Gweneth. All knew but the queen— but now she has found out and the wench has disappeared. The king is sullen about it, and very full of beer— else he would not have brought it into the open— and he claims that Alwyth has done away with the girl. Or had it done, since the queen is not likely to soil her own hands with the murder of a servant.'
Blade failed, for an instant, to guard his expression. And learned that the man Sylvo was indeed shrewd.
'You have an odd look to you, master. Could you know aught of this?'
Blade managed innocence. 'I know of it? How? I am a stranger, as you well know. I have no friends in Sarum Vil, unless it be the Princess Taleen, for whom I did some small service. And she,' he added gloomily, 'has forgotten me.'
For a moment the rude hut vanished and Blade was back in the glade of sacred oaks. That silver hair, the slim body, the lovely and demonic face as the golden sword slashed down. Who was she? Where had she gone? He did not know it at the time, but it was the beginning of a long haunting.
And it explained, or so he would have sworn, how the servant girl had come into the hands of the Drus.
At the mention of Taleen the guard's hideous face brightened. 'Ar,' he admitted, 'there is a woman for you! Only a girl, I know, and no doubt virgin as the high born keep their daughters, but a woman none the less. The man who first cleaves that cunna will be a fortunate knave indeed. Ar, that he will.'
Blade frowned at him, pretending anger. 'I think you speak above yourself.'
Sylvo laughed, not a bit abashed. 'Ar, master, perhaps I do. But who is to know? You? Come now, master. You are a beggar with one pair of ragged breeches. I do not fear you. Though I admit that you are probably high born and could strangle me like a newborn babe, yet it serves you nothing. For a time I am master here and you are prisoner. Is that not the truth of it?'
Blade grinned and admitted that it was. And made a vow to teach Sylvo manners, if ever the opportunity arose.
'What of the Princess Taleen. Have you seen her?'
Sylvo was seeking for another louse in his armpit. 'Only when the two of you first entered town. Since then she has kept to herself in the king's great house. You seem to have a great interest in the princess, master.'
Blade watched the play of speculation across the ruined face. Bawdiness was second nature to the man. Then Sylvo shook his head so hard that his helmet nearly tumbled off.
'No! It is not possible. The princess is of the high blood and you— '
There was a light tapping at the door. Sylvo, who had been squatting on his heels, leaped up and half faced the door, yet keeping the spear vigilant on Blade. The man grinned. 'Ar, that will be my relief. About time, by Thunor! I shall have my share of the beer and women after all.'
'Best answer it then,' said Blade dryly, 'and stop your cackling.' As he spoke he glanced up at the roof hole. The stars had vanished and a coil of mist hung just over the aperture. The night had turned thick and gloomy.
Sylvo was whispering at the door. Frowning and squinting and mumbling. It was not his relief, then. Blade heard a woman's whisper and the rustle of feminine garments. He took a deep breath of relief. She had not forgotten him after all.
He was puzzled by what followed. Sylvo extended a hand through the narrowly cracked door, took something, then closed the door and turned to face Blade again. 'By Thunor's liver,' he said, 'this matter grows in mystery.' He tossed a coin in the air and caught it, then bit it with his snaggle teeth. 'And I have come by a whole mancus.
Pure bronze. I, Sylvo, who have never seen aught but iron scills in my life. A mancus! With three of them I could buy a farm and cattle. A mancus! Me. Poor Sylvo.'
Blade could not restrain his impatience. 'That was the Princess Taleen, then? She gave you a note? A message for me?'
Sylvo bit the coin again, then slipped it into a purse on his belt, from which also hung a naked dirk. He squinted at Blade.
'Wrong, master. Ar, very wrong. Therein lies the danger— which I have agreed to risk for a mancus. And great danger it is, by Thunor! Danger for both of us. So listen well, master, and make me a promise that you will never speak of this.'
Blade lost his temper. He roared like a bull. 'Stop your mumbling, you ugly lout, and speak clearly! Who was it, if not the Princess Taleen? And what is all this prattle of danger?'
Sylvo squinted and caressed a few scraggy hairs on his chin. 'It is the Lady Alwyth, master. The queen. She would speak with you. She is waiting now until I have your promise of silence. I must have it. Ar, I am no fool. When two great stones play together it is always the kernel in the midst that is crushed.'
'Have done with your cursed riddles,' Blade shouted. 'It is all the same, then. This lady brings me a message from the princess, that must be it. Admit her at once.'
Sylvo was not to be hurried. His face was contorted in thought. 'Not so fast, master. It is my head and I must think of it— else who will? You are strange here, I am not. I know stories of the Lady Alwyth that you do not. It is a dour, murk night and she comes alone and without escort and seeks to buy silence. Such nights have a way of breeding dark deeds. And still— a whole mancus to me!'
Blade controlled himself. He shrugged his big shoulders in feigned indifference. 'Suit yourself. It is none of my affair and, as you say, it is your head. But I will give my oath not to speak of this and'— slyly— 'you will have to give back the mancus if you do not admit the lady.'
Blade turned his back, crossed his arms and gazed up through the roof at the roiling mist.
He heard Sylvo mutter. 'Return the money? Not by the hairs on Thunor's head. I have your promise, master?'
'You have it.'
Sylvo muttered again. 'Then I will give you half the time it takes a water clock to empty. No more. I will be just outside, master, with my spear and dirk, so attempt no escape. If you do I will kill you and then try to lie my way out of it— it would not be the first time. You swear this on Thunor's heart?'
