Drowned Ammet. Diana Wynne Jones
Flate and shooting birds with a long silver-inlaid fowling piece. Harl was allowed to use a gun, being an earl’s son. No one else was, apart from lords and hearthmen, because there had been so many uprisings in the South. Big ships carried cannon, as a protection against the ships of the North, but guns were other wise banned. But, said Harl, why not give all the soldiers guns as well? That would make the four Earls think twice before attacking Holand.
Hadd agreed that it would. And that put paid to the hopes of Mitt and the Free Holanders. Up went rents and taxes and harbour dues. The people of Holand admitted grudgingly that Hadd was up to everything, even while they groaned.
“It’s not right,” said Ham. “Give Harchad’s men guns and they’ll be ten times worse than they are now. But you have to admire Hadd. Fair play.”
But Hadd took other precautions too. The Earl of Canderack, since most of the coast north of Holand was his, owned a fair-size fleet he could send against Holand if necessary. Holand also had its fleet. But to be on the safe side, Hadd betrothed his granddaughter Hildrida to the Lord of the Holy Islands, north of Canderack. The ships of the Holy Islands were famous. As Siriol remarked to Ham, the Holy Islands fleet was probably the main reason why the North had not long since conquered the South and brought freedom to everyone. Milda, as she sewed with three other women at a great bedspread to be covered with blue and gold roses, thought of it from another point of view. One of the women said that Lithar, Lord of the Holy Islands, was twenty years old. And, another added, Hildrida Navisdaughter could only be about nine.
Milda remembered she had once been interested in Navis and his family. “Then in that case I don’t think it’s fair at all!” she said warmly.
IT DID NOT seem fair to Hildrida Navisdaughter either. She thought at first she was in trouble. She and her brother, Ynen, had gone sailing. They had been tired of being told they were too young to go out in a boat alone and of being taken tamely up and down the coast by the sailors the Earl employed to sail his family. Ynen had wanted to sail a boat himself. So they slipped away and borrowed their cousins’ yacht. It had been splendid fun, and very frightening too. Ynen had nearly laid the boat on her side, just outside the West Pool, before he got used to the wind. And they had twice found themselves nearly aground in the shoals beyond. But they had managed. They had brought the yacht back and not even bumped the jetty.
Then, as soon as she reached the Palace, Hildy was told her father wanted to see her. Naturally she thought he had found out about the sailing.
Too bad for him! Hildrida thought, while she was having a good dress put on and her windblown black hair brushed. I shall be very angry. I shall say we’re never allowed to do anything. I shall say it’s my fault, and I shan’t let him send for Ynen. And I’ll tell him that it doesn’t matter whether we drown or not. It’s not as if we were important.
The lady-in-waiting who led Hildrida by her hand through the lofty corridors to Navis’s rooms rather thought Hildrida must have found out what was in store for her. She had never seen her so white and stormy. The lady-in-waiting was glad she was not in Navis’s shoes.
Navis was well aware that his daughter had an awkward personality. He had taken refuge in a book. When Hildy was shown in, she found him sitting on the window seat, with his calm profile outlined against the Flate beyond the window, and his eyes on a song by the Adon. She was exasperated. The ladies-in-waiting told her that Navis was still grieving for her dead mother, but Hildy found that hard to believe. To her mind, Navis was the coldest and laziest person she knew.
“I’m here,” she said piercingly, to stir him up a bit. “And I’m not sorry.”
Navis winced a little and kept his eyes studiously on his book. But like the lady-in-waiting, he assumed that Hildrida had already heard about her betrothal, and he was heartily relieved. “Then, if you’re not sorry, I suppose you’re glad,” he said. “Whoever told you has saved me a great deal of trouble. You may run away and boast now if you wish.”
Hildy was taken aback at not being scolded. But it seemed to her that her father was washing his hands of her, just as he always did, and she wanted to do battle with him instead. “I never boast,” she said. “But I could. We didn’t sink her.”
Navis was puzzled enough to take his eyes off his book and look at Hildy. “What are you talking about?”
“What did you send for me for?” Hildrida countered.
“Why, to tell you that you’ve just been betrothed to the Lord of the Holy Islands,” said her father. “What did you think it was for?”
“Betrothed?” said Hildy. “Without asking me!” It was such a bombshell that, for the moment, she clean forgot she had been sailing. “Why wasn’t I told?”
Navis found himself facing a blazing white daughter, out in the open, as it were, without a book to hide behind. “I am telling you,” he said, and hastily picked up his book again.
“When it’s too late!” Hildrida said, before he could find his place again. “When it’s done. You might have asked me if I minded, even if I’m not important. I’m a person too.”
“Most people are,” Navis said, rather desperately scanning his page. He wished he had not chosen to read the Adon. The Adon said things like “Truth is the fire that fetches thunder,” which sounded unpleasantly like a description of Hildrida. “And you are very important now,” he added. “You’re forming an alliance with Lithar for us.”
“What’s Lithar like? How old is he?” Hildrida demanded.
Navis found his place and put his finger on it. “I’ve only met him once.” It was hard to know what else to say. “He’s only a young man – twenty or so.”
“Only—!” Words nearly failed Hildy. “I’m not going to be betrothed to an old man like that! I’m too young. And I’ve never met him!”
Navis hastily got his book in front of his face again. “Time will cure both those objections.”
“No, it won’t!” stormed Hildrida. “And if you go on reading, I’ll – I’ll hit you and then tear that book up!”
Realising that strong measures were necessary, Navis laid his book down. “Now listen, Hildy. This is something that happens to all our family. Your cousin Harilla is being betrothed to the Lord of Mark, and what’s her name – Harchad’s daughter – to one of the—”
Hildy interrupted with a screech. Her father could call her Hildy all he liked – usually only Ynen did – but the thought of being lumped in with the dreadful girl cousins was too much for her. “Just you un-betroth me!” she said. “And do it at once, or you’ll be sorry!”
“You know I can’t,” said her father. “It’s your grandfather’s doing, not mine.”
“Then he’ll be sorry too!” Hildy proclaimed, and swept to the door.
Navis called after her. It was easier talking to her back. “Hildrida! Don’t make an undignified scene, there’s a good girl. It won’t do any good. I advise you to go to the library instead and read about the Holy Islands. You’ll find they’re rather interesting.”
Hildy paused, with her hand on the doorknob. Islands were places surrounded by water, weren’t they? Perhaps she could turn this bombshell to some advantage at least. “I ought to learn to sail, oughtn’t I, if I’m going to the Holy Islands?” she said.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Navis said. Rather relieved to find her no longer raging, he added consolingly, “But you won’t be going for some years yet.”
“Then I’ve got time