The Fire Dragon (20 page)

“I'd hoped for a better welcome than this,” he remarked at last. “You can't mean this.”

“I do mean it, Your Highness.”

“I understand about the grief. It would be truly unseemly
for you to fall into my arms with Branoic just gone. But griefs pass, my lady, and your heart will change.”

“It won't.” Lilli felt oddly calm. “I'm sorry, Your Highness, because I never wanted to wound you. But I've seen the truth of my feelings for you now, and I know them. I cannot love you, I just simply cannot.”

“I don't believe it.”

“Please try. Ye gods, Maryn, you've got a wife who loves you more than life itself! Why must you have me, too?”

Much to her surprise he considered the question, his eyes grave. “I have the wife the kingdom demanded,” he said at length. “But I'm a man like any other. What man do you know who's content with one woman all his life?”

She'd made a tactical mistake, she realized. The only man she'd ever known to be content with one woman was her foster-father. How to turn the prince's thrust aside? She felt her breath halt in her throat, and she gulped for air. Maryn got up and held out his hand.

“Are you all right?” he said. “Come sit down, and I'll stand.”

She shook her head no and caught her breath at last. “Maryn, please,” she said. “Have all the women you want. I just can't be one of them.”

“It's because you pity her, isn't it?” Maryn said. “Bellyra, I mean.”

“That's somewhat of it, Your Highness. You're the prince and may do as you like, but I'd not be the woman who adds to the princess's grief.”

“Oh come now! Bellyra was raised to be a king's wife. Our marriage was arranged when we were but children.”

“So? That means you love her the less, but it's different for her.”

“Nevyn's behind this, isn't he? No doubt he thinks you need to concentrate on your studies or some such. Or is he in love with you himself?”

“That thought dishonors you, Your Highness. Of course not!”

Maryn started to answer, then merely scowled with his lower lip stuck out. Lilli suddenly saw him as a child, a big,
hulking child in a man's body, not much older than Prince Casyl, perhaps, screaming when his nursemaid took away some dangerous toy. Involuntarily she took a step back.

“Oh ye gods,” Maryn said. “Don't fear me! That's the most unkind thing you've done.”

Just in time Lilli stopped herself from blurting out the truth of her reaction. Instead she laid a hand on her throat as if, indeed, she feared he'd strike her. Maryn tossed his head and stamped one foot upon the floor.

“Very well,” he snarled. “You no longer love me. Far be it from me to force myself upon some unwilling lass. But we'll see, my fine lady, how long your resolve lasts.” He bowed to her with a mocking flourish of his hand, then turned and strode out of the chamber.

Lilli listened until his footsteps had died away, then rushed to the door, shut it, and barred it. She leaned her head against its solid wood and concentrated on breathing. In some short while her tormented lungs began to ease. She walked over to her chair and sat down, staring out the window, where the stars glittered, cold and fierce in the warm summer night.

“I'm going to miss him,” she said aloud.

The moment she spoke she knew that she'd lied. What she felt was profound relief, that at last her mind and heart belonged to the dweomer alone.

Nevyn was in the great hall, talking with young Prince Riddmar, when Maryn came hurrying down the staircase. Since the Wildfolk lent strength to his every mood, his rage announced itself to everyone around. This late there were few riders or lords about to see the display, and Nevyn was glad of it. Maryn stormed across the hall, yelling at a page who approached him, kicking a dog out of his way, snarling at a servant lass to get him mead and be quick about it. He threw himself into his chair at the table of honor and scowled at Riddmar and Nevyn impartially. “Get to bed, Riddo,” Maryn said. “Now.” All wide eyes, the boy got up and started to bow. Maryn raised himself half out of his chair. Riddmar turned and ran for the staircase. Maryn sat back down. The servant lass
crept toward him with a goblet in her hand; Maryn snatched it out of her grasp and let her run, too. Nevyn waited to speak until he'd drunk half the goblet straight off.

“Your Highness seems distressed about somewhat,” Nevyn said.

Maryn glared at him over the rim of the goblet, then took another sip.

“Treachery among your vassals?” Nevyn went on.

Maryn lowered the goblet and sighed. “You'll hear the truth of it anyway,” he said. “Your apprentice has decided that she loves me no longer.”

“Ah. I see.”

“She tells me that you had naught to do with this.”

“I didn't. I'm as surprised as you are.” Nevyn spoke the simple truth. He'd never thought that Lilli would be able to hold to her resolve.

“Very well.” Maryn stared into his goblet and swirled the mead. “The kingdom's full of lovely lasses.”

“It is.”

“Some of them a good bit more womanly than her. Ye gods, people must think I'm a miser. My wife and my mistress both look half-starved.” Maryn's mouth twisted. “Forgive me, I mean my former mistress.”

Those few people in the great hall had all turned to watch their prince; they stood silently, staring at him. Maryn finished the mead in another long swallow.

“I'm retiring to my apartments.” Maryn stood up. “Tomorrow we'll need to meet in council.”

“Whenever His Highness commands.”

Maryn stalked off, kicking another dog, grabbing a wayward chair and throwing it to the floor. He bounded up the staircase. Nevyn had the feeling that everyone in the hall held their breath until at last he disappeared at the top. It was a lucky thing, he decided, that the prince had a good many urgent affairs of state these days to occupy his mind.

The prince had been gone but a little while, and Nevyn himself was thinking of leaving the great hall, when

Lady Elyssa came hurrying down the staircase. She glanced around, saw Nevyn, and trotted over to him.

“My lord,” Elyssa said. “There's somewhat I need to ask you.”

“Let me guess. You want to know if it's true that Lilli's ended her affair with the prince.”

“Exactly that.” Elyssa smiled, but wryly. “Do you know?”

“The prince himself told me, and I see no reason for him to lie.”

“Me either.” Her smile turned sunny. “I'll just be getting back, then. This will gladden Her Highness's heart.”

With Nevyn home, Lilli returned to her habit of fetching them both breakfast on her way to his tower room. When she went down that next morning, she was terrified that Maryn would be in the great hall, but a page told her that the prince had risen early and gone out for a ride on his favorite horse.

“Not alone, surely?” Lilli said.

“Of course not, my lady. His silver daggers went with him.”

Lilli got a basket of bread and a chunk of cheese from a servant lass, then carried it to the main door. On the threshold she hesitated, because out in the main ward the grooms, pages, and menservants were leading the stabled horses out to drink in the watering troughs, so many that she might get kicked or stepped upon in the confusion. In the clammy heat, the smell of horse lay thick under a cloudy sky. Lilli turned back, crossed the great hall, and started out the back door in order to go round to Nevyn's broch by another way. Familiar voices stopped her, sounding just outside, talking and laughing together: Degwa and Oggyn. Rather than face Degwa's haughty looks, Lilli waited, hoping they'd just move on.

Degwa was telling Oggyn some long involved anecdote about Bellyra while he encouraged her with questions. Lilli waited, listening to Degwa prattle on about the princess and her doings.

“Well, I'm sure it's all innocent enough,” Degwa was saying. “Elyssa tells me I'm a dolt to worry, but really, that awful bard! He seems entirely too devoted to her, if you take my meaning.”

“Oh, I think me I do,” Oggyn said, and something about his voice made Lilli think of warm grease sliding over meat. “I do indeed.”

“I just worry, that's all. Now I really must be going, Oggo dearest. No doubt our princess needs me.”

“I'll walk with you, my love.”

Lilli waited until they were well past before she stepped outside, but for the rest of that afternoon she kept an eye on Degwa and her doings until at last she could catch her alone. Lilli put some thought into her approach as well. If she admitted that she'd overheard the conversation, Degwa would turn furious and thus avoid what she had to say. Clodda inadvertently gave her the perfect opening. Lilli had gone to her chamber and found her maidservant shaking out the blankets at the open window. They chatted a bit about very little at first.

“My lady,” Clodda said after a few moments. “Somewhat's troubling me.”

“What?” Lilli said. “You know you can tell me.”

“Well, I know I've no call to be speaking ill of the noble-born, but it's Lady Degwa. Some of the princess's servants say that Lady Degwa's been gossiping about Her Highness and that silver dagger bard.”

“Oh by the gods!”

“I didn't like it, I didn't, but Lady Degwa won't be listening to the likes of me.”

“Oh, don't you worry! I'll speak with her and straightaway.”

Lilli stormed out of the chamber. When she went to the women's hall she found Degwa gone, but Lilli discovered her down in the great hall, where she was standing near the wall and looking around as if she were waiting for someone. At the sight of Lilli, Degwa drew back as if she'd seen a poisonous snake, but Lilli planted herself between her and the door.

“I need to talk with you,” Lilli said. “About your suitor. Some of the servants have come to me with troubling gossip.”

Degwa let her sneer fade.

“They say you tell Oggyn about our princess's doings.”

“So?” Degwa said. “The doings of the noble-born are always of interest. Why shouldn't I give him bits of news?”

“News is one thing. Suspicions are another. The servant lasses are gossiping behind Bellyra's back, too.”

Degwa stared, honestly puzzled, judging from the look on her face.

“About her escort,” Lilli said at last.

“Oh. The bard?”

“Him, truly. They tell me you hint at goings-on.”

“What? I never!”

In anyone else, Lilli would have suspected duplicity, but with Degwa?

“Well, then,” Lilli went on, “where are they getting these ideas?”

“I might have said a few words about that Maddyn.” Degwa suddenly flushed scarlet. “I don't like him, and I don't trust him, and I particularly don't like the way he follows our princess about. But by the Goddess, I'm sure Her Highness never gives him the slightest word of encouragement.”

“People often take things in ways you don't mean them. Please, Decci? You shouldn't even be hinting of gossip about our princess. Gossip always works more harm than witchcraft, sooner or later. You've been at court for years. You know it's true.”

For a moment Degwa hesitated, thinking; then with a toss of her head she pushed past Lilli and hurried up the stairs.

“Well, I did try,” Lilli muttered. She decided that when Nevyn came to her chamber at the dinner hour she'd lay the matter before him.

Unfortunately, she had no way of knowing that evening would be too late.

That afternoon the prince sent pages to fetch Nevyn and Oggyn for an informal council up in his private chambers.
They sat around a small table and studied the maps of Deverry laid out there. Through the open windows, Nevyn could see a sky gone dark with rain clouds, but the heat of the day covered the men like an unwelcome blanket. Oggyn kept wiping his bald head with a rag; sweat stuck the prince's shirt to his chest. A circle of flies danced and droned in the center of the room.

“I've called you here to discuss the matter of lands that once belonged to the Boar clan,” Maryn said. “In particular, those that rightfully belong to the heirs of the Wolf.”

“Indeed,” Nevyn said. “The village of Blaeddbyr and the lands around it. I've forgotten how extensive they once were.”

“I've got it here, all written out.” Oggyn laid a scrap of parchment on the table. “The old records are most reliable. I copied this from an old proclamation of the false king, the one where he was handing the Wolf lands over to the Boar clan.”

“Good thinking.” Maryn picked it up. “The Boars wouldn't have let an ell's worth of land slip their grasp. No doubt it listed every stile and dungheap.”

Oggyn smiled, leaned back in his chair, then rested his clasped hands on his ample stomach. He looked entirely too pleased with himself by Nevyn's standards.

“Now, I'm mindful of the old ruling concerning the Wolf lands,” Maryn went on. “They're inherited through the female line, so the new lord of the Wolf will be the husband of Lady Degwa's eldest daughter.”

“Just so,” Nevyn said. “She's married to the man who's the younger son of Gwerbret Ammerwdd's wife's sister. I think I've got that right, anyhow.”

“Any connection with Yvrodur will do.” Maryn grinned at him. “Tenuous though it may be. I'll call him to court once I've been proclaimed high king.”

“That will be soon, won't it, Your Highness?” Oggyn leaned forward. “I trust the priests won't be raising new obstacles to your kingship.”

“None,” Nevyn said. “They've even found a white
mare. Just like dweomer, it was, how fast they found her once Braemys had taken himself away.”

All three of them laughed.

“Then the omens are all good,” Oggyn said. “I'm so pleased. I was afeared that some dark thing might blight them.”

“Such as?” Maryn said. “The well-known greed of priests?”

“Just that, Your Highness.” Suddenly Oggyn looked away, as if he'd had a troubling thought. He paused for a long moment before he said, “Just that. Naught more.”

Maryn's eyes grew narrow as he considered the councillor. Nevyn felt a touch of cold run down his back: danger.

“What troubles you?” Maryn said. “Somewhat does.”

“Er, naught, naught.” Oggyn was looking at the far wall. “Just an idle fancy. I'm sure it means nothing at all.”

“What?” Maryn snapped.

“Uh er, well, the gossip—and I'm sure that's all it is, Your Highness. The silly gossip of women who envy your wife.”