to the women’s hall with a message. Before they’d left Dwaen’s dun, she’d asked Ylaena to write her a note to the gwerbret’s lady, Ganydda, giving Jill a formal introduction. The lad returned quickly enough and escorted her up to the reception chamber, littered with a profusion of heavy furniture and silver oddments. At each long window hung a curtain of Bardek brocade in the gwerbretal colours of green, silver, and yellow. Ganydda, a slender woman with greying hair, startled-looking blue eyes, and prominent teeth, greeted her kindly and had a serving lass bring a cushion so that Jill could sit near her feet.
‘The lady Ylaena speaks highly of you, Jill.’
‘My thanks, my lady, though doubtless she flatters me unduly.’
‘How well spoken you are! You must forgive an old woman’s curiosity, but whatever possessed a pretty lass like you to ride off with a silver dagger? He’s awfully handsome, of course, but honestly, my dear! It must have been quite a scandal.’
‘Not truly a scandal, my lady, because you see, my father was a silver dagger, too. I had no position or anything to lose.’
‘Really? How fascinating! You must tell me all about it.’
Although Jill normally parried such questions, that night she chattered about true love in general and Rhodry in particular until she could see she’d won the lady’s confidence – although she avoided telling her why Rhodry was riding the long road. At that point she worked the conversation round to Tieryn Dwaen’s current troubles.
‘My heart absolutely goes out to Slaecca, losing her husband to that drunken little – well, in a drunken little brawl,’ Ganydda said. ‘And now to have her son threatened is really too much to bear. I pray that things won’t come to open war.’
‘It must be sad for Lord Beryn’s wife, too, the poor lady, seeing her husband put himself in danger after losing her only son.’
‘Well, perhaps it would distress her.’ Ice formed in Ganydda’s voice. ‘One must always think the best thoughts one can about people, mustn’t one? But then there’s no doubt that Mallona’s had a hard enough life. My dear Jill, wait until you see Beryn puffing and snorting at my husband’s court, and he’s a good bit older than her, you know.’
‘Truly? Lady Slaecca never mentioned that.’
‘She’s so charitable, isn’t she? But he is, and I’ve often wondered why she only had that one pregnancy, if you take my meaning.’
Jill smiled and arched one eyebrow.
‘Oh dear, what if worst comes to worst?’ Ganydda went on with a certain relish. ‘I wonder what poor dear Mallona will do. I can’t see her fitting into the temple life, I just simply can’t.’
‘Doesn’t she have a brother to go back to, my lady? The lady Ylaena mentioned one.’
‘Um, well, a brother of a sort. Let me see, what did happen to him? He was the youngest son of a poor clan, you see, and so he ended up living just like a commoner, and his mother was so upset. He received a small inheritance from an uncle, and he became a merchant – can you imagine it – some said he was actually running a brothel down in Cerrmor, but I never believed it for a minute – people will say the nastiest things sometimes.’
‘But what about all her other brothers, then?’
‘Well, you see, when this Graelyn – I believe that was his name – betrayed the honour of his blood, Mallona was the only one who spoke on his side, and she and her kin no longer speak, for all that it’s been ten years now. I think her father arranged the match with Beryn as revenge of a sort, although I shouldn’t say that. I mean, he might have thought it a perfectly good match. After all, you can’t tell one old man that another doesn’t have much life left, if you take my meaning.’
When Jill managed to make her escape from the lady’s side, she headed upstairs to Tieryn Dwaen’s chamber. On her way she met a serving lass, carrying a tray with a silver flagon and goblets upon it.
‘Here, silver dagger,’ she called out. ‘You’re with the tieryn’s party, aren’t you?’
‘I am. Shall I save you a few steps and carry that up?’
‘Would you? Some fellow from his grace’s retinue handed it to me and said to deliver it, but with all these guests I’ve got so much work to do.’
‘Of course you do. Rude of him.’
Dwaen, Cadlew, and Rhodry were all sitting in the reception chamber of the suite, the two lords in chairs, Rhodry on the floor by the door. When she brought the mead in, Cadlew rose with a small bow and took the tray from her.
‘Splendid idea, Jill. We found a water jug in one bedchamber, but that won’t do a man any good.’
‘Well, my lord, I’m afraid you don’t dare drink this mead. I’ve got the feeling it’s been poisoned.’
Her feeling was confirmed when Rhodry dipped the corner of a rag in the mead, tasted a scant drop of it, and immediately washed his mouth out with the aforementioned water.
‘Crude,’ he remarked. ‘Cursed crude. No one in their right mind would have drunk more than one sip of this.’
‘Ah by the great hairy balls of the Lord of Hell!’ Dwaen was decidedly pale. ‘Why would someone go to all this trouble to poison the stuff, then?’
‘Why did they put that rat in your bed, Your Grace? To make you squirm, to drag it out and make you wonder when they’ll finally kill you.’ Rhodry glanced at Jill. ‘Think I should go berate the chamberlain?’
‘It won’t do any good, and spreading the news around might do harm. You could go down to the great hall and find out how easy it is for someone to get into the broch.’
Rhodry did just that, but he came back with the discouraging news that it was remarkably easy, even at night, for any well-dressed man who was generous with his small coins. Merchants and travellers did it all the time, mostly to gawk at the dun and maybe to get a glimpse of the gwerbret or his wife. At times, even, after a particularly lavish feast, the gwerbret summoned the town poor into the ward to be given the leftovers. Jill and Rhodry both agreed that the only way they were going to keep strangers away from the tieryn was to raise a general alarm and have the gwerbret put the dun on full alert, a plan that Dwaen outright forbade, much to Cadlew’s annoyance and Jill’s relief. Rousing the dun would give her whole game away.
Since it would be several days before Lord Beryn would arrive at court to answer the formal charges, Rhodry resigned himself to keeping a close watch over the tieryn and hoping for the best. As the tedious time crawled by, he grew annoyed with Jill for leaving the whole job to him. It seemed that the only time he ever saw her was at meals; she was always off talking to the servants, gossiping with the women in the dun, or wandering around town where, for all he knew, she might well be in danger. By the end of the third day he was ready to shake her. They finally got a few minutes alone after dinner.
‘Just where were you this afternoon?’ Rhodry snapped.
‘Talking with the head of the merchant guild. It took me all day to bribe my way in to see him.’
‘What did you want to do that for?’
‘And then I went to the
