Dragonspell. Katharine Kerr

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СКАЧАТЬ years ago when I was young, and, truly, I was indeed young once no matter what I look like now, I loved a woman named Brangwen, and I got myself betrothed to her. But I thought I loved my dweomer studies more.’ Nevyn heaved himself out of his chair and began to pace by the brazier. ‘There are a great many ins and outs to this story, most of which I’ve forgotten, but in the end, I betrayed her. Because of me, Brangwen died, and her brother, and an innocent man who loved her, too. That part I’ll never forget. And it fell to me to dig her grave and bury her. I was beside myself with guilt and grief that day, well and truly shrieking mad with shame. So I swore a vow, that never would I rest until I’d put things right. And from that day to this, I’ve done my best to put them right, over and over as Brangwen and the others were reborn and crossed my path, but I’ve failed every time, and so I’ve never gone to my rest.’

      ‘Are you telling me that the Great Ones accepted a vow like that?’

      ‘They did. Well, I’d broken one vow, hadn’t I? I suppose they wanted to see if I could keep the new one.’ He laughed, but there was no mirth in it. ‘Does it seem wonderful to you, living over four hundred years?’

      ‘It doesn’t, and especially not when I hear the weariness in your voice.’

      ‘Good. You’ll go far in the dweomer, Elaeno.’ Nevyn sat down again and sighed with a heavy exhaustion. ‘But keep that vow I will. Brangwen belongs to the dweomer, and by every god in the sky, I’ll make her see it this time or die trying – Oh by the hells, what a stupid excuse for a jest!’

      ‘This time? She’s been reborn, then, has she?’

      ‘She has. Jill, Cullyn of Cerrmor’s daughter.’

      Elaeno gaped.

      ‘The same lass that’s off with that lackwit Salamander,’ Nevyn said. ‘On her way to Bardek after Rhodry. The very same one indeed.’

      The storm blew itself out finally after two long days of rain. Everyone was glad to get free of the enforced leisure of drowsy hours spent huddled near the hearths in the great hall, and the ward was a-bustle that morning when Cullyn went out just to be going out, walking in the fresh and rain-washed air. He was strolling across the ward, aiming for the main gates merely to have a goal, but about halfway there he paused, struck by some odd observation that for a moment he couldn’t identify. Someone he’d passed, back by the wash-house, was somehow out of place. He turned back and saw a young man he vaguely recognized, Bryc by name, one of the undergrooms, but he was carrying a load of firewood, and his walk was wrong, not the shuffle or scramble of a servant, but the confident stride of a warrior. Cullyn hesitated only a moment before following him. Sure enough, Bryc carried the anomalous firewood right past first the wash-house, then the cookhouse as well. There was no other building where that firewood might belong between him and the outer walls.

      Cullyn stayed with him until the lad passed the armoury, then ducked into it, ran down to the door at the far end, and opened it a crack to look out. His hunch paid off. Bryc was indeed looking back to see if anyone was following him, but he did not notice that the armoury door was ever so slightly open. When he angled round a shed towards the broch complex, Cullyn slipped out and followed at a good distance, keeping close to the shadows of the various buildings. The lad never glanced back again until he reached the low brick wall that separated the gwerbret’s formal garden from the work-a-day rest of the ward. Cullyn hid in a doorway as Bryc unceremoniously dumped his load of firewood, looked cautiously around him, then leapt over the wall. As Cullyn went after, Bryc hurried across the lawn, where, some distance away, little Rhodda, Rhodry’s illegitimate daughter and only heir, played with a leather ball while her nursemaid, Tevylla, sat and sewed on a small stone bench. There was absolutely no reason for Bryc to be in the garden at all.

      With an oath, Cullyn drew his sword and broke into a run. He leapt the wall just as the fellow made a grab at the child. Screaming, Tevylla jumped up and hurled her sewing scissors at his head – a miss, but he had to duck and lost a precious moment. As he charged across the lawn, Cullyn saw that Bryc had a dagger and that he was swinging down.

      ‘Run, lass!’

      Rhodda twisted away and dodged as Bryc spun around, saw Cullyn coming, and turned to flee. Tevylla grabbed the leather ball and threw it under his feet. Down he went just as the captain reached him. He grabbed Bryc by the shirt, hauled him up, and broke his wrist with the flat of his sword. The dagger spun down to the grass. He kicked it far out of his prisoner’s reach.

      ‘Thanks be to the gods!’ Tevylla snatched it up. ‘Cullyn, I’m so glad you were right there.’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know. You seemed to be handling things pretty well on your own.’

      Tevylla shot him a weary sort of smile, then tucked the dagger into her kirtle and scooped Rhodda up. The child herself was oddly calm, only a bit pale as she stared at her rescuer for a moment, then turned in her nurse’s arms to look at the whimpering Bryc.

      ‘Get him,’ she said to no one in particular. ‘He’s nasty.’

      The lad screamed, twisted in the captain’s grasp, then threw himself this way and that in sincere pain while he screamed over and over again. When Cullyn, utterly startled, let him go he fell to the ground full-length and writhed and screamed the more.

      ‘Stop it!’ It was Nevyn, racing across the lawn. ‘Stop it right now, all of you! Rhodda, you wretched little beast!’

      Sobbing and gasping for breath, Bryc flopped onto his stomach and hid his face in folded arms. Cullyn realized that the lad’s arms and face were nicked and bleeding, as if a hundred cats had been clawing at him. While Tevylla stepped back in horror, Rhodda giggled and snickered until Nevyn glared her into silence.

      ‘Never ever do that again,’ the old man said.

      ‘But he had a knife. He was nasty, Gran.’

      ‘I know. I saw it all from the window. You waited until he was helpless, and that’s dishonourable. Well, didn’t you?’

      The child hung her head in shame.

      ‘What a sweet little poppet you have in your charge, Mistress Tevylla,’ Nevyn said. ‘She’s Rhodry’s daughter, sure enough.’

      ‘She’s a handful at times, truly, but here, good sir, you can’t be saying that she did all that.’ Tevylla pointed with one clog at the bleeding man on the ground.

      ‘You’ll have to take it on faith that she did, and you too, captain. Come here, Rhodda. I’m going to talk to you, and then we’re all going to go see your grandmother. Cullyn, drag that young dog along to the great hall.’

      When Nevyn left, Tevylla started after, but the old man irritably waved her away. Trembling a little, as if the shock had finally just caught up to her, she lingered to watch while Cullyn knelt down, grabbing Bryc by the shoulders and flopping him over like a caught fish. In his pain the lad cried out and stared up at the captain in bewilderment. Something was wrong with Bryc’s eyes, or so Cullyn thought of it. He’d never seen any man look so bewildered, so utterly lost and confused, as if his very eyes themselves had clouded over until he stared without truly seeing a thing.

      ‘Here, lad, have you gone blind?’

      ‘Not at all, but captain, where am I? My wrist!’ Whimpering from the effort, he held up his broken hand and stared at the blood running. ‘Did I fall? Did the dogs do this to me? What is this?’ His voice rose to an utterly sincere hysterical wail. ‘Tell me, for the СКАЧАТЬ