A Time of Justice. Katharine Kerr
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and put on their mail, but she somehow knew that there was no time. Suddenly they heard a woman scream, and then a shout and the clash of metal on metal. With a howl of unearthly laughter, Rhodry drew his sword and kicked his horse to a gallop. Sword in hand, Jill raced after him.
As they charged up to the clearing by the river, Jill saw a welter of horses and ill-armoured men: two attacking the Stag rider, who was already bleeding as he swung his sword and yelled; two more grabbing the reins of the ladies’ horses, and one last beating the helpless page about the head. Rhodry charged straight into the mêlée and killed a man from behind, then swung on another. Jill galloped past and cut at the man struggling with the reins of Ylaena’s terrified palfrey. When she sliced him across the back, he screamed and dropped the reins.
‘Ride!’ Jill shouted at the lady.
When Jill shifted her weight in the saddle her battle-trained horse swung round to the rescue of the serving woman, whose screams echoed above Rhodry’s berserker’s laugh. Jill ducked her enemy’s clumsy blow and slashed him across the throat.
‘My apologies,’ Jill said. ‘You poor bastard.’
For the briefest of moments he stayed upright, staring at her in disbelief, then fell dead over his horse’s neck. Jill’s stomach churned; for all that she was good with the blade she carried, she hated killing. She had no need of sending another man to the Otherlands that day, however, because the rest of the bandits were already racing down the road to the north.
‘Let them go!’ Rhodry called out. ‘We can’t leave the women.’
When Jill turned back, she found him dismounted and pulling the Stag rider down from his saddle. Although the serving woman clung to her saddle peak and sobbed, Ylaena dismounted and ran to the page.
‘Get down, Larro. Let me see what that man did to you.’
Shaking too hard even to weep, the lad swung down and threw himself into her arms. Jill dismounted and joined Rhodry, kneeling beside the Stag rider. His face slashed with bloody cuts, he tried to speak, then died in Rhodry’s arms.
‘Ah horseshit.’ Rhodry laid him down gently. ‘I didn’t think they had brigands in this part of the kingdom.’
‘Not brigands,’ Ylaena said from behind them. ‘My brother would never allow such a thing, not if he had to call in every alliance he had to chase them from his lands.’
They rose, Rhodry hastily wiping his blood-stained hands on his brigga.
‘I owe you my life, silver daggers. Will you escort us back to my dun? I’ll see that you’re well-paid for it.’
‘My lady will have our protection for the honour of the thing.’ Rhodry made her a bow. ‘But we’d best hurry. Those cowards might realize that there’s only two of us and come back.’
Between them Jill and Rhodry got the dead men tied over their saddles. When they rode out, the lady, her serving woman, and the page each led one of the extra horses to leave Jill and Rhodry free in case of attack, her at the head of the line, him in the dangerous rear-guard. As they trotted down the road, Jill turned constantly in her saddle and peered into the trees, but apparently the attackers were the cowards Rhodry had called them, because their terrified procession came free of the forest without any more trouble. Out on the open road among the settled farms they were safe. With a sharp sigh of relief Jill sheathed her sword, then fell back to ride beside Ylaena.
‘I’ll take the reins of that horse, my lady. You shouldn’t have to lead it like a caravan guard.’
‘My thanks.’ Ylaena handed them over. ‘You know, I think it’s the strangest thing of all that another lass would save my life, but you have my heart-felt thanks.’
Tieryn Dwaen stood by the hearth in his great hall and shook with rage. Rhodry had never seen a man as furious as this slender, dark-haired young lord, whose right hand clenched and unclenched on his sword hilt for the entire time that it took for Ylaena to tell the tale, sitting in her brother’s chair with Lord Cadlew behind her. When she was done, the tieryn turned to the silver daggers.
‘And how can I ever repay you for this? I never dreamt they’d dare harm my womenfolk, the bastards!’
‘They, Your Grace?’ Rhodry said. ‘Who?’
‘Someone’s been trying to murder me. It’s just that I never would have thought in a thousand years that Beryn would take his vengeance out on my sister.’
Ylaena covered her face with both hands and wept, while Cadlew patted her shoulder.
‘Dwaen,’ he growled. ‘I want blood for this.’
‘So do I. Lots of it.’
‘They weren’t going to kill me.’ Ylaena struggled with her voice to steady it. ‘I heard them yelling. Don’t harm the ladies, they said. They were just going to take us somewhere.’
‘And what would they have done then?’ Cadlew snarled. ‘When you ride to war, Dwaen, me and my warband will ride with you.’
‘If it comes to war. I intend to let the gwerbret settle this by law if ever I can.’
Cadlew muttered some inaudible frustration.
In the great hall every man in the warband and every servant in the dun stood round, straining to hear. Dwaen yelled at them all to get out, then asked Cadlew to escort Ylaena up to the women’s hall. He himself took Jill and Rhodry to the table of honour and insisted on pouring them mead with his own hands.
‘My lord?’ Rhodry said. ‘I was just up in Ebonlyn, and someone tried to hire me to murder a noble-born man. I’m beginning to wonder if the man was you.’
‘Mayhap it was. Let me tell you my tale.’
While Dwaen told him of the previous attempt on his life and Beryn’s probable motive, Rhodry grew more and more baffled.
‘By the pink asses of the gods, Your Grace, why doesn’t he just challenge you to an honour duel? You could have the matter settled before the gwerbret even heard of it.’
‘I’ve spent many an hour wondering the same thing. Rats in my bed? It sounds like old tales of witchcraft and suchlike. I can’t believe Lord Beryn would stoop so low.’
Lallyc, the captain of the tieryn’s warband, trotted over and knelt at his lord’s side.
‘Your Grace? None of the men recognize those two dead ‘uns, and here we spent plenty of time with Beryn’s men before the murder.’
‘Well, I never thought Beryn would send men from his own warband.’ Dwaen gave him a black-humoured grin. ‘He might as well hire a herald to proclaim his intent as do that. But I can’t think of another man in the world who’d want me dead. Unless, captain, I’m just being vain?’
‘Not in the least, my lord,’ Lallyc said with a firm nod. ‘I’ve never known you to harm anyone. Why, you wouldn’t even cheat in a horse race. Besides, if anyone else felt injured, they’d know they could come sit by our gates and starve in safety. I can’t see you breaking the holy laws by driving them away.’
‘True enough. Well, looks like I’ve got a hire for you, silver daggers.’
When Cadlew returned, the two lords worked out what struck Rhodry as a sensible plan. If Dwaen rode to the gwerbret in Ebonlyn, he would be vulnerable out on the road, because his rank only allowed him to bring an honour guard of fifteen men into the gwerbret’s presence, fewer than Beryn kept in his warband. If Cadlew accompanied him, however, the young lord could bring ten men of his own, and since it seemed clear that Beryn had no intention of murdering Cadlew if he could help it, having him along would doubtless be the best protection Dwaen could have. They could also bring the two silver daggers in addition to the honour guard, because Jill and Rhodry qualified as witnesses.
‘I’ll take Laryn, too,’ Dwaen said. ‘But I don’t want to risk bringing Ylaena in to give evidence.’