Dyfrig screamed. “Run!”
Before her shocked mind could react, Lukort rapped out a command to the younger man, who darted to the boy, wrenched him away from Rusgann, and clapped a big hand over his mouth.
The maid sprang to her feet shrieking, “You stinking whoreson, let him loose!” The youth fetched her a casual blow in the stomach with his fist and she fell moaning to the stony sand.
His mouth temporarily freed, Dyfrig again cried, “Run away, Mama!”
“Don’t move!” roared Lukort. A split second later his tone was wheedling and conciliatory. “Be easy now, princess. My son Vorgo and I
won’t hurt the wee smolt and we won’t hurt you… So he’s your boy, is he? Well well! Yon wench said he was hers! A liar as well as a foul-mouthed hellcat, ain’t she?”
Vorgo smirked, keeping a firm hold on Dyfrig as he wriggled. Rusgann struggled to her feet and stood a few feet away from the pair. Her face was unreadable.
“I know you, Lukort Waterfall,” Maudrayne said in a stern voice. “How dare you mistreat my child and my servant?”
“The twitch needs to be taught good manners. Got a nasty mouth on her. As to the lad, no one’s mistreatin‘ him. We just don’t want him runnin’ off afore you and me have a chance to talk business.”
“Business?” Her mind was a turmoil of conflicting emotions. “What kind of business?”
“The world thinks you be dead, princess. Your brother Liscanor was in a black rage when the news come to Northkeep. He tried to talk the other sealords into makin‘ war on Conrig Ironcrown to avenge the insult to you and your family. Nothin’ came o‘ that. Tarn had too many other troubles, and now we’re part of the Sovereignty whether we like it or not.” He shrugged.
“But here you be, alive—thanks to the God of Heights and Depths!—and with a fine young son to boot. Imagine that! How old would the little fella be? About four, eh?”
She said nothing, feeling the hairs at the back of her neck creep with apprehension. The crafty devil had guessed who Dyfrig’s father must be.
Lukort murmured something to Vorgo, who hoisted the child to his shoulder and strode to where the coracle lay. He cut off a piece of line to bind Dyfrig’s wrists, put him into the skin boat, and cast off, heading for the lugger anchored behind the small island.
Page 25
The skipper beckoned to Maudrayne. “Come closer. No need to keep shoutin‘ one at t’other.
Don’t worry about your lad. I told my son to take special good care o’ him.”
She came slowly towards Lukort, stopping well out of easy reach. It would not do to underestimate the cleverness of this villain. She spoke to the maid. “Are you badly hurt, Rusgann?”
“Nay, my lady. The young lout only punched the breath out of me. The lad and I came on the two men here when we rounded the point.
Dyfi was all happy and excited, but I warned him he must say nothing at all until we knew they intended no evil. This Lukort was polite enough at first, asked if I knew the Lady Maudrayne Northkeep who lived nearby with the sea-hag. Said he was one of Lord Liscanor’s subjects, come to see if you were being kept here against your will.”
Maudrayne turned her gaze to the fisherman. “Two tennights ago, you saw me at Dobnelu’s steading through your spyglass.”
He nodded, all joviality. “And wasn’t it a great shock, seeing a queenly redheaded beauty carrying a milk-pail from the old hag’s byre!
Us seamen give Dobnelu’s fjord a wide berth accounta her curses. But nothin’s to stop us peepin‘ at the place as we sail on by. I studied through the glass and nigh jumped out o’ my skin when I realized ‘twas you: Ironcrown’s wife that was supposed to be drownded in Cathra, alive and well and back home in Tarn. I pondered it for days, wonderin’ what to do.”
“Wondering how he could turn his discovery to profit!” Rusgann
Before her shocked mind could react, Lukort rapped out a command to the younger man, who darted to the boy, wrenched him away from Rusgann, and clapped a big hand over his mouth.
The maid sprang to her feet shrieking, “You stinking whoreson, let him loose!” The youth fetched her a casual blow in the stomach with his fist and she fell moaning to the stony sand.
His mouth temporarily freed, Dyfrig again cried, “Run away, Mama!”
“Don’t move!” roared Lukort. A split second later his tone was wheedling and conciliatory. “Be easy now, princess. My son Vorgo and I
won’t hurt the wee smolt and we won’t hurt you… So he’s your boy, is he? Well well! Yon wench said he was hers! A liar as well as a foul-mouthed hellcat, ain’t she?”
Vorgo smirked, keeping a firm hold on Dyfrig as he wriggled. Rusgann struggled to her feet and stood a few feet away from the pair. Her face was unreadable.
“I know you, Lukort Waterfall,” Maudrayne said in a stern voice. “How dare you mistreat my child and my servant?”
“The twitch needs to be taught good manners. Got a nasty mouth on her. As to the lad, no one’s mistreatin‘ him. We just don’t want him runnin’ off afore you and me have a chance to talk business.”
“Business?” Her mind was a turmoil of conflicting emotions. “What kind of business?”
“The world thinks you be dead, princess. Your brother Liscanor was in a black rage when the news come to Northkeep. He tried to talk the other sealords into makin‘ war on Conrig Ironcrown to avenge the insult to you and your family. Nothin’ came o‘ that. Tarn had too many other troubles, and now we’re part of the Sovereignty whether we like it or not.” He shrugged.
“But here you be, alive—thanks to the God of Heights and Depths!—and with a fine young son to boot. Imagine that! How old would the little fella be? About four, eh?”
She said nothing, feeling the hairs at the back of her neck creep with apprehension. The crafty devil had guessed who Dyfrig’s father must be.
Lukort murmured something to Vorgo, who hoisted the child to his shoulder and strode to where the coracle lay. He cut off a piece of line to bind Dyfrig’s wrists, put him into the skin boat, and cast off, heading for the lugger anchored behind the small island.
Page 25
The skipper beckoned to Maudrayne. “Come closer. No need to keep shoutin‘ one at t’other.
Don’t worry about your lad. I told my son to take special good care o’ him.”
She came slowly towards Lukort, stopping well out of easy reach. It would not do to underestimate the cleverness of this villain. She spoke to the maid. “Are you badly hurt, Rusgann?”
“Nay, my lady. The young lout only punched the breath out of me. The lad and I came on the two men here when we rounded the point.
Dyfi was all happy and excited, but I warned him he must say nothing at all until we knew they intended no evil. This Lukort was polite enough at first, asked if I knew the Lady Maudrayne Northkeep who lived nearby with the sea-hag. Said he was one of Lord Liscanor’s subjects, come to see if you were being kept here against your will.”
Maudrayne turned her gaze to the fisherman. “Two tennights ago, you saw me at Dobnelu’s steading through your spyglass.”
He nodded, all joviality. “And wasn’t it a great shock, seeing a queenly redheaded beauty carrying a milk-pail from the old hag’s byre!
Us seamen give Dobnelu’s fjord a wide berth accounta her curses. But nothin’s to stop us peepin‘ at the place as we sail on by. I studied through the glass and nigh jumped out o’ my skin when I realized ‘twas you: Ironcrown’s wife that was supposed to be drownded in Cathra, alive and well and back home in Tarn. I pondered it for days, wonderin’ what to do.”
“Wondering how he could turn his discovery to profit!” Rusgann
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