The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [27]
‘Well and good, then,’ Casyl looked into the stone again and smiled. ‘It’s passing strange. Just looking at this gem, just holding it—I’ve never felt like this before. It brings peace, but a peace that’s alive, not like dropping off to sleep or suchlike.’ Casyl laid a fingertip gently on the stone. ‘Is there anything I should do to tend it?’
‘There’s not, but the keeping of it secret and the honouring of it.’
‘A marvel indeed. Here, why would you give me such a thing?’
‘Because you’re the king, and the king is the shield of his people. Through you I can help bring them safety.’
Casyl nodded, turning solemn, staring into the opal’s depths for many a long moment. Finally he looked up. ‘Come now, good Nevyn. Surely you’ll let me give you a good price for this stone.’
‘I won’t, your highness. The dweomer asks no price for its aid to good men. It’s a gift to you and the kingdom.’
‘Then you shall have a gift in return.’ Casyl grinned, abruptly boyish. ‘Anything in my kingdom you desire is yours. Well, except my wife.’ He laughed aloud. ‘I’ve never had such a splendid gem before! Name what you desire, good Nevyn—I truly mean it, anything at all.’
Olnadd’s right, Nevyn thought. The king does like the grand gesture.
‘Fine horses, other jewels, gold, land,’ Casyl went on. ‘Have you ever desired a vast demesne? Here, the tieryn of Buccbrael has just died, and he has no heir but a daughter. Shall I apportion his lands and the lass to you?’
‘Your highness, I honour your generosity, but my craft leaves me no time for ruling lands and marrying young wives. I want nothing at all. Your gratitude is the greatest reward an old man’s heart could have.’
‘Oh, but there must be somewhat. Here, it would be dishonourable of me to let you go away empty-handed. How can I be dishonourable to the man who’s given me the very jewel of honour’s soul?’
Nevyn was about to make another self-deprecating reply when he felt a cold touch of dweomer-warning down his back. He knew in the strange wordless way of the dweomer that there was something he was supposed to have from Casyl.
‘Your highness, I’m most touched and overwhelmed. May I think about this for a bit? A king’s boon is too rare and splendid to be spent upon a whim.’
‘True spoken. Think on this boon carefully, and—’ Casyl paused, thinking. ‘In three days, when the sun’s marking out the same hour, I shall receive you in the great hall. Come to me then.’
‘My humble thanks.’ Nevyn bowed to him. ‘Done, then.’
‘Splendid! Now, let’s go down to the great hall. Let me give you a goblet of mead to accompany my thanks.’
‘My thanks, your highness, but I’d prefer dark ale.’
Before they left the private chamber, Nevyn taught Casyl how to wrap up the opal in its silks. Even though he’d bound the stone over to the king, he preserved one link back to himself, so that he could tell if the stone should somehow be endangered. He had no desire to see all his hard work wasted.
The king personally escorted Nevyn to the great hall and sat him down at the honour table. A young page brought the ale, but Casyl himself filled Nevyn’s tankard. As he sipped the good strong brew, Nevyn was aware that every single man and most of the women in the hall had stopped whatever they were doing to stare at him, this shabby old man that the king treated like a long-lost grandfather. When the time came for him to leave, Nevyn could feel their gazes following him the entire way out of the hall. Walking outside into the cool of late afternoon made him feel as if he were tossing aside a burden, the weight of so much