Days of Air and Darkness

by Katharine Kerr

  “This is awfully exciting,” Jill said at one point. “Your aunt seems to know everything worth knowing about the whole town.”

  “She does. Whenever my uncle’s away somewhere, she rules pretty much as his regent.”

  Later that afternoon, when her cousins were busy with their mother, Sevinna, as a substitute hostess, took Jill out to show her the garden—a rare thing in those days, even though it was just a square of lawn with floral borders and a stone sundial in the middle. Since Jill had never seen a sundial before, Sevinna explained how it worked and read off the legend engraved around the edge: time flies fast, so catch it while you can.

  “Sevvi, you know how to read!”

  “I do. I wheedled my father’s scribe into teaching me the letters and suchlike when I was little. I was so afraid of what my father would do when he found out, but he just laughed and said I could waste my time if I wanted to.”

  “He sounds like a kind man, truly.”

  “He is, and I honor him, but of course, we’re not rich or suchlike.”

  “Your uncle certainly is. I’ve never been inside a dun like this one before.”

  “Indeed? Does your clan live in one of the northern provinces?”

  “Well, my father lives in Eldidd, but I’m not noble-born or suchlike. He was the captain of Rhodry’s warband before Rhodry got exiled. I went with him when he rode away.”

  Jill’s tale led to Sevinna telling about her mother, and from there to the life of her whole clan, and the noble clans in the neighborhood, and the local gossip. Sevinna found herself rattling on and on while Jill listened with a flattering attention, speaking only to ask questions.

  “Now, I’m just dying of curiosity,” Jill said finally. “I’ll tell you why I was at Gram’s house if you’ll tell me why you were there.”

  “Fair enough. We wondered if you were buying a love charm or suchlike. Rhodry’s awfully good-looking.”

  “He is. It seems that every lass in the kingdom thinks so, too. He’s all I have in the world, after all, and I’d just die if he left me someday. After all, a woman’s got to fight with what poor weapons she can, doesn’t she?”

  “We do. You see, I’m here because my uncle’s going to make my marriage for me. I don’t want to have to marry some man I don’t like just because he’s got the right kin. So I’m learning how to make charms and suchlike.”

  “Oooh!” Jill’s eyes grew wide. “You actually know how?”

  “Just a little bit right now. We all—oh, here, I can’t tell you more than that unless you’ve sworn the oath to Aranrhodda.”

  “Of course I have. Why do you think Gram was helping me?”

  “Oh, splendid! Well, look, tonight you’ll have to come up to Baba and Bry’s hall. We can talk about it then, because Lady Caffa doesn’t know, you see. Baba’s sure that her mother would be furious.”

  “I’ll hold my tongue, I swear it. Oh, this is going to be splendid fun.”

  “Ye gods,” Jill said. “These noble ladies are always eating! It seems like they just finish one plate of sweetmeats when a servant brings another. It would be awfully easy to poison someone if you wanted to.”

  “And why are you thinking of poisons?” Rhodry said.

  “Because of Mallona. Why else?”

  They were sitting in their chamber in Tudvulc’s broch, a little room and poorly furnished. Tudvulc’s chamberlain was terrified of offending Rhodry’s powerful brother by being too hospitable to a man he’d exiled, and Rhodry saw no reason to argue about it. Besides, the room was tucked into an obscure segment of one of the half-brochs, where they weren’t likely to be overheard, compensation enough for the lack of embroidered coverlets.

  “The gwerbret tells me that the ladies are going a-visiting soon,” Rhodry said. “Have you heard that?”

  “I have. They’re going to show Sevinna off to possible suitors in another demesne. Lady Caffa takes her responsibility to her niece very seriously. They’ll be staying with someone called Lady Davylla. As far as I can tell, she’s the one who taught Babryan and Wbridda about all these love charms and things. Ych! It’s all such silly stuff!”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’m not sure.” Jill shrugged uneasily. “But I do know it, just somehow. There’s no dweomer in it at all. But that doesn’t matter. What does matter is I overheard Caffa talking to Babryan about some other guest Davylla had.”

  “A guest? So? Women of their rank visit back and forth all the time.”

  “This guest seems to have just been put aside by her husband, and she’s supposed to be ill, but no one’s ever heard of her before. The wife of some very obscure lord, Caffa said. And a very obscure cousin of Davylla’s, someone Caffa’s never met. But Caffa knows just everything about everybody.”

  “Oh. Ye gods! Do you think it could be?”

  “Do we have any other trail to follow?”

  “None, truly. It’s off to Lady Davylla’s town we go.”

  “I do think we’d best get there ahead of them, too, just to look round, like. Can’t you tell Tudvulc that you feel unworthy of the honor he’s paying you, and that we’d best ride on, undeserving wretches that we are?”

  “Naught easier, since that’s the way I feel.”

  On the morrow, Rhodry sought the gwerbret out and found him in a private council chamber, where he was talking over a matter of bridge taxes with the head of the merchant guild. Rhodry knelt at the gwerbret’s side and waited until the merchant took his leave, all bows and smiles.

  “Your Grace,” Rhodry said, “I’ve come to beg your permission to leave your broch. You’ve already done far too much for a dishonored man like me.”

  “Horseshit! ’Twas naught, naught. Get up lad, and take a proper chair. You’re welcome here as long as you want to stay.”

  “My humble thanks.” Rhodry got up and sat. “But truly, it’s time I did take leave of your grace.”

  “Somewhat to do with this murderess you’re tracking down?”

  “Just that, but I’ll beg His Grace to keep the matter to himself. We’ve found a hint that the lady might be to the west of here. May I consult with His Grace on a point of the laws?”

  “Of course.”

  “What if our murderess has taken shelter with a high-ranking lady who’s determined to protect her at any cost? This lady might persuade her husband to refuse to surrender his guest. After all, his honor would be at stake.”

  Tudvulc stroked his grizzled mustache while he thought.

  “A cursed wasp’s nest,” he spat out at last. “If she’s out of Coryc of Caenmetyn’s boundary of jurisdiction, he’d have to persuade the local gwerbret that taking the lady was worth a war with one of his vassals. That would be a very difficult thing to persuade any man to do.”

  “So I thought. And Coryc would never be allowed to ride down with his own men and wage the war.”

  “Would he even want to? This woman sounds like a hell-fiend, truly, and an impious little bitch, but is punishing her worth an outright war, especially with another gwerbret, say, if that gwerbret took up his vassal’s cause? He might send to the king’s justice, of course, but that’ll take years to sort out in the court.”

  “Just so. I’d hate to see her get out of this without so much as an angry word. Well, we’ll have to persuade this lord that the lady isn’t worth his and his wife’s protection.”

  “If she’s a witch, that might be hard to do,” Tudvulc said, grinning. “She might ensorcel him, eh? Hah! The nonsense these women believe. I’m cursed glad there’s none of that going on in my dun.”

  It took all of Rhodry’s will to stay silent.

  “Well, good luck, lad,” Tudvulc went on. “You’re going to need it, eh? Now listen, Rhodry, don’t be such a stiff-necked bastard from now on. I’m willing to shelter you, and you know cursed well Blaen of Cwm Peel would take you in. No need to wander the roads like a wretched beggar. Come to me or Blaen, get yourself a position with one of us. I can always call you my e
querry or suchlike. Always need another good man around, eh?”

  “His Grace is most generous. But I’ve poured myself this cup of shame, and I’ll drink it down.”

  “Don’t be a dolt, man! Doesn’t matter to me if your brother takes umbrage at me sheltering you. I don’t have any alliances with Rhys, won’t need one, either. Eldidd’s a blasted long way away. You think it over once you’ve caught this foaming bitch.”

  “My thanks, Your Grace, for your generosity to a shamed man. I’ll think about your offer.”

  Rhodry rose and bowed, then fled to the ward. He was tempted, seriously tempted, by Tudvulc’s generosity, but he knew that taking it would cause political problems touching the High King himself. Rhodry’s brother Rhys, Gwerbret Aberwyn, hated him so bitterly that no doubt he’d find a way to challenge any lord, no matter how powerful, who took his younger brother in. The challenge would be the king’s affair to settle, at great cost to His Highness. Exile or not, silver dagger or not, Rhodry considered himself the king’s vassal still, and one who had sworn a sacred oath to put his liege’s needs above his own. With a toss of his head, he shrugged the temptation off and strode back to their chamber, where he found Jill waiting.

  “That’s that, my love. We’ll be on the road on the morrow. No doubt you’ll be glad of it, too. This must have been tedious for you, sitting about with the womenfolk.”

  “It wasn’t. I like them all, truly, and you can’t blame them for worrying about the right match. I tell you, Rhoddo, I’m more determined to hunt Mallona out than ever. I still pity her, but she’s like a fox among chickens. What if one of these ladies stood in her way?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be pretty, would it? We’ll do our best to make sure the lovely Lady Mallona gets a long neck from the gwerbret. Here, did you arrange to get in touch with the lasses once they reach Belgwerger?”

  “I did, and they assure me they’ll find some way for me to meet Davylla at least, if not her guest. It should work out well.”

  Although Belgwerger was a decent size, with close to eight thousand people, its lord’s dun looked definitely shabby compared to the iron-supported splendor of Lughcarn, and the town itself had none of the feel of a place where money flows like a river, Rhodry and Jill found a quite decent tavern where the innkeep wasn’t too proud to take a silver dagger’s coin. There they spent an edgy pair of days, trying to keep out of sight while watching what might be happening in the town. Several times they saw Lord Elyc riding out of the dun with his warband, but never did they see any of his womenfolk.

  Finally, as they were lounging near the east gate of the city on a late afternoon, the traveling party from Lughcarn rode in: the three lasses on their palfreys, a servingwoman for a chaperon, a couple of pages, a small cart of clothes and traveling gear, a pair of servants, and fifteen men of the warband, all looking profoundly bored with their duty as they brought up the rear.

  “No wonder it took them so blasted long to get here,” Rhodry muttered. “Traveling with a wretched cart!”

  “Just so,” Jill said. “Here, I’m going to make sure they see me.”

  On the streets, the crowd was hurrying out of the way, stepping into doorways and alleys as the procession made its slow way along. Jill worked through the crowd until she was at the edge of the street, then bowed as the lasses passed her. All three of them giggled and waved, and the servingwoman allowed herself a small smile in her direction. Once they were past, Jill came back and caught Rhodry’s arm.

  “Well and good, my love. If I don’t hear from them soon, I’ll go up to the palace and bribe a servant to take them a message.”

  Sevinna was surprised to find Lady Davylla young, with a pretty round face and a thick head of chestnut hair. At the dinner to celebrate their arrival, her ladyship kept the talk light, amusing her guests with talk of various weddings and other social events in her husband’s demesne, as well as chatter about her young daughter. Only once did the talk turn to her mysterious new dependent.

  “I take it Lady Taurra must still feel ill,” Babryan said, “since she’s not dining with us.”

  Davylla shot a small smile in Elyc’s direction and changed the subject.

  After the meal, they retired to Davylla’s hall, a pleasant round room, though sparsely furnished compared to the women’s quarters in Lughcarn. The servingwomen lit candles in the wall sconces, then retired when Davylla gave them leave to go. The girls sat down on cushions round the lady’s chair.

  “Now, you’ve got to promise not to breathe a word of this to anyone,” Davylla said, “but Lady Taurra’s not truly ill. The poor woman, how she’s suffered! Her husband suspected her of having a lover, you see, so he turned her out of his house and sent her back to her kin. All they did was mock her for her shame, and she simply couldn’t bear it, so I offered to give her refuge.”

  “How simply appalling for her,” Babryan said. “She didn’t really have the lover, did she?”

  “She didn’t. Poor Taurra thinks that he was simply tired of her and took a chance to put her aside.”

  The girls all shuddered.

  “Taurra must have had an awful time on the roads,” Wbridda said. “Or did her brother give her an escort?”

  “He didn’t, the beast!” Davylla said. “He was trying to force her into a Moon Temple, but she’s got a different goddess to serve, so she just rode out on her own. It took her days to get here, the poor dear, and oh, it was so dangerous for her to be doing that.”

  “Oh, now here, Davylla dearest, I survived,” said a soft voice.

  Sevinna twisted round and saw a tall, graceful woman just coming in the door. Since she was a cast-off woman, she had her hair down and caught back in a simple clasp like a lass, even though she looked old enough to be the mother of a grown child. The hair was raven-dark, touched with gray at the temples, and her eyes were a deep cornflower blue, the mark of Eldidd blood somewhere in her clan. She made Davylla a curtsy, then sat down on a cushion by Sevinna.

  “Well, doubtless our goddess was looking out for you,” Davylla said. “But still, who knows what could have happened to you, wandering around like a common peddler?”

  Taurra smiled, and there was something odd about that smile, as if she knew some private joke that would be unpleasant to hear. As she looked the girls over, Sevinna’s unease deepened at the hard assessment in those dark blue eyes. Oh, here now! she told herself, doubtless she’s just bitter about what happened to her.

  “I trust you lasses honor our Lady Davylla highly,” Taurra said. “She’s the most wonderful woman alive to take in a wretch like me.”

  “Not a wretch at all,” Davylla snapped. “I shan’t listen to that, Taurra. It’s your beastly husband who’s the wretch, and that’s that.”

  “Lord Gwell is no longer my husband, and I suppose I should count myself fortunate.”

  Taurra began to ask the three girls polite questions about themselves, as if she were turning the conversation away from her painful past. Sevinna supposed that such was the reason, anyway, because she seemed not in the least interested in their answers. As the evening wore on, Sevinna wondered if she really liked this woman. She was annoyed with herself for not liking her; after all, she’d suffered terribly and deserved pity, but there was something about the stiff way that Taurra held her head, something about the slow way she answered questions, something about the way her eyes would narrow as she looked at someone else, that made Sevinna feel like a cat faced with a dog.

  “Baba?” Sevinna said. “You should tell Lady Davylla about our friend Jill.”

  “So I should,” Babryan said. “My lady, the oddest thing happened just last week. A silver dagger came to our dun, and here it turned out to be Rhodry Maelwaedd, Lovyan’s son.”

  “By the Goddess herself!” Davylla gasped. “Now, fancy that!”

  “And he had a lass with him. She ran away from her family and everything to ride with Rhodry.”

  “Indeed?” Davylla allowed herself a grin. “I see tha
t Rhodry hasn’t changed much. I met him several times at court, you know. Oh, honestly, the way he had of looking a lass over!”

  In a flood of giggles and interruptions, Babryan told how they’d made a friend of Jill and how she, too, wanted to learn Aranrhodda’s lore. Sevinna noticed Taurra listening with a small fixed smile, her delicate mouth pressed thin as if she were in pain.

  “They’re in Belgwerger now,” Babryan finished up. “So we wondered if you’d like to meet her.”

  “That might be most amusing, even if she is common-born,” Davylla pronounced. “Perhaps we can send a page to find out where she and Rhodry are staying.”

  “Or would that distress Lady Taurra?” Sevinna put in.

  “Why would it?” Taurra turned dark eyes her way. “Frankly, I should like very much to see this lass. Probably she needs the Old Lore to handle a man such as this Rhodry seems to be. Perhaps I can offer her some advice.”

  On the morrow, Lady Taurra kept to her private chamber all morning, and Sevinna was frankly glad of it. While Lady Davylla was busy with her servants, Babryan and Wbridda took Sevinna to visit Clamodda, the Wise Woman who lived in a hut inside the ward of the palace. Since Clamodda had spent most of her life on a farm, she would have been uncomfortable living inside the palace itself, preferring a tiny wooden hut among the other servants, or so she told the girls. A tiny, wrinkled woman with wispy white hair, she’d lost all of her teeth years ago and was now losing her sight.

  “The eyes aren’t so keen anymore, my ladies. But thanks be to our Lady Davylla, I won’t starve before the gods see fit to take me to the Otherlands.” Clamodda peered into Sevinna’s face. “Now, here lass, you seem to be as pretty as your cousins here.”

  “I’ll hope so,” Sevinna said. “My thanks.”

  “I do hope you’re courteous to our Lady Davylla. Best woman in the world she is, and the kindest. I’ll be doing my best for her, I will. It’s a son she needs now, not another daughter, you see. Oh, you should have heard her husband, carrying on and berating her when the little lass was born. Well, we’ll just see about that, we will. We’ll just see if the next one isn’t a son, as nice and fat as you could want, too. I’m a-working on the charms right now, I am.”