said the Duke, wiping sweat from his brow with a scented handkerchief.
‘I can assure you that the King’s feast will be even finer, my lord. In the spring there will be many other delights which, sadly, the autumn denies us.’
As the slaves cleared away the dishes, Errin clapped his hands and rose.
The guests fell silent. ‘Friends, the Duke hopes you have enjoyed the meal, and now asks that you make your way to the Narrow Hall where musicians are waiting for the dances to begin.’
As the guests filed away a flute began to play in the Narrow Hall, joined by a harp. The sound was lilting and light, and the Duke’s mood changed.
‘By heavens, Errin, is that Corius playing?’
‘It is, my Lord. I took the liberty of requesting his presence for the evening.’
‘The man charges a fortune!’
‘I hope you will accept his performance as a gift, sir.’
The Duke bowed his head. ‘You have outdone yourself. Well done!’ Turning to the Red Knight, he said, ‘I overheard you tell Errin you did not dance. Would you prefer to retire?’
‘I will watch the dancing,’ said the Knight, rising. Errin followed him into the hall, where many couples were now engaged in the Dance of the Winter Sun. The music was merry and Errin saw Dianu dancing with the young knight, Goan. Her dark hair was bound with silver thread and she wore a dress of shimmering white silk.
‘I think,’ said the Knight, ‘that you would prefer to dance rather than to stand with such a sombre guest.’ The ghost of a smile touched his lips as he spoke.
Errin grinned. ‘That is the woman I hope to marry.’
‘Then lead her to the music, sir.’
Errin needed no second invitation. Moving smoothly across the hall to the dancers, he tapped Goan on the shoulder. ‘Goan, my dear fellow, would you introduce the King’s messenger to the other guests?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Thank you.’ Errin took Dianu’s arm and led her into the dance. When the music stopped he took her to the rear of the hall, where slaves were stationed carrying silver trays on which were goblets of light, white wine. Errin took one and passed it to his companion.
‘You are looking exceedingly beautiful this evening,’ he told her.
‘I only came because you asked me,’ said Dianu. ‘What do you know of that strange young man with the white hair?’
‘His name is Cairbre. I know nothing of him, save that he is the King’s messenger.’
‘His face is very sad.’
‘These are sad times,’ he whispered. ‘Come, let us seek some air.’
They left unnoticed through a side door and mounted the steps to a small chamber, where Errin had ordered a fire lit. The room was warm, the window open. Dianu wandered to it, staring out over the town of Mactha and its twinkling lights.
‘I am leaving for Cithaeron,’ she said.
‘Leaving? But why?’
She turned suddenly. ‘Oh, Errin, don’t be such a fool! The King is murdering Nomads, the kingdom is falling ever more deeply in debt. Every day there are stories of unrest, of murder and robbery. Where will it end?’
He moved to her and led her from the window. ‘Best not to speak of such things where you can be overheard,’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘But Furbolg is a long way away, and in Mactha we do not suffer.’
‘We
do not suffer. But there are food shortages in the countryside - and winter is not yet here. It is all right for the nobility, with its roast swans. But swans will not feed a nation, Errin.’
‘I had hoped we could be married at Midwinter,’ he said. ‘Are you saying the marriage will not take place?’
She took his hand and kissed it. ‘Of course I am not saying that. I love you. But we could be married in Cithaeron?’
Errin shook his head. ‘You cannot leave without the King’s blessing,’ he said, ‘and he will not give it. The Duke was telling me that seven noble families have secretly left the realm, taking their riches with them. They have been branded traitors and their
‘I can assure you that the King’s feast will be even finer, my lord. In the spring there will be many other delights which, sadly, the autumn denies us.’
As the slaves cleared away the dishes, Errin clapped his hands and rose.
The guests fell silent. ‘Friends, the Duke hopes you have enjoyed the meal, and now asks that you make your way to the Narrow Hall where musicians are waiting for the dances to begin.’
As the guests filed away a flute began to play in the Narrow Hall, joined by a harp. The sound was lilting and light, and the Duke’s mood changed.
‘By heavens, Errin, is that Corius playing?’
‘It is, my Lord. I took the liberty of requesting his presence for the evening.’
‘The man charges a fortune!’
‘I hope you will accept his performance as a gift, sir.’
The Duke bowed his head. ‘You have outdone yourself. Well done!’ Turning to the Red Knight, he said, ‘I overheard you tell Errin you did not dance. Would you prefer to retire?’
‘I will watch the dancing,’ said the Knight, rising. Errin followed him into the hall, where many couples were now engaged in the Dance of the Winter Sun. The music was merry and Errin saw Dianu dancing with the young knight, Goan. Her dark hair was bound with silver thread and she wore a dress of shimmering white silk.
‘I think,’ said the Knight, ‘that you would prefer to dance rather than to stand with such a sombre guest.’ The ghost of a smile touched his lips as he spoke.
Errin grinned. ‘That is the woman I hope to marry.’
‘Then lead her to the music, sir.’
Errin needed no second invitation. Moving smoothly across the hall to the dancers, he tapped Goan on the shoulder. ‘Goan, my dear fellow, would you introduce the King’s messenger to the other guests?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Thank you.’ Errin took Dianu’s arm and led her into the dance. When the music stopped he took her to the rear of the hall, where slaves were stationed carrying silver trays on which were goblets of light, white wine. Errin took one and passed it to his companion.
‘You are looking exceedingly beautiful this evening,’ he told her.
‘I only came because you asked me,’ said Dianu. ‘What do you know of that strange young man with the white hair?’
‘His name is Cairbre. I know nothing of him, save that he is the King’s messenger.’
‘His face is very sad.’
‘These are sad times,’ he whispered. ‘Come, let us seek some air.’
They left unnoticed through a side door and mounted the steps to a small chamber, where Errin had ordered a fire lit. The room was warm, the window open. Dianu wandered to it, staring out over the town of Mactha and its twinkling lights.
‘I am leaving for Cithaeron,’ she said.
‘Leaving? But why?’
She turned suddenly. ‘Oh, Errin, don’t be such a fool! The King is murdering Nomads, the kingdom is falling ever more deeply in debt. Every day there are stories of unrest, of murder and robbery. Where will it end?’
He moved to her and led her from the window. ‘Best not to speak of such things where you can be overheard,’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘But Furbolg is a long way away, and in Mactha we do not suffer.’
‘We
do not suffer. But there are food shortages in the countryside - and winter is not yet here. It is all right for the nobility, with its roast swans. But swans will not feed a nation, Errin.’
‘I had hoped we could be married at Midwinter,’ he said. ‘Are you saying the marriage will not take place?’
She took his hand and kissed it. ‘Of course I am not saying that. I love you. But we could be married in Cithaeron?’
Errin shook his head. ‘You cannot leave without the King’s blessing,’ he said, ‘and he will not give it. The Duke was telling me that seven noble families have secretly left the realm, taking their riches with them. They have been branded traitors and their
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