The Spirit Stone. Katharine Kerr
for a moment. You must have heard what’s transpired.’
‘I did. I just didn’t believe it.’
‘Alas, it’s true.’ Casyl waved in Nevyn’s general direction. ‘I promised Lord Nevyn any boon he desires. He’s asked me for you, to be his servant for seven years and a day, and to serve him the way you’d serve me.’
Gwairyc swung his head around like a striking snake and stared at Nevyn for a long poisonous moment before returning his gaze to the king. ‘Your highness,’ he whispered. ‘You’d send me away?’
‘Not willingly, but how can I go back on my promise? What kind of man would I be, to promise a boon and then haggle like some merchant? Here, my friend, I’ll miss you.’
Gwairyc slumped and stared at the floor. ‘Well, my liege,’ Gwairyc said at last. ‘A vow’s a vow, and whatever Lord Nevyn says, I’ll do it as willingly as I can.’
‘Well and good, then. And when the seven years and a day are over, I beg you to return to me.’
‘I will, my liege.’ Gwairyc’s voice came close to breaking. ‘I swear it.’
Casyl glanced at Nevyn to give him permission to speak.
‘My thanks, your highness,’ Nevyn said. ‘Now, my lord, I’m staying at the temple of Wmm in the city. Tomorrow at dawn, come to me there. Bring a horse and gear for a long journey.’
‘I will, my lord.’ Gwairyc hesitated, looking up at him with stunned eyes. ‘May I ask how I am to serve you?’
‘You may, but not here,’ Nevyn said. ‘On the morrow I’ll tell you more. I’m a herbman, though, and we’ll be travelling the roads all summer.’
The eavesdroppers snickered. Gwairyc’s face became a mask of shrouded feeling. Everyone else in the hall began to whisper among themselves, a vast susurrus of ‘what did the old man say?’ When the king threw up his hand, silence came promptly.
‘Gwarro, my friend,’ the king said. ‘Serve this man as you would serve me. That’s all I’d ask of you.’
‘Then that’s what I’ll do, your highness.’ Gwairyc rose and bowed to him. ‘If you’ll give me leave to go?’
Casyl nodded his agreement. The great hall sat stunned as Gwairyc turned and strode out. No one spoke, no one followed him, but here and there, Nevyn noticed, at other tables, courtiers smiled as slyly as if they’d just seen an enemy slain.
Nevyn took leave of the king as soon as he could. He walked back to Olnadd’s along streets that lay in shadow from the setting sun, even though the sky above still shone blue. Well, Lilli, Nevyn thought, someday mayhap we’ll meet again, but it won’t be this summer.
‘Gwarro, it’s just too awful,’ Sagraeffa said. ‘I’ve been weeping for hours.’
Around her swollen eyes ran little streaks of Bardekian kohl, witnesses to the truth of her tears. She’d taken off her headscarf as well and dishevelled her hair, which hung like thick dark ropes around her full face. ‘I just hate this,’ she went on. ‘You can’t go!’ ‘I don’t have any choice, do I? By the black hairy arse of the Lord of Hell, do you think this gladdens my heart?’
Sagraeffa snivelled and twisted her handkerchief tightly between pale fingers. Lady Sagraeffa, wife to Lord Obyn of the White Wolf, was a lovely woman, with raven-dark Eldidd hair and cornflower-blue eyes to match. For months, Gwairyc had been stalking her, flattering her, courting her, and now, just when he had a chance at the prize, disaster had ended his hunt. He felt like strangling her for putting him off for all these months. As if she read his temper, she shrank back into the corner of the window-seat.
‘I shall miss you so,’ she said. ‘Don’t you even know where that awful old man is going?’
‘I don’t. The hells, for all I care.’
Sagraeffa gave a small delicate sob and twisted the handkerchief tighter. With a muttered oath, Gwairyc got up and began pacing around the chamber, which was stuffed with cushioned furniture and little knick-knacks. He picked up a silver basket of glass flowers from Bardek and considered heaving it into the gilded mirror above the hearth.
‘Gwarro, what are you doing?’ Sagraeffa snuffled. ‘Come sit down. We don’t have very long, and I want one of your kisses.’
Gwairyc paced back, but he stood over her rather than sitting down. She leaned against red velvet cushions and smiled wistfully at him.
‘How long will your cursed husband be gone?’
‘How should I know?’ Sagraeffa pouched her full lips into a moue. ‘He’s so tedious when he gets to talking with Lord Banryc.’
‘Good.’
When Gwairyc sat down next to her, she smiled, offering him her hand, then pulling it back again. She wanted some more fine words, he supposed, all that courtly drivel that she ate up, like a chicken pecking seed as he trailed it out in front of her.
‘My heart aches at leaving you, my love,’ Gwairyc said. ‘It’s the worst thing of all.’
Sagraeffa smiled, moving a little closer and letting him catch her hand.
‘Ah by the hells, how can the gods be so cruel?’ Gwairyc went on. ‘They show me the love of my life, then tear me away from her.’
‘Well, they’ve done the same to me. That beastly old man! Oh, Gwarro, it’s going to be all tedious again without you.’
Gwairyc pulled her close and kissed her. With a sigh, she slipped her arms around his neck and let him take a few more kisses, but when he laid his hand on her breast, she giggled, pulling away and glancing at the door. Admittedly, her stupid husband could come in at any minute, but Obyn was a man who liked his habits, and one of those habits was having three games of carnoic with Lord Banryc every other night. He estimated that they were just finishing the first one.
‘Now come along, my love. It’s our last night together. Are you going to be as cruel as the gods and send me away without even a splendid memory of your love?’
Sagraeffa caught her lower lip under her front teeth and stared up at him, honestly frightened. All at once, Gwairyc realized that she’d never had any intention of sleeping with him.
‘Obyn might come back.’ Her voice shook.
‘So what? I’ve already been banished, haven’t I? And do you think that dry stick of a husband of yours has the strength to beat you? I’ll wager he doesn’t. He won’t be back anyway.’
‘But I –’
Gwairyc caught her face in both hands and kissed her hard. When she squirmed away, he caught her by the shoulders and kissed her again. For a moment she struggled with him, then went satisfyingly limp in his arms.
‘You told me you loved me. Do you or not?’
Sagraeffa looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, a pleasant sign of weakness. This time, he kissed her gently, letting his mouth linger on hers. She laid a trembling hand on his arm and caressed him. He knew cursed well that she wanted it as badly as he did. He decided that this time, she wasn’t going to put him off.
‘Tomorrow I’ll be gone. Who knows if we’ll ever see each other again? Please, my love? My heart aches with wanting you so badly. There’s never been another woman who could make me feel this way.’
This brought a wary smile to her slightly swollen lips. Gwairyc had one brief thought for her husband – what if he did leave early? Then he kissed her again, kept kissing her until she gave in and let him caress her.
‘Let me take you to your bedchamber.’
Sagraeffa went stiff in his arms and turned her head away.
‘Oh by the hells!’ Gwairyc snapped. ‘We’re running out of time!’