like him.”
“Wasn't miserliness.” Grodyr's voice turned sour. “He accused me of being a poisoner.”
Lilli considered him narrow-eyed.
“It's doubtless a long tale,” Nevyn broke in. “Lilli, up in my chamber are three books of Bardekian medical lore. Would you bring them down? They belong to Grodyr here.”
“I shall, my lord.”
Lilli curtsied again, then trotted off on her errand. Just then Branoic popped out of the back door to the great hall, looked around, made a sketchy bow Nevyn's way, and took out running after her—a good thing, since the books were heavy. Nevyn turned back to Grodyr.
“Tell me somewhat,” Nevyn said. “This business of poisons. Is Lady Merodda mixed up in this?”
“She was, truly,” Grodyr said. “I heard, by the by, that your prince had her hanged. I have to admit that the news didn't ache my heart. Braemys accused me of supplying her with poisons. I did naught of the sort, I assure you.”
“Oh, I believe you. Here, why don't you shelter in the dun tonight? The prince is a generous man and won't begrudge you bread and board whether or not you take hisservice in the morning. I'd like to hear what you know about Lady Merodda.”
After he left the great hall, Maddyn considered going back to the barracks, then decided to climb up to the outer wall and make his way along the catwalk for some privacy. By then the sun was just setting, and a soft twilight was gathering over the dun. To the east a few stars gleamed against the darkening sky. With the firelight and lantern light flickering at the windows, the central broch looked for those few moments almost inviting. At the top of the wall Maddyn squeezed himself into a crenel and looked out over the hillside below. Near the bottom of the hill little fires bloomed in the encampment where the assembled war-bands sheltered behind the outermost wall. For all its size, Dun Deverry could never have quartered the entire army.
Maddyn's blue sprite materialized in midair, bringing a trace of silvery glow with her.
“Well, there you are,” Maddyn said. “I've not seen you in days.”
She smiled with a gleam of needle-sharp teeth.
“You weren't in the great hall just now,” Maddyn went on. “And a cursed good thing, too. I played a song I wish I'd never composed.”
She cocked her head to one side as if she were trying to understand.
“Having a bit of fun with Slimy Oggo is one thing. Tearing the poor bastard's pride to bits was quite another. Ah ye gods! That was the sourest revenge I've ever taken.”
The sprite looked at him for a long solemn moment, then shrugged and disappeared. Maddyn climbed back down from the wall and headed for the barracks. He wanted the company of his own kind.
Lilli heard about Oggyn's shaming from her maid, Clodda, who had watched the entire spectacle from the servant's side of the hall. She had, she told Lilli, climbed up onto a table for a good view.
“It was ever so awful, my lady,” Clodda said, but shewas grinning, and her eyes snapped with something suspiciously like delight. “Poor old Slimy Oggo. That's what the silver daggers call him, you know.”
“Oh really?” Lilli was smiling herself. “And how would you know? You've not been consorting with silver daggers, have you?”
Clodda blushed scarlet and busied herself with straightening the bedclothes. Morning sun poured in the window. Lilli moved her chair round so that she could sit in the warmth.
“It feels so good,” she remarked. “Did you see Lord Nevyn in the great hall?”
“I did, my lady. He told me he'd be up in a bit.”
Nevyn appeared but a few moments after. Clodda made a hurried excuse and fled the chamber; like most of the servants, she believed him to be a sorcerer of the sort found in bards' tales, who can turn men into frogs and talk with the spirits of the dead—though in a way, Nevyn told Lilli, he'd been if not raising a spirit then at least discussing one.
“Grodyr told me many an interesting
“Wasn't miserliness.” Grodyr's voice turned sour. “He accused me of being a poisoner.”
Lilli considered him narrow-eyed.
“It's doubtless a long tale,” Nevyn broke in. “Lilli, up in my chamber are three books of Bardekian medical lore. Would you bring them down? They belong to Grodyr here.”
“I shall, my lord.”
Lilli curtsied again, then trotted off on her errand. Just then Branoic popped out of the back door to the great hall, looked around, made a sketchy bow Nevyn's way, and took out running after her—a good thing, since the books were heavy. Nevyn turned back to Grodyr.
“Tell me somewhat,” Nevyn said. “This business of poisons. Is Lady Merodda mixed up in this?”
“She was, truly,” Grodyr said. “I heard, by the by, that your prince had her hanged. I have to admit that the news didn't ache my heart. Braemys accused me of supplying her with poisons. I did naught of the sort, I assure you.”
“Oh, I believe you. Here, why don't you shelter in the dun tonight? The prince is a generous man and won't begrudge you bread and board whether or not you take hisservice in the morning. I'd like to hear what you know about Lady Merodda.”
After he left the great hall, Maddyn considered going back to the barracks, then decided to climb up to the outer wall and make his way along the catwalk for some privacy. By then the sun was just setting, and a soft twilight was gathering over the dun. To the east a few stars gleamed against the darkening sky. With the firelight and lantern light flickering at the windows, the central broch looked for those few moments almost inviting. At the top of the wall Maddyn squeezed himself into a crenel and looked out over the hillside below. Near the bottom of the hill little fires bloomed in the encampment where the assembled war-bands sheltered behind the outermost wall. For all its size, Dun Deverry could never have quartered the entire army.
Maddyn's blue sprite materialized in midair, bringing a trace of silvery glow with her.
“Well, there you are,” Maddyn said. “I've not seen you in days.”
She smiled with a gleam of needle-sharp teeth.
“You weren't in the great hall just now,” Maddyn went on. “And a cursed good thing, too. I played a song I wish I'd never composed.”
She cocked her head to one side as if she were trying to understand.
“Having a bit of fun with Slimy Oggo is one thing. Tearing the poor bastard's pride to bits was quite another. Ah ye gods! That was the sourest revenge I've ever taken.”
The sprite looked at him for a long solemn moment, then shrugged and disappeared. Maddyn climbed back down from the wall and headed for the barracks. He wanted the company of his own kind.
Lilli heard about Oggyn's shaming from her maid, Clodda, who had watched the entire spectacle from the servant's side of the hall. She had, she told Lilli, climbed up onto a table for a good view.
“It was ever so awful, my lady,” Clodda said, but shewas grinning, and her eyes snapped with something suspiciously like delight. “Poor old Slimy Oggo. That's what the silver daggers call him, you know.”
“Oh really?” Lilli was smiling herself. “And how would you know? You've not been consorting with silver daggers, have you?”
Clodda blushed scarlet and busied herself with straightening the bedclothes. Morning sun poured in the window. Lilli moved her chair round so that she could sit in the warmth.
“It feels so good,” she remarked. “Did you see Lord Nevyn in the great hall?”
“I did, my lady. He told me he'd be up in a bit.”
Nevyn appeared but a few moments after. Clodda made a hurried excuse and fled the chamber; like most of the servants, she believed him to be a sorcerer of the sort found in bards' tales, who can turn men into frogs and talk with the spirits of the dead—though in a way, Nevyn told Lilli, he'd been if not raising a spirit then at least discussing one.
“Grodyr told me many an interesting
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