Although the other girls went with her, Sevinna begged a headache, hurrying inside before she could be stopped. She was planning nothing more than going back to the women’s hall, but as she passed Cenwyc’s reception chamber, she noticed the door open and his lordship gone. On sheer impulse, she stepped inside, glanced round, and noticed that someone seemed to have moved Jill’s gear along the floor.
“How very odd.”
She knelt down and opened the saddlebags only to make sure that none of the servants had stolen anything out of them. Tucked to one side gleamed Taurra’s jeweled brooch.
“Fancy that!”
Sevinna got up fast, looking round to make sure that no one had noticed, then stuffed the brooch into her kirtle and hurried out. As far as she could see, only one person in the dun could have or would have put the jewelry there. No doubt Taurra would have later made some new remark to Cenwyc that would have him searching the bags after all, and there the brooch would have been, clear evidence that would have got one of Jill’s hands chopped off in the public square.
For some time that day, Sevinna brooded clever ways to ensure the brooch was “found,” then decided that simplicity was always safest. Up in the women’s hall, Babryan and Taurra had left a sack of herbs and feather charms lying on the floor; Sevinna slipped the brooch between it and the wall. Sure enough, right before the girls went down to dinner, Babryan picked up the sack, then squealed aloud.
“Oh, look at this! It’s Taurra’s brooch!”
Feigning surprise, Sevinna rushed over with Wbridda right behind.
“It is, indeed,” Sevinna said. “By the Moon herself!”
“Huh, Baba,” Wbridda sneered. “So. It wasn’t Jill at all, was it now?”
“It wasn’t.” Babryan blushed scarlet. “I’m sorry, Bry. You were right, and I was wrong. Here, we’d best take this down with us straightaway.”
They found Lady Davylla sitting at the head of the honor table in her husband’s absence, with Taurra to her left and Lord Cenwyc to her right. When Babryan laid the brooch onto the table, Davylla leaned forward with a little squeal.
“Taurra, dearest! Here it is.”
“Why, so it is.” Taurra picked up the brooch and smiled, but never had Sevinna seen such a forced smile in her life. “Where did you find it?”
“Up in the women’s hall, my lady. Near that bag of our—things.”
“How stupid of me!” Taurra squeaked. “Oh, dear, I’ve done Jill such an injustice! I feel so absolutely doltish. How could I not have seen it there?”
She looked up, glancing at each girl in turn. When she fastened upon Sevinna, her eyes burned with such rage that Sevinna stepped sharply back in an unthinking admission of guilt. With a little smile, hastily stifled, Taurra looked away.
“I’m so terribly, terribly sorry.” Taurra spoke in a small and broken voice. “Oh, Davva, how can you ever forgive me? I’ve caused you all such trouble! I’ll never be able to look poor Jill in the face again, truly.”
“We must get her out of that awful prison.” Davylla turned to Cenwyc. “My lord?”
“As my lady wishes.” Cenwyc rose, then bowed. “I’ll turn her back out on the road where she belongs.”
“What? Naught of the sort!” Davylla rose to face him. “You’ll bring her directly to me, where I can apologize to her.”
“My lady is being most unwise. Truly, the wench seems innocent of this theft, my lady, but her kind’s not to be trusted.”
The stalemate held: Davylla was far superior in rank, but Cenwyc was, after all, a man. Sevinna hesitated, then decided that since she’d already shot the bow, she might as well swing the sword, too.
“My lady? Perhaps Jill won’t want to face you. May I go along with the equerry and give her your apology, rather like your envoy, shall we say?”
“Sevvi, dearest, I should be ever so grateful.” Davylla sighed. “I truly don’t know what to do. Do you think it would insult her if we offered her money?”
“No doubt. I’ll just have a word with her.”
Taurra put delicate fingers over her mouth, as if in shame, but when their eyes met, Sevinna felt her stomach clench cold.
With a sullen sort of courtesy, Lord Cenwyc escorted Sevinna out to the prison house and ordered the guard to bring Jill out while a page saddled her horse and fetched her gear. In a few minutes, Jill appeared, striding briskly out, her head held high, her eyes so haughty when she looked Cenwyc’s way that one would have thought her noble-born.
“Very well, lass. There’s been a mistake. The missing brooch has been found, and you’re free to go.”
“My most humble thanks, my lord,” Jill snapped. “I trust his lordship will think twice in the future before he commits injustice in the gwerbret’s name.”
Cenwyc merely scowled at her. Sevinna hurried forward and caught her arm.
“Let me walk with you to the stables. I’ll tell you how the brooch was found, if Lord Cenwyc will be so kind as to let us have a word alone.”
“As my lady wishes, of course.” Cenwyc bowed. “I’ll return to her ladyship.”
The two girls began walking toward the stable, but slowly, whispering as quietly as they could.
“I saw Taurra put the brooch in your saddlebags,” Sevinna said. “Or well, I didn’t truly see her, but we’d looked through your gear, and the brooch wasn’t there. Then I saw her near the room where your things were lying. When I looked in the bags, there it was. So I put it where Baba could find it.”
“I see. Taurra doesn’t suspect you, does she?”
“I have the most awful feeling she knows I did it. She’s awfully clever, Jill, and I’m not much good at hiding things.”
“Oh, by the gods! I’ll be forever grateful to you for this, but you’ve just made yourself an awfully dangerous enemy. I hope Cenwyc isn’t going to run me out of town.”
“That’s what he wants to do. I don’t know if Davylla will let him or not.”
“If I go, you’ve got to be careful—truly, truly careful.”
“Well, what can she even do to me, here in the dun?”
“Poison you, that’s what. Please, believe me! Taurra isn’t what she’s calling herself. She’s dangerous, and she’s already poisoned one person that I know of—her lover, it was.”
Sevinna caught her breath with a gasp and felt cold panic round her heart.
“I’d denounce her, but no one’s going to believe me,” Jill went on. “That’s where Rhodry went, to get noble-born witnesses. Is there any way you can all go home? I don’t want to leave you lasses here.”
“Well, there isn’t. I mean, I’d have to tell Davylla what you said, and you’re right. She’s never going to believe it.”
At the stables, they found Sunrise saddled and ready, with Jill’s bedroll tied on behind. The page handed over the reins, then trotted off to the great hall and his dinner. By then, twilight hung cold over the dun. Flickering light began to spill out the windows of the great hall as inside, torches were lit.
“Did you want to go inside?” Sevvi said. “Davva’s waiting for you, you see. She really does want to apologize.”
“I don’t think I want Taurra to get a look at me.” Jill was staring over Sevinna’s shoulder to the main gates of the broch. “How much do you weigh?”
“What? Not much over a hundred weight. Why?”
“I’ve got an idea. Come on, walk with me into the town, will you?”
“Oooh, do you think I dare?”
“I don’t think you dare not to. Please? I’ve got an idea. Look, the guards have gone off somewhere. It’s now or never.”
Sevinna hesitated, but she was remembering the hatred in Taurra’s eyes. Even more she remembered her herbs—lots of herbs—and the mastered lore to go with them.
“There’s no time,” Jill said. “Someone’s bound to come out here as soon as soon. Will you come with me or not?”
One last hesitation, and the memory of Taurra’s small smile of triumph.
/> “I will. Let’s hurry.”
They rushed out the gates with Sunrise clopping after them into nearly empty streets. Most of the townfolk had shut themselves up in the safety of their homes for the night. Jill jogged along fast, making Sevinna pant to keep up, until they were out of sight of the dun gates.
“They’ll be shutting up the town soon,” Jill said. “Quick! Get up behind my saddle. I’ll help you. We’re light enough so the horse can carry us both.”
Sevinna didn’t even stop to consider where they might be going. With Jill’s help, she scrambled up behind the saddle, sitting astride with her dresses awkwardly bunched round her hips. Jill swung herself up in front and urged the horse to a smart trot. They wound their way dangerously fast through the streets until they saw the town gates, open but guarded, ahead of them.
“Put your arms around my waist,” Jill said. “And hang on.”
Sevinna clasped her tight just as Jill kicked the horse hard. Yelling, the guards leapt back as Sunrise hurtled through the narrow gateway. They were out, galloping full tilt down the dangerously rutted road. Sevinna heard the guards screaming at them to halt, but she was too frightened to look back.
“Hang on!” Jill yelled.
She turned Sunrise off the road into a stubbled field. Sevinna clung to her as the horse leapt some low obstacle, stumbled, then gained his balance and raced forward. When Sevinna risked a glance round, she saw that they were turning to the east, where the moon was just rising. When they reached the scanty forest cover, Jill let the sweating horse slow to a walk and pick his way down a dark trail.
“I never would have tried this with an ordinary horse,” Jill said. “But he’s truly amazing, his stamina, I mean. Well, now we’ve got a bit of a lead. It’ll take Cenwyc a while to get the riders together to come after us, too.”
“Well, I hope so.” Sevinna heard her voice shaking. “I suppose this is awfully exciting.”
Jill laughed.
“Trust me, Sevvi. I swear it, you’ll be better off sleeping in a ditch tonight than eating at the same table with Lady Mallona.”
“With who?”
“That’s Taurra’s real name. She’s a murderess from up in Gwaentaer, and Rhodry and I have been hunting her down for the bounty on her head. Lord Cenwyc was right enough about one thing. I’m not truly fit company for the likes of you.”
It was impossible, and Rhodry knew it, for the tieryn and his warband to ride as fast as a speeded courier for the entire journey. Every sensible rest and delay stabbed him like a javelin point. Every day’s traveling stretched to a seeming month, though in fact, only four nights passed before they came to the road that would lead them straight to Belgwerger, some twelve miles on. Near the crossroads stood the dun of a lord that Dwaen knew well.
“We should stop here for the night,” the tieryn said to Rhodry. “It’s late afternoon, and the horses are tired.”
“True enough, Your Grace. As Your Grace wishes.”
“Even though you’re thinking of strangling me as I ride?” Dwaen turned in the saddle to grin at him. “I never thought I’d see a cold-blooded man like you so troubled.”
Rhodry could only shrug for an answer.
They rode on. On its low hill across a meadow, the lord’s dun loomed closer and closer. At the lane leading to its gates, Dwaen paused his line of march and turned in the saddle to call back to the men following him.
“We’re going to stop for a rest and a meal in a few miles, lads. Then we’re riding straight through to Belgwerger. If I pound on the gates in the king’s name, the night watch might let us in. If not, we’ll be there when they open in the morning.”
Rhodry laughed in a long peal. If they hadn’t been on horseback, he would have thrown his arms around Dwaen and hugged him.
Eventually, they found fresh water, a stream running through a fallow meadow beside the road. After they unsaddled the horses and let them roll, they watered them and set them at nose bags of oats. The men had to make do with whatever stale leftovers from the noon meal that they had left in their saddlebags. Rhodry and Dwaen ate standing up, strolling a little ways away from the others.
“Now, truly, it might be a good thing to sneak into town at night, anyway,” Dwaen said. “I don’t want Mallona getting word of our coming and running out the postern gate.”
“This time we’ll hunt her down if she tries, Your Grace. But she doubtless knows that she’s safest under Davylla’s wing.”
“Well, I’m going to have plenty to say to Lady Davylla.”
“True enough. If she’ll listen.”
Dwaen started to reply, then broke off at the sound of hooves coming. When Rhodry looked down the road, he saw to the west dust first pluming, then resolving itself into a horse that carried two riders. Jill’s horse! Rhodry recognized Sunrise’s color before he could actually see Jill. With a shout, he raced to meet her as she turned her mount into the meadow. Behind her sat a dirty and bedraggled Lady Sevinna.
“Saved!” Jill crowed out. “Here, Sevvi! The gods are on our side.”
Rhodry reached up and helped Sevinna down. She staggered, so sore from the unaccustomed posture of riding astride that she could barely stand. Jill swung herself down and laughed, dancing a few steps.
“It gladdens my heart to see you, Tieryn Dwaen,” Jill said. “May the lady and I throw ourselves on your protection?”
“My dear Jill, I haven’t ridden all this way just to spurn you. From what do you need protecting?”
“Lady Mallona, mostly, but I’ll wager Lord Elyc’s men are close behind us. They think I kidnapped Sevvi, you see. Your Grace, allow me to present Lady Sevinna, niece to Gwerbret Tudvulc of Lughcarn. Mallona was going to poison her.”
Sevinna caught her filthy skirts and made the tieryn a curtsy, which he returned with a bow.
“You’ll forgive my appearance, my lord. We slept in the woods last night.”
“A lady like you would be beautiful in rags,” Dwaen said. “Which indeed, that dress most resembles.”
Rhodry handed Jill the piece of cheese he’d been eating, while Dwaen offered his flatbread to the Lady Sevinna.
“This is the best we have to offer you at the moment, my lady. But we’ll be going to the shelter of that dun there.” Dwaen jerked his thumb back in the direction in which they’d come. “There’s not much use in pushing on to Belgwerger now.”
The dun turned out to belong to a certain Lord Rhannyr, a childhood friend of Dwaen’s—they had served as pages in the same dun, a situation that made either bitter enemies or lifelong friends of men. Surrounded by thick stone walls, it held only a squat broch and a few outbuildings, but it was shelter nonetheless. Rhannyr himself, sandy-haired and freckled, ran out into the ward to greet them.
“By the gods, Dwaen, it’s been years! To what do I owe this most welcome honor?”
“Trouble,” Dwaen said with a melancholy sigh. “May I bother you to close your gates? We’re being chased, you see.”
Rhannyr took one look at the Lady Sevinna, riding next to the tieryn on one of the extra horses, grinned as if drawing conclusions, and began yelling at his men to bar the gates and set a guard on the walls.
Rhannyr’s great hall occupied only half of the ground floor of the broch. Smoke-stained wickerwork partitions set it off from the kitchen, and through them they could hear the servants talking and swearing at their work. Rhannyr took Dwaen and his immediate party over to the table of honor at the hearth, told his captain to feed the men in the warband, then stuck his head in the kitchen door and yelled to the cook that they had hungry guests.
“Mead and meat soon,” Rhannyr announced, sitting himself down next to Dwaen. “You’ll forgive my lady for not joining us. She’s due to have another baby in a week or two.”
“Another one?” Dwaen said. “Ye gods! That makes four, doesn’t it?”
Rhannyr allowed himself a smug smile, then turned to Lady Sevinna.
“It troubles my heart to see a lady in distre
ss. How may I be of service to you and your tieryn?”
“Well, he’s not my tieryn, my lord,” Sevinna said. “But I happen to be fleeing from a murderess.”
Over the meal, Dwaen and Rhodry took turns telling their fascinated host the story, or as much of it as they knew. Rhodry would rather have heard what Jill had to say, but just as she was about to tell her part of the tale, they heard the shouts of the watchmen at the gates.
“There they are,” Jill said. “It took them a beastly long time, I must say! Elyc’s men can’t track as well as a blind peasant.”
Wiping his hands on his brigga, Rhannyr got up just as a young rider ran, yelling, into the hall.
“My lord? There’s fifteen men at the gates, and Elyc’s captain’s with them, and by the demons in the Hells, they’re furious.”
When Rhannyr went out, Rhodry and Dwaen followed him up to the catwalk on the wall directly above the gates. Down below, sullen on tired horses, the men in question bunched in ragtag formation. Rhannyr leaned over the rampart and yelled.
“Good eve, Ocsyn. What brings you to me?”
“A matter of kidnapping, my lord,” Ocsyn yelled back. “One of my lord’s guests, a young woman, was stolen away from the dun by a silver dagger. We tracked her to a place down the road where it looks like she met up with another party, and their tracks lead here.”
“So they do, because she’s inside, but she hasn’t been kidnapped. She fled of her own free will.” Rhannyr laid a hand on Dwaen’s shoulder. “This is Tieryn Dwaen of Dun Ebonlyn, and the lady is under his protection.”
“Oh, by the black ass of the Lord of Hell! Well, begging your pardon, my lord, but we’ve been chasing her all over the cursed countryside, and now you tell me the lady’s eloped!”
“Naught of the sort,” Dwaen yelped.
Rhannyr laughed and slapped him on the back. Down below, Ocsyn scratched his head while he thought things through. From the back of the warband, someone yelled at him to tell his grace about the messengers.
“Right enough,” Ocsyn said. “Here, my lords, the equerry sent messengers off to fetch Lord Elyc home, and then he sent another pair to Lughcarn to fetch Gwerbret Tudvulc, too, because this lady is Tudvulc’s niece. I’ll warn you, Tudvulc’s a bad man to face when he’s angry.”