A Necklace of Fallen Stars

by Beth Hilgartner

  "I am not bluffing, Melina. I shall hold to my threat. If she has not returned within two days, I shall have her executed when they find her."

  "Coward," she hissed, then turned and fled from the room.

  Lord Talmot, who had been silent throughout, rose. He faced the King, his handsome face closed in a frown of disapproval. "I think you are unwise, Your Majesty, to threaten thus. Will you really be able to sign the order for your daughter's death?"

  "Yes."

  Lord Talmot raised one eyebrow in an unspoken query. "Then," he said at last, "I must join Princess Melina in hoping young Kaela is well out of your reach." He bowed and left the chamber.

  Duke Gavrin followed Lord Talmot's retreating form with his gaze. When the door was safely shut behind him, the duke, too, rose.

  "Two days, Your Majesty? That is well. But see that you find her. If there is no wedding, there will be none of my soldiers for your army." Then he too bowed and departed.

  "For what my humble opinion is worth," said Master Stafgrym, when he was alone with the King, "I approve of your position. A strong king has no room for sentiment. Allow me, please, to help you find her."

  "And does your aid come as a gift?" the King asked wryly.

  Master Stafgrym looked horrified for an instant, and then controlled his face and chuckled hollowly. "What wit, Your Majesty. A gift! Ho-ho!" He sobered suddenly. "I will find your daughter—for a price."

  "What price?"

  "Your eldest daughter, Melina."

  "No," the King said shortly.

  "Alas," said the wizard, "you doubt my worth. Permit me to demonstrate. You have heard, no doubt, of my talisman?" he asked, as he reached into the breast of his tunic and produced a small crystal globe.

  "And what, pray, does that do?" the King asked, trying to appear skeptical.

  "Watch," the wizard commanded. "And be silent."

  Stafgrym murmured words in a strange tongue, and the globe, cupped in his hands, began to shine from within as though filled with starlight. Then an image formed: Kaela in the Avenue of the Lady, talking to an old man. The scene shifted swiftly: the girl in a cart drawn by a pair of bay nags; the recently painted inn sign; a starlit road with two shadowed figures; a large tree with a sliver of moon caught in its branches. Then the globe went dark.

  The King was speechless with amazement.

  "Perhaps now," the wizard said, smug and confident, "you will think my aid worth your lovely daughter?"

  "I will give you a barony on Lake Aliam. A rich holding..."

  But Stafgrym shook his head. "I want Melina, and I will take nothing else. Do you truly believe you can find Kaela quickly without my help?"

  The King was silent.

  "My powers are great," Stafgrym went on. "If you anger me, I might, if I choose, confuse the trail so that you would never find her. Then your sworn word would be but empty sound; your authority would be undermined. For what wayward subject would fear a king whose youngest girl-child had defied him and escaped? Without my help, there will be rebellion and dissent in Visin. Do you really wish that all you have built with your life should be torn apart by your stubborn daughter, and your own reluctance to see me king after you? After all, you will be dead before I am king. And I give you my word, I will not let Visin crumble in my hands."

  "Very well," said the King, grimly. "You shall have Melina—and Visin after me—if you succeed in bringing Kaela back. If you do not, if she escapes you, if your spells and powers fail you, your life shall be forfeit. Those are the terms."

  The wizard did not hesitate. "I will bring Kaela to justice and wed Melina."

  "Done, then," said the King. "What assistance do you require?"

  "A company of men-at-arms, at least ten, and access to the Court Records. I may find the location of this 'Rose and Lion' there."

  The King nodded and rang for a servant.

  Well before daybreak, Master Stafgrym and twelve soldiers were riding furiously toward Achra. Their steeds were fresh, and they made good time.

  Chapter Three

  The sunlight stung Kaela's eyes and she woke, bewildered by the tree above her head, until she saw Kippen sleeping a short distance away and memories returned. After they had left the tavern, they had journeyed only as far as a good place to camp. They had made a frugal meal of Kaela's bread and fish and then had gone to sleep, barely speaking to each other.

  Kaela made good use of her opportunity to study her new companion. He was young, she judged, only a year or two older than herself, and his face was more beautiful than handsome. His eyelashes were long and dark and a pair of wing-shaped, black eyebrows vanished into the untidy blond hair that fell across his brow. As she watched him, liking the gentleness of his face, he opened his eyes and looked into Kaela's. His were the most amazing eyes she had ever seen, halfway between brown and amber, very large and deep, as though there were room in them for everything he saw. Suddenly, she felt shy of him, felt that his eyes could see too deeply inside her and read the secrets there. She pulled her gaze away and rummaged in her knapsack.

  "There's bread and cheese for breakfast," she told him, letting her hair fall about her face to hide the blush in her cheeks.

  "Cheese?" he asked eagerly, sitting up and stretching like a young lion.

  As they sat together on the damp grass, eating the bread and cheese, Kippen studied the girl, and though Kaela could feel his eyes, she could not meet them. When the silence grew uncomfortable, Kippen broke it.

  "Where are you bound?"

  "Cymyl."

  "Oh, indeed? I'm going there too. It's less than a full day's journey to the barges, you know."

  Kaela looked up. "I'm not going by barge; I'm going through the mountains."

  Kippen stared at her in amazement. "Why, for heaven's sake? The mountain route is much slower, and the roads will be atrocious this time of year."

  "I know." She hung her head. "I'm in trouble. The authorities will be watching the water routes."

  "Watching the water routes?" he exclaimed. "What on earth did you do? Kill someone?"

  Kaela turned away.

  "No—no—I'm sorry," Kippen stammered, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I shouldn't have asked. Please forgive me."

  She nodded, her back still to him.

  "Then if it must be mountains," he continued, "mountains it will be."

  Kaela snapped back to face him. "You're still going to come with me?" she asked, sounding far more eager than she'd intended. "Even though you know I'm a criminal?"

  Kippen shrugged. "There's nothing evil in your eyes. Whatever you did was justifiable, I'm sure." He turned his attention back to the bread and cheese, leaving Kaela staring at him.

  Kippen finished his meal and rose, extending his hand to Kaela to help her up. Still, she sat frozen, a look of puzzlement deep in her eyes.

  "Come," he said gently.

  She started as though shaking herself awake, then took Kippen's hand. As he pulled her to her feet, she met his eyes and they shared a smile.

  The road was quiet and empty at that early hour, and the two wayfarers' feet barely stirred the dust. There were rich meadows to either side, and the early sun caught in the dewdrops, making a cast of bright constellations in the grass. In the distance, some bird trilled cheerily.

  Kaela turned to Kippen. "I know so little about you," she said shyly. "Perhaps... Well, you are a minstrel, I know, but what is your instrument?"

  He smiled at her and in answer produced a wooden flute. He put it to his lips and sent the notes soaring like the voice of the bird.

  Kaela clapped her hands. "What a lovely tone," she exclaimed. "I've never heard better! Where did you learn to play?"

  "Well," Kippen began, "I am the youngest son of a woodworker in the south of Cymyl, and as a young boy, I was always into mischief and underfoot. So one day my father gave me a wooden flute he had fashioned, 'as punishment,' he told me darkly, but I was delighted. Little did I know how hard a master that simple flute w
ould become. I taught myself as much as I could; I used to sit for hours at a stretch on the hill by our house, playing to the wind. It was there that another minstrel came upon me. He was old—to my young eyes he seemed ancient, even older than my father!—and shabbily clothed, but he smiled at me and asked to see my flute, so I proudly gave it to him. He studied it, then reached into a fold of his weather-stained cloak and drew out his own flute. It was a beautiful thing, the instrument of a master, ebony, with ivory inlaid about the finger holes. He gave it to me and told me to play. It was—" he broke off, shaking his head. Then he smiled, but his eyes were far away, long ago, on the hill with the little boy and the master and the beautiful, beautiful instrument. "The stranger took me by the hand and asked me where I lived. Then he marched straight up to my father and said, 'I am Minstrel Elyngar. I would like to apprentice your son.' My father looked blank for an instant, then amazed, then joyful. 'My son, Lord Elyngar?' he asked breathlessly. 'Little Kippen?'

  "And so it was done. I was too young to know that Minstrel Elyngar was the most famed master in all of Cymyl. He took me to Court and gave me a flute—not, alas, the glorious ebony one. I was convinced Elyngar's flute was enchanted; nothing else could explain the beauty of his playing. If anyone ever neared perfection, it was he." Kippen sighed. "But I am rambling," he apologized. "And you, Kaela, wherever did you learn to tell tales?"

  She smiled, and there was an impish sparkle in her eyes. "It all began with the elaborate excuses I used to invent to satisfy my father when I was late for supper. No," she continued seriously. "For as long as I can remember, I've always been able to spin out a tale. It's just a gift."

  "And a rare one," Kippen said gently. "But look at the crossroads!" he exclaimed, pointing. "Isn't that a company of the King's guard? I wonder what —" he turned to Kaela but words died, for he was alone on the country road. "Kaela?" he whispered, puzzled. Then he saw that the clump of bushes growing out of the ditch was trembling with more than the gentle breeze. He did not stop to investigate, for the guards had turned up the road to Achra and were almost upon him.

  "You," the leader cried, reining in. "Boy!"

  Kippen bowed deferentially, though he had taken an instant dislike to the man, with his protuberant, pale eyes and his cold voice. Of the company, he was the only one who did not wear a military uniform. Kippen thought there was something sinister about his black cloak, blood red tunic, and the heavy gold ornament he wore about his neck.

  "Have you seen a girl, about sixteen, small, dark haired, gray eyed, last seen wearing a shortened skirt of gray wool, walking boots and a white linen blouse?"

  "I might have," Kippen replied shrewdly. "What's in it for me? What's she done?"

  In the bushes, Kaela's heart gave one sickening lurch and then seemed to stop altogether.

  "The girl in question is Princess Kaela, youngest daughter of the King," Stafgrym announced importantly. "And she hasn't done anything, if you mean some crime. Her father just wants her found and brought home before she comes to grief."

  Kippen smiled at the wizard, though he didn't believe a word of his tale. "And for me?"

  "Gold, if you tell the truth," the wizard said coldly.

  "Well, then," the minstrel replied, while Kaela fingered her dagger and tried to decide whom to attack first, "there's nothing but good in it all around. I met the young lady—or one resembling her—in Achra last evening at the Rose and Lion Inn. She said precious little about herself, but did say that she was on her way to Cymyl, by way of the barges. I gave her directions and she thanked me and set out. Said she'd walk until she was tired enough to sleep."

  Stafgrym's eyes narrowed and he stared searchingly at Kippen. "You lie," he growled at last. "I feel her presence; she is near." He reached into his robe and produced the small crystal globe, but before he could cup it in his hands and begin the incantation, Kippen crossed himself.

  "God save me!" he murmured, then turned to the captain. "Oh, sir! Don't let him magic me!"

  The captain spurred his horse forward, putting himself between Stafgrym and Kippen. "Master Stafgrym," he began sternly.

  Kaela's heart began to beat again, for she recognized the voice of her friend, Captain Mergan.

  "Give the lad his money and let us go. There is no cause to go frightening him. He's told you what he knows."

  "He's lying."

  "Oh?" asked Mergan mildly. "Are you such a sterling, honest character that you can tell? You want young Kaela to be here and your desire has blinded you to all else."

  "But I can prove he's lying," Stafgrym said, suddenly sounding rather like a spoiled child.

  "And perhaps you can. But I must warn you: soldiers and villagers are a superstitious lot. Use your powers if you dare, and risk a riot or a roasting. This is not Fytria, Master Stafgrym, as you yourself are so fond of pointing out."

  There were angry growls from the men, and Kippen crossed himself again. Stafgrym glowered fiercely at Mergan, but he put the crystal away.

  "Well," he said coldly, "you've won this round—but just whose side are you fighting for?"

  Mergan smiled. "I don't believe I am fighting; I'm just making certain we all come home with whole skins. Shall we go to the barges now?"

  "Surely you're not serious," the wizard snapped. "That was obviously just a bluff on Kaela's part."

  Captain Mergan patiently shook his head. "I don't know, Master Stafgrym. It seems to me that the canal is a perfectly likely place to look for the princess, since it is the quickest way out of Visin."

  "Is she that great a fool?" Master Stafgrym hissed.

  Captain Mergan scratched his head. "Perhaps, sir, she is bargaining on our thinking she wasn't fool enough to try. That seems a bit like Kaela's sort of humor. Anyway, it's worth a try. She can't have gotten too far unless she walked all night."

  "Very well, Mergan," said Master Stafgrym, deadly quiet. "We shall give it—as you say—a try. As for you," he glared terribly at Kippen as he placed his right hand on the gold ornament about his neck. "As for you, young vagabond, I swear by my power that if you've lied to me, I will have my revenge. And may the hand that brings you just retribution for your lie be swift and sure and cruel." With that, he struck his horse viciously with his riding crop and cantered down the road. The company of men-at-arms followed, but not before Captain Mergan had thrown Kippen a coin, and winked.

  Kippen watched them until they disappeared around a bend in the road. "You can come out now, Lady Kaela. They've gone."

  Kaela emerged from her hiding place, pale and trembling. She glared at Kippen. "I thought my heart had stopped," she said. "I was sitting in those bushes trying to decide which of you to kill, you or that Stafgrym. But none of this 'Lady Kaela' nonsense. Just 'Kaela' is more than enough. You know," she added quietly, "I never liked being a princess."

  Kippen nodded, troubled. "Who is that Stafgrym, Kaela?"

  Kaela shook her head. "I don't know. It was rumored at Court that Duke Gavrin had a Fytrian wizard in his pay. I've no way of knowing if this is he, though it wouldn't surprise me. He's a grim one, isn't he?"

  "He is that," Kippen agreed. "He frightens me. And somehow, I can't help but feel we've not seen the end of him."

  Kaela shivered. "I know; I'm so afraid. Why would my father set such a hound on my trail? Kippen," she said, suddenly urgent, "if you want to go your own way, if you don't want to become tangled in this web of my making, I'll understand."

  He smiled at her and shook his head. "Do you remember what the Captain in Achra said? I'll stay by you, Kaela. Together, we'll get through. But we should go. They might return, you know."

  Kaela glanced apprehensively over her shoulder and then, together, they set off, walking quickly.

  They walked all day, and by late afternoon they felt like old friends. Their earlier fear had faded in the bright sun and birdsong. Kippen was easygoing and cheerful, so that soon Kaela's unaccustomed shyness had melted away. Through the long, warm hours, they had exchanged tales of the
ir escapades and misadventures at the two Courts where they had grown up. Kippen had made Kaela laugh until tears came, with his imitation of Lord Grolsar, the immensely fat ambassador from the Visin Court. She in turn had delighted Kippen with the story of Lady Firili, the stern old maid who had been sent to govern the wayward princess, and of her immediate and amusing downfall. After barely a week, the woman had read her resignation letter to the assembled Council, ending by saying pompously, "In my long career, gentlemen, I have never before encountered in a daughter of the aristocracy behavior or manners even remotely resembling those of the Princess Kaela." She had then added confidentially, "Are you absolutely certain she's not a boy?" After the tales and laughter, they had found that silences no longer felt empty and awkward.

  "You know, Kaela," Kippen said, "I had no idea being a princess could be such a—well, an objectionable occupation. I guess I had never thought of princesses as having feelings."

  "Yes. We scuff our knees and burn our fingers and laugh and cry just like other girls."

  "Yes, well I knew they cried," he teased.

  She tossed her head indignantly.

  He laughed. "But really, Kaela, what I meant to ask—and if it's not my concern, say so—was what did you do to anger your father? Join with the revolutionaries?"

  Kaela laughed harshly. "No, nothing so simple as that. You see, I am very like my father, and he has never quite forgiven me for not being a boy—as though I'd done it on purpose! And then, too, my mother died birthing me, and he really did love her, I think. She must have been like Melina; she was the only one of us old enough to remember mother well. I sometimes think that when my mother died, the gentler side of my father died with her. Somehow, it's important for me to believe that father wasn't always cold and hard and calculating.

  "All the years when I was growing up, I used to wish I was a boy; I was so sure that would solve my problems. But now, I know better, for I would have been fussed over and schooled and groomed for the kingship." She smiled half ruefully. "And I daresay that would have been a sight more confining than the petticoats and corsets my father wants me to wear."