Anasyn laid a hand on her shoulder. “It's in the hands of Wyrd, and what man knows the ways of that?” He shrugged the moment away. “I'd best go present myself to the prince, but dine with me tonight, will you? You can tell me how things stand here in the dun.”
Thinking of Bellyra, Lilli hesitated, but only briefly. “Of course, gladly. And you can tell me how Hendyr fares.”
Since as a mere tieryn Anasyn was seated some distance from the royal table, Lilli managed to keep a safe distance from the prince and princess both, though just as the meal finished, she did see Degwa making her way through the crowded hall. Lilli smiled and waved, but Degwa hurried right past their table without a word.
“And just who was that fine lady,” Anasyn muttered, “to treat you so coldly?”
“Someone who's been my enemy from the day we rode into Cerrmor,” Lilli said. “She's a daughter of the Wolf clan, and she's never forgiven me for having been born a Boar.”
Anasyn was about to reply when Gwerbret Daeryc strolled over. During the muster Lilli had only seen him from a distance, and now she noticed that he'd lost more teeth over the winter—one side of his face looked positivelycaved in. Anasyn scrambled up and bowed to his overlord, but Daeryc motioned to Lilli to stay seated.
“I only want a word with your brother,” Daeryc said. “About this business of the white mare.”
“They've not found one, have they?” Anasyn said.
“They've not, or so they say.” Daeryc looked profoundly gloomy. “Who can trust what priests say, eh? But without the mare, the temple won't perform the kingship rite before the campaigning begins.”
“Indeed?” Lilli put in. “That's a pity, but is it all that important?”
“Important?” Daeryc snorted. “You could say that twice and loudly, too.”
“If the wretched priests of Bel,” Anasyn said to her, “would condescend to proclaim our liege king before we all rode out, we could count on plenty of deserters from Braemys's army. I'm willing to wager high that a lot of the lords still loyal to the Boars would come over if they had some noble reason to do it. They don't want to besmirch their honor, but if Maryn were the king? Well, then.”
“I'd wager along with you,” Daeryc said. “Braemys just might have found his army disappearing like food on a glutton's table. But now?” He shrugged. “The good men will hold loyal till the end, most like.”
After the meal Lilli went up to Nevyn's tower room, where she discovered that the delay in confirming Maryn's kingship was preying upon her master's mind as well. Nevyn delivered himself of a few choice oaths on the subject before explaining.
“They have their reason all polished and ready, of course. The lack of the proper white mare for the rites. Huh. Let Maryn win the summer's war, and white mares will doubtless pop up all over the landscape.”
“There's somewhat I don't understand,” Lilli said. “Does great Bel really care about the color of Maryn's horse? Would we really be cursed if he rode a grey mare in the procession?”
“Of course not. But the lords and the priests and perhaps even the common folk would believe that he wascursed, and they'd look at him with different eyes. And Maryn himself—he's as pious as any great lord is, which is to say, as pious as the times are hard, but he truly does believe that the gods have power over him. If he thought himself cursed, wouldn't he doubt his judgment and his luck?”
“I see. And he might do a reckless thing, or shrink back from a fight, and his men would think he'd lost his dweomer luck.”
“Exactly. And they've followed him for many a long year now, through famine and battle, mostly because they believe in his luck and the gods both.”
Lilli considered this while the old man watched her from his seat on the windowsill. “But then,” she said finally, “the gods don't truly care what happens to their worshippers. Is that what you
Thinking of Bellyra, Lilli hesitated, but only briefly. “Of course, gladly. And you can tell me how Hendyr fares.”
Since as a mere tieryn Anasyn was seated some distance from the royal table, Lilli managed to keep a safe distance from the prince and princess both, though just as the meal finished, she did see Degwa making her way through the crowded hall. Lilli smiled and waved, but Degwa hurried right past their table without a word.
“And just who was that fine lady,” Anasyn muttered, “to treat you so coldly?”
“Someone who's been my enemy from the day we rode into Cerrmor,” Lilli said. “She's a daughter of the Wolf clan, and she's never forgiven me for having been born a Boar.”
Anasyn was about to reply when Gwerbret Daeryc strolled over. During the muster Lilli had only seen him from a distance, and now she noticed that he'd lost more teeth over the winter—one side of his face looked positivelycaved in. Anasyn scrambled up and bowed to his overlord, but Daeryc motioned to Lilli to stay seated.
“I only want a word with your brother,” Daeryc said. “About this business of the white mare.”
“They've not found one, have they?” Anasyn said.
“They've not, or so they say.” Daeryc looked profoundly gloomy. “Who can trust what priests say, eh? But without the mare, the temple won't perform the kingship rite before the campaigning begins.”
“Indeed?” Lilli put in. “That's a pity, but is it all that important?”
“Important?” Daeryc snorted. “You could say that twice and loudly, too.”
“If the wretched priests of Bel,” Anasyn said to her, “would condescend to proclaim our liege king before we all rode out, we could count on plenty of deserters from Braemys's army. I'm willing to wager high that a lot of the lords still loyal to the Boars would come over if they had some noble reason to do it. They don't want to besmirch their honor, but if Maryn were the king? Well, then.”
“I'd wager along with you,” Daeryc said. “Braemys just might have found his army disappearing like food on a glutton's table. But now?” He shrugged. “The good men will hold loyal till the end, most like.”
After the meal Lilli went up to Nevyn's tower room, where she discovered that the delay in confirming Maryn's kingship was preying upon her master's mind as well. Nevyn delivered himself of a few choice oaths on the subject before explaining.
“They have their reason all polished and ready, of course. The lack of the proper white mare for the rites. Huh. Let Maryn win the summer's war, and white mares will doubtless pop up all over the landscape.”
“There's somewhat I don't understand,” Lilli said. “Does great Bel really care about the color of Maryn's horse? Would we really be cursed if he rode a grey mare in the procession?”
“Of course not. But the lords and the priests and perhaps even the common folk would believe that he wascursed, and they'd look at him with different eyes. And Maryn himself—he's as pious as any great lord is, which is to say, as pious as the times are hard, but he truly does believe that the gods have power over him. If he thought himself cursed, wouldn't he doubt his judgment and his luck?”
“I see. And he might do a reckless thing, or shrink back from a fight, and his men would think he'd lost his dweomer luck.”
“Exactly. And they've followed him for many a long year now, through famine and battle, mostly because they believe in his luck and the gods both.”
Lilli considered this while the old man watched her from his seat on the windowsill. “But then,” she said finally, “the gods don't truly care what happens to their worshippers. Is that what you
Similar Books
