking something through, then shrugged. “I’d best leave before the city guards shut the gates.”
Mirryn strode off downhill to join the encampment outside the city walls, while Salamander headed off to the barracks. Gerran went back inside to drink with the prince and the gwerbret as courtesy demanded.
"So,” Neb said. "It gladdens my heart that we’ll get to spend a bit more time with each other while we’re here.”
"Mine, too,” Clae said. “It was decent of Oth to let me stay in the broch with you.” He glanced around the bedchamber. “It’s so quiet here, though, not like the barracks.”
“Think you’ll be able to sleep without all that snoring?”
“Oh, no doubt.” Clae grinned at him. “Being a page tires you out, what with my lord’s horses to tend and all that.”
They lay awake for some time that night, sharing a bed as they always had in their father’s house. Clae talked about the things he’d done and learned during the winter; Neb told him details of how the Westfolk lived and avoided the subject of his own experiences. Soon enough Clae fell asleep, but tired though he was, Neb stayed awake with humiliation for a bitter companion.
The worst of it, he decided, was the way Salamander