A Necklace of Fallen Stars

by Beth Hilgartner

  The cart groaned to a halt in a sparsely populated corner of the square, and the players began assembling their stage. In no time at all, they were ready; the ragged curtain was opened and the play began.

  It was then that Malia lost interest in the odd girl, for she noticed that Alar had joined the crowd that was watching the play. She watched him, unblinking, and he watched the players with an intensity to rival hers.

  "She's good," Lani remarked, making Malia jump and scattering her few wits.

  "Who?" she asked blankly. Lani stared at her, then asked Malia why she was standing in the square if not to watch the play. Then Lani saw Alar and she understood Malia's intent face. "I might have known," she muttered, then added more clearly, "I meant the player girl, Malia. She's excellent."

  Malia nodded, turning her gaze absently toward the stage. Abruptly, she stiffened, for there, in an alluring costume of green silk, stood the girl. She didn't look one bit like a peasant up on the stage before the admiring eyes of the crowd. Malia looked back at Alar, and from the rapt expression in his eyes, she knew her worst fears were grounded. Nervously, she began twisting one ringlet in her fingers and waited, unable to concentrate on anything, for the end of the performance.

  During the applause, a boy began passing the cap among the enthusiasts. When he held it out to Alar, the young man dropped in a heavy gold gerrin. The lad nearly dropped the hat in his amazement, but he caught himself in time and bowed low.

  Alar smiled at him and inquired politely whether he might be allowed to speak with the girl who had played the princess, since he was quite impressed with her acting. The boy promised to send her out as soon as she had changed, and bowed again before continuing his rounds.

  Malia was close enough to overhear the interchange, and filled with the impetuousness of jealousy, she stopped the boy and dropped two golden gerrins into the cap.

  She smiled sweetly, and in her gentlest, most concerned tones, warned the boy that Alar was a rake and a knave and certainly his—sister was it?—shouldn't be allowed to speak to him alone. The boy replied soothingly that Tantia could fend for herself, then he bowed and left her.

  "So," said Alar, lazily approaching Malia, "I'm a rake and a knave?" Malia blushed. Fluttering her eyelashes and fidgeting with her fine white hands, she tried a few ineffectual denials before she burst into tears.

  "Again?" Alar remarked as he handed her his handkerchief.

  She wiped her eyes. "Oh, Alar," she breathed, clasping his handkerchief in both hands, as though it were a treasure beyond price. "I will cherish it always."

  He rolled his eyes. "Merciful God. You must have quite a hoard of them by now. But why—if I'm a rake and a knave?"

  "Oh," she began, flustered, "but you must know I don't feel that way about you!"

  "Then why—?" he began. Then he smiled wryly. "Jealousy, eh?"

  Malia wrung her hands. "It's just—well, players are so disreputablw..." she floundered. He laughed, a short hard bark, and inquired whether she meant that he was not. She nodded, smiling hopefully. It was then that they were interrupted. "I'm Tantia," the newcomer announced.

  Alar introduced himself and included Malia with bare civility while Tantia looked at the other girl quizzically. "Such a proper lady as yourself consorting with such a knave and rake?" she remarked.

  "And with a disreputable player?" jibed Alar.

  Malia drew back as though slapped, and a single tear slid touchingly down her cheek. "Oh, Alar, you are monstrously cruel." She sighed woefully.

  "That's good," said Tantia suddenly. "You have a nice feel for melancholy, Malia, and the single tear's a nice touch. Gives the impression of bravely borne suffering." Malia sobbed into her handkerchief and fled. Tantia watched her go, then turned to Alar. "That exit is a bit much. What did you want, anyway?"

  "You've probably heard I'm a rake and a knave," he said.

  "You flatter yourself. I don't believe I have heard of you," she replied. "But no doubt you've heard I'm a disreputable wanton. A nice pair, don't you think?"

  "But you're not—" he began indignantly.

  "No, you're right. Therefore, I am obviously not your type. Good day, sir."

  "But Tantia," he pleaded. "I—I'm not what you think me." She laughed and remarked that it was rare indeed that one was what others thought him. Then she turned away.

  "Don't go..."

  "Oh, but I must. Between the two of us, we've hurt Malia's feelings, and I fear I must go apologize to her. Poor Malia," she sighed. "She's much prettier and infinitely more wealthy than I. And besides, I glean she loves you. What more could one ask? Have a heart, Alar."

  "And leave you alone," he ended for her, bitterly.

  She smiled. "That's the spirit, but a bit less bitterness lest you make this farce seem high tragedy. Good afternoon."

  She strode off through the square, leaving Alar watching her, a good deal more fascinated than angry. Too often in the past, a girl had looked into his eyes and lost her heart there, but this feisty little minx had met him blow for blow—and won the round! He sighed, then a lazy smile crept into his eyes. This promised to be an interesting game.

  After she left Alar, Tantia went in search of the slightly silly, exceedingly lovelorn girl who had departed in tears. She asked the first person she met where the young lady might be found, and was directed to an enormous brick mansion that overlooked the village green. Completely unintimidated by such grandeur, she bounded up the steps and knocked loudly with the heavy bronze knocker. A starched and manicured servant opened the door and, looking down his nose, primly informed her that tradesmen were to call at the rear entrance.

  "Ah, but I'm not a tradesman," she said smoothly. "I'm a visitor for young mistress Malia." The butler flicked her with a disdainful glance before he replied stiffly that she was not of the quality with which the young mistress was accustomed to associate.

  Undaunted, Tantia responded that that was precisely the reason Malia would see her. The butler looked surprised, then haughtily asked her name. She told him, and no sooner was the word spoken than a familiar breathless voice echoed it. Malia pushed past the butler and cordially invited Tantia in.

  Tantia declined politely, saying it was too fine an afternoon, and wouldn't Malia prefer to walk on the green instead? Malia agreed happily, and hooking her arm through Tantia's, strolled off across the lawn with her. It took the butler several moments to collect himself enough to shut the door.

  "I'm afraid," Tantia began, "I owe you an apology. I hadn't meant to be cruel, it's just that I was angry at being called disreputable, and my sharp tongue always has needed curbing. I speak without thinking—and I'm very much a ham for a laugh. I hope you'll forgive me."

  Malia nodded. "I'd be a boor indeed to refuse such a kind apology, Tantia. And of course part of it was my fault. Please believe me when I say that I didn't really mean you're disreputable. I was so jealous that he was asking after you."

  "Do you love him?" asked Tantia, mildly curious.

  "Oh, yes," she began, her eyes widening. "I love him with a passion eternal, a love as enduring as the sky. I love him from the depths of my soul to the heights of my heart. A look or a kind word from him means more to me than feasts with cheesecake and lobsters (my favorites), and a smile, though that's rarer than hen's teeth, gives me more gladness than my ermine-lined cloak."

  "I see," said Tantia. "Why?"

  "Why what?" Malia asked, puzzled.

  "Why do you love him?"

  "Well, he's dreadfully handsome, don't you think? And his eyes!"

  Tantia's tone was wry as she remarked, "He has two of them—or was there one I missed?"

  "Besides," Malia continued, taking no notice of her companion's comment, "he's wonderfully noble and gallant." She paused to see how her speech was affecting Tantia. The player girl looked thoughtful, then inquired how Alar had acquired such a reputation as a ne'er-do- well. "Or did you invent that just to frighten me?" she added.

  Malia fidgeted unc
omfortably. "No. I mean people do say he's a mischief maker, but, well, you know how it is—maliciousness! Slander's always aimed at the least deserving; people are jealous by nature. And the reason he doesn't work is that his mind and energies are always trained upon helping those in distress." Tantia remarked that he sounded exactly like a garden-variety knight.

  "That's precisely it," Malia said triumphantly. Then suddenly her face clouded with anguish. "Oh, but now you'll be in love with him too."

  "Me?" Tantia exclaimed, horrified. "Heavens no! I want nothing to do with the fellow. He may or may not be a knave, but he certainly has a good conceit of himself—too much for my tastes. What he needs is a good large portion of humble pie."

  "Then, if you don't love him, will you help me?" she began. "Oh please, Tantia! Help me win his heart!" Tantia hesitated; Malia begged and pleaded; and at last the player agreed to try, though she wasn't sure exactly what she could do. Malia thanked her profusely and flung her arms about Tantia's neck, liberally dousing her cheeks with damp kisses. Tantia finally managed to disentangle herself and, motioning Malia to silence, began to outline her plan.

  "First of all," she began definitely, "you must toss the butterfly act." Malia looked puzzled, and Tantia, apologizing for her lapse into player's cant, explained she meant that Malia must try to behave in a more down-to-earth fashion, that she must stop fluttering her eyelashes and cooing and sighing and wringing her hands. "Those mannerisms are positively dated. No one does any of that these days," she ended, earnestly.

  "But how am I to stop?" Malia wailed, wringing her hands. "How does one unlearn the things one's been doing since childhood?"

  "You're wringing your hands again," Tantia observed.

  Malia stopped herself abruptly, then said ruefully, "You see how ingrained it is?"

  Tantia nodded. "I guess that isn't the answer." After a moment's thought, she invited Malia to have dinner with the troupe, if her parents wouldn't mind, and assured her that by then, with luck, she'd have thought up an alternate plan. Malia accepted gratefully, confiding that her parents would let her do anything she wished. Thanking the player girl yet again, she said confidently, "With your wits and my beauty, we're sure to succeed." Then she set off homeward across the trimmed green.

  Tantia watched her disappear; then she too headed off across the green in the other direction. She had not gone far when she met Alar. He greeted her with a charming smile and asked her where she was bound. She replied, with a cheerfulness to equal his charm, that she was going home.

  "Back to the cart?" he asked. "Why, that's just the way I'm headed." He altered his course to match hers.

  "Unsubtle," she said seriously. "You ought to have slapped your forehead and said, 'That reminds me: I've an errand at the limners shop on the corner there. Do you mind if I accompany you?'"

  "And leave you to refuse the honor?" he asked lightly.

  "Oh, but I wouldn't," she replied in the same tone. "I may be cheeky, but I'm rarely blatantly rude."

  "I'll remember that," he remarked.

  "Your sarcasm is a bit too pointed," she told him in mock earnestness. "Try mellowing it with a smile."

  He changed tactics. "Has anyone ever told you you're beautiful?"

  "Many," she replied archly. "Shall I add your name to the list?"

  " You might as well," he said casually. "Tell me, Tantia: are you always like this?"

  "Oh, no," she assured him. "You should see me when I'm really trying."

  "You're trying now—exceedingly!" he remarked.

  "Only because your patience is underdeveloped," she replied.

  They were almost to the cart, and Alar realized that his time was nearly spent. "Tantia," he began earnestly, all the teasing gone from his voice. "I know you've beaten me soundly this round, and you know the game's just started and you've not won yet. So I'd like to leave you something to think about." She raised her eyebrows.

  He caught her by the shoulders so suddenly that she was startled into immobility. Then he kissed her gently on the forehead. "You are unlike anyone I have ever met," he told her. "I think I love you, but I know I'm fascinated." Without waiting for her reply, he strode off across the square, leaving Tantia frozen in her steps and, for the first time in a very long while, utterly at a loss.

  Malia arrived for dinner in the last red glow of the sunset. She picked her way through the campsite, holding her skirts above the mud. Breathlessly, her eyes alight, she asked Tantia, who was stirring the stew, whether she'd thought of a plan. Tantia nodded, asked Malia to hand her a jar of spice and began.

  But before Tantia had gotten even one word out, Malia interrupted. "Oh Tantia!" she exploded in a most unladylike stage whisper. "Who's that?"

  Tantia followed her gesture. "Oh, that's my cousin, Erynn," she said disinterestedly. "He was the prince."

  "What prince?" she asked, unable to tear her gaze away from the tall, handsome actor.

  "Why, in the play, you flutter-brain!"

  "The play?" she asked blankly.

  Tantia threw up her hands. "Anyway, let me tell you about my plan for Alar."

  "Who?"

  Tantia blinked hard, then shook her head as though to clear her ears. "Alar. The Alar. Your beloved."

  "Oh, that Alar," Malia said with effort. "Let's not talk of him now. I'd much rather meet your cousin." At Tantia's summons, Erynn trotted over. Tantia introduced them, and Erynn bowed over Malia's hand with a smile. He was a handsome young man, tall and dark haired. His face was finely chiseled and noble, but there was a quirk of mischief at the corners of his mouth. Malia was enchanted. She fluttered and cooed, and made small talk until Tantia announced that the stew was ready.

  Supper soon was over, and after Malia had gone home, Erynn and Tantia washed the dishes.

  "I say, Tant," he said as he scoured the stew pot, "wherever did you find her? She's pretty enough, for sure, but awfully flighty. I thought she'd blow me away with the wind from her batting eyelashes. She didn't strike me as your type."

  "She isn't," Tantia told him. "I am supposed to help her win the heart of her beloved. But it seems she's exchanged the object of her passions, dear cousin, for you."

  Erynn laughed. "Well, tell her she must have an enormous dowry, must stop fluttering so, and must have a love of travel and theater."

  "I'm sure she'll start improving herself right away," Tantia said dryly. "But beware of her lifelong devotions. Her last was as enduring as the sky."

  "And twice as changeable," he laughed. "Look at those clouds. It will rain tomorrow, I'll wager."

  But Erynn was wrong. The next morning dawned clear, and the troupe decided to make use of the lucky weather with another performance. Since the show wouldn't begin until afternoon, Tantia had the morning free, and she decided to spend it exploring the parts of town she had not yet seen. She had not gone far when Alar found her.

  "So we meet again," he hailed her cheerfully.

  "Have we met?" she asked blandly.

  "Definitely not up to your usual standard. Did you have a bad night?" he asked sympathetically.

  "Oh, dreadful," she said blithely. "My dreams were troubled by rogues and cutthroats, all with golden hair and big blue eyes."

  "So I've found my way into your dreams, have I?" he asked, pleased. Tantia felt herself blushing under his faintly mocking gaze. He smiled. "That's a step in the right direction. But please, Tantia, do me the favor of allowing me to buy you something cool to drink—you look a trifle flushed. It must be the heat. There's a charming little inn..." he gestured.

  She assented, and together they went inside and sat down.

  "So, Alar," she began, vowing silently not to let him best her again, "do tell me about yourself, how you've managed to accumulate such an alarming reputation—all unwittingly, of course."

  "Of course," he said, mimicking the irony in her voice. "Well, in a small town like this, people assume that either you must work for your living or live on inherited wealth like Malia's family. If y
ou do neither, it is assumed that your gains are ill gotten."

  "Oh. Aren't they?" she inquired sweetly.

  "No," Alar replied. "The funniest thing about this is that the most far fetched of the rumors about me happens to be the truth."

  "You're a dragon in disguise!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "How exciting."

  "No, but you're close. I'm the prince of Cymyl in disguise."

  She laughed. "And I'm the daughter of the evening star. Sir, you're a lunatic and I'll have no more to do with you."

  "Well," he replied petulantly, "I like that for gratitude—the first person I share my secret with! But even if you won't have me, my proud beauty, there's always Malia"

  Tantia played her trump. "I think not," she said mildly. "Good day, Alar. My thanks for the drink."

  It was not until the play that Alar discovered what Tantia's parting shot meant. He saw Malia in the audience and approached her. She did not turn her head at the sound of his footsteps, so intent was she on the ragged-curtained stage. Alar greeted her warmly. She replied absently without turning, adding sweetly, "Do you know? In this play, Erynn is a minstrel and Tantia is a shepherdess."

  "Erynn?" he asked, puzzled. She regarded him as though he'd suddenly grown a third eye. "Erynn played the prince yesterday," she informed him loftily, then turned back to watching the curtain.

  Alar stared at her in amazement and then began to laugh silently, finally understanding Tantia's comment. Then he settled himself to wait for the play to begin.

  The play was lively, and after the happy ending, the many curtain calls and the passing of the hat, Alar decided to seek out Tantia. He found himself accompanied by Malia, who was looking for her idol. Alar, not used to being politely ignored instead of fawned over, was unsure what to make of the situation. True, it was a refreshing change, but at the same time, it was a bit of an insult. He sighed.

  "Hey," said Erynn to Tantia as they stood in the wagon's shadow, "here comes your friend Malia, and that blond fellow I saw you with earlier." He turned to face his cousin. "Is there anything in that? Do you like him?"