The Red Wyvern: Book One of the Dragon Mage. Katharine Kerr
I could for her, with this marriage. I hope you believe me about that. I did the best I could.’
‘What? Of course I believe you! No doubt your brothers did the real deciding, anyway. I’m just so glad that Tibryn didn’t send her off to Nantyn to be beaten to death.’
‘That was my worst fear.’ Merodda looked at her again, and never had Bevyan seen a woman more sincere. ‘It truly was.’
‘Then we can both thank the Goddess – and Burcan – that it didn’t happen.’
‘Ah. Lilli told you about the way he intervened.’
‘She did. It was very good of him.’
For a moment they considered each other.
‘It was,’ Merodda said at last. ‘But Braemys is a decent lad. Lilli will be very well provided for, and I’ll be able to keep her near me at court much of the time. She’s my last child, after all, the last one these wars have left me. I know that you can understand how I feel.’
‘Unfortunately, I can. You know, dear, I’d never do anything that would ever harm Lilli.’
Merodda nodded, then hesitated, studying Bevyan’s face. It was a habit of hers, to peer at someone so intently you would have thought she was reading omens in their eyes. Bevyan had always assumed that she was nearsighted and nothing more, but this morning the scrutiny bothered her.
‘I shouldn’t take up more of your time,’ Bevyan said.
‘Oh, Bevva, don’t be foolish! It’s good to see you. In fact, may I ask you a favour?’
‘Of course.’
‘Come with me on an errand. I’ve got to consult with the heralds on an odd matter. Unless perhaps you know: is there a clan named the Red Wyvern among the Usurper’s following?’
‘I have no idea. I vaguely remember hearing the name once, years and years ago, but that’s all.’
‘Then let me dress, and we’ll pay the heralds a visit.’
Merodda smiled; Bevyan smiled; the suspicions began their nattering again. And yet what was she to do, Bevva asked herself? Come right out and ask: Lilli is Burcan’s child, isn’t she? You’re marrying her off to her own brother, aren’t you?
In one of the side brochs the King’s heralds lived and had their scriptorium, where they copied over and preserved the genealogies of the various clans and their intermarryings as well as the devices proper to each. When the two women arrived, a servant trotted off to fetch the chief herald himself, leaving them in the sunny room. A row of tables with slanted tops sat underneath the windows, while on the walls hung small shields, each about a foot high, the official record of each device. Merodda began circling the room and studying the shields, but what caught Bevyan’s attention was a glass sphere filled with water that sat upon the window ledge. She was just puzzling over it when the chief herald himself, Dennyc, trotted in with low bows for the Regent’s sister and her companion.
‘Ah, there you are, good herald,’ Merodda said. ‘My thanks for attending upon us.’
‘It’s my honour, your ladyship. And what may I do for you?’
‘I’ve a question,’ Merodda said, pointing. ‘On this shield here, whose device is this? The red wyvern, I mean.’
‘Sadly, the clan that bore it is long gone.’ Dennyc ambled over to join her. ‘The last heir died before I was born, and so I know only what my predecessor told me. They held land off in the west and were related to the blood royal of both Deverry and Pyrdon. Just exactly how I don’t remember, though I could of course look it up for you.’
‘Oh, do spare yourself the effort. It doesn’t matter.’ Merodda suddenly laughed. ‘Since they’re long gone.’
Bevyan could only wonder why, but there was no doubt that Merodda looked profoundly relieved. Dennyc bowed again.
‘I’d been hoping for a word with your ladyship,’ the herald said. ‘I understand that she’s betrothed her daughter to Braemys of the Boar.’
‘I have, indeed.’
‘Ah, I was thinking, you see, being as I do study such things, your ladyship, the best to serve my king and all who serve him, that perhaps the marriage is a bit too much of a close one.’
For the briefest of moments Merodda went as a still as a rabbit in the bracken when it hears the hounds. Perhaps it was merely the bright light in the room, but she went a little pale around the mouth as well – again, for a brief moment. With what must have been an effort, she smiled.
‘Cousin marriages are common in all the great clans,’ Merodda said.
‘Just so, my lady.’ Dennyc bowed with the air of a man who wasn’t quite sure of what else to do. ‘But there have been so many first cousin marriages among the Boar that I thought perhaps it was my duty to warn her ladyship, merely warn her of course as the decision will always remain hers and her brothers, but,’ he paused for a brief breath, ‘perhaps if there were some other candidate who pleased her ladyship equally well –’
‘There’s not.’ Merodda spoke firmly but politely. ‘My thanks, good Dennyc. Lady Bevyan, shall we go?’
‘As you wish, my lady.’
Bevyan and Merodda parted company at the door of the King’s broch, but all that morning, as she walked in the gardens as part of the Queen’s retinue, Bevyan found her worry gnawing at her. Apparently the news of Lady Lillorigga’s marriage had reached royalty as well as the heralds. With a wave of one slender hand, Abrwnna motioned Bevyan up to walk beside her.
‘I hear your foster-daughter is to marry Lord Braemys,’ the Queen said.
‘She is, Your Highness.’
‘And here I was going to take him into my fellowship.’ Abrwnna tossed her head with a ripple of red-gold hair in the sunlight. ‘I’m glad now I didn’t.’
‘I see, Your Highness.’
They walked a bit further down a gravelled path to a wall where climbing roses were just beginning to bud. The Queen picked one and forced the tiny petals open with her thumb.
‘I let your son know that he’d be welcome to join my fellowship. He declined. Did you know that?’
‘I didn’t, Your Highness. I hope you weren’t offended.’
‘Of course I was. But it’s not your fault.’
Before Bevyan could think of a tactful comment, the Queen dismissed her again.
As Bevyan was entering the great hall for dinner with her women behind her, chance brought her face to face with Regent Burcan, followed by his own retinue. They smiled and exchanged pleasantries, but Bevyan found herself studying his broad face, the distinctive wide blue eyes, the thin mouth, both so like Lilli’s – but like her mother’s as well, she reminded herself.
‘I must congratulate you, Regent,’ Bevyan said at last. ‘I hear you’ve made a good marriage for young Braemys.’
Burcan’s expression changed; he kept smiling, but his entire face went tight from the effort of doing so.
‘Lilli will make him a good wife,’ Burcan said, and his voice was oddly tight as well. ‘And she brings a nice parcel of land with her.’
‘So she does. My congratulations to the lad.’
As Bevyan made their way through the tables to her own seat, she glanced back to find Burcan staring after her, his face set and unreadable. All at once she realized that letting him see her suspicions would be dangerous.
After the meal, there in the great hall before the assembled lords and the King himself Tibryn announced the betrothal of his niece to his nephew. Everyone cheered and called out their congratulations while Lilli smiled and blushed –