Bristling Wood (31 page)

Hunkered down in the middle of the field, the lords were parleying, Aegwyc with ten of his men for an escort, Graemyn with ten of his, one of whom, was Rhodry. Since he was the man who’d killed Aegwyc’s brother, he had to be there to admit it if the lord demanded. He profoundly hoped that he wouldn’t, even though Graemyn assured him that he would pay the lwdd himself. So far Graemyn had had little chance to say anything, because Benoic was doing most of the talking.

“So it’s settled then?” Benoic said at last

“It is.” Aegwyc sounded very tired, “I’ll abide by the high king’s arbitration—provided I feel it’s fairly run.”

“And I’ll do the same,” Graemyn broke in before Benoic could agree for him. “I swear it on. the honor of my clan.”

“And I on mine.” With a sigh, Aegwyc rose, staring past them to the full army. Rhodry supposed that he was counting up the odds against the few men, he could muster. “Send me a herald when the king’s men arrive.”

“I will.” Benoic got to his feet and waved the rest of the men up. “You have my hand on that.”

Solemnly they shook hands. For a moment Aegwyc lingered, looking over the ten men around the tieryn. He would know that one of them had to be his brother’s killer, and he looked each one full in the face, pausing a little longer when he came to Rhodry. Rhodry looked boldly back and saw the lord’s mouth tighten in bitterness. There was only one reason that a silver dagger would be part of this parley, after all. With a sudden wrench Aegwyc turned and led his men away. Rhodry let out his breath in a long sigh of relief.

“Ah, you killed the bastard fairly, silver dagger,” Benoic said.

“So I did, but still, it’s a hard thing to look a man’s kin in the face when you’ve brought him his Wyrd.”

As he mounted his horse for the ride back to camp, Rhodry had the feeling that someone was staring at him. He twisted in the saddle to look, but everyone around him, was busy mounting up. No one would be staring at me, anyway, he thought, unless Aegwyc can send the evil eye from far away.

Yet the feeling persisted for a moment before it faded. During the long ride back to Graemyn’s dun, he would feel it every now and then, that someone, somehow, and for some strange reason, was spying on him.

“I’m cursed glad to see your arm out of that sling,” Nedd remarked.

“So am I,” Perryn said.

He picked up a leather ball, hard-packed with straw, and began squeezing it repeatedly to exercise his hand. Soon he would have to start working his arm, too, but it ached so much that he wanted to wait a day or so. Nedd paced back and forth across the small bedchamber and watched with a worried frown.

“Will that heal up properly?” he said.

“Don’t know yet. I never was much good with a sword anyway. It’s not like I’ve got fine-honed skills to lose.”

“Well, the war’s over, if you ask me. Aegwyc can’t cause much trouble. His brother bled the demesne white for his war with Graemyn.”

“So is our uncle going to pull out?”

“Not him. He’s having a fine time bullying Graemyn and doing his talking for him. But I know it aches your heart to be shut up inside a dun like this. You could just ride on if you like.”

“My thanks, but I’ll stay. Just in case . . . oh, ah, er, well, somewhat happens.”

“Even if the fighting did break out again, you wouldn’t be able to join us with your arm so weak.”

“I know. Not the point, you see.”

“And what is the point?”

“Oh, er, ah, Jill.”

“What? You’re daft! Rhodry could cut you into shreds, and I mean no insult, because he could do the same to me—easily.”

“No reason it has to come to an open fight, is there?”

“Oh, none at all. There’s no reason that the sun has to rise every morning, either, but somehow it always does.”

His hands on his hips, Nedd considered Perryn as if he were thinking of drowning him.

“I wager I can get Jill away from him,” Perryn said.

“Of course. That’s why I’m so blasted worried. Ye gods, I’ve never known a man with your luck for the lasses. How do you do it, anyway?”

“Just smile at them a lot and flatter them. It can’t be any different than what most men do.”

“Indeed? It’s never worked that well for me.”

“Oh, you’re probably not smiling the right way. You’ve got to . . . oh, er, let some warmth flow out with it. Easy, once you get the knack.”

“Then you’ll have to tell me how. But here, if you lay a snare for Jill, you’ll likely catch a wolf in it.”

“The wolf’s going to be following my beloved cousin’s orders and riding with him all over Cerrgonney.”

“I can’t do that. It’s dishonorable.”

“What about all those times I lied to our uncle for your sake? That was dishonorable, too.”

“So it was. Do you want a night in Jill’s bed as badly as all this?”

“I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I do her.”

“Ah, curse you, you bastard! Well and good, then. Rhodry and I will find somewhere to ride together.”

“My thanks, cousin. My most humble thanks.”

They had a long wait ahead of them while the speeded courier traveled the two hundred-odd miles to Dun Deverry. Although he could buy a swift passage on one of the many barges that sailed down from the mountain mines on the Camyn Yraen, he would have to ride back. In other parts of the kingdom, of course, there would have been local gwerbrets to bear their appeal, but the various gwerbrets who had once ruled in Cerrgonney warred so incessantly among themselves that King Maryn the Second had abolished the rank in the summer of 962, After a bloody rebellion, his son, Casyl the Second, made the decree of abolishment stick in 984. From then on, the kings personally took the fealty of every Cerrgonney lord and judged the various squabbles among them.

During the wait, Perryn stalked Jill, but from a wary distance, always watching for those rare times when Rhodry left her alone. The moments were hard to catch, because she was doing her best to avoid him. Since she was the first woman who’d ever resisted his strange appeal, he was puzzled, but the resistance only made her the more desirable. Finally his chance came to make his move. At sunset on the tenth day, Graemyn’s courier returned, with the news that the king would most graciously take this matter under his regal judgment. In fact, a herald and a legal councillor were coming directly behind him on the road.

“Splendid!” Benoic said. “Now, here, Graemyn, you’ve got to send an honor guard along to meet them.”

“I was just about to say exactly that. If one of my noble allies would care to take his warband on this errand, I’d be most grateful.”

Perryn shot Nedd a pointed glance. Nedd sighed.

“I’ll do it gladly, Your Grace,” Nedd said. “I have six men left as well as my silver dagger. Will that be the proper size for the escort?’

“Exactly right. If the warband’s too large, Aegwyc might claim intimidation. My thanks, Lord Nedd.”

Nedd scowled Perryn’s way with a face as sour as if he’d bitten into a Bardek citron. Perryn merely smiled in return.

“Well, my love, we’ll be riding out at dawn.”

Jill went cold with fear.

“Oh here, what’s so wrong?” Rhodry went on. “We won’t be in the slightest danger.”

“I know.” She found it very hard to speak. “It’s just that we’ve been apart so much.”

“I know, but I’ve got plenty of battle loot, and the reward from Tieryn Graemyn, so once this hire’s over, we’ll settle into a decent inn for a while.”

With a nod, she turned away, tempted to tell him the truth, that she was afraid of being left in the same dun as Perryn, but the truth might lead to bloodshed. Although she would have been pleased by the sight of Perryn lying dead, his kin would only cut Rhodry down in turn. He put his arms around her and drew her close.

“I’ll be back soon, my love.”

“I hope so.” She reached up and kissed him. “Rhoddo, oh, Rhoddo, I love you more than I love my life.”

As it turned out, the warband left a good hour after dawn, because Nedd and his men could never leave a place simply and easily. When they were finally on their way, Jill stood at the gates for a long time, wishing she could ride with them, feeling the dweomer cold run down her back in warning. When she turned she found Perryn watching her. She brushed past him without so much as a “good morrow” and hurried to the safe company of Lady Camma and her serving women. All day she avoided him and that night she barred her chamber door from the inside.

On the morrow, however, Perryn caught her alone. Jill had gone down to the stables to tend Sunrise, as she never left him to the slipshod attentions of stableboys. She was just leading him back to his clean stall when Perryn strolled over.

“Good morrow,” he said. “I was thinking of going riding. Won’t you come with me?”

“I won’t, my lord.”

“Please don’t call me ‘lord’ all the time.”

Then he smiled his warm bewitchment, coiling round her heart.

“I love you, Jill.”

“I don’t give a pig’s fart. Leave me alone!”

When she stepped back, she found herself against the stall door. With another smile, he laid his hand on her cheek, a touch that flooded her with warmth. Dweomer, she thought, it has to be dweomer. When he kissed her, she knew in a nightmarish way that she was weakening, that she was sorely tempted to betray Rhodry for this skinny, daft, nondescript man.

“We could ride into the meadow,” he whispered. “It’s lovely out in the sun.”

His words—the very rational act of speaking—broke the spell. She shoved him so hard that he nearly fell and twisted free.

“Leave me alone!” she snarled. “Love me all you want, but I belong to Rhodry.”

As soon as she was back in the great hall, her fear turned to hatred, a blind murderous thing because he’d made her feel helpless, her, who could fight with the best of men and fend for herself on the long road. If she could have murdered him and escaped scot-free, she would have. All day her fury grew as she watched him stalk her. Finally, early in the evening she noticed that he’d left the hall. A servant told her that he’d gone to bed because his wound was bothering him. Good, she thought, may it burn like fire! As she sipped a last tankard of ale in the company of the other women, she barely listened to their talk. She would have to do something about Lord Perryn, she decided, and then finally thought of the obvious place to turn for help. Nevyn. Of course! He’d understand, he’d tell her what to do. She got a candle lantern, then went up to her chamber. Using the candle flame, she could contact him, wherever he might be.

She went into the chamber, set the lantern down, then barred the door. As she turned round, she saw Perryn, sitting so quietly in the curve of the wall that she’d never noticed him, her mind full of dweomer thought. When she swore at him, he grinned at her, but it was only an ordinary sort of triumphant smile.

“Get out! Get out right now, or I’ll throw you out bodily.”

“What a nasty tongue you have, my love.”

“Don’t you call me that.”

“Jill, please.” He gave her one of those entrancing smiles. “Let me stay with you tonight.”

“I won’t.” But she heard her voice waver.

Smiling, always smiling, he walked toward her. She felt mead-muddled, her thoughts hard to form, harder yet to voice, and she tried to move away, she staggered. He caught her by the shoulders, then kissed her, his mouth so warm and inviting on hers that she returned the kiss before she could stop herself. Her body was as out of control as a river in full spate. When he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again, she wondered if she’d ever truly wanted a man before or merely been like a young lass, flirting without even knowing what she’s offering.

“You know you want me to stay,” he whispered. “I’ll leave early. No one has to know or see a thing.”

When she forced herself to think of Rhodry, she had just enough strength to shove him away, but he caught her wrists and pulled her back. Although she struggled, her knees seemed to have turned to lead and her arms to water. Still with his ensorceling smile, he pulled her back and kissed her. She felt herself give in with one last muddled thought that Rhodry would never have to know. The pleasure she felt came from her surrender as much as his caresses. She could hardly let go of him long enough for them to get into bed, and once they were lying down, she was trembling. Yet Perryn himself was in no hurry, kissing her, caressing her, taking off their clothing one piece at a time, then caressing her for a while more. When he finally lost his patient reserve, his passion for her was frightening. She could only surrender to her own, let it match his and carry her where it willed.

Afterward, she lay in his arms and clung to him while the candlelight cast a pale, dancing glow on a world gone strange. The stone walls seemed alive, swelling and shrinking rhythmically as tthey breathed. The light itself broke up and flared as if it came from a great fire to fall on shards of glass. If Perryn hadn’t kissed again, she would have been frightened, but his lovemaking was too engrossing for her to think of anything else. When they were finished she fell asleep in his arms.

She woke suddenly a few hours later to find him asleep beside her. In the lantern the candle stub guttered in a spill of wax. For a moment she was so confused that she wondered what he was doing there, but an odd bit at a time, she remembered. She nearly wept in shame. How could she have betrayed her Rhodry? How could she have played the slut with a man she hated? She sat up, waking him.

“Get out of here,” Jill said. “I never want to see you again.”

He merely smiled and reached for her, but the candle went out with a last dancing flare. A red eye in the dark, the wick slowly faded. In the darkness she was freed from his smile, and she got up before he could grab her.

“Get out, or I’ll find my sword and cut you in pieces.”

Without a word of argument he got up and began searching for his clothes. She leaned against the wall, because the room seemed to be spinning around her. Every little scuffle or rustle Perryn made was unnaturally loud, as if the noise echoed in a chamber ten times the size. Finally he was done.

“I truly do love you,” he said meekly. I’d never just trifle with you once and then desert you.”