The Gold Falcon. Katharine Kerr
In sullen brotherhood they turned and strode back to the ward, out of sight of Branna and the good-looking gerthddyn both.
Behind the broch, at a pleasant distance from the pig sty and the dungheap, the cook had planted a kitchen garden. Narrow beds of herbs separated each plot of cabbages, turnips, and the like. In their aromatic midst stood a little bench, where Salamander led Branna for their talk.
‘Tell me somewhat,’ Salamander said. ‘What do you think of young Neb? And of Gerran for that matter.’
‘Everyone seems to be asking me that these days,’ Branna said. ‘Are you trying to marry me off, too?’
‘Do I look like a village matchmaker?’
‘Truly, you don’t. So why did you ask me about Neb and Gerran?’
‘They both seem besotted with you. That’s all.’
‘They are, aren’t they?’ Branna sounded deeply surprised. ‘How very odd.’
‘Now here! Not so odd for a pretty lass like you.’
‘But very odd for a lass who has no dowry to speak of.’
‘You don’t value yourself highly, do you, my lady?’
‘How could I? My stepmother never let a chance go by to remind me how lowly I was. She used to suggest that I become a priestess, since obviously I’d never make a good marriage.’
‘A nasty sort, was she? A veritable shrew, virago, termagant, and so on and so forth.’
‘All of that, good sir, and more. Do you know what it’s like to have your kin begrudge the food you eat?’
‘I do, oddly enough,’ Salamander said. ‘But I didn’t have to suffer it as long. How did you manage to keep from going mad?’
‘What? And let her claim a victory?’
They shared a laugh.
‘But your question’s worthy of an answer,’ Branna went on. ‘At first, I wasn’t truly alone. When I was small, there were the servants’ children in my father’s dun to play with – not my precious stepbrothers, of course, who weren’t allowed to talk to someone so far beneath them.’
‘It’s a pity your stepmother didn’t get carried off by Horsekin. They would have understood each other very well.’
Branna grinned at him, then went on. ‘I did have Aunt Galla to look out for my interests, too.’ The grin disappeared. ‘Until her husband was offered this demesne, and they moved out here.’
‘So our good tieryn’s not held this dun for very long?’
‘He hasn’t. He and Galla used to live about twenty miles east of here, not far from my father’s dun, which is farther east still. But when the king established this demesne, the gwerbret assigned it to Cadryc. I saw Aunt Galla but rarely after that, and the servants’ children had all been set to working by then.’
‘But you survived.’
‘I did. I learned how to be alone, you see. I made up little tales to ease my heart, about some other time and some other place in Deverry.’ She looked away with a sigh. A long strand of hair had pulled free of the clasp and hung beside her cheek. With an irritated wave of her hand she flipped it back, but when it fell forward again, she ignored it.
‘What sort of tales?’ Salamander said. ‘I find myself most curious, if you’d care to tell me.’
‘Oh, well, they were stupid things, I suppose.’ Branna suddenly blushed. ‘I’m sorry I mentioned them.’
‘Don’t be. Please, they can’t be very stupid if you told them. You strike me as a level-headed lass.’
‘I do? Most people call me strange.’
‘Most people are half-blind no matter how good their eyes. But I am a gerthddyn, you know. Hearing about someone else’s tales always interests me.’
Another sigh, another glance away – for a moment she perched so uneasily on the edge of the bench that he feared she’d get up and bolt; then she settled back.
‘I made up this other Then, this other Where, you see, another world, really, though it was much like Deverry. And in this world –’ She paused for a moment.
Salamander gave her an encouraging smile.
‘Well, I used to pretend that I was a mighty sorcerer. I travelled all over the kingdom, and to Bardek, and to marvellous islands far far away. I could call down a strange blue fire to light my way, and once, when I was trapped in a burning building, I commanded the wind to save me.’
‘Sounds splendid, indeed.’
‘In one tale, I could even turn myself into a bird and fly.’
‘And this bird, it was a falcon, was it?’
Branna slewed around on the bench and stared at him while the colour drained from her face. ‘How do you know that?’ she was whispering. ‘Or are sorcerous powers a common delusion among lonely females?’
‘Not at all. Most lonely lasses dream about meeting a prince who loves them madly.’
She laughed with a toss of her head, and in that gesture he could see the hard common sense that once had been hers, in that other when, that other where. ‘True enough,’ she said. ‘But how did you know about my falcon?’
‘My mysterious bardic powers, of course. Ah, I see you don’t believe me.’
‘You’re not a bard. If you were, maybe I’d believe you, but you’re a gerthddyn. How did you know?’
‘Ah, therein lies an enigma, most recondite, obscure, and elusive.’ Salamander paused. He could hear voices coming towards them. ‘And it’s one you absolutely must solve for yourself.’ He stood up with a wave in the direction of the voices. ‘Here comes our good tieryn and his son, so alas, I must leave you.’
Branna jumped up and grabbed him by the shirt with both hands. ‘Tell me, you chattering elf!’ She let him go and stepped back, blushing furiously. ‘A thousand apologies! I don’t know what made me do that. I mean, you’re not even an elf. It was wretchedly rude of me. Please forgive me!’
‘You’re forgiven, and here’s one last bit of advice. Be careful around Gerran. He might carry the falcon mark, but I doubt me if he’ll ever turn into a bird and fly.’
‘I figured that out on my own, good sir.’
‘Good sir, is it?’ Salamander grinned at her, and in a moment she smiled in return.
Arguing in quiet voices, Cadryc and Mirryn rounded the corner and bore down upon them. When Salamander jumped back out of the way, the two lords finally realized that they had an audience.
‘Apologies,’ Cadryc snapped. ‘Branna my dear, I didn’t see you.’
‘No harm done, Uncle.’ Branna rose and curtsied. ‘I’ll just be going inside.’
The three men paused and watched her trot off, holding her skirts up to keep them free of the dirty ground.
‘I’d best be going, too,’ Salamander said. ‘My lords?’
They nodded their permission. Salamander hurried away, but he ducked behind the cook’s little gardening shed to eavesdrop.
‘I’ll not argue one word more,’ Cadryc was saying. ‘We’re leaving on the morrow, and you’re not, and that’s that.’
‘But –’
‘I said not one word more!’
In a few moments Mirryn stormed past Salamander without seeing him. Cadryc followed more slowly, shaking his head. Salamander stepped out and bowed to him.
‘Your