you wretched imbecile of a silver dagger! My wife.’ He began to pace round and round in a tight circle. ‘Is the babe healthy?’
‘He is, my lord. His name’s Bellgyn.’
Round and round, and always he stared at the dirt beneath his feet. Jill made him an unnoticed bow and slipped away.
On the morrow, as soon as the dun came awake, the gwerbret summoned the two lords and their retinues to the table of honour in the great hall. Coryc rose, carefully impassive, and gave Beryn a nod of greeting.
‘I have a formal announcement to make, my lord,’ Coryc said quietly. ‘I intend to ride to your dun to question your lady on this matter of justice. If his lordship wishes to ride to her defence, then he has my guarantee of safe conduct out of my city and on my roads.’
Beryn snorted profoundly.
‘When you ride, Your Grace, I want to join your hunt for this piss-poor bastard merchant.’ Beryn jerked his thumb in Rhodry’s direction. ‘This silver dagger tells me that he’s sure Bavydd was in town last night. I’ll bet he’s fleeing south right now. A boon, Your Grace. If we catch him, let me have him.’
Coryc hesitated, looking Dwaen’s way as if the tieryn were his own conscience, there to testify about Bel’s laws.
‘It’s not for me to say what his grace may or may not do,’ Dwaen said. ‘My father’s death was more than I could bear in silence, but this time I’ll no longer push my rights before the law. Whatever you want done with the merchant, Your Grace, do.’
‘Then your boon is granted, Lord Beryn,’ Coryc said. ‘And we’d best get ready to ride.’
All that day the warbands pushed their horses hard and arrived at Dun Ebonlyn in early afternoon, where they stopped to eat and to tell Lady Ylaena the news. As the men were filing in, Jill saw Lord Beryn turn his men out of line and stop beside the gates. When she pointed him out to Dwaen, the tieryn rode over and made Beryn a small bow from the saddle.
‘His lordship is welcome in my dun,’ Dwaen said. ‘If he can bring himself to enter it.’
Slouched in his saddle, Beryn considered the offer. In the strong afternoon light, he looked exhausted, his eyes blood-shot, his cheeks slashed with deep wrinkles from a life out in the sun and wind. Finally Beryn sighed.
‘His grace is most generous,’ Beryn said. ‘My men and me can eat out in your ward. I’ve no desire to distress your lady mother and sister with my presence at your table.’
‘As his lordship desires, but I’ll have food from my stores brought out to you.’
‘My thanks. That much I’ll accept from you.’
The two men looked at each for a moment, neither smiling nor scowling.
‘I have a small matter to lay before you,’ Beryn went on. ‘Your silver dagger here tells me that kin of mine is sheltering in your dun.’
‘Vyna’s baby, Your Grace,’ Jill put in. ‘Madryc sired the lad.’
Dwaen caught his breath in a little whistle of surprise.
‘I’ll want to claim the lad,’ Beryn said. ‘Formally and legally, once we settle this other matter. He’s the only blasted kin I’ve got left.’
‘Never would I stand in your way, my lord, provided the lass agrees.’
Beryn scowled, started to speak, then merely shrugged and rode on inside.
Beryn’s men found a place to sit in the curve of the inner wall. Servants hurried out, bringing bread and cold meat for the men and the best oats for their horses. Beryn sat down on the cobbles in the midst of his warband and bellowed for ale. Jill hurried to the kitchen hut, where she found Vyna piling bread into a basket. On her back the baby slept in a cloth sling.
‘Cook?’ Jill called out. ‘Lord Beryn’s men need ale.’
‘Men always need ale,’ the cook said. ‘Pages! Where are you, lads? Run and get a small barrel.’
In the resulting confusion Jill could draw Vyna to one side.
‘I’ve got some important news. Lord Beryn knows about your baby. He wants to claim him and raise him as his heir.’
Vyna froze.
‘Can you bring yourself to give him up?’ Jill went on. ‘You know that Dwaen would never let the lord take him against your will.’
Vyna laid the basket down and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
‘He’d have everything in life this way,’ Jill said. ‘Even a title, and you’d have a chance to find a man of your own.’
Vyna turned and walked blindly out of the kitchen hut, the baby swaying and bobbing on her back. Jill ran after her, catching up to her near the well just as Lord Beryn himself came hurrying over with a chunk of bread in his hand. Her head high, Vyna refused to curtsey; she stood her ground and let the lord look her over.
‘I do remember you, truly,’ Beryn said. ‘And that’s the baby, is he?’
‘He is, my lord,’ Vyna said. ‘My child.’
Beryn had a thoughtful bite of bread and went on considering her. He towered over her, a strong man still, grey hair or not, his narrow eyes utterly cold and not a trace of a smile on his face, but Vyna stared back at him with her mouth set like a warrior’s.
‘You’ll swear the child’s my son’s?’ Beryn said.
‘He’s mine first, my lord, but your son had somewhat to do with getting him.’
‘A strong-minded lass, aren’t you?’
‘I’ve had to be, my lord.’
Beryn finished most of his bread, then threw the crust away.
‘Well, you’ll be better off in a dun than you’ve been in the kitchen,’ he said. ‘After we’ve attended to this other matter I’ll ride here and fetch you and the lad.’
‘Me, my lord?’
‘Well, think, woman! What am I going to do with a babe in arms? I’d only have to find him a nurse anyway. Might as well be you.’
Lord Beryn turned on his heel and walked back to his men. Vyna covered her face with her hands and sobbed aloud.
‘Hush, hush,’ Jill said, patting her shoulder. ‘There, see? No one’s even going to take him away from you. But I don’t envy you, shut up in that dun with his lordship there.’
‘I’d put up with the Lord of Hell if I had to for my baby. He’s better than that, I suppose.’ With one last sob, she wiped her face on her sleeve. ‘I’m more afraid of what everyone’s going to say about me than I am of him.’
‘I doubt me if you’ve got much to worry about. Lord Beryn would take it as an insult if anyone mocked the mother of his heir, and I’ll wager no one insults his lordship lightly.’
