And let Kyndreth and the others scheme as they would, for he was finally on the right side.
26
Kyrtian's own estate was roughly halfway between Moth s property and Lord Cheynar's, around the perimeter of the ragged circle defined by the outermost Elvenlord estates. Although it might have been shorter to cut through the heart of elven lands, it was quicker to take Moth's Portal to his own property, select the men he wanted, and go from there to the nearest estate with a Portal that he could get access to. In this case, it was the estate of the late unlamented Lord Dyran, which had eventually wound up in the hands of Lord Kyndreth. Dyran's estate bordered on the desert; Cheynar's, between Dyran's land and the rest of the elven-held world, was in well-watered hills that ran up to low, forested mountains that were equally well watered. So much water, in fact, that the estate spent most of the winter shrouded in grey clouds that drizzled continuously. There could not have been a greater contrast in territory, but that wasn't the most interesting part. The interesting part was, beneath those hills and mountains—caves, and a great many of them.
Going home first also allowed him to take Rennati back to the estate. That took one burden off his mind and would give him an excuse to leave Gel as well. Not that he didn't want Gel along—but this would not be a mission where Gel's expertise was needed. Given that he could not be at home, he wanted someone he trusted to be there. Lady Lydiell was clever and cunning, but she was no soldier. If soldiers were needed, Gel could command as well, if not better, than Kyrtian.
As for his own troops, those who were left were by this time heartily tired of real warfare and ready to go back to the farm, field, and household positions they had left. It was time to take them home, too—and by the greatest of good fortune, he would be taking all of them home. There had been only minor casualties among his own people, no deaths at all, and those injuries they sustained were neither crippling nor incapacitating. That was not by accident or entirely by good fortune alone; Kyrtian's men, with their greater expertise in fighting than the Young Lords' conscripts, had shown their clear superiority in the field in all ways.
He was terribly proud of them. The point was, they weren't professional, trained fighters; they were fanners, house-servants, herders. But they had applied themselves with will and enthusiasm to his training, and when called on to use that training, they had done so with all the dedication he could have asked for.
He didn't quite know how to reward them; the kind of great feast he usually held for a successful "campaign" was woefully inadequate as a recompense. And as he shepherded the last of his people through Moth's Portal, he made a mental note to ask his mother her opinion. Of all people, she surely should have some notion.
Finally there were only the three of them left to cross—himself, Gel, and Rennati. And as he watched the other two waiting patiently for the Portal to clear, with Gel's arm openly and protectively around the apprehensive little dancer, he knew with considerable amusement that there was at least one person he had had no difficulty in fitting a reward to. There had been a grain of truth in that pompous and incredibly insulting little speech he'd made in front of Lady Triana; he really did hope that Gel would have a son—or several—to train to take the father's place at Kyrtian's side. No one could have had a better bodyguard—or friend—and Kyrtian was not looking forward to the day when he would have to tell Gel to stand down and let another take his place. But like it or not, the fact was that unless something happened to him, Kyrtian would likely be served by Gel's great-great-great-great-grandchildren. Near-immortality came with its own costs.
He shook off the melancholy thought, and brought his mind back to the present. Lady Lydiell would be very amused, he was sure, when she realized what had happened between Ren-nati and Gel. An inveterate matchmaker, she had been trying to pair Gel off for years. She'd find the current situation entirely to her liking.
She'll have them tucked up in a little cottage or suite of their own in the manor before the two of them get a chance to turn around.
"Go on through, you two," he said, waving at them. He turned to Moth, as they stepped into the utter blackness within the Portal.
"Are you going to be all right?" he asked. "Can you keep those idiot children from trying to start the rebellion all over again, or somehow getting caught?"
She laughed. "The day I can't keep an unruly pack of puppies like that under my thumb, now that they've had a good scare, is the day you might as well start planning my funeral-games. You and your boys showed them that everything they'd won against their fathers was due to their incredible good luck, the Wizards' iron, and the Great Lords' incompetence. They're happy enough to be escaping the hounds, and I imagine they'll stay that way for some little while."
He had to smile at that. "I should have known better than to ask; I should be asking them if they think they'll be safe from you."
"Indeed you should." Moth smiled, and winked. "Two or three of those lads are rather toothsome, and still young enough to train properly. I'm not too old to remarry." She grinned as he laughed. "Now, get on with you. By now, poor Lydiell is probably wondering if the Portal's broken down."
He embraced her, then stepped across the threshold.
As soon as he recovered from the shock of crossing, which was always disorienting, he saw that his mother had already sorted out the new relationship between Gel and Rennati. And much to Gel's surprise and bemusement, she had taken it all in stride and with considerable aplomb—and from the sound of things, had begun making plans for them without waiting for Kyrtian.
Heh. I wonder if he expected Mother to be shocked or outraged that Rennati has managed to capture him? He should have known better than that—given all the matchmaking she's done all over the estate! He's just lucky she never seriously took it into her head to find a woman for him, or he 'd have been tied up long before this.
"Our people will expect a wedding-ceremony and a feast, of course," she was explaining to a bewildered Rennati. "Our Gel is a person of great importance here, and if we did anything less, people would feel cheated. We'll have to have all of the fighters and their families, of course—I wonder if we could have the whole thing in the open air? I can't think of any building on the estate large enough to fit everyone inside—"
"But—" Rennati said, feebly, looking alarmed.
"Oh, I know you've no idea what to do, child," Lydiell continued calmly. "But our people never had their traditions wrenched from them and buried past retrieval. They have their priests and their rituals exactly as they did before we came on the scene. Don't concern yourself with it; they know what to do, and if you can learn a clever dance, you can certainly learn a simple wedding ceremony. Now, this could fit in very nicely with the general homecoming; your wedding can be the start of a week of festivities and—"
"Mother, my love," Kyrtian interrupted her. "Don't forget, with all your planning, I have to be off with a select crew on Lord Kyndreth's Wizard-hunt as soon as may be. This will have to look as if I consider it to be as urgent as he does."
"So Gel tells me," Lydiell said serenely. "All the more reason to have the wedding as soon as possible. I have been planning these homecoming celebrations for a fortnight, and you will be here for at least the first day and night of them! And if Kyndreth gets impatient, I will tell him that you needed the time to select exactly the right group of scouts and hunters."