Fate's Star

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  “Warna is of Palins, of the Barony of Farentell,” Wolfe said firmly. There was a warning note in his voice when he added. “She is a guest in my home.”

  “She is an innocent, Charrin.” Verice said. “She fled her own home in the face of the Usurper’s—”

  “My Lord Verice, welcome.” Charrin’s voice was hard. “It has been some time since you graced us with a visit.”

  “It has,” Verice said mildly. One of the dogs at his feet whined softly and pushed its head into his hand to be petted. “Far too long,” he added, stroking the dog’s ears.

  “The demands of your office, I am sure,” Charrin said. “Being the High Baron to a savage people.”

  “Charrin,” Wolfe growled.

  “Charrin, let me aid you to—” Kalynn reached for his arm.

  “No,” Charrin bit out the word. “I need no aid.” He moved forward, his steps deliberate but confident. The dogs were quick to move out of his way. Charrin sat in one of the chairs, settling himself with an easy grace.

  “You seem to be getting around well,” Verice commented.

  “A spell,” Wolfe said. “It occurred to me that it might be possible to allow him to—”

  “See?” Warna blurted out.

  “No,” Charrin said. “It allows me to perceive. To sense the space around me. But it is not sight. There is no color, no depth, no...beauty.”

  Warna bit her lip at the venom in his tone. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “A human,” Charrin’s voice was flat now.

  “I have taken her under my protection,” Verice said. “She has a gift of—”

  “And we all know how well you protect your own,” Charrin snapped.

  Verice’s head stayed down. His hand paused, then he continued to pet the dogs.

  “Charrin,” Wolfe growled again, but Kalynn touched Warna on her arm. Warna looked up into her warm smile.

  “I think we could all do with hot kav before this conversation continues,” Kalynn said. “Would you help me?”

  “Of course,” Warna stood quickly, more than ready to leave the room.

  “I’ll brew a fresh pot,” Kalynn said to the men. “We’ll return when it’s done.” She paused before descending the stairs. “Try not to destroy the furniture, Wolfe.”

  Warna followed, down the cluttered stairs. She waited until they were out of sight before speaking. “M’lady, I am sorry that—”

  “You are not the cause, Warna.” Kalynn glanced over her shoulder with a sympathetic look. “Verice can be insensitive at times, don’t you think?”

  “Well,” Warna said, thinking back. “He expects his word to be law, that’s certain.”

  Kalynn laughed, and led the way down and then through an arched doorway into a bright kitchen with round windows that let sunlight stream in and pool on the stone floor. Day into night; night into day. How marvelous. There was a small fire in the hearth, and a pot of something that smelled wonderful suspended over it, bubbling away.

  “This doorway wasn’t here before.” Warna stopped in the archway, glancing back at the stairs. “And the sun—”

  “It’s Wolfe’s mage tower, dear,” Kalynn went to the hearth and pulled over a kettle. “It’s what it needs to be.”

  Warna moved farther into the kitchen, marveling at the idea of a mage tower. On the far side of a wooden table, a cat lay in a patch of sunlight. It had the oddest mottled coat of black, brown, yellow and a kind of green. Not pretty exactly but—

  The cat fixed its watery yellow eyes on her, and rolled onto its back, inviting a belly scratch.

  “Oh, you pretty thing,” Warna crooned, and reached down—

  “Careful,” Kalynn said sharply. “She—”

  Its fur was warm and soft and Warna gave it a good rubbing, careful not to scratch too hard. The cat started purring, a rough rumble that seemed to echo through the room. Warna enjoyed the moment, then straightened. “My family had cats in the stables and—”

  Kalynn was standing there, staring at her unwaveringly. Her light silver eyes seemed unfocused.

  “Lady,” Warna asked tentatively, worried that she had offended.

  Kalynn blinked, then her eyes became sharp. “How long have you known Verice?”

  “A few days,” Warna said cautiously.

  Kalynn nodded, gave her a patient look, then prodded, “And how did you meet?”

  “Well, truth be told—” Warna started.

  “And it’s always best to tell the truth,” Kalynn said. Her eyes softened.

  “He kidnapped me,” Warna blurted out.

  “Ah,” Kalynn set up the kettle to brew. “To keep you safe, I suspect.”

  “Well, yes,” Warna admitted.

  “Still, unsettling, isn’t it?” Kalynn had a soft, smile on her face, as if remembering something. “For what it’s worth, I do believe he has your best interests at heart.” Kalynn gestured at the kettle. “While we are waiting, let’s find you a room for your stay.”

  “If it’s no trouble,” Warna said.

  There was a slight rumble, as if of thunder, coming from overhead. Kalynn shook her head, and took Warna’s arm. “No trouble at all, dear. You have much to show me.”

  Warna tried to puzzle that out, but she must have misheard.

  Kalynn lead the way out the archway. “Up, I think,” Kalynn suggested. “For a better view.”

  Warna watched carefully as they went up a few steps, and found a door on what she could have sworn was an exterior wall.

  Kalynn clicked on the black iron handle and pushed.

  “Oh my,” Warna breathed.

  It was a lovely room, with a small sitting area, and doors leading off. A fire crackled in a fireplace, but what really caught Warna’s eye was the large window in the wall opposite, sparkling with panes of clear glass in a diamond pattern. At the sides were heavy white curtains covered in large pink roses. “Oh, this is marvelous,” Warna whispered, and reached out to undo the clasp and open the windows wide. Kalynn stepped to her side.

  Under a dark night sky filled with stars, a frozen lake stretched out below, surrounded by snow-covered fields as far as she could see. A breeze caught a flurry of snow and it sparkled as it danced over the windowsill.

  On the far shore of the lake, Warna could just make out a crowd of people, dancing slowly and stately in the light of the torches they carried.

  Warna took a deep breath. “Oh my.” She laughed in amazement as she glanced at Kalynn. “That’s all the words I can seem to find!”

  But Kalynn’s face was somber, not sharing her amusement. “Interesting.” Kalynn tucked her hands into her robes. “Have you ever seen the like?”

  “No, never.” Warna shivered as the cold spilled inside.

  Kalynn pulled the windows closed. Warna thought she caught a look of sadness in the woman’s eyes, but when Kalynn turned to her, she was smiling. “What do you think of this? There’s a bedroom through that door, I suspect.”

  There was indeed, and Warna took a few moments to explore the empty clothes press, and the privy. But what drew her was the bed. It beckoned her, with bed curtains and a thick comforter with the same flowered material. She glanced at the door, then climbed up onto it, lying flat. Above, the cloth top was embroidered with flowers and all manner of bees, insects and birds.

  “Oh my,” Warna breathed.

  Kalynn chuckled from the doorway. “So, it will suit?”

  “It’s almost too much, M’Lady.” Warna got up, and smoothed her tunic. She felt almost giddy at the idea of living here, sheltered and safe in this lovely room. Yet she wasn’t quite sure. Was this what she wanted?

  She knew what Verice wanted.

  “I’ll have Verice bring your wicker basket down before he goes.” Kalynn opened the empty clothes press and paused before continuing. “We can see about getting you what you need tomorrow.” She closed the press, and turned back to the door. “Let’s check the kav, shall we?”

  Back on the stairs, Warna frowned. “Ho
w will I find my way back?”

  “It will be there when you want it to,” Kalynn said absently. “I think we should find something for the men to eat. It’s harder for them to argue if their mouths are full.”

  The kitchen was bright and warm, and now smelled of brewing kav. Warna settled on one of the benches as Kalynn pulled out a cutting board and a knife. “Here. Slice some of this cheese, and I’ll cut fruit.”

  “M’Lady,” Warna hesitated, then blurted out her question. “What happened at the castle? I was in the keep, and I saw the broken window, and dried blood on the floor.

  “Dried blood?” Kalynn paused, and shook her head. “Oh, Verice.” her voice filled with soft sorrow. She went silent for a moment.

  Warna waited.

  “Warna, I wasn’t there when it happened.” Kalynn sighed. “And we can’t leave our menfolk alone for an extended time. Wolfe’s temper will only hold for so long. But still—” Kalynn took a deeper breath. “You need to know.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Warna held her breath, waiting for answers.

  “During the Festival of Light and Laughter, the castle and keep at Octara were attacked from within by the Usurper’s forces. The castle was filled with celbrants at the time. Many were killed, more were left badly injured.” Kalynn shook her head. “One of those who died was Summer, Charrin’s mate. Charrin was blinded. Summer died in his arms.”

  “Oh,” Warna whispered.

  “Verice blames himself, even though he barely survived. Healers have a rule, you see. Save the one you can over the one you can’t,” Kalynn said. “Verice wasn’t conscious when the healers made the decision to treat him instead of Summer. Verice blames himself for all of the deaths, not just Summer’s. He commanded the keep be abandoned, and has forbidden any entrance. He maintains a military presence within the castle walls, but that is all.”

  Warna nodded, thinking it over. “It’s all there, untouched, as it was that night?”

  “So far as I know,” Kalynn said. “And he’s gone to extremes to protect everyone and everything he cherishes. His staff and servants scattered among the various towns and villages, kept safely away. A mistake, to my way of thinking. The stars alone know how it will turn out.”

  “But, you are a Seer?” Warna was confused. “Can’t you see the future?”

  Kalynn’s smile faded, and her eyes grew distant. “If only that were so. What I see are possibilities. They swirl about us through the air, like the scent of roses lure one into a garden.” She looked at Warna and wrinkled her nose. “Or the scent of muck pulls you to a midden.”

  “Oh,” Warna said softly. She had rather hoped otherwise.

  Kalynn’s lips curled gently, as if sensing her disappointment. “You are not the first to wish for answers, child. But life does not offer answers. It offers choices. There are endless choices in our lives, Warna. Each choice influences another.”

  Kalynn’s voice was soft and warm, her movements slow and precise in the afternoon sun.

  “Every so often, a seer can influence one person. Show them the possibilities. Just a few words can make all the difference in a person’s choices. Now, where is that crock of honey?”

  Kalynn turned back to the hearth, reaching for a small crock on the mantlepiece, then poured the hot kav into a pitcher. Warna arranged the cups on a tray, and loaded up the cheese and fruit.

  “There, all done.” Kalynn smiled. “It will be so nice to have you here. Perhaps between the two of us we can organize Wolfe’s collections.”

  “It won’t be a problem for me to stay?” Warna asked. “I noticed Verice didn’t ask permission before we appeared on your doorstep.”

  Kalynn laughed. “We’ve known Verice a long time, dear. Wolfe was his mentor. If it was an imposition, we would have declined, trust me on that. If you decide to stay, we would welcome your company.” She gestured to the other tray, and Warna picked it up.

  “Decide?” Warna said.

  “I’m sure you were a dutiful daughter, Warna of Farentell.” Kalynn headed for the stairs. “But now your life is your own. You are free to live as you wish, but that means that you make choices, and live with them.” Kalynn turned up the stairs. “Not always easy.”

  Warna followed, frowning. “Verice told me much the same thing,” she said.

  “Did he?” Kalynn’s voice echoed on the stone walls. “That bodes well, don’t you think?”

  Warna paused on the step. Honestly, it did. If he was sincere. If he truly allowed her to make her own choices.

  “Come,” Kalynn’s voice echoed down to her again, pulling her from her thoughts. “Let’s return before Wolfe decides to express himself with bolts of fire. I rather like those chairs, and he’d melt them to slag without thinking and apologize afterwards.”

  Warna blinked, then followed.

  The air was thick with strain as she and Kalynn emerged onto the roof. All three men were taut, each face stiff with disapproval.

  Warna glanced at Verice as she set the tray down. He didn’t look up, so his eyes were hidden from her. His face was carefully blank, concealing his thoughts.

  Kalynn ignored the frigid silence. “Verice, I think you take your kav black and sweet, yes? All that honey is going to rot your teeth.”

  Verice flashed a tight grin, showing his perfect teeth. “Not so far.”

  “Give it time,” Kalynn replied, handing him the mug and the crock.

  Warna poured for Wolfe, who thanked her.

  “None for me,” Charrin said. “Lady Warna, the Lord High Baron Verice has expressed a desire to know the true potential of your musical abilities.”

  Warna set the pitcher down slowly, almost afraid to breathe. He’d been so angry before she and Kalynn had left the room; she wasn’t sure she trusted this turn-about.

  Charrin’s back didn’t touch the chair, his hands still in his lap. But his face seemed composed and professional.

  “Lord Bard Charrin,” Warna returned formal with formal. “I would be honored, but I would not seek to impose. I would fear to waste your time—”

  “Service to one’s craft is never wasted,” Charrin replied. “But you understand that mine will be an honest assessment? I will tell you the truth.”

  Warna glanced over her shoulder at Verice. “Lord Bard, you should know that my father had me sing for a human minstrel a few years ago. He—”

  “Your pardon,” Charrin said, “but a...minstrel’s...opinion is nothing to me. Let us begin. Do you have any formal training in music or voice?”

  “No, Lord Bard,” Warna said. She smoothed down her tunic front, then stilled her hands.

  “Very well,” Charrin said. “Verice says that you compose.”

  “I make up lyrics and tunes to go with them.” Warna said.

  “Then sing for me, Warna of Farentell,” Charrin commanded. “And we shall see what you have within you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Warna froze. She hadn’t planned, hadn’t practiced. What to sing?

  Her ‘flower’ song wasn’t done yet, so that wasn’t a possibility. The room was so tense, and there was so much grief in them. Nothing sad, then. She drew a slow breath, relaxed her shoulders, and lifted her head.

  “The farmer’s lass was tall and fair;

  her beauty was her fame

  Her suitors came from miles around

  to try and make their claim.”

  Warna breathed, trying to pace her voice and her tone, making sure to hit the notes clearly and evenly.

  “Daily she’d to market go,

  selling cheese and butter.

  They’d stand before with hat in hand

  their troth to spit and stutter.”

  Charrin’s face was blank, his head down and slightly tilted as he listened. But Wolfe and Kalynn were smiling.

  “The lass was also quick and sharp,

  her wit like knives a’slicing

  She’d toss her hair and lift her chin

  and sing out this repr
isal.”

  Warna tossed her own head, tapped her toe three times fast, and broke out into the chorus, giving it her all.

  “Hie thee hither and get thee hence,

  art not the lad for me.

  Hie thee hither and get thee hence,

  art not the lad for me.

  The lad I’ll love is tall and dark

  and handsome as can be.

  So, hie thee hither and get thee hence,

  art not the lad for me.”

  Kalynn laughed, Wolfe smiled. Verice leaned back in his chair, his face stoic, but with crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Warna felt the fleeting tingle of having pleased her audience, and joy welled up inside. She posed like a saucy maid, and continued:

  “Then came the day, a lad rode in

  with kind and smiling eyes

  Fair, and tall and dark and strong,

  he clearly was her prize.”

  The lad I’ll love is tall and dark

  so sweetly sang, did she.

  So, hie thee hither and get thee here,

  thou art the lad for me.”

  She paused then, waited for their attention, and when she had it, spoke. “And then he sang,”

  “Hie thee hither and get thee hence,

  art not the lass for me.

  Hie thee hither and get thee hence,

  art not the lass for me.

  The lass I’ll love is sweet and kind

  and gentle as can be.

  So, hie thee hither and get thee hence,

  art not the lass for me.”

  Kalynn and Wolfe laughed and clapped, exclaiming their pleasure. Warna smiled, and curtseyed, risking a glance at Verice.

  He was looking at her, his face still set in that bland, neutral look. But there was sparkle in his eye, and the shadows were gone. Warna reached for her mug and sipped her kav, satisfied.

  “A sprightly tune,” Charrin said. “A peasant’s song in nature, certainly not meant for this type of audience. More appropriate to a tavern, I should think. I would have made other word choices, but you carried the story well, and the ending is a pleasant, if obvious, one.” Charrin reached for the pitcher, and his mug.