A Necklace of Fallen Stars

  He turned to the bellowing crowd. "It is over," his voice tolled; his was no triumph.

  The king gestured for Fordryn to approach the royal box. When the man was before him, he spoke, his eyes betraying a new respect for the wizard. "I shall keep my word, old man, but," he added craftily, "I shall keep your talisman as well. You may go free, if you consent to leave it here."

  "I shall leave it, my lord," said Fordryn, an amused glint in his eyes. "But I fear it will sorely disappoint you. A staff is but a symbol of the power of the one who holds it; if wielded for the larger good, it will serve you and others well; but if you seek to wield it for your own aggrandizement, it will, in the end, become your master. It is, Sire, very like a crown; it will not make you a wizard any more than a crown alone makes you king."

  "Are you insinuating," growled Bergyn, "that I am a bad king?"

  "Nay, my lord," Fordryn replied. "You are not a bad king, but you have imprisoned your gentle side."

  "You showed no gentleness using your power, wizard," the king protested.

  Fordryn smiled faintly. "Perhaps not," he murmured. "But remember, power needs wisdom to guide it, Bergyn. People have real power only over themselves. Those who strive to bind others have already enslaved themselves."

  The king's face went gray; then color rushed back like a flood tide. His hand flew to his sword, but Fordryn met his gaze unflinchingly and Bergyn's hand dropped to his side.

  "Go now," the king said. "Your words are powerful, but perhaps they are merely more wizard's tricks. I must think on them."

  Fordryn turned and departed, his robes whispering against the rough ground. Outside the city, he found Lidra safe, sitting calmly beneath a tree, waiting for him.

  He smiled and hugged her in greeting. "The transporting wasn't too rough for you?"

  She wrinkled her nose and smiled. "Not much," she replied. "I prefer my own feet though. Whatever took you so long? Trouble with old Bergyn? He didn't see through our illusions, did he?"

  Fordryn chuckled. "Oh, no," he replied. "The hoodwinking was complete. But I tried—not vainly, I hope—to lesson the king."

  "And your staff?" she inquired.

  His smile grew broader. "It was part of the lesson. And speaking of lessons, daughter, how did you come by that journeyman's star? And why aren't you in school?"

  She laughed at his mock severity. "Let me tell you as we walk. We've a long way."

  ***

  She ended and there was a silence thicker than any hubbub. One of the older men spoke. "I say she's kept up her end of the bargain admirably. Let's cut the minstrel loose and let them free."

  "What an old fool you are, Lorik," Baryl snapped. "We can take them both back with us and please the Captain."

  "For shame, Baryl," came a new voice from the door. A tall young man pushed into the room. He was fair, dressed in a fine suit of green with a wide-brimmed hat that shadowed his face. There was a scarlet plume in the hatband. "I do believe," he continued lazily, a mocking note in his voice, "that you really meant to break your given word. What did I tell you about breaking your word?" He turned toward Baryl and his bright eyes gleamed coldly, even from the shadow of his hat.

  "Well, Captain—sir—you said that—that..." he paused to compose himself. "That breaking one's word isn't chivalrous."

  "Exactly," the Captain said. "And of course, you don't wish to be guilty of behavior that is not chivalrous, correct?"

  "Oh, absolutely."

  "Then what do we do with the lass and the minstrel?"

  "Let them go, sir."

  "Precisely." The Captain walked over to Kippen, cut his bonds and pulled him to his feet. "Look after the girl," he remarked, "for she's a quick one and you are rather far in her debt."

  Kippen nodded. "And in yours."

  The Captain shrugged. "Fair, after all, is fair." He turned to include Kaela. "Godspeed."

  She bowed to him.

  "And by the way," he added as they both started toward the door, "that was a good tale, lass."

  Chapter Two

  Though Melina had heard the first-warning gong for supper, she could not bring herself to leave the quiet of the solarium and the peace of her tapestry. She sighed at the work; it was barely half done, a small hanging depicting a ring of dancing maidens. All but one of the maidens were fair, and the one dark one looked unmistakably like Kaela. Melina stared at that one and sighed. There would be a scene when Kaela was not at the evening meal and yet another, angrier one when it was discovered that the errant princess had left the city. "My princess, did you not hear the gong?"

  Melina started and turned to find Duke Gavrin watching her as he stood in the eastern doorway.

  "You startled me, my lord," she said lightly. "I did not hear you come in. The second has rung?" she added.

  He frowned. "No. Just the first. But you seemed lost in contemplation. I assume you have heard my good news." There was a grim irony in the way he stressed the last two words. Melina looked questioningly at him.

  "I am to wed your youngest sister. I shall be your brother, Lady Princess," he mocked coolly.

  "Yes," she responded colorlessly. "My father did mention something of the sort."

  His eyebrows lifted. "You do not wish me well, Lady Princess?"

  Melina's slow anger kindled. How she longed to fling her box of threads at the duke and scream. But sense and training held her back. She replied in a civil tone, though her bright eyes betrayed her outrage. "No, my lord," she said. "I expect both you and Kaela will be thoroughly miserable."

  His face hardened. "Kaela's misery," he said, his voice deadly, "was part of the bargain. How then, my Lady Princess, will her misery touch me?"

  "We all know," she replied, controlled, "how difficult Kaela can be when crossed."

  Duke Gavrin smiled, a slow, awful smile. "I, too, can be unpleasant."

  In the silence, they heard the second-warning gong. The duke offered Melina his arm and escorted her out of the silent solarium into the bustle of the rest of the castle. Melina was hard put to keep from flinching away from him.

  "Would she run away?" Duke Gavrin asked abruptly, into a silence that had already grown uncomfortable.

  "What? Kaela?" Melina asked, gathering her wits. "Oh no. Even she could not be such a fool. Why, a girl alone...anything could happen." And suddenly Melina had to fight back a wave of cold panic, for she knew she had spoken the truth.

  Duke Gavrin shrugged as they turned the comer and entered the long hall where meals were served.

  "But look," he said. "Her place is empty."

  Melina smiled. "My lord, Kaela is often late for meals."

  "True," he agreed grimly. "But if she has run away, it will go hard with her."

  Melina laughed uncomfortably. "It would seem to me, my lord, that if she has run away, you will be hard put to reach her." Then she excused herself and sought her place at the head table. She would have felt even less comfortable, had she seen the look the duke followed her with.

  The King was terribly angry that Kaela was not there for the evening meal, but he did not seem alarmed or anxious. Even so, Melina had a sick feeling of impending disaster and could not eat very much.

  After the meal, the King and a few favored lords rose to depart for their after-dinner cordial. As the King passed Melina's chair, he paused and spoke to her.

  "Join us in ten minutes in the east parlor," he said ominously. "I want to talk with you." Then he stalked off.

  "I wonder what he wants," Tamera commented, in a tone that implied she knew. "Since it's weddings in the air, perhaps he's chosen your bridegroom."

  "Very funny," Melina snapped.

  "Or perhaps," she continued, "since Kaela has apparently run off, he'll give you to Gavrin."

  "Do you want him for king when father dies?" Melina said sharply and more loudly than she had intended. There was a short, scandalized hush from those who had heard, before chatter resumed with an almost frantic vigor.

  Tamera sat, rega
rding her sister with something between contempt and anger. "You're in trouble now, Melina," she said. "Speak of the King's death, on top of everything else. Father knows you were the last to see Kaela—and that she was crying! He'll have the truth out of you."

  Melina regained her composure. "Doubtless he shall. But you'll not have it first, dear sister." Then she rose and excused herself, walking with dread toward the east parlor and the confrontation.

  The door was opened solemnly for her, and she was ushered in by the King's manservant. Her father and two other lords sat in the large, overstuffed plush chairs, facing the bright fire and watching her. Melina curtsied to them, hoping her nervousness was not too apparent. She knew both the lords: Duke Gavrin and the young Lord Talmot. Talmot's presence reassured her, for of all the Court lords he knew Kaela best. He had tutored her for a year; and though she knew he did not approve of all of Kaela's escapades, he had often spoken for her when no one else would have dared. Melina smiled at him and he returned one even as the King waved her to a chair.

  "Sit, Melina," he growled. "Where is Kaela?"

  She shrugged delicately. "I'm sure I haven't any idea, Father."

  "Did you catch up with her after she left us?" the King persisted.

  "I —" On the verge of denying the charge, she remembered Tamera's words. "Yes. I begged her to repent of her rashness and when she refused, I told her she was a young fool and that she deserved her fate—begging your pardon," she added to Gavrin with just enough hesitation and irony to make certain he would not take her literally. Melina noticed that Talmot arched an eyebrow at her, but she felt there was more respect than censure in his expression.

  "I do not believe you," the King said bluntly. "I have been told," he continued with a conspiratorial glance at Gavrin, "that you embraced her, and that you both said farewell as if parting for a long time. Well?"

  Melina's chin rose. "Very well," she said angrily. "Kaela told me she would run away—would die in the wilderness—rather than marry Gav—Duke Gavrin."

  "Why didn't you come to me directly?" her father thundered. "I'd have placed her under guard and this never would have happened."

  "That is why I didn't go to you, father," she said, her voice rising. "Because you would have made her marry that man; because you would have bound her, as you have tried to bind her all her life; because she would die before her spirit broke. I love Kaela. I love that in her which you hate the most, and I will not have you destroy it. I hope she ran away! I hope she is out of your reach! I hope that by now she is on a merchant vessel, halfway to Kalledann!"

  Father and daughter stared at each other in fury. The King's hands were tense on the chair arms, as though to push himself to his feet at any instant. Melina stood, drawn up to her full height, her head thrown back and her eyes bright with anger.

  "It shall not be, Melina," the King said, deadly quiet. "Kaela has defied me once too often..."

  "And your pride is stung," Melina finished for him angrily.

  He rose to his feet, towering over his tall daughter. "The kings of Visin are a proud race," he thundered.

  "So are their daughters," she retorted, undaunted. "Where do you think Kaela's determination comes from?"

  "Enough!" said Talmot sharply, and like erring schoolchildren, both the King and Melina started guiltily. "Sit down. I know very well that I'm beyond my authority," he said calmly, in response to a quelling look from the King, "but, my liege, if you wish to get anything solved, both of you must calm down. Our aim is to get Kaela back before evil befalls her. As you told Duke Gavrin, Lady Princess, 'a girl alone...anything could happen'!"

  Both king and princess sat down.

  "For once, Your Majesty," Duke Gavrin began, coldly, "I agree with Lord Talmot. Kaela must be found immediately. I have no desire that my name be dragged about in such a scandal. Find her before the story goes too far, and see that she'll wed me with no fuss, or I shall withdraw suit."

  Melina glared at the duke. "Kaela, my lord, never does anything loathsome without a fuss. Perhaps you should withdraw suit regardless."

  Duke Gavrin ignored her. "To aid in Kaela's swift—shall we say—return? I have a servant whose...talents...might prove very useful. Shall I summon him?"

  The King looked at him shrewdly. "This is the fellow you've mentioned?"

  Gavrin nodded.

  "Yes, do. Send my man."

  In a few moments, the servant returned and announced the newcomer as he ushered him in.

  "Master Stafgrym, Your Majesty."

  Melina looked up at him curiously. Master Stafgrym was not an old man, though his hair and beard were streaked with gray. What struck Melina the most were his eyes, which were a very pale green and bulged slightly in their sockets as if they had been set carelessly. As he was presented to the King, he hunched his shoulders and bowed, rubbing his hands together, then stroked his lanky beard with one hand. As Melina watched him, she felt herself trying to pull away, to hide in the cushions of her chair, her elbows tight against her sides.

  "Lord Talmot," the King was saying. "And my daughter, Melina."

  When Master Stafgrym turned his eyes on her, Melina was hard put to suppress her shudder. There was something so cold, calculating and utterly without mercy in his gaze that she felt a sudden tight knot in her stomach.

  "She's very pretty," Master Stafgrym remarked, as though, Melina thought, praising a mare or the lines of a ship. "If Princess Kaela is at all like her, no wonder my master is so determined to get her back." He chuckled, but his mirth rang false and somehow spiteful.

  "Young Kaela," Lord Talmot put in unexpectedly, "is a feisty little minx with enough temper, energy and determination to make us all look like bed cushions by comparison. She's not one bit like our Lady Princess, and you are a much greater fool than you seem if you seriously entertain for one moment the notion that Duke Gavrin is interested in anything beyond her title."

  Stafgrym gave a thin-lipped grimace and wagged his finger at Lord Talmot, at once scolding and smug. "You have overlooked one thing, my lord: she can bear my master an heir."

  "I am revolted!" Melina exploded. "Kaela is a thinking, feeling human being, not a mindless broodmare for some aristocrat of Visin!"

  "And you, Lady Princess," said Master Stafgrym mockingly, "are a tender-hearted idealist. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. How exactly, Your Most Gracious Majesty, can a poor, humble Fytrian wizard be of service?"

  "You can find my daughter and bring her back before..." The King trailed off.

  Master Stafgrym nodded, sympathetically. "Yes. Before the country's dissenters begin to get ideas."

  The King's eyes opened wider. "'Get ideas'—how?"

  The wizard feigned flustered innocence. "Isn't that what you meant, Your Graciousness? Well it's nothing really, just—well, nothing at all."

  "Just what!" the King demanded, beginning to look alarmed.

  "Well," Stafgrym floundered. "Just—well, things must be different here, if you didn't think of it—but, well, in Fytria if the King could not discipline his own daughter—I mean, if the King's sworn word wasn't carried out—the troublemakers, the rebellious, would begin to think that he wouldn't be able to discipline them either. It could start a rebellion. But of course, there are no strong factions here."

  The King paled as he thought of all the angry controversies that had been building up over the last years.

  "And of course," Stafgrym continued, "the whole situation is different, for you never gave your sworn word that Kaela would marry my master—"

  Both Melina and the King began to protest, but each thought better of it, Melina out of prudence and the King out of something akin to shame.

  "—and a good thing, too," he went on. "Not that I meant—I mean... But what did you mean, Your Majesty, when you said to 'bring Kaela back before...'?" The King looked blank, then with a smile that was at best strained, he replied, "Why, before Duke Gavrin withdraws suit. For you see," he added recklessly, defiantly, "I did swea
r that Kaela should marry him."

  Master Stafgrym frowned. "Oh well, yes. I see. She must be found before the tale goes too far, or else..."

  "Or else?" the King prompted impatiently.

  Stafgrym shrugged deprecatingly. "Well, in Fytria—but no doubt things are different here—but in Fytria, to defy the King's sworn word—why, that's treason. High treason."

  Melina's blood froze in her veins. Surely, she prayed, her father wasn't such a proud fool. Surely he would laugh at the ridiculousness of the thought: Kaela guilty of treason! Surely—then she looked at him, and from the fear in his eyes she knew he was beyond, far beyond, laughter. Her breath was tight in her lungs while she waited for him to speak.

  "But of course," the wizard added slyly, "things are lax—I mean different—in Visin."

  The King rose to his feet, fear and fury in his eyes. "Things are not lax in Visin!" he cried. "I am a strong king, not a sentimental weakling. If Kaela is not found within two days—"

  "No, father!" Melina cried. "No! Sometimes it takes more strength to be merciful! It is easy to punish but difficult, oh so difficult, to forgive."

  The King rounded on her. "Don't waste your breath, Melina. You're in league with her, most like! Well, understand this, daughter: I swore that Kaela should marry Duke Gavrin, and she shall. If you know where she is, tell her this. If she is not found within two days, I shall declare her guilty of high treason. You may go now."

  "You would murder her to salve your dignity?" she cried. "Have you gone mad? Or are you bluffing to scare her?"