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Beside her Nevyn swore under his breath.
‘Oh ye gods,’ Lovyan said feebly. ‘He would turn up right now! Well, lad, run and tell him that indeed he’s welcome in the dun called Bruddlyn. Tell him that exactly and not a word more.’
As soon as the page was on his way, Nevyn turned to her with the lift of a quizzical eyebrow.
‘It all goes back to Loddlaen’s war,’ she said, her voice heavy with weariness. ‘Talidd’s sister was Corbyn’s wife. She went back to her brother before the war even started, because having Loddlaen in the dun was driving her daft, and I can’t say I blame her for that, frankly. But then, after Corbyn was killed, I attainted this demesne because she’d left her husband. All my loyal men would have grumbled if I hadn’t. I offered her a settlement of coin and horses, but Talidd refused to let her take a copper or a filly of it.’
She broke off because the subject of this explanation was striding into the great hall, stripping off his cloak and riding gloves as he did so. Talidd of Belglaedd was a heavy-set man of forty, with grey hair still streaked with blond, and shrewd green eyes. Tossing his cloak to the page, he came over and made the tieryn a deep bow. His bland smile revealed nothing at all.
‘I’m surprised to see you here, my lord,’ Lovyan said.
‘I came to congratulate Garedd on the birth of a child. The page tells me it’s a lad.’
‘It is, and a healthy one.’
‘Then Dun Bruddlyn has yet another heir, does it?’ Talidd paused to take a tankard of ale from a serving lass. ‘Well, the gods may witness the justice of that.’
Lovyan debated challenging him then and there. If she’d been a man, and thus able to fight her own duels, she might well have done it, but as it was, she would have to call for a champion. Answering that call would be the captain of her warband, Cullyn of Cerrmor, who was without doubt the best swordsman in all Deverry. It seemed rather unfair to sentence Talidd to certain death for a few nasty remarks.
‘I choose to ignore that, my lord,’ Lovyan said, and she put ice in her voice. ‘If you feel injured, you may put your case before the gwerbret, and I shall come to court at his order.’
‘The gwerbret, Your Grace, happens to be your son.’
‘So he is, and I scrupulously raised him to be a fair-minded man.’
At that Talidd looked down abruptly at the table, and he had the decency to blush. In the duel of words, Lovyan had scored the first touch.
‘I’m surprised you’ve come here just to pour vinegar in an old wound,’ she said.
‘The matter’s of great moment for the gwerbretrhyn, isn’t it? You forget, Your Grace, that I hold a seat on the Council of Electors.’
Lovyan had forgotten, and she cursed herself mentally for the lapse. Talidd had a sip of ale and smiled his bland, secretive smile at her and Nevyn impartially.
‘I was hoping I’d be in time to witness the birth,’ he said at last. ‘I take it there were witnesses not of this household.’
‘Myself and the herbman here.’
‘And none, my lady, would dare dispute your word, not in open court nor in private meeting.’ The smile grew less bland. ‘We may take it as a given that, indeed, the Lady Donilla’s not barren, no matter what seemed to be the case before.’
Lovyan gave him a brilliant smile and hated his very heart.
‘Just so, my lord. I take it as another given that you’ll be summoning the council with this news as soon as ever you can.’
Talidd left well before the evening meal with the remark that he had a better welcome nearby. He sounded so martyred, and so genuinely injured, that Nevyn felt like kicking him all the way out of the great hall. For Lovyan’s sake, he refrained. Instead he went up to look in on Donilla, who was by then resting in her own bed with the swaddled babe beside her. In some minutes Lovyan joined him there, her expression as placid as if she’d never heard Talidd’s name, and made a few pleasantries to the younger woman. Nevyn left when she did, following her to the chamber in the suite that had been allotted to her on this visit. Although plain, it was obviously furnished with Dun Bruddlyn’s best; her cousin and his lady both had reason to be grateful for her gift of this demesne, as she remarked.
‘Although it’s turning out to be a troubled gift, sure enough,’ Nevyn said. ‘I didn’t realize Talidd felt so strongly.’
‘Him and half the lords in the tierynrhyn. I knew there’d be trouble when I gave it to Garedd, but there’d have been trouble no matter what I did. Well, I suppose if I’d apportioned it to you, no one would have grumbled, but you didn’t want it, and so here we are.’
‘Come now, Lovva! You almost make me feel guilty.’
‘I like that “almost”. But truly, whenever an overlord has land to give, there’s bound to be injured feelings. I only wish that Talidd didn’t have a seat on the council. Ah ye gods, what a nasty thing this is becoming! Even if Rhys’s wife did have a babe now, no one would believe it was his.’
‘Just so. I –’
With a bang of the door and a gleeful howl of laughter, a child of about two came charging into the chamber with a nursemaid in pursuit. She was slender for her age, with a mop of curly, raven-dark hair and violet eyes, almost as dark a purple as an elf’s – all in all, a breathtakingly beautiful child. With a gurgle, she threw herself into Lovyan’s exalted lap.
‘Granna, Granna, love you, Granna.’
‘And I love you, too, Rhodd-let, but you’re being naughty and interrupting.’
Rhodda twisted in her lap and looked solemnly at Nevyn. The family resemblance was profound.
‘I’d almost forgotten about Rhodry’s daughter. She certainly hasn’t inherited her looks from her mother’s side, has she?’
‘None, but Maelwaedd blood tends to be strong, and Olwen, poor lass, was one of those blonde and bland sorts. Rhodry’s bastard might have a very important role to play in what lies ahead, so I keep her with me at all times – to supervise her upbringing, of course.’ For all her talk of political purposes, she kissed the top of the child’s head with a genuine fondness, then motioned to the nursemaid. ‘Now let Mistress Tevylla take you away and give you some bread and milk. It’s almost time for bed.’
Although Rhodda whined, begged, and finally howled, Lovyan held firm and scooped her up bodily to give her to her nurse, who was hovering by the chamber door. Nevyn hadn’t truly noticed her before, but he saw now that she was a striking woman of about thirty, with dark hair, dark eyes and almost severely regular features. Once she and her small charge were gone, Nevyn asked about her.
‘Tevva?’ Lovyan said. ‘A charming woman, and with a will of steel, which she needs around Rhodda, I assure you. She’s a widow, actually, with a son of her own, who’s – oh ye gods, I don’t remember his age, but old enough for Cullyn to be training him for the warband. Her man was a blacksmith down in my town, but he died suddenly of a fever two winters ago. Since she had no kin, the priests recommended her to my charity, and I needed a woman for Rhodda. That child is a worse handful than even her father was.’ She sighed, and since they were alone, she could be honest. ‘I suppose it’s the elven blood in their veins.’
‘I’d say so, for all that Rhodda doesn’t have much of it.’
‘A full quarter, let us not forget. Don’t fall for your own lies about a trace of elven blood in the Maelwaedds.’
‘Well, it’s not a lie, because there is one, but of course, it doesn’t apply here. I take it you plan to make the child a good marriage some day?’
‘An influential marriage, certainly, and I plan to teach her now to make any marriage suit her own purposes. If she can learn to