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clatter?"
" 'Tis your man, Ragnor." Dain didn't need to see the knight to recognize his
voice or his typical homecoming. He returned his attention to the maid. In the
light of day, his stitchery looked good, a fine tracery of thread down the
side of her face. 'Twould be a shame to have it all ground to dust between the
Boar of Balor's jaws, if such a thing were possible. "Tales have been told of
Balor," he said, "of strange happenings and harsh dealings reminiscent of
Gwrnach."
"Caradoc is a hard man," Morgan admitted. "Mayhaps he's grown a little wild,
but he is no worse than any other."
"I heard the castle wall was a gift from the captain of Llywelyn's war band."
Morgan chuckled. "I was there the night Llywelyn'spenteululost his fortune in
Balor's pit, wagering on a boar. Aye, more than one has said Caradoc built his
keep with pig's blood."
The ruckus outside caused the maid to stir, the barest fluttering of her
lashes betraying her rise from the depths of a drugged sleep. Dain dipped his
finger in a cup of weakly opiated wine and wet her lips. He was not ready for
her to awaken, not with Morgan there. When her tongue licked, he lingered,
letting her take the draught from his fingertip, even as he both studied and
fought his desire to do the same.
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"Caradoc won't thank you if you deliver him an opium-eater for a bride, Dain."
The words were spoken softly with a concern that went beyond the woman.
"I am judicious," Dain said, but stopped and passed his hand down over her
eyes, willing her to sleep awhile longer. 'Twas not much as magic went, but
he'd never been one to underestimate the power of a sincere thought,
especially when accompanied by the appropriate simple. He lowered his hand and
found her lashes to have done the same. Sometimes it seemed he had a knack for
such things.
"Will Ragnor hunt again on the morrow?" Morgan asked, returning his attention
to the bailey.
"Aye," he said just as Ceridwen spoke his name on a sigh. Maybe not such a
knack after all, he thought, touching her mouth with a thought for silence.
"What?" Morgan asked.
Ceridwen smiled beneath his caress, and Dain cleared his throat.
"Aye," he said louder, standing up and drawing the bed curtain behind him. He
would see to the maid after Morgan left. " 'Tis boar he's after, and he will
not rest until he slays one."
"What of his lord?"
"D'Arbois hunts tamer game."
Morgan laughed softly, keeping his attention on the man outside. "I have never
thought of you as tame, Lavrans."
"Neither should he. Come." He gestured toward the worktable, where food had
been set out: ale, bread, cheese, stewed fruit, and a sweet cream pudding.
"Let us eat and bargain."
In the end 'twas decided to leave the maid at Wydehaw, in theHartTower . She
was too broken to take a journey over the mountains, too nubile to be given to
D'Arbois's care, and too precious by the ancestry of her blood for Caradoc to
complain overly much about her health taking precedence over his immediate
needs and desires to have her at Balor Keep. The Boar of Balor could have his
bride at
Beltaine.
Morgan laughed at that. "She has escaped me three times in less than a
sennight, and you think you can hold her for a month? Could be your best trick
yet."
" 'Tis not much of a trick when Numa doesn't let the maid out of her sight."
Dain leaned forward and finished off the last bite of pudding with his silver
spoon. "Now, have you got the list?"
"I'm not likely to forget it. Almonds, rice, saffron, spices and grains of
paradise, oranges you'll never get those, not out of a Welshman violet sugar,
for Christ's sake, and a hundred marks. It's more than
Caradoc would have spent on her in a year, two, even three! And I doubt if
he'd know a strand of saffron from a sheep's buttocks!"
Dain arched his eyebrow and fought a smirk as he licked his spoon.
Morgan was scandalized. "If you heard that, you heard a lie."
"I've heard worse."
"Worse!" Morgan exclaimed, as if it were impossible for anything to be worse
than swiving sheep.
"Just give him my greetings, explain to him the importance of rich food to
restore her health, and convince him the money is well spent for a bride of
such great beauty and grace& and virginity." A slow grin spread across Dain's
face.
Morgan scraped his chair back from the table, muttering, "Don't tell me any
more. If I don't know, he can't get it out of me, and then he won't have to
kill you for 'dabbling' where no man should dabble lest he be wed. What of
D'Arbois? What will you tell him?"
"I'll gut a chicken before he sups and divine the importance of the maid."
Still grinning, he stood up to see his guest out. "Can you find your way back
through the siege tunnel?"
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"Aye, and I'll meet you in the copse at the other end at dusk with her
belongings, not that there's much.
The only dowry she brings is her lineage." The Welshman hesitated for a
moment, his gaze catching
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