The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [87]
‘Master,’ he said, ‘I want to ask you somewhat.’
‘Do you?’ Wffyn said. ‘Well, ask away.’
Tirro took a deep breath. His eyes shone—it was the first time she’d ever seen him look truly happy, Morwen realized. ‘I want to stay here with the Westfolk,’ Tirro said. ‘I spoke with Loddlaen about it, and he said I could. It will save Da a fair bit of coin if I never come back, and he won’t mind.’
‘Well, by the gods!’ Wffyn said with a laugh. ‘This is a bolt from a clear sky, lad.’ He glanced at Loddlaen. ‘Do you truly think your father would allow him to stay?’
‘I do, sir.’ Loddlaen stepped forward. ‘There’s one good thing about living as we do out here. We always have room for another person. Tirro’s been truly unhappy in Cerrmor, and he told me that he’d got into some sort of trouble, but out here, in the wild country, he would –’
‘Some sort of trouble?’ Gwairyc turned to Tirro. ‘Did you tell him what?’
Tirro went dead-pale.
‘I see you didn’t,’ Gwairyc said. ‘Here, Loddlaen, this is a horse you don’t want running with your herd. He was thrown out of Cerrmor for raping a little lass, no more than six summers old, she was.’
‘I did not rape her!’ Tirro burst out. ‘I truly loved Mella, and she loved me. I never would have hurt her.’ He froze for a long moment, then winced and clasped both hands over his mouth, as if he could shove the confession back in.
For a moment Morwen feared that she was going to vomit and disgrace herself. ‘You horrible foul swine,’ she said. ‘You disgusting lump of-’ Words failed. She grabbed Ebañy, picked up him, and stepped back a few paces to put distance twixt him and the creature she once had pitied.
Tirro turned to Loddlaen and held out both hands, but he could say nothing, apparently, judging from the way he gulped for air.
‘You’ve got children in your alar,’ Gwairyc continued. ‘Do you truly want this piss-poor excuse for a man riding with you?’
‘I don’t.’ Loddlaen was very nearly whispering. ‘You have my thanks, Gwarro. I had no idea.’
Tirro spun around and raised balled fists at Gwairyc. ‘I hate you,’ Tirro burst out. ‘I’ll hate you forever for this.’
‘Will you now?’ Gwairyc hooked his thumbs in his belt and looked the lad over. ‘Am I supposed to be frightened by that?’
Tirro’s face turned dark red. ‘You wait,’ he snarled. ‘I’ll get you for this. I swear I will.’
Gwairyc laughed. Tirro spun on his heel and took one stride as if he were planning to break into a run, but he nearly collided with Wffyn. He began to cry, moist sobs so loud, so violent, that he could barely stand upright.
‘Oh ye gods,’ Gwairyc said wearily. ‘I should have slit your throat and thrown you out for the ravens. You snivelling little coward!’
At last Tirro managed to control his sobs and haul himself upright. Panting for breath, he set his hands on his hips. ‘Sneer all you want,’ he said between gasps. ‘I’ll get you for this one fine day. I swear it. I shall have my revenge.’
‘Such fine words! There’s green snot all over your lip, by the by.’
Morwen burst out laughing, a shrill little cackle of mockery. Tirro began to sob, his skinny little face so pale that she thought he might faint, but Wffyn grabbed him by one arm.
‘Come along, you,’ Wffyn said. ‘It’s time to ride to Cerrmor. That ship bound for Bardek will be waiting for you.’
Tirro pulled his arm free, shook himself, and tried to muster a haughty expression. For a moment the expression held, but only for a moment, before he began to weep again. Wffyn hauled him off, still sobbing. No one spoke until they were out of earshot.
‘In a way,’ Loddlaen said, ‘I feel sorry for him.’
‘How could you?’ Morwen snapped.
‘Well, he’s another human being, isn’t he?’ Loddlaen hesitated, thinking. ‘Some evil thing must have made him the way he is.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’ Gwairyc’s eyes