The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [65]
‘How come you’re still here?’ he asked. ‘I thought you’d be over at the Westfolk tents.’
‘Dev wanted to tell his people that I was coming first,’ Morwen said. ‘Nevyn told me he’d take Evan and me over in a little while.’
‘I see.’ Gwairyc gestured at the view. ‘It’s more than a little strange, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ Morwen said. ‘I heard Dev and his friends talk about the grass, when they came to our village, I mean, but I never knew how vast it is! It chills my heart, somehow.’
‘You can always ride back with us when we leave here.’
‘My thanks, but ride back to what? I’d have to leave Evan, and I’d be twice cursed before I’d go back to my wretched brother. It would have to be the Temple of the Moon, and truly, I don’t know if I could bear being shut away like that for my whole life.’
‘Well, mayhap you’ll get used to the life out here.’
‘So I can hope.’ She pushed out a brave little smile. ‘And no doubt I can.’
Back at the encampment, Wffyn’s men were busily raising tents and hauling the canvas mule-packs into them. Nevyn owned a tent, too, a shabby affair of much-mended canvas and ill-assorted sticks. It would protect their trove of herbs and other medicinals if it rained, but it wouldn’t keep one man dry, much less two of them.
‘You know, my lord,’ Gwairyc said, ‘we’ve done well this summer. Mayhap you could buy some new canvas if we go to a proper town when we leave here, one where we can find someone to lash a tent together, that is.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Nevyn said. ‘Don’t bother to set the old one up here. We’ll be sheltering with my friend Aderyn in his tent among the Westfolk.’
‘That gladdens my heart. I’ve slept wet many a time on campaign, but I can’t say I liked it. Should I tether our stock over with theirs, too?’
‘Just that. You know, I’m pleased to hear you say “we” in that casual way. I’ve been wondering if one morning I’d look around and find you gone.’
‘What? I promised the king I’d be at your beck, didn’t I? And truly, riding around like this, it’s not much worse than being with the army.’
‘Not much, eh?’ Nevyn smiled briefly.
‘And you know—’ Gwairyc paused, surprised at his own thoughts. ‘In a way, my lord, you’ve become a friend of mine.’
‘Truly? I never thought I’d hear you say that.’
‘No more did I, when we first left Dun Deverry. You know, it doesn’t pay to make friends in a warband. You tend to lose them sudden-like, if you take my meaning. And the other lords at court—huh. They might flatter you to your face, but they’d put a dagger in your back if they could. But truly, it’s not a bad thing, having a friend.’
‘Most assuredly it’s not.’ Nevyn’s smile grew broader. ‘After all, we rode all this way so I could visit one of mine.’
Gwairyc met this friend of Nevyn’s not long after. Devaberiel returned on foot to collect Morwen and Evan. Leading their horses and mule, Gwairyc and Nevyn followed them over to the Westfolk camp. Waiting for them about halfway between the encampments were two men. One, a short, slender Deverry man, had deep set dark eyes, oddly large for his face, and grey hair that swept back from his temple in two peaks. He stood with his shoulders slightly hunched, allowing his arms to dangle at his sides. All in all, he reminded Gwairyc strongly of an owl. Nevyn tossed Gwairyc the reins of the horse he’d been leading and hurried to meet him.
‘Aderyn!’ he called out. ‘Ye gods, it’s good to see you.’
‘And it’s good to see you,’ Aderyn answered, smiling. ‘It’s been too long.’
They turned and began walking towards the camp, talking all the while so rapidly that Gwairyc had little idea of what they might be saying. The other fellow came forward and gave Gwairyc a friendly smile. At first Gwairyc thought him one of the Westfolk, because he had hair as pale as moonlight, but although his ears had a definite point to them, they were human-sized. His eyes were human as well, despite their dark violet colour. A half-breed, most likely, Gwairyc thought.
‘I’m Loddlaen,’ he said,