The Red Wyvern: Book One of the Dragon Mage. Katharine Kerr
else, then?’ the gwerbret said. ‘If we’re not to send her off to a northern lord, where’s the best place for us to spend this coin?’
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Burcan said. ‘Perhaps it would be best to keep it in the clan. All things considered. Do you want your niece and her child held hostage one day by someone who just went over to the Usurper? Turning Lilli over might be a good way for a new man to prove his loyalty.’
‘True enough.’ Tibryn paused to swear with a shake of his head. ‘There’s your lad Braemys.’
‘Hmph, well,’ Burcan said. ‘I was thinking about one of the conjoint lords –’
‘Why? If we’re keeping her close to the clan’s hearth, then let’s do so. Some of our distant cousins would slit my throat gladly if it came to saving their own necks with the Usurper. They’d do the same for you.’
‘I can’t argue with that, but –’
‘But what?’ Tibryn waved the objection away. ‘A cousin marriage is a grand way to keep land in a great clan, anyway. Lilli will bring her late father’s land as a dowry, of course, since her brothers are dead, too. I’d like to see Braemys have it. The holding will be worth keeping in the Boar’s hands.’ He turned to Merodda. ‘As the Regent’s son, he and his wife will be living at court much of the time.’
‘Just so, Your Grace.’ Merodda favoured him with a brilliant smile. ‘Brother? You look troubled.’
Actually, Lilli decided, Burcan looked furious enough to choke her; then the look vanished in a wry smile.
‘It makes a man feel old, seeing his youngest son marry,’ Burcan said and smoothly.
‘Happened to me, too.’ Tibryn nodded. ‘Well, let’s consider the matter settled. Rhodi, how about pouring some of that mead?’
‘Of course.’ Merodda got up from her chair and started toward the table, then glanced back. ‘Lilli, you don’t have any objections, do you?’
‘None, Mother. I’ve always known I’d marry where the clan wished.’
‘Good,’ Tibryn said. ‘Good child. Braemys is a well-favoured lad, anyway, and a good man with a horse.’
‘And what about you?’ Merodda turned to Burcan. ‘Does this suit you well enough, brother?’
Burcan raised bland eyes.
‘Well enough,’ he said. ‘We’d best start discussing the dowry and the bride-price.’
‘Oh come now,’ Tibryn said. ‘The land she brings should be enough for any man, Burco!’
‘Very true.’ Merodda turned to Lilli. ‘You may leave us now.’
Lilli rose, curtsied, and gladly fled. She hurried down the stone staircase to the first turn, then paused, looking out over the great hall, roaring with armed men in the firelight. Braemys had left Dun Deverry some days earlier, she knew, gone off to his father’s lands to muster their allies, but then, his father would have to be the one to inform him of the betrothal, anyway. Perhaps Uncle Burcan would send him a messenger; more likely the matter would wait until her cousin returned to court. She wondered if he would be pleased instead of feeling merely relieved she wasn’t someone else.
Lilli did however spot Lady Bevyan, standing by the royal table with two of Queen Abrwnna’s serving women. Smiling, Lilli trotted down the steps and made her way over to her foster-mother, who greeted her by holding out one arm. Lilli slipped into that familiar embrace with a comfortable sigh. With nods and farewells, the serving women drifted away.
‘My, you look pleased!’ Bevyan said. ‘The talk with your mother wasn’t as bad as all that, then.’
‘It wasn’t. They’ve settled my betrothal, and it’s not to one of Uncle Tibryn’s awful vassals.’
‘Good! I was afraid they’d be considering Nantyn.’
‘They were, but Uncle Burcan spoke up for me. It was such an odd thing, Bevva! He even offered to cede Nantyn some land somewhere if Uncle Tibryn wanted to give the old sot that instead of me.’
‘Well, may our goddess bless him for it!’ Bevyan’s voice sounded oddly wary. ‘I wouldn’t have thought he’d do such a thing, Burcan that is.’
‘But he did, and now I’ll be marrying Braemys, my cousin, you know?’
Bevyan’s arm tightened fast and sharp around her shoulders, then released her. Lilli stepped away and looked at her foster-mother, whose face had gone as bland as her uncle’s had, a few minutes before.
‘Is somewhat wrong with him?’ Lilli said.
‘Not in the least. A decent young man and quite well-spoken, he is.’ Her voice wavered ever so slightly. ‘Well. I’ll wager you’re glad to have it settled, dear.’
‘I am, truly. And this way I’ll be staying at court, and I’ll still be able to see you, now and again.’
‘Just so, and that will be lovely.’
But the distant look in Bevva’s eyes – it was fear, Lilli realized suddenly – bespoke thoughts that were far from lovely. She hovered, wondering what could be so wrong, until Bevyan broke the mood with a little laugh.
‘It’s so noisy here,’ Bevva said. ‘Shall we go up to my chambers? Sarra will want to hear all about your betrothal.’
With that, both Bevyan and the evening returned to their normal selves. Up in Bevva’s suite various court ladies joined them for a long gossip. Lilli felt like a cat lying down for a good nap by a fire, all safe and warm at last. Here in the company of other women she could forget, for at least a little while, the black ink and its secrets.
In the morning Bevyan’s suspicions woke with her. While she dressed, they seemed to sit on the edge of her bed, muttering in low voices, ‘Could it be? Could it really be?’ One never knew what Merodda might be thinking; she did, after all, lie as easily as a bard sang. Finally she could stand it no longer and went to Merodda’s chambers, just to hear what she could hear, she told herself, just to prove herself wrong. When Merodda’s maidservant let Bevyan in, she found the lady washing her face. In the corner of her bedroom stood a crockery basin on a wooden stand. Dressed in a plain white shift, Merodda was dabbling a thin cloth in strange-smelling water.
‘I’ll be with you in a moment, Bevyan. I shan’t be able to talk while I’m doing this.’
‘Of course. I’m in no hurry. Is it a herb bath, dear?’
Merodda gave her a brief smile for her only answer, then wrung out her cloth and began wiping her face with it. Every now and then she’d dip a corner of the rag back in the basin, but Bevyan noticed that she never let it get too wet and that she kept her lips tightly closed the while. No doubt the stuff tasted as bad as it smelled. When she finished, she laid the cloth at her windowsill to dry, then rinsed her hands with clean water from a crockery pitcher that stood on the floor.
‘Now then,’ Merodda said. ‘What did you wish to speak with me about?’
‘Lilli told me about her betrothal last night.’
‘Ah, did she? What do you think of Braemys?’
‘He’s a very decent lad. A bit close kin, perhaps.’
‘Oh, Burcan wanted a cousin marriage. It’s the lands, of course. With my sons dead, my poor dear Geredd’s lands came to Lilli. It’s a nice holding.’
‘It is, indeed, and worth the Boar’s keeping.’
Merodda picked up a bone comb and began combing her hair, starkly gold in the sunlight. Another herb potion, or so Bevyan supposed, kept it that girlish colour.
‘I did foster the lass,’ Bevyan said. ‘I’m not merely prying.’
‘Of course not! And