"Kerr,.Katharine.-.Westlands.04.-.A.Time.Of.Justice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

That night, even though the chamberlain moaned and fussed, and the equerry blustered and wagged his finger, the women insisted on riding out without an escort, and since neither servitor could directly order Davylla to stay, ride out alone they did, just an hour after the moon rose. They left the city and followed the river road through the silvery night until they came to a tangled withy of hazels, growing close to the water's edge. There they tied up the horses and walked further on.
'This looks like a good spot,' Taurra announced. "Now here, Sevinna dearest. You come stand where you can see the moonlight on the river.'
When Sevinna took her place, the other women stood back, but Taurra took a stone-bladed knife out of her sack and knelt. Chanting as she worked, she cut a circle in the turf round Sevinna's feet. She took a bronze mirror out of the sack, laid that down nearby, fussing over it until it caught the moonlight, then cut a second circle round the mirror. She got up and joined the others, handing them each a bundle of herbs, tied with strips of black cloth.
'Now watch the mirror, Sevinna,' Taurra said, 'while we chant.'
The women formed a ring around Sevinna and began to circle, their voices soft and light, their steps solemn as they danced gravely widdershins. Aranrhodda! Aranrhodda! The chant was like a drug, muddling Sevinna's mind. She looked at the moonstruck mirror and tried to see something in the curved and distorted surface as the chanting went on and on.
'Kneel down,' Taurra called out. 'Kneel down and look.'
Feeling as if she were drunk, Sevinna did as she was bid. The moonlight caught the mirror and turned it silver, a misty colour on the pitted surface. The women chanted and sang as they moved in their round dance. Suddenly Sevinna wanted this thing over with.
'I see something!' she squealed.
Taurra stepped up the chant and led the women faster. In the distorted surface, Sevinna could see a pattern of shadow much like a face. She realized that if she'd heen in love with someone, it would have been easy to convince herself she saw him there. With one last wail of Aranrhodda's name, the chant stopped, and Babryan rushed over.
'Who did you see? Was he handsome?'
'He looked nice, but not handsome. With dark hair, and big dark eyes, and he seemed youngish and awfully kind. He was smiling at me, but he seemed to have a very lordly air about him.'
Babryan squealed and caught her hand. The others clustered round, Wbridda and Davylla talking, Taurra standing a bit to one side and smiling in a distant sort of way.
'Oh this was so wonderful!' Sevinna said. 'My thanks, Lady Taurra. We must do this for Baba and Bry, too.'
When Davylla slipped her arm through Taurra's, they began talking about the herbs that they'd used for the rite. Feeling a bit sick, Sevinna walked a few steps away and glanced at their horses, who suddenly stamped and tossed their heads. Something, someone, was moving in the copse. Sevinna stood frozen and wished they'd brought guards as she watched a figure slipping out of the trees and running to the riverbank. Yellow hair, bright in the moonlight, and a flash of silver at the belt - Jill!
'Sevvi, dearest!' Davylla called out. 'Come along. We must get back before the chamberlain worries himself into a snit.’
'Of course, my lady. I was just watching the moonlight on the water. So lovely.'
On the ride back, Sevinna decided that she wouldn't tell anyone about having seen Jill. All of a sudden, she remembered Jill's warnings about Taurra - so suddenly that she wondered how she could have forgotten them. She would have had little chance to discuss it, anyway, because all the way home Babryan chattered about the rite and begged Taurra to do the same for her.
'Of course, Baba, sweet, but we'll have to wait till the moon's perfectly full again. In the meantime, we'll have some nice chats and teach you what you need to know.'
Babryan smiled, as bright as the Moon herself.
A wedding meant feasts for the noble-born guests and largesse for the poor of the demesne. While Slaecca and Ylaena planned details, Dwaen leaned back in his chair and nursed a tankard of the dun's darkest ale. Every now and then, when his mother asked his opinion about cost, he would shrug and tell her to spend whatever they had. At length, when the women rose to leave the great hall, Slaecca lingered by his chair.
'Ah Gwin, my only hope is that I'll have the joy of seeing you married, too, before I die, and that might not be long now, at my age.’
'Mam, hold your tongue. Ruses don't suit you.'
Slaecca snorted and crossed her arms over her chest, but the gods spared Dwaen a tedium. The page burst into the hall and raced over.
‘Your Grace!' Laryn was too excited to kneel. 'Rhodry the silver dagger is here, and he knows where Lady Mallona is.'
'Ye gods!' Dwaen rose, slamming the tankard down in a spray of ale. 'Just Rhodry? Where's his lass?'
'I don't know.'
Dwaen raced outside to find Rhodry sitting on the cobbles in the ward. The silver dagger's hair was plastered slick with road dirt, and his shirt stuck to him with sweat, old and new. Behind him stood his own bay gelding, head down and weary, and a near-foundered roan. When Rhodry tried to get up, he stumbled into a splayed kneel. Dwaen knelt and steadied him by the shoulders.
'What have you done? Ridden all night?'
'Longer than that. Your Grace, we think Mallona's in Bclgwerger, and we're going to have a cursed rotten time prying her out, too. I've come to beg your aid.'
'Granted, of course. Get up. Let's go inside and get you some food. And then you'd best sleep.'
'Can't. No time, Your Grace. Jill's there alone, keeping a watch on her.'
Dwaen slipped his arm round Rhodry's shoulders and helped him stand, then led him inside, yelling at a servant to fetch the silver dagger meat and ale. While he ate, Rhodry told the story of their hunt.
'It truly might be her, mightn't it?' Dwaen said. 'Huh. It looks like Great Bel will bring her to justice, after all, and I'll do everything in my power to help him. Rhodry, I don't care what you say. You've got to get some sleep. I've got to send messengers to Coryc and ready my men. We can't leave immediately, anyway.'
Dwaen sent Laryn upstairs with Rhodry to find him a bed, then called Lalydd over for a conference. He had to send messengers off to Coryc first, then get the men and extra horses ready to travel - and fast. It didn't take dweomer to know that they had no time to waste upon the roads.
Ever since the moonlight ritual, Sevinna had been aware of Taurra turning her attention to Babryan and flattering her in the same way that she'd formerly flattered Sevinna. With Baba the treatment seemed more effective. Sevinna could see the younger girl becoming withdrawn and silent, turned in to herself on some private line of thought. She spent more and more time with Taurra, less and less with the other girls.
The third afternoon, Babryan returned to their chamber after one of these private sessions with her face dead-pale. She flopped into a chair by the window, where the sun streamed in, and reached up to rub her cheeks with both hands.
'I feel so cold,' she announced. 'Do you feel cold, Sewi?'
'Not at all. Do you want a cloak round you?'
'Oh, maybe not.' Babryan yawned hugely. 'I need a nap. Ye gods, I hope I'm not getting some fever.'
'Come lie down, then, and get under a coverlet.'
Sevinna got her settled, hovered round for a moment, then realized that Babryan had fallen straight asleep. Since in those days any illness might be a dangerous thing, she was frightened, wondering if there were fever in the dun, but she remembered her own peculiar experience with Lady Taurra, and the headache she'd got on the day of the mirror rite. She hurried down to the ward and sought out one of the kitchen maids.
'Gwarra, I have a favour to ask of you, and I'll give you a copper, too.'
'Well, gladly, my lady.'
'There's this silver dagger down in town, and I badly want to send her a message. If I gave you a note, do you think you could take it to her? It's got to be kept awfully secret.'
Gwarra smiled at the sight of coin.
‘That blonde lass, is it? Of course, my lady. I swear I won't say a word to anyone.'
But as Sevinna was walking back to the great hall, she looked up at the broch to see Lady Taurra standing in the window of the women's hall and looking down. Oh Goddess preserve! Sevinna thought. She saw me! And the Goddess to whom Sevinna was praying was no longer our Lady of the Cauldron, but the Holy Moon Herself.
There were times when Jill regretted not knowing how to read. She stared at Sevinna's note, turned it this way and that, and wished that Rhodry was there to interpret these strange marks on the bit of parchment. She looked over the crowded tavern room and wondered if any of the merchants and craftsmen there could read, and even more, if she dared trust any of them. Perhaps she could go to a priest, but a priest would ask awkward questions about her connections with the gwerbret's womenfolk. Yet, as she thought about it, she could puzzle out one meaning of the note: Sevinna had to be troubled if she'd risk sending it. Tucking it into her pocket, she hurried out of the tavern room and walked up to the dun.
At the gate, though, she received a rude welcome. The two guards looked her over, then moved, one stepping round behind her, the other grabbing her arm.
‘This must be her. Are you Jill?'