Deverry - A Time Of War Part 15

She'd never had so much company or entertainment, either. If either the gwcrbret or the prince were in attendance in the hall - and they could only enter with their wives' permission - a bard was allowed to join them as well, either to sing or to perform tales in the form known as 'Conversations'. When the women were alone, Labanna would devote herself to her work. She had the entire dun to administer, with all its problems of managing servants and supplies. The other women, and Labanna herself when she had time, occupied themselves with their perpetual sewing, since every piece of clothing that anyone wore in the dun was made there as well. Being as she'd always loved to sew, Carra was perfectly happy to do her share. She'd never had such a choice of fine cloths in her life before, either, nor so many colours of thread.

Carra had come to Cengarn only a few weeks before, fleeing a marriage to a rich but ugly old lord that her brother had arranged, all unknowing that she was already pregnant by her elven prince. Since the journey had been anything but easy, she'd arrived utterly exhausted. At first, sitting in a sunny chair and basking in the attention of other women had been the greatest luxury of all. Yet soon enough she'd recovered her strength, and with the recovery she began to realize how greatly her marriage had changed her life.

Back when she'd been living in her brother's dun, a useless third sister dumped onto his care by the death of his father, Carra had had a great deal more freedom to go about alone and on her whims. Now, whenever she announced she wanted to go for a walk in the ward, Labanna summoned pages to attend her. Whenever she wanted to leave the dun, vast consultations occurred, and the equerry or chamberlain, if not both, along with several men from her husband's war-band, escorted her. If Labanna had orders to give, such as to the cook in the kitchen hut, then Carra was allowed to go with her, but again, the two women were never alone, always moving in a crowd of pages, servants and the n.o.ble-born servitors themselves.

'I used to love to go riding,' she remarked one day. 'Just me, you know. Or maybe I'd take a couple of dogs, and we'd just go trotting round my brother's lands. Naught evil ever happened to me, really it didn't.'

The three older women merely smiled, leaving her wondering if she'd actually spoken aloud or not.

'Well,' Carra went on. 'Soon I'm going to be really pregnant, and I won't be able to ride then. So that's why I want to go now.'

'My dear child,' Labanna said at last. 'You're not some scruffy younger daughter any more, but a married woman and a princess. Soon you'll be travelling to your husband's country, and that will simply have to be enough adventure for you.'

'Which reminds me,' Ocradda broke in. As the elder of the two serving women, she was Labanna's main confidante in the dun. 'Is it really wise to allow the princess to ride so far in her condition?'

'I feel fine,' Carra said. 'And I rode all the way here, didn't I?'

'A good point, Occa.' Again, Labanna spoke as if Carra had said *not a word. 'But I'm afraid her place lies with her husband's people. When he rides out, she'll have to ride with him.'

Carra decided that she hated hearing about her 'place'. She felt that she'd become a treasured plate or goblet, put safely on a shelf where none could harm it.

Her mood wasn't helped any by her husband's att.i.tude. Every evening Dar appeared at the door of the hall to escort her down to dinner, and he spent of course his nights in the chamber they shared, but by and large he seemed to be leaving her alone as much as he could. She did realize that often he and his men went out hunting to repay the gwerbret's hospitality, because in this rough part of the country, venison provided much of the meat. At other times, though, it seemed to her that he was merely lounging round with his men instead of sitting with her. When she complained to him, he seemed mostly puzzled, remarking that he knew she had her woman's life to live and that he didn't wish to be in her way. She knew better than to complain to Labanna, who saw her own husband as rarely. But their's was an ordinary sort of marriage, she would think, all fixed up by their clans, and Dar said he married me out of love. At times it seemed to her that all the best parts of her life were long over, and she was, after all, but sixteen summers old.

The long days they spent worrying about the foreign raiders began to get on everyone's nerves as well.

The women had heard all the reports of farms burned, families killed, pregnant women butchered by men little better than beasts. The threat hung large, that these raiders might only be the advance scouts for an army. One particularly hot afternoon they found themselves squabbling over very little. Labanna took charge.

'I think it would do everyone good if we set about planning some sort of feast or entertainment,'

Labanna said. 'I'd best go down and consult with my husband, but this waiting must be hard on his riders, too.' She glanced Carra's way, imparting a small lesson. 'Morale, my dear, is very important out here in the border country.'

'I'll remember that, my lady. If you're going down to the great hall, may I come too?'

'Of course, dear. Just call the others, and we'll all go down together.'

In a crowd of women Carra made her way into the great hall to find it filled with the various warbands, all drinking hard and looking, indeed, grim-faced and tired. At the table of honour Prince Daralanter-iel was sitting with the other lords, but when Carra started to run to him., Labanna caught her arm with a motherly hand.

'The men are discussing matters of supply and suchlike, dear. We'll just take the second table over here.

It gets a bit of a breeze, anyway.'

Carra was forced to sit at the lady's right hand and watch her husband from some ten feet away. He was a handsome man, Dar, exceptionally so even for one of the Westfolk, with jet-black hair and pale grey eyes, cat-slit to reveal a lavender pupil. Yet it wasn't his good looks that had snared her heart, but the way that he'd always been so kind to her, when she'd been unhappy in her brother's dun. Now it seemed that he barely noticed she was there. She told herself that she was only being foolish, to say nothing of vain and selfish, but she'd left everything she'd ever known behind for Dar, her family and clan, a group of friends built up over her entire life, the familiar sights of her ancestral lands and those of her neighbours. Soon she'd be leaving the very country of her birth and her own people. When she wondered if perhaps she'd made a mistake, her heart thudded in sheer panic.

Eventually Labanna caught her lord's attention and was summoned to join the gwerbret. In the great hall men came and went; servants rushed round trying to keep everyone's tankard full; dogs barked and squabbled among themselves. When Labanna returned, the n.o.ble-born servitors came with her to discuss plans for a feast and a series of mock combats. As the great hall grew hot as well as thunderously noisy, Carra began to feel sick to her stomach.

'My dear?' Ocradda leaned over and touched her hand. 'You look pale. Let me summon a page to escort you upstairs. I think a little nap would do you a world of good.'

'I think my lady's exactly right,' Carra said. 'And my thanks.'

Once she was back in her chamber, however, and lying down in the cool, she felt quite recovered. For a few moments she dutifully tried to sleep, then got up and wandered over to the window. When she looked down she could see all sorts of people scurrying round the ward. Probably Labanna had already set things in motion for this feast, a vast event that would take days to plan and prepare. It occurred to her that she might be able to go down for a walk and not even be noticed. Better yet! All at once she remembered the boy's clothes she'd worn when she rode away from her family to join Daralanteriel. If she put those on, perhaps she could sneak out to the stables and get her horse. She'd usually saddled her own horse, back in the days before her marriage. I'm not that pregnant yet, she thought. No reason I can't do it again!

Her plan worked. Dressed like a dirty page, with her hair hidden by an elven leather hat, she seemed to have turned invisible. Her own gelding, Gwerlas, a buckskin Western Hunter, turned out to be stabled right at the end of a line of stalls. She had him out and saddled without a soul noticing. Getting out of the dun through the guarded gates was, of course, a different matter altogether. She led Gwer up by a round-about way, then waited in the partial shelter of a stack of firewood until the two guards started talking with a gaggle of servant girls, Carra mounted and trotted out, looking straight ahead as if she had every right to do so, Neither guard hailed her, and she turned down into the streets of Cengarn.

After a few hundred yards she dismounted again, because in that twisting maze, cluttered with townsfolk hurrying about their business, leading a horse was much easier than riding one. By travelling as straight downhill as the streets would let her she eventually found the South Gate, and there luck tossed her a fine roll of dice. Some twenty feet inside the gate a wagon had overturned with a spew of turnips. Teamster, townsfolk and guards alike were cl.u.s.tering round, yelling at one another about the best way to get it righted. Carra mounted, urged Gwer to a trot, and was out and gone before anyone noticed the lad on the buckskin horse.

As soon as she was well clear, she kicked Gwer to a canter, turning off the road and heading to the west, riding randomly, and singing as she rode in the warm summer sun. Because of the sun, and because Gwer hadn't been getting the exercise he needed, she soon slowed him to a walk. They ambled through the meadows round Cengarn, ending up due west of the town, resting there to let Gwer cool down and Carra look up at the cliffs and the impressive dun above, then rode on to the trees that lined the little stream. She dismounted to let Gwer drink, stood beside him while he did and simply watched the water flow in the dappled shade. For a few moments she was no longer a married woman and a princess, and that was all, truly, that she'd wanted - a few moments' respite.

'I don't want to go back )ust yet,' she remarked to Gwerlas. This really is silly of me, but oh, it feels so wonderful, to not be anything for a while, just me again. And besides, it's a good jest, slipping out on everyone like that.'

He snorted, tossing drops from his muzzle.

'We should have brought Lightning, too. He'd have liked this, getting free of the dun. Oh!'

All at once her heart sank. As soon as they noticed she was gone, they'd be right on her trail to fetch her back, because Lightning would lead them straight to her. She'd forgotten about that, when she'd carelessly left him behind. Unless - she could remember what the heroes always did in the bard songs, when their beloved's husband or some other enemy was hunting them down. She knelt, tested the water, and found it cold but not dangerously so to a horse's legs.

'It might work. Look, Gwer, the stream's really shallow, and it's nice and sandy on the bottom, so you won't slip or suchlike.'

She mounted, urged him into the ford, and after a brief moment's argument got him to start picking his way upstream, heading roughly north They were hidden, too, by the corridor of trees hugging the banks, so that none of the cowherds from the nearby farm even saw her as she rode past without leaving a scent that a dog could follow Rhodry was sitting in the great hall, drinking with Yraen over on the riders' side, when Prince Daralantenel came racing in from the ward In a towering panic he rushed right by the gwerbret and the table of honour, ran cursing through the crowd and finally fetched up at Rho-dry's side 'Carra's gone!' he burst out in Elvish 'I've looked all over for her Her dog's here, but her horse is gone from the stable;. '

All the men near slewed round to stare at this foreign outburst Swearing in two languages Rhodry swung himself clear of the bench and stood 'Tell the gwerbret! We'll get every man in this dun out scouring the countryside for her By the Dark Sun herself, Your Highness, who knows what's out there, waiting for a chance at her!'

Dar made a keening sound deep in his throat, then turned and ran back to the puzzled lords, who had all risen from their chairs to stare at his untidy progress through the hall Every other person in it was whispering in a buzzing tide of speculation Rhodry translated Oar's tale for the other riders, started to give Yraen an order, then stopped in sheer surprise His friend had gone dead pale 'Do you know somewhat about this?' Rhodry snapped 'What? Not in the least What do you mean?' Yraen hauled himself to his feet 'I'm just - well, worried, that's all '

Terrified was more like it For a moment Rhodry flirted with the implausible idea that Yraen might be a traitor, then the obvious occurred.

'Ye G.o.ds!' he hissed 'And a fine choice of a woman to fall in love with' She couldn't get much more above you.'

Yraen swore and hit him in the ribs so hard that it hurt. Rhodry laughed, but under his breath to keep the others from hearing 'No time to discuss the proprieties now,' Rhodry said 'Go saddle our horses, will you? I'm going to stick right close to Lord Matyc in this hunt You do the same '

Yet in the event, Rhodry and Yraen ended up separated, simply because not even one of the G.o.ds could organize a search party of over two hundred men without some confusion Rhodry suspected, in fact, that Yraen had slipped away from him to avoid awkward questions He reminded himself that tormenting a man like Yraen about a hopeless love affair was as much dangerous as cruel and put the matter firmly out of his mind When the search parties left the town, Rhodry simply joined Lord Matyc's men without waiting to be asked Just in case Matyc took this chance to arrange some kind of accident for the princess, he was determined to be near enough to stop it While Carra may have been headstrong at times, she was never stupid Even as she plotted a careful route from stream to thicket to rocks to stream again, she made sure that she kept the towers of the town always in view and close in case she needed to make a strong gallop back to safety With his bloodlines Gwerlas could no doubt have outrun most of the horses in the entire province if he'd had to, to make sure, she rested him often.

When she first heard the hunting horns blowing, she was riding well to the east of Cengarn down a little lane between two ploughed fields She rose in the stirrups, c.o.c.king her head to listen just as they came again - a lot of horns, spreading out from the direction of the dun t first she wondered why the men would start a hunt so late in the day, then she realized that Dar must have called out the warbands to look for her Her pleasure at her joke turned sour.

'They're all going to be furious.'

Gwer snorted with a toss of his head It occurred to her that if she could stay undiscovered long enough, she might be able to cut round behind them and slip back inside unseen, where she could, perhaps, pretend she'd never left She might have fallen asleep in one of the gardens, perhaps, where Dar might not have thought to look for her It was.

worth a try She turned back the way she'd come and began retracing her circuitous route, from cow shed to stream to thicket to duck pond, spiralling in toward the city gates Although she heard horns and even saw, at a great distance, horseman galloping by, no one ever came her way.

When she was in sight of the South Gate, she paused, rising in the stirrups to peer at the walled town, marching up its hills and looming over her She could just pick out the tiny figures of guards, pacing back and forth The East Gate, she decided, would offer her best chance of getting in unseen, simply because it was narrow and old, opening onto a little-used track that existed for the convenience of cowherds and farmers come to market with produce Sure enough, when she approached the town from the east, she saw no one at the gates, neither standing watch nor loitering.

'Good,' she remarked to Gwerlas. The hard part, though, is going to be getting back through the dun gates. Well, one thing at a time.'

She dismounted and led the horse in. The wall here stood a good ten feet thick, and the 'gate' was more a tunnel with a stout oak and iron-bound door standing half-open at the far end. As they hurried through, heading for the sunlight and the town, she pa.s.sed big piles of rocks, stockpiled to clog the opening in case of an attack. Just as she led Gwerlas out into the dusty street, a man stepped in front of her. She screamed aloud when he grabbed her arm, but it was only Yraen, snarling as he barred her way.

'I thought so,' he snapped. 'If you were clever enough to get out, I figured you were clever enough to try to get back in and pretend naught had ever happened.'

'You let me go! I'm a princess now, and you're supposed to be humble round me.'

'Don't you realize what a scare you've given us all? Ye G.o.ds!' He gave her arm a shake. 'You could have been killed, riding out on your own.'

'I was safe enough. I made sure of that.'

'Hah! You without even a table dagger in your belt! And with all this talk of shapechangers riding the winds and evil spirits under every bush and stile! Are you daft?'

'All I wanted was to be alone for just a little while. You don't know what it's like, being shut up like a prized mare, never getting to do anything without half the court following you round.'

At that he let her go.

'Well, I do know, as a matter of fact. But ye G.o.ds, Carra! I mean, Princess, Your Highness - you're right. My apologies. I forget myself.'

'Well, it's hard to remember to be formal and all that when we nearly got ourselves killed together.'

Yraen nodded, looking absently away.

'So we did, so we did. Here, mount up, will you? And I'll lead your horse back for you.'

'I can walk, thank you very much.'

'Ye G.o.ds, don't come over all haughty on me, will you? Get on your wretched horse before I put you on him.'

'Just try.' Carra set her hands on her hips.

For a moment they glared at each other.

'Well, I don't suppose your husband would take it kindly if I did lay hands on you. Walk if you want to.'

Yraen turned on his heel and strode off toward the dun. Grabbing Gwer's reins, Carra followed, keeping his broad back in sight as he found them a path through the round houses and looping alleyways that led this way and that but always uphill. Finally she could stand it no longer.

'Yraen, don't be a rotten beast, will you? I'm sorry.'

He stopped and let her catch up with him.

'I'll escort you back,' he said. Then I'd best ride out after the others and tell them you're safe.'

'Well, truly, that's a good idea. Or I can find my own way back.' She grinned at him. 'I found my way out, didn't I?'

For a moment he kept his face expressionless, then slowly, as if he begrudged the effort, he smiled in return.

'I've got to get a fresh horse anyway. Here, I really should be leading Gwer for you.'

When he held out his hand, she gave him the reins, and they walked side-by-side when they went on.

Carra never knew what to think of Yraen. Although he was technically a handsome man, he was as cold and hard as a steel blade in winter, occasionally smiling, rarely laughing, always, it seemed, on the edge of some great rage. Even Rhodry, with his wild berserker fits, seemed more human, more warm than Yracn ever did. As they plodded along, his silence began to get on her nerves.

'I'm still surprised you knew where to look for me,' she said.

'I know what a sneak you can be, that's all. So I thought, well, if I wanted to slip back into a dun, what would I do? And so I waited at the East Gate, because that's the one I would have chosen, and lo! in you walked.'

'A sneak! I do like that.'

'Well, look at the clever way you plotted your escape from your brother. And I still don't know how you worked on Rhodry, after you met us on the road, I mean, to get him to guard you for the journey here.'

'I still don't know, either. He was so odd, that night in that miserable little tavern where I met you both.

He kept talking about his Lady Death, and how I was carrying his death with me. It made me feel awful, actually.'

'Don't take it to heart. He's talked that way for all the years I've known him.' Yraen sounded deeply aggrieved. 'I don't know why I keep riding with Rhodry, I truly don't, but I always stay even when I get a chance to ride some other road.'

'Well, I suppose that two silver daggers are safer than one. On the roads and suchlike, I mean.'

'That's true, of course.'

They had reached the top of the market hill, the second highest in Cengarn, and a vast open s.p.a.ce, partly gra.s.s, partly cobbled, where on each full moon of spring and summer the town held a fair, although its real purpose was providing pasture for cattle during a siege. From its crest they could look across to the dun, rising dark and grim, towering over everything round it.

'Oh, I hate to go back!' Carra said with a dramatic sigh. 'Couldn't I run away with you, Yraen, and be a silver dagger?'

She started to laugh at her own jest, but the look on his face stopped her. For one brief moment his heart lay open like a night sky, so that she could pick out every constellation of desire and grief and frustration. Then he turned away with a snort.

'As if a skinny la.s.s like you could ever learn to handle a sword!' he snapped. 'Besides, there's this small matter of your baby to consider.'

'Oh, I know.' She could barely speak, desperately searched for some jest to cover her unconscious cruelty of the moment before. There was none. 'And I have my place and all that. Yraen, I'm sorry.'

He merely shrugged, staring across the little valley at the dun. For a few moments they stood together, wrapped in the misery of a revealed truth. Although Carra knew she was pretty, in her world beauty meant so much less than position and a good dowry that she had never thought of herself as desirable to men of her own kind. That Yraen would love her was completely unexpected, and more frightening than pleasing.

'I'm tired,' she said at last. 'Could you please lead Gwer and let me ride? You were right, back at the gate.'

He smiled, briefly, and held the bridle while she mounted. During the rest of the trip back to the dun, neither of them said a word.

Although Carra had been hoping that she would somehow manage to slip past the women waiting for her in the great hall, her luck had left her for the day. As they walked through the gates, the guards shouted, calling out her name and cheering. Labanna, with the serving women and Jill right behind them, came racing out into the ward. Carra dismounted, bracing herself for the scolding of her life.

'My dear child! What could you have been thinking of?' Labanna started right in. 'Of all the stupid, heartless -'

'Hush.' Jill stepped in between them. Tour Grace, my lady, please. Will you leave her to me?'

Labanna scowled, but she made the dweomermaster a small curtsy and retreated to the company of her ladies. When Jill laid a firm hand on her arm, Carra wished that she could faint or perhaps even die. She was never going to be able to work Jill round by being contrite and winsome the way she'd planned to do with Labanna.

'Come up to your chamber with me, Carra,' Jill said. 'It's time we had a little chat.' She glanced at Yraen, still standing nearby. 'Are you going to fetch the others?'

'I am. Just going to get a fresh horse and find a hunting horn.'

'Good. Tell Dar to come talk with me when you find him. Now. Carra, come along.'

Feeling like a dog about to be whipped, Carra trailed along behind as Jill led the way up the spiral staircase. Once they were safely shut up in the chamber, Jill perched on the windowsill and motioned for Carra to sit down. She sat on the edge of the bed and wondered if she could pretend to faint - not and fool Jill, she supposed. For a moment the dweomermaster considered her with cold blue eyes that seemed to bore deep into her soul. All at once she laughed, a pleasant chuckle under her breath.

'Good for you,' she said, still smiling. 'I always knew you had spirit.'

Carra felt herself goggling open-mouthed like some village halfwit.