Now she did shiver; the thought of the great, blind, flightless carnivores trained for watchman-duty. She said, “Who needs a banshee for that when a good Rouser hound is as useful, and much nicer to have around the house?”
“I’ll not argue that,” said Alderic, “and I would sooner climb High Kimbi in my bare feet than try to train a banshee; but it can be done. I cannot handle even sentry-birds; I have not the gift, but some of the women of our family do so, and I have seen it done in the Tower, where they use them for fire-watch; their eyes see further than any human’s.” Soft strains of music began again and he asked, “Would you like to dance this one?”
She shook her head. “Not yet, thanks – it is warm, the sun coming in like this.”
Alderic bowed to someone behind her, and Romilly turned to see Luciella standing there. She said, “Romilly, you have not yet danced with Dom Garris!”
he said scornfully, “It is like him to complain to my stepmother instead of coming like a man to ask me himself.”
Romilly! He is heir to Scathfell!”
I don’t care if he is heir to Cloudland Staircase or to Zandru’s ninth hell, if he wants to dance-” she began, but Dom Garris appeared behind Luciella and said, with his plump smile, “Will you honor me with a dance, Mistress Romilly?”
here was, after all, no way to refuse without being really rude. He was her parents’ guest, even though she felt he should dance with the women his own age and not hang around gawking at the young girls. She accepted his hand on her wrist to lead her out to dance. After all, he could not say or do anything rude in the full view of her father and her brothers, and half the countryside round. His hand on hers was unpleasantly damp, but she supposed that was not anything he could help.
Why, you are light as a feather on your feet, damisela- quite the young lady! Who would have thought it this morning, seeing you in your boots and breeches like a boy – I suppose all the young lads in the countryside are hanging around you, heh?”
Romilly shook her head silently. She detested this kind of talk, though she knew it would have made Mallina giggle and blush. When they had finished the dance he asked her for another, but she declined politely, saying she had a stitch in her side. He wanted to fetch her wine or a glass of shallan, but when she said she only wished to sit down by Darissa for a little he sat beside them and insisted on fanning her. Fortunately, by the time that dance was over, the musicians had struck up another ring-dance and all the young folks were gathering into circles, laughing and kicking up their heels in the rowdy figure. Dom Garris finally went away, sulking, and Romilly released her breath.
“You have made another conquest,” Darissa teased.
“Not likely; dancing with me is like grabbing at a scullery-girl, something he can do without committing himself to anything,” Romilly said. “The Aldarans of Scathfell are too high to marry into our clan, except for their younger sons. Father spoke once of marrying me to Manfred Storn, but he’s not fifteen yet, and there’s no hurry. Yet, though I am not high enough to marry, I am too well-born for him to seduce without reprisal, and I do not like him well enough for that.” She smiled and added, “The worst thing about wedding with Cinhil, should he offer for me, would be having to call that great fat slug brother. Yet kinship’s dues, I dare say, would at least make it unseemly for him to pay me more than the attention due a brother’s wife.”
“I would not count on that,” said Darissa in an undertone, “When I was pregnant with little Rafael, last year, he came and sought me out – he said that since I was already with child I need fear no unseemly consequences, and when I chided him, he said he looked backward to the old days in the hills, when brothers and sisters held all their wives in common . . . and surely, he said, Cathal would pay him a brother’s kindness and not care if I shared his bed now and again, since his wife was also big with breeding – I kicked his shins and told him to find a servant-girl for his bed if he could pay one to overlook his ugliness; and so I wounded his pride and he has not come near me again. To tell the truth he is not so bad-looking, only he whines and his hands are always flabby and damp. And-” she added, showing the dimples which were almost the only thing unchanged from the time when she and Romilly had been girls together, “I love Cathal too well to seek any other bed.”