"Ho, ho," Tararat sneered. "And he can talk and read and figure, I suppose?"
Muffum, taken aback, assured Tararat that he could, adding, "He wouldn't be much of a tutor if he couldn't."
"Next you'll tell me that you have a harpy to keep house for you."
Muffum, by now genuinely puzzled, replied quite earnestly, "No, sir. I have a dragon. Her name is Sara. No one keeps harpies; they are much too mean."
Professor Tararat was furious, and he cried out in a loud voice that he was a traveler and a learned man; he would not be mocked by a ragged beggar lad's tales, and would Muffum kindly come with him at once. The boy, still trying valiantly to be polite, excused himself, saying that Sara needed the mint for her laundry and perhaps another time.
The professor flew into a rage. He grabbed the boy by the wrist and dragged him across the meadow. Try as he did, Muffum could not break free, for the man's be-jeweled, pudgy fingers had a surprisingly strong grip.
"Let me go!" he shrieked. "Snuggles, Sara, help!" But no help came, and before he knew it, Muffum was a prisoner in the professor's stuffy, cluttered workroom.
The workroom was an amazing place. On one wall were shelves full of row upon row of small, earthenware jars, each labeled carefully in flowing script with such descriptions as: "Toad's Eyes—for certain curses"; and "Nightingale Song—keep tightly closed until use." On the opposite wall there was a bookcase full of leather-bound books with titles in gold on the spines. A huge desk was pushed up against the third wall, next to a leaded-glass window; the desk was heaped with open books and scraps of parchment. A black quill in a pen stand and a silver inkwell perched precariously on the peak of the tallest mound. The fourth wall was occupied by a huge fireplace, with an enormous crown of elk antlers hung above the mantelpiece.
Before Muffum had the opportunity to carefully examine much of his surroundings, Tararat made him stand on the slates near the fireplace and with a piece of red chalk, he swiftly drew a pentagram around the boy. Then he loosened his grip on Muffum, went to the desk, and stood there, shuffling through his notes, with his back to the boy. Muffum's first thought was of escaping through the door the professor had carelessly left ajar. Moving very slowly and quietly, he edged along. Suddenly he could go no farther, for he had run into something that felt like a glass wall, except that it was warm to the touch. He glanced down at his feet and found that his foot was almost touching the red chalk line. He tried to step over it and stubbed his toes against the invisible wall. Frantically, but quietly, he tried each of the other directions, with no luck. Finally, overwhelmed by frustration and fear, he sat down in the center of his cage and rested his head in his hands.
The professor turned around, and with a ghastly smirk on his full lips, informed the boy that there was no way out, and that it wouldn't hurt much. Muffum asked him suspiciously what wouldn't hurt. With an evil laugh, Professor Tararat revealed his plan. When Muffum asked staunchly whether he would be the first to be turned into a golden statue, the wizard laughed. "No, no! You are the essential ingredient. See?" he waved a parchment. "'Bottled palindrome.'"
"Bottled what?" Muffum demanded, and Professor Tararat explained that a palindrome was something that read the same way both forward and backward. Sourly, Muffum asked if Tararat had a bottle big enough to put him in. The wizard sniffed disdainfully. "You know nothing of magic, I see. I don't need all of you—bones and all those nasty things! No, I just need an extract. For example, in this spell, I will use your blood—all of it." Muffum gulped and Professor Tararat talked heartily about the little sacrifices one must make to further the cause of learning.
"Oh, well," said Muffum crossly, "it's fine for you to be talking of little sacrifices, but you'd be singing quite a different tune, I'll warrant, if it were you cooped up in this cage. So if it's all the same to you, I hope your spell doesn't work—or better yet, that it turns you into a gold statue as well."
Tararat turned pale at the thought, but he managed to compose himself by deciding that his captive had a nasty, spiteful character, and said, "I'm off to collect my last ingredient—cowslip petals—so don't go away." Then he laughed, while Muffum gritted his teeth and listened to the wizard's retreating footsteps. Muffum tried hard to be brave, but an occasional tear escaped him. Suddenly, a familiar voice broke the quiet.
"Oh dear. You seem to be in a bit of trouble," Snuggles said, appearing almost magically on the cold hearth. He was coated with soot from his climb down the chimney. "Typical," he added. Muffum protested that it wasn't his fault and the cat agreed, then continued, "But now, it's up to me to get you out." Snuggles stalked about the sides of the pentagram, muttering to himself. Then he stopped at one corner, and with a satisfied smirk, began to lick one of his forepaws. "I had hoped," he told the boy between licks, "that he was in too great a hurry to be careful. And here is a gap." Then, he extended his damp paw and wiped away at the red line. When the opening was wide enough, he said, "Let's get out of here."
Muffum did not need to be told twice. A moment later, the two were threading their way hurriedly to the top of the narrow, crooked stairs. Some of the boards were loose or rotten. Cat and boy slowed their furious pace and began to descend carefully. Then, Muffum heard the front door slam, and knew, with a sick feeling in his stomach, that the professor had returned.
"Keep going," Snuggles hissed. "If he thinks you're hiding in his house, he'll set a sealing spell about it and starve you out." When Muffum still hesitated, the cat said, more gently, "Trust me, boy. I got you out of the pentagram, remember."
"I haven't much choice," Muffum said to himself, then rounded a turn on the staircase and came face to face with the professor. Tararat uttered an exclamation, then demanded to know how Muffum had gotten out. The boy got no further than the words, "My cat—" before Tararat interrupted, wondering aloud where he had gone wrong in his spell.
"You left a gap," Snuggles answered him coldly, "at the southward corner."
"Ridiculous!" the wizard snapped. "A gap can only be widened from without—what did you say about your cat, boy?" the professor demanded, suddenly going pale. Muffum explained that Snuggles had let him out after coming down the chimney. Professor Tararat bleated that it was not possible, that he had performed the sealing spell himself. At that, Snuggles sprang onto Muffum's shoulder. "I have the soot on my coat to prove it," he said smugly. "You did a careless job, perhaps?"
The professor's jaw dropped and he turned an even paler color, tinged faintly with green. "No, no," he protested feebly. "It's one of my best spells. I—I—what shall I do?" He began to tremble most violently.
"Well," the cat began quietly, an unholy glee in his eyes, "if you'll just step outside with me, we can settle the matter with a duel—to the death, naturally; I've always liked the neatness of it. Or you could pack your baggage and be off. Though naturally I am itching for revenge, either course will suit me so long as your inept spells go with you."
The wizard was sweating profusely. "I'll be gone by morning," he promised.
"Yes, indeed," Snuggles purred menacingly. "Though if you wish to leave Kriat with a whole skin, I recommend you do so before the sun sets. I hunt at night, you know." Professor Tararat blathered on, thanking Snuggles for his generous warning until the cat cut him short, remarking that chatter made him hungry. Then, with a meaningful look in Muffum's direction, he leapt to the floor and led the way out. Tararat stood aside and let them pass. Soon, the boy and the cat were outside in the sunlight, heading for their home. They both turned back just in time to see Professor Tararat running toward the far edge of town, wearing his hat and cloak, but carrying not even the smallest of bags. Snuggles and Muffum laughed.
"You really frightened him, Snuggles," he said. "Why, he must have thought you were a sorcerer-king or something!" A sudden thought struck the boy and he hesitated in midstride. "Come to think of it, Snuggles, just how did you know how to frighten him? You aren't really a sorcerer-king, are you?
"No, no!" he added hast
ily. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know."
***
"Well," said Kippen laughing, "is Snuggles really a sorcerer-king, or is he just a cat? It's hardly fair to keep us guessing."
"Isn't it?" Kaela countered. "There is a tale in that one answer, Kippen, for if Snuggles is a sorcerer-king, how did he become one, and if he is not, then how did he do what he did? What do you think, Flen?"
Flen smiled. "I think he's just a cat—if you can call a talking cat just a cat—because cats always look as if they knew everything."
"Well," said Polan, I think Snuggles is really a sorcerer-king in exile, and that Muffum is his son and—" he blushed. "Anyway," he mumbled, "I don't want to know either, because it's more fun guessing."
Hali smiled at them all. "And I think it's time to have some pie. Kaela, storytelling is hungry work, so you must have the first piece. Now, who else would like some?"
It was late when they had all finished and the boys were sent off to bed. Kaela offered to help with the dishes but Hali would not hear of it. Instead she fetched blankets and pillows for the two travelers and bade them settle down by the fire.
"For you've a journey to continue in the morning," she said briskly, "and you must get your sleep. I shall leave the washing up until after the sun has risen. Good night and sleep well." And with that, she blew out the lamps and disappeared up the stairs.
Chapter Four
After Melina left her father and the lords in the east parlor, she was very shaken and afraid. She had seen a side of her father she had never seen before. This cruel, ruthless man, his pride wounded and his anger unleashed, was a stranger to her. He had been a hard man, an unhappy one, and he had been full of anger and resentment toward Kaela, but Melina refused to believe that he hated his youngest daughter enough to revenge himself on her thus.
Melina opened the door to her rooms and slipped in, shutting it behind her. The sitting room was bright, all the candles lit, and the princess saw that her tapestry, which she had neglectfully left in the solarium, was carefully arranged near the blue plush sofa.
Bless Nansa, Melina thought. And as if the thought had summoned her, the maid appeared.
"Oh, my lady," she said, smiling, "there you are. Would you like some tea, perhaps? Eve set a pot on the hearth."
Nansa was a pretty woman, small and plump, with copper brown curls and hazel eyes. When she smiled, her cheeks dimpled with mischief. Though she was many years older than Melina, the princess had often felt they could be friends if only Nansa weren't in such awe of her.
Melina sat down. "I should like that, Nansa, if it isn't too much trouble."
"Trouble?" The maid smiled as she handed her mistress a steaming mug.
Melina cupped her hands about the mug for warmth and found she was shaking. Without a word, Nansa fetched Melina's shawl and settled it about her shoulders. That kindness was too much for her resolve, and Melina suddenly began to weep, hard, wrenching sobs, as though she had not a thing to live for.
Nansa knelt down beside her, smoothing her hair, letting her cry. At last, Melina stopped, wiped her eyes and blew her nose on the handkerchief Nansa gave her.
"Oh, Nansa, it's so awful," she said softly. "Poor Kaela."
"There, now," Nansa soothed. "She'll get clean away. She's a quick one, don't fear."
"I'm so afraid. Father said he'll charge her with high treason and—and—" she choked.
"I know, I know. Raslar told me, and he had it from Takvar, your father's manservant, who heard through the door. Why, it's cruel, the King taking up with such a one as that loathsome Stafgrym. But you needn't fear, lovey, he'll never get you."
"Stafgrym get me?" demanded Melina. "What are you talking about?"
"I thought you knew, Lady Princess," Nansa quavered.
"No," said Melina. "You had better tell me now, Nansa."
Finally, Melina got the sense of things from Nansa's garbled report. Fortunately, she was many times more angry than frightened, for the anger had a calming effect upon her.
"Well," she said at last. Her eyes were calm, her voice controlled and her posture regal as she sat on the divan, regarding the maid. "We shall have to see that Stafgrym does not succeed."
"But—but," Nansa stammered. "He's a heathen wizard! He has power. He'll roast me alive!"
"He'll be gone by morning—he won't let Kaela get much of a start on him," Melina pointed out, gently. "Please, Nansa, you must help me."
"But I'm so afraid, Lady Princess. He'll be back; and with his heathen-wizard ways, he'll know it's me what's helped you."
Melina shook her head. "I think not, Nansa. And I need to know what is afoot—the news and rumors—for no one will tell me anything. Remember, Nansa, if Stafgrym succeeds, he will marry me. Now, please, could you run along to Raslar and find out who the soldiers going with Stafgrym are to be. With any luck at all, it'll be one of the old captains' companies—they're all friends to Kaela—and while you're gone. I'll write a letter. Now, go—and pray it's Mergan, Harsat or Levytal!"
Nansa ran, leaving Melina to draft a letter, short but to the point, containing the news of Kaela's punishment and her own if the wayward princess should be brought back to Relsa, and a word of warning about Stafgrym and his magic crystal. She had just finished when Nansa reappeared.
"Are you finished, lady?" Nansa panted. "Give me the letter. It's Mergan, and they're about to depart. I've warned him that I've a letter from your hand, and I shall say it's to my sister in Achra—that's where the tavern is—if anyone's about."
"Excellent!" Melina exclaimed, giving the servant the letter. "You're a treasure, Nansa."
Nansa was back in a short time, mischief dimpling her cheeks. "'Tis all done, lady, and with nary a catch to it. Captain Mergan was alone when I gave it to him. He read it, swift-like, and frowned fierce. Then he looked down at me and said, 'Tell Princess Melina that I will do my best. Tell her that I think I can make the men suspicious of Stafgrym's magic—and there are more of us than him.' So now, my lady, you must go to bed. 'Twill do no one any good if you tire yourself to death with worry. Things'll look better in the morning, I'd wager." Though Melina obediently got ready for bed, she privately thought she would never be able to sleep. She was wrong. She lay back on the pillows as Nansa tucked the down quilt up under her chin and was asleep before the maid blew the candles out.
In the morning, Melina woke refreshed and calm, confident of being able to handle anything. To all appearances she seemed unconcerned as she went about the normal palace routine. She spent the morning with the weavers, ordering cloth for her new summer wardrobe. After the first black look the King had cast in the direction of Kaela's empty seat, the noon meal was quite uneventful. When it was finished, Melina and several other Court ladies adjourned to the solarium to work on their embroidery and to gossip. At first the talk was all of the coming balls and the handsome lords and knights newly come to Court. To Melina, it seemed too calm, almost strained, it was so ordinary after the events of the day before. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen.
"Well, well," Princess Tamera said mockingly from the door, "all so calm and peaceful. One wouldn't guess from looking at you, Melina, that you were the least bit concerned about Kaela."
Melina looked coldly at her younger sister. "Wringing my hands and wailing won't help Kaela. All I can do now is pray she escapes."
"Well," said Tamera almost triumphantly, "she won't. Master Stafgrym just returned. She wasn't on the barges. She hasn't escaped and she won't. She's on foot, her pursuers on horseback. If she goes by the Toll Road Pass, she will be captured, and she must know that, so that leaves Poor Man's Pass. All Stafgrym need do is to look into his crystal and then ride off and collect her. She hasn't a prayer, Melina." Then, looking smug, Tamera began to sing a fragment of a well-known ballad:
The wedding bells will ring
And all the people sing.
Dancing we'll go in the silvery moon
For our lady's t
o marry in June, in June!
Still singing, she flounced out of the solarium.
Melina sat stricken for an instant while Tamera's mocking song faded; then she too rose to go. "Good afternoon," she said quietly and left the room.
Though Melina appeared calm, she was furious with her sister and frightened by the news. There was, she knew, only one thing to do: she had to get the crystal away from Master Stafgrym. Of course it wouldn't stop him, but she hoped it would at least make things a little less easy for him. She was certain the wizard was careful of his talisman; she could not envision his leaving it about in his room where any of the servants might take it. She groaned silently. Chances were good that he would always carry it on his person, and much as she wanted it, Melina was no pickpocket. There must be a way, she thought angrily. Then, as she saw her father enter the hallway from one of the conference rooms, she pushed the matter away and smiled as he approached her.
"Ah, Melina," he said with forced joviality. "Just the one I wanted to see most." He took her by the arm and hurried her back along the corridor to the room he had just left.
Melina looked about the room and saw Master Stafgrym seated at a table near the fire. In his hand, the crystal globe gleamed balefully.
When Stafgrym saw her, he rose and solicitously helped her into a chair. "There," he said expressionlessly. "My little wife to be."
"Not yet, Master Stafgrym," said the King, coldly. "You must uphold your part of the bargain."
"Technicalities, Your Majesty, mere technicalities. All I need to do is to gaze into my crystal, then ride off and collect the errant Princess. Then Melina shall be mine."
"What are you talking about?" Melina demanded, deciding it was prudent to feign confusion. "What bargain?"
"I promised you to Master Stafgrym," said the King harshly, "as a reward when he captures Kaela."
She was not encouraged by the hardness in her father's eyes. Nevertheless, she played her role.
A Necklace of Fallen Stars Page 6