Yet the time inevitably came when she could no longer lie to herself. The first snow arrived on the north wind and fell hard all day, but the wind drove it off again by nightfall. From a window in the women’s hall Bellyra looked up at the stars in an achingly clear sky and saw a fat slice of moon shining in its waxing quarter. I should have had my bleeding before this—and it didn’t come last month as well. She stood gripping the windowsill with both hands and staring at the moon, while the cold night wind swirled around her.
“Your Highness?” Degwa came hurrying over. “Do come away from the window. You’ll get chilled.”
Bellyra nodded and sat down in her chair by the fire, where Lilli and Elyssa sat waiting, Elyssa in her chair, Lilli on a cushion right at the hearth. Degwa hung the oxhide drape back over the window, then dragged a chair over to join them in the dancing light.
“Is somewhat wrong, Your Highness?” Lilli said.
“Oh, naught, naught. I’m a bit distracted, that’s all. I was thinking about my book.”
They were all watching her, all three of her serving women, with such concern that she felt like screaming at them. She leaned her head against the high back of the chair and stared at the ceiling. Spiderwebs heavy with dust hung in a long fringe from the oak beams.
“My lady?” Elyssa said. “Somewhat’s wrong. Please tell us.”
“I think I’m with child again. Or wait, that’s not true. I know I’m with child. I can feel it, I’ve missed two bleedings, and ah Goddess, how I hate this.”
They all spoke at once in soft voices, reassurances and little flatteries. It would be better this time, they would all be there to help, her lord would be so happy at another heir—
“Please don’t!” Bellyra snapped. “Please don’t lie to me!”
The voices stopped. The spiderwebs waved like grey plumes, back and forth. In her view Elyssa appeared, leaning over her chair.
“Well, of course it’s going to be awful,” Elyssa said calmly. “But this time we won’t just stand around and hope for the best like half-wits. We’ll be ready to ward it off.”
“The madness, I suppose you mean?”
“Just that. If it happens.”
Bellyra felt her cold hands start shaking. She rubbed them together and berated herself for demanding honesty.
“It might not, Your Highness,” Degwa said. “Each time’s different, or so they say.”
By the fire Lilli sat crouched on her cushion. Like a cat, Bellyra thought, a cat when she sees prey. She leaned forward in her chair.
“Maryn’s going to run right back to you,” Bellyra said. “I suppose you realize that.”
Lilli threw her head back and went stiff—more like the prey than the cat, all of a sudden. With one smooth motion Elyssa knelt beside Bellyra’s chair and laid a hand on her arm.
“My lady,” Elyssa said. “Please! Think well on your words.”
Bellyra knew that she was right, but Lilli looked so pretty, so young there on her cushion, all wide eyes and gold hair—no wonder Maryn’s fascinated with her, Bellyra thought, her and her slender little waist!
“Is this what you’ve been hoping for?” Bellyra got up and took a step toward the girl. “He’ll desert my bed, you know. He did the last two times. And there you are, waiting for him. Well, aren’t you?”
Lilli scrambled up, her mouth working, her face glistening with tears. For a brief moment Bellyra felt as if the scene had turned to a painted design such as a scribe puts in the margin of a book. She could see them all clearly in the firelight: Elyssa kneeling beside her, one hand raised; Degwa with her hands clasped over her mouth; Lilli, weeping with the firelight bright on her face. Bellyra knew that she should apologize, go to the girl and clasp her hand, mutter some reassurance. It seemed that she had all the time in the world to decide, since Time had stopped around them. She felt her face crease in a smile, and some sharp thing deep in her mind goaded her.
“You little slut!” Bellyra snarled. “I hope he does the same to you. I hope he gives you twins and the three of you die of him. Get out of here! Get out of my sight!”
Lilli sobbed aloud and ran for the door. She grabbed the bar and tried to raise it, but she struggled, wrestling with its weight. Bellyra grabbed a silver goblet from the nearest table and for a moment stood, listening to her mind scream at her to stop and sit down. Rage twitched her arm, and she threw the goblet as hard as she could, with more force, it seemed, than she’d ever summoned in her life. It struck Lilli full in the back just as the girl opened the door. She shrieked and ran, leaving the door swaying on its hinges behind her.
“Oh gods,” Bellyra whispered. “What have I done?”
She sank into her chair and sobbed, rocking back and forth. She heard Elyssa mutter something to Degwa, then Elyssa threw her arms around her.
“Oh Lyrra, Lyrra,” Elyssa said, over and over. “It will be all right this time. We’ll make it all right this time.”
The tears stopped at last. Bellyra wiped her face on her sleeve and looked over Elyssa’s shoulder. Degwa was gone and the door shut.
“I wanted to kill her,” Bellyra said. “And it’s not even her fault.”
“Isn’t it?” Elyssa said. “But truly, that was a bit much of a queenly gesture, heaving the royal silver at her, I mean.”
Elyssa smiled, trying to turn a jest, Bellyra supposed. In a few moments Elyssa let the smile fade and settled back on her knees. Bellyra leaned back in her chair and watched the dust plumes waving in the draughts. She still felt as if she viewed a picture of herself; she had merely turned the page in that hypothetical illuminated book.
“There are the herbs and suchlike,” Elyssa said at last. “We’ve all heard the old women talking—”
“I know, but I can’t do that.” Bellyra shuddered, shaking her head. “Not to Maryn’s child, I just can’t.”
“They could kill you, too, anyway, those herbs, if they went the least wrong.”
“Oh, I’m mindful of that. Never fear.”
With a sigh Elyssa stood and stretched her back with her hands on her hips. In the fire a log burned through and dropped. Glowing coals flew onto the hearthstones. Elyssa hurried to the hearth and knelt, reaching for the poker. Bellyra watched her flicking the coals back into the fire.
“I’m really going to have to apologize to Lilli, I suppose,” Bellyra said at length. “That goblet must have stung.”
“She’s young.” Elyssa glanced over her shoulder. “She’ll survive. And you’re the princess. She has no right to an apology from you.”
Bellyra was about to agree when her detachment deserted her. A wave of fear turned so cold that she nearly vomited.
“Oh ye gods,” Bellyra whispered. “What if she tells Maryn?”
She could not talk, she could not sit upright, she curled over herself and twisted in the chair until she lay sideways in it like a child sore from a beating. The wood bit into her side and legs; she curled the tighter and wept.
“Goddess help!” Elyssa came rushing over. “Lyrra, don’t, don’t!”
She heard the door open, heard Degwa call out in alarum. She felt their hands on her arms, let them raise her up, let them help her stand, but still the tears came in long sobs.
“If she says one wrong word to your husband,” Degwa said, “I’ll beat her black-and-blue, and I’ll wager she knows it, too. I gave her a good talking-to, I did.”
Tears and more tears—even in the midst of them Bellyra found herself thinking: so this is what shame feels like. No wonder the men would rather die than be shamed. With the thought, with the distancing it brought her, she could stop weeping at last. When Degwa brought her a rag dipped in cold water, she took it with a muttered “my thanks” and wiped her face methodically, starting at the eyes and working outward in a spiral.
“Ah ye gods.” Bellyra handed the rag back. “I suppose I’d best tell Maryn about the child straightaway. I’m such a rotten poor liar.”
Elyssa handed her a goblet of wa
tered mead. Bellyra waved it away.
“I can’t bear to be muddled now,” Bellyra said. “I still don’t know what came over me.”
“Righteous indignation, that’s what,” Degwa said. “She’s still a Boarswoman, no matter what our Nevyn says. And we all know what that means!”
After Degwa left, Lilli sat for a long while on the edge of the bed and shivered in the winter cold of her chamber. Although a fire lay ready in the hearth, she had nothing to light it with. Normally she would have brought a candle or suchlike with her from the women’s hall. She could fetch a splint from the great hall, she supposed, or find a servant there to do it for her, but she could not force herself to move. If she went to the great hall, she was sure that everyone would be able to read her shame from her face. They would know that she’d lost the princess’s favor—doubtless forever—merely by looking at her.
When she could stand the cold no longer, she went to bed, fully dressed against the icy sheets. As her shivering eased, she fell asleep, but she dreamt of her mother, scolding her to eat more. You’re too thin, Merodda kept saying, thin as sticks, thin as sticks, and how will I find you a good husband now?
Lilli woke to grey dawnlight and her misery. The bed had finally got warm, and she curled up in her blankets, watching the gleam of light from the shutters brighten on the walls. She was remembering how generous Bellyra had been to her, an exile without so much as a horse for a dowry. She took you in, and you turned into a viper, Lilli told herself. Degwa’s right, I’m as bad as my wretched kin!
Lilli sat up, testing the air—so cold that her bruised back cramped in pain. She lay down again and pulled the blankets up as if she could stop her ears against the voice in her mind, reproaching her for an ingrate and a fool both, to turn the dun’s women against her. What would Bevva think, if word of this ever reached her in the Otherlands? Finally she managed to drift off to sleep.
When she woke, the sun had fully risen, and Maryn was just shutting the door after letting himself into her chamber. He was wearing a cloak over a pair of much-mended brigga and a shirt that hung sloppily over them; he was unshaved, uncombed, and more beautiful than she had ever seen him, or so it seemed to her.
“Good morrow,” he said. “Will you forgive me my long absence, my lady?”
Lilli shoved the blankets back and stood up, gathering words. You must do this, she told herself. You can do this!
“I see naught to forgive, Your Highness. Men’s affections change.” She took a deep breath. “So do women’s.”
He stood blinking at her.
“I have my betrothed, Your Highness,” Lilli said. “You have your wife.”
Maryn laughed. He pulled off the cloak and tossed it onto the floor.
“Beautifully put, my lady,” he said, grinning. “But utter nonsense. Please, please, won’t you take my apology? Truly, I know I’ve treated you badly, and I deserve your haughtiness.”
“I’m not being haughty! I don’t love you anymore.”
“Of course not.” Maryn leaned over and caught her by the shoulders. “I grovel at your feet, my lady, or I would if the floor weren’t so blasted cold.”
When he kissed her, all her resolve disappeared. She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him open-mouthed in return. He laughed, picked her up, and laid her down on the bed in one strong swing of his arms.
Elyssa opened the door of the women’s hall and let in Degwa, who was burdened with baskets of bread and cheese and a flagon of watered ale. Bellyra supposed that she had better eat something, but the very idea of food choked her.
“I met your husband upon the staircase, my lady,” Degwa said. “He seemed troubled.”
“I told him about the child, that’s why,” Bellyra said, “when we first woke. You know, I have my reasons for being devoted to him. He apologized. He looked at me ever so sadly and said that he was sorry he’d done such a thing to me.”
Her serving women exchanged a glance that was anything but admiring. Had Degwa seen Maryn with Lilli? Bellyra wondered. She decided that she couldn’t bear to ask. When Degwa walked over to the table near the princess’s chair, Elyssa took the flagon from her, then helped her set down the baskets.
“Do eat somewhat, Your Highness,” Elyssa said.
“In a bit. I’ve got to get out for some fresh air first. I simply must.” Bellyra rose and waved a vague hand at them. “But please, eat now. Don’t wait for me.”
Bellyra sent a maidservant for her cloak and clogs, then summoned her pages and her bodyguard. As they were walking down the spiral stairs, it occurred to her that she might see Lilli in the great hall. The thought gave her an odd sensation: a cold, weak feeling that made her tremble before it mercifully passed on. She hesitated for a moment halfway down and looked out over the great hall, mobbed with riders and servants. At the table of honor Nevyn and Oggyn sat talking. She saw neither Maryn nor Lilli.
Outside the crisp air made her gasp. With Maddyn beside her, she walked slowly, gauging each step on the slick cobbles before she took it. Her pages ran on ahead to scoop up handfuls of the clean bright snow. She paused, watching them fling snowballs at one another and listening to them laugh. She found herself remembering the child she’d been at their age: a solemn little girl, not given to laughing at much of anything.
“Your Highness?” Maddyn said. “Are you unwell? I hope I don’t speak above myself, but you’re as pale as the wretched snow.”
“Am I? It’s just the cold, truly. I’m not used to it.”
“Very well, then.” He was studying her face as if he could read truths upon it. “I don’t mean to presume.”
Bellyra turned away from his stare. She tipped her head back to look at the sky and saw the looming towers dance through tears.
“Oh, my lady,” Maddyn said, and his voice was as soft as a plucked harp. “It aches my heart to see you sad.”
“Does it?” She turned around and wiped her face on a fold of her cloak. “My thanks. I wish I were better at hiding it. I won’t be much of a queen if I can’t learn to lie.”
“Don’t jest!” He reached out his hand, then jerked it back. “Your Highness, forgive me! I forget myself.”
“Do you, Maddo? Then I envy you.”
Before he could answer she turned and ran, slipping a little on the icy cobbles, ran all the way back to the broch with her pages haring after, yelling “Your Highness, wait!” over and over. At the door she stopped, took a deep breath, arranged a smile, and walked decorously inside.
“Lilli, has the cough returned?” Nevyn said.
“It hasn’t, my lord. I’m just tired.”
Nevyn set his hands on his hips and studied her. In his tower room she was sitting in a spill of sunlight from the window. She slumped in the chair, and her pale face looked blotchy, as if perhaps she’d sat up late being sick.
“It’s not good for an apprentice to lie to her master,” Nevyn said at last. “Especially in our craft.”
“Well, in truth, I hurt my back.”
“Oh indeed? How?”
“I slipped on the stairs coming out of the women’s hall.”
When Nevyn opened the dweomer sight, he saw that she’d hardened her aura around her till it looked like grey stone.
“Lilli, don’t lie!”
“I’m sorry.” Lilli looked only at the floor while she spoke. “It was rather awful, actually. I was in the women’s hall, and the princess grew angry with me. Over Maryn, I mean, and she yelled at me and told me to get out.” Her voice shook badly. “She called me a little slut. And so I started to leave, and she threw somewhat, I’m not sure what it was, but it hit me in the back. It still hurts, my lord, so I’d say it left a bruise.”
Nevyn was about to call her a worse liar than before—but her aura revealed her to be telling the truth.
“Lean forward,” he said. “I want to see if there’s a swelling.” When he ran his fingertips down her back, he could feel the contusion clearly even through her pair of dresses. “I
should make you up a poultice for that.”
“Will it make it heal more quickly? I don’t want Maryn to see it. I’d better make up some story. He probably won’t be able to tell if I’m lying.”
“I doubt it very much, truly.” Nevyn sat down on the edge of his narrow cot. “I can see why you didn’t want to tell me.”
“I feel so shamed,” Lilli whispered. “I deserve a beating, no doubt, not just one blow.”
“Oh nonsense! Princess Bellyra’s never acted so harshly before, and the gods all know that Maryn’s given her plenty of reason to be. I wonder what could have possibly set her off like that? I—wait. What about our wretched tablet?”
“Oh.” Lilli’s eyes grew wide. “Could the curse have touched her somehow?”
“It’s but a guess, though it’s quite possible. Not that the dweomer spell forced her to turn on you. It doesn’t matter how powerful a dweomer you cast upon someone or some thing: you can never make them go against their own true nature. It’s possible that the curse will bring out the worst parts of people’s true natures.”
“I see. Do you think that Bellyra’s been angry with me from the beginning, but she didn’t let it out until the curse began working upon her?”
“Exactly. It takes dweomer to resist these things, and she has none.”
“Couldn’t you make another talisman that’s the opposite of this one? You know, it would make the good parts of everyone’s nature sing out and maybe drown out the bad.”
“By the gods! That’s a splendid idea.”
“But you won’t need a dead thing to make it work, will you?”
“Of course not. We’ll use a jewel of some sort instead, not a hard clear one, though.” Nevyn thought for a moment. “We’ll want a jewel with veins and depths for this job, an opal for instance, since it’s meant to operate upon the hidden parts of the soul. It would be a long job, maybe the work of years, but still, a job worth doing.”
“I’d hoped you could make it quickly. To counter the curse tablet, I mean.”
“I only wish.” Nevyn smiled at her. “Alas, that would take a dweomermaster with ten times my power—at least. But you’ve given me an idea. I’ve been afraid to destroy the tablet for fear the curse would redound upon our prince if I did, but to counter it might be another thing entirely. I might call down the Light perhaps and try to cleanse it somehow. It’s not clear in my mind yet, but I’ll meditate upon it. And then we’ll see what we shall see.”
The Black Raven Page 35
