The Black Raven

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Jahdo pulled the silver dagger from its sheath and stared at it for a long long time without speaking. They were standing outside in the late afternoon sunlight, not far from the stables, where Jahdo had been shovelling snow with one of the flat mucking-out shovels.

‘Oh, it be so splendid!’ Jahdo held the dagger up, and the blade caught the light and flashed like a mirror. ‘Here, I could never be taking this!’

‘You can, and you shall,’ Rhodry said, grinning. ‘Though I think you’d best keep it up in Dallandra’s chamber where the other lads can’t find it.’

‘True spoken.’ Jahdo ran a fingertip down the blade. ‘There be a device on it, a little falcon, like.’

‘That was Jill’s father’s mark, and she used it too, of course.’

‘He were a sorcerer, then, such as she?’

‘He wasn’t, but the greatest swordsman in all Deverry.’

‘Ah.’ Jahdo sheathed the blade, hefted the dagger for a moment, then handed it back to Rhodry. ‘I do hate to give it up, but truly, it had best wait for me up in the tower.’

‘I’ll take it. And talking of Jill reminds me, lad. I made you a promise, didn’t I? About teaching you letters. It’s a fair way to spring yet, so let’s make a start.’

‘Oh, my thanks! I did wonder, my lord, but I did hate to vex you or suchlike –’

‘No harm in reminding me, and I’m no lord.’

‘Well, you be so to me, as generous as any man could be.’

For a moment Jahdo thought Rhodry was about to cry, from the way he turned away with a toss of his head.

‘My thanks,’ Rhodry said, and his voice was unsteady. ‘Here, I’ll hunt up a slate or suchlike. Cadmar’s scribe should have one. And we’ll start today.’

Rhodry turned and hurried off across the ward. Jahdo watched him go, then went back to his work before the head groom caught him slacking.

Jahdo was just leaving the stables when he saw a small procession coming from the broch complex. At its head trotted Carra’s dog, with Carra and Lady Ocradda just behind, and two pages following along after them. Jahdo felt himself blush. Here he was, with his clothes filthy on top and sweaty inside, and the princess was heading straight for him.

‘Jahdo!’ Carra called out. ‘It gladdens my heart to see you.’

‘And mine to see you, your highness,’ Jahdo said, stepping back. ‘But er, I be a bit mucky right now, and so –’

‘Do you think that bothers me?’ Carra smiled at him. ‘I’ve come to see how my horse fares. I thought I’d fetch him out for a bit of sun and walk him round the ward.’

Ocradda looked as sour as if she’d bitten into wormy meat. Jahdo could guess that the princess had fought a battle to be allowed to come to the stables at all.

‘I’ll bring Gwerlas out for you,’ Jahdo said. ‘You’d best not be going in there with your long dresses and all. Some of the men, well, they be careless when they do muck out their mounts’ stalls.’

‘Oh here! I’ve always cared for my own horses, all the years that I –’

‘Your highness!’ Ocradda interrupted. ‘The lad’s right. Let him wait upon you! Er, I mean, if you please.’

‘Oh very well. But be careful. Gwer can be a bit bitey.’

More than a bit, or so Jahdo knew from the earlier times when he’d cared for the horse. Still, the big dun gelding seemed to be in a good mood that afternoon; he allowed Jahdo to tie a rope onto his halter and lead him out without showing so much as a tooth. Out in the sun Gwerlas snorted and tossed his mane, then spotted Carra and headed straight for her with Jahdo trotting along at his side.

‘There you are!’ Carra crooned. ‘My darling!’

When she threw her arms around his neck, the horse snuffled at her cloak and nudged her. Lady Ocradda rolled her eyes heavenward in something like despair. For their walk around the ward, Carra insisted on leading the horse herself, but she did allow Jahdo to hold onto the loose end of the rope for appearances’ sake. A disgruntled Ocradda and the pages trailed behind as they followed the exercise path, a broad swathe next to the dun walls that had been cleared of the usual sheds and clutter.