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

'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 colour 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, Sewi! 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 curtsey, 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 none the less. 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 honour?'
'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 honour 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 distress. 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 rag-tag formation. Rhannyr leaned over the rampart and yelled.
'Good eve, Oesyn. What brings you to me?'
'A matter of kidnapping, rny 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.'
Dwaen groaned, rather loudly.
'You always were the very spirit of gallantry, Dwaen,' Rhannyr said, grinning. He leaned back over the rampart. 'Ocsyn, are you and the lads hungry? I'll send food out to you, but I'd best not offer you the shelter of my dun tonight. Things are complicated enough already.'
'just so, but we'll take the food gladly, my lord.’
When Rhodry climbed down, he found Jill waiting.
'There's naught like a good thick wall to make men polite,' she remarked. 'If they'd caught us on the road, we'd have been m for it good and proper.'
'Just so. I'm glad Tudvulc's on his way. He knows me, and he knows we've been tracking poisoners, and so he'll believe us easier than Elyc will.'
'Let us hope.' Dwaen joined them. 'Because if he doesn't, this is going to leave a stain on Lady Sevinna's honour.'
'Well, true,' Jill sighed. 'But I thought it would be better than having her killed.’
'A thousand times better,' Dwaen said. 'Oh well, if worst comes to worst, it's time I married, anyway.’
When both Jill and Rhodry stared at him, he smiled in a vague sort of way and strolled back to the great hall.
After a good wash, a night in a decent bed, and some real meals, Sevinna felt recovered enough to walk with Jill out in the ward, such as it was. A few cobbled paths led through mud and horse leavings. Servants strolled back and forth with buckets of slops or an armload of firewood; a page trotted past, scratching himself as he attended to some errand or other. Jill and Sevinna found themselves dodging chickens and trying to stay upwind of the pigsty.
'I know it's sensible to stay here and let Elyc and my uncle come to us,’ Sevinna said. 'But ych!'
'It's not Lughcarn, is it?'