Warily, like a man tiptoeing on the edge of a fiery pit, Volmar asked, “You haven’t been able to find the manuscript, I take it?”
“Curse the thing, no! You either, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Ambitious though he was, Volmar admitted to himself, he was not about to do anything as reckless as trying to hide a probably magical artifact from a sorceress—Particularly one who right now was ablaze with rage and frustration. “You’re sure the boy isn’t deliberately hiding it somewhere in the library.”
Carlotta shook her head. “He may have tried to do so at first, but he was quite definitely on the verge of panic while hunting for the thing when I entered as Charina. No ...” she added thoughtfully, “he has nothing to do with its disappearance. There is almost certainly a spell surrounding the manuscript.”
“A spell! I thought you could detect such things.”
“Oh, it’s a very subtle one if even my sorceries haven’t been able to sense it. And, since the manuscript seems to be designed to deliberately hide itself, even from me, it must be a very powerful spell indeed.”
Volmar fought down a new shudder. Bad enough to have a sorcerous ally; he understood Carlotta and the dangers she represented after all these years. Or at least he hoped he did. But the thought that there might be some new, unknown, alien magic lurking in his castle as well, magic even Carlotta couldn’t identify, Just waiting to strike ...
“What about the boy?” That came out more sharply than he’d intended; he was struggling to keep his voice from shaking—”You told me he has the rudiments of Bardic Magic about him. Could he have somehow—”
“The rudiments. It’s a nuisance that it should have begun waking now, but the boy hasn’t yet mastered even the least Powerful of magic songs.”
“He still might know more than he admits.”
“I doubt it.” Carlotta sighed impatiently. “I’ve seen more of him in the past two weeks than I ever want to see of anyone. Still, he is the only due we have to the manuscript.”
“But what if his magic does come to life?” Volmar stirred uneasily in his chair. “I don’t like the boy. He’s too ... too ...”
“Honest?” Carlotta’s voice was sly.
“Unpredictable,” the count countered. “I think we should be rid of him now, while we still can.”
“Not yet.” Her glance held a disconcerting hint of contempt. “Volmar, you always were a nervous sort. Let me try to explain this to you as dearly as I can: the boy is not a threat to us.”
“Not yet,” the count echoed darkly.
Carlotta’s eyes flashed. “Challenging my wisdom?” she asked, ever so softly. “Volmar, dear little Volmar, don’t try to cross me. I could destroy you, little man, with a glance.”
The count froze, all at once very much aware of how close Death could be. One wrong word ... “Why, Princess!” He forced the words from a mouth that suddenly seemed too dry for speech. “Have I ever been anything but your loyal ally?”
“To serve your own goals.”
“Well, yes, I won’t lie about that. But in doing so I serve yours as well, for both our sakes! Someday, my princess, you will wrest the throne from that fool—”
“ ‘That fool,’ as you so charmingly put it, is my brother.”
“Your half-brother only. Carlotta, we both know you aren’t bound by any misguided sisterly love. Someday you will take the throne—And when you do, my dear princess, I know you will remember your friends.”
“Friends.” Carlotta’s glance flicked over him. the contempt now only just barely hidden. But then she shrugged. “We shall watch the boy a bit longer. I will make one last effort to win him, body and mind. And if I still cannot subvert him to my side, I give you permission to rid us of him.” She paused. “Even as you did our poor, sweet Charina.”
Volmar waved that off. A girl hadn’t any business being up on the ramparts anyhow, not without even a guard for company, let alone doing something as foolish as leaning over the edge of the crenellations to watch birds fly by. It had almost been too easy to help her join that flight. However briefly. And not a soul could say it had been anything but an accident. “We shouldn’t wait,” the count insisted. “I have a feeling—”
“Come now! Leave prescience to me. We can’t be rid of him just yet. We still may need him to find the manuscript if we cannot.” She shuddered delicately. “ Even if it means I must once more take on the persona of that pretty little fool of a—No, wait ...” The princess straightened in her chair, eyes fierce. “That may not be necessary. The boy has a head full of wild romance. What if ...? Ha, yes, of course! I already laid the groundwork without realizing it when I told him I would go riding alone.”
“My princess, what are you talking about?”
“You’ll learn, soon enough. Yes, I do believe that I shall go riding alone again tomorrow.” Her smile was all at once so alien, so full of dark, sorcerous promise, that Volmar’s heart turned chill. “And then,” Carlotta added softly, “we ... shall see what we shall see.”
More than that, she would not say, leaving Count Volmar cold with nameless dread.
Chapter V
Kevin sat: on a wobbly pile of books, head in hands. He’d searched the library from end to end; the manuscript just wasn’t here!
No one could have taken it. Not even the count knew which manuscript I was copying!
Right. No one had taken the thing. The dust that covered much of the floor showed pretty clearly that, save for that one brief visit by Charina, no one other than he had even been in the library recently: her neat footprints were in a direct line in and out of the room, his were all over the place, but had a distinctive cleft in one sole. If anyone else had entered, they’d done so in mid-air.
This was insane! Nobody around here could fly—but manuscripts didn’t up and vanish all by themselves!
I should have gone riding with Charina, Kevin thought in misery.
He had passed her in the hall—or, rather, she had passed him, on her way for another solitary ride, sweeping regally by with her head in the air as if he hadn’t even existed. Kevin winced, wondering if she would ever even speak to him again. He had been right, of course, painful though it was; he was here to do a job, not enjoy himself with a beautiful young woman—
A job he couldn’t do because the cursed manuscript was gone!
A sudden frantic pounding on the library door brought Kevin to his feet in alarm.
“Bardling!” a voice shouted. “Count Volmar wishes to see you!”
The count! The bardling stiffened in sudden panic. Why did Count Volmar want to see him now? Was it something about the manuscript—or about Charina? Kevin hastily smoothed his hair with his hands and brushed the dust off himself as best he could, wishing he had time to make himself more presentable, then hurried out of the library.
His first impression was of an anthill someone had kicked. The usually quiet corridors were packed with people rushing back and forth, panic in their eyes and voices.
“What is it?” he asked. “Are—are we under attack?”
“No, no.” The servant who’d knocked on the door was in a frenzy of impatience. “No time to talk, bardling. Hurry!”
Kevin had expected Count Volmar to be holding court in the Great Hall, as was usual for the lord of a castle. Instead, to the bardling’s surprise, he was rushed up to the count’s private solar and practically shoved inside. A tall, lean, richly dressed man who could only be Count Volmar was pacing restlessly back and forth.
He stopped short as Kevin entered, staring at the bardling with frantic eyes. “Good, good, you’re here. Bardling, I know you and my niece have become friends. No, no, don’t look so guilty! I know you haven’t done anything dishonorable.”
The count resumed his nervous pacing. “It’s Charina.” The words were choked out. “She’s gone.”
“Gone! What—how—”
“Charina went riding this morning,” Count Volmar said softly, “with only her groom to pro
tect her. I—I never should have let her go, but ...” He held up a helpless hand—”Charina can be so very persuasive. And I never really believed she could come to any harm, never! Not on my lands!”
“My lord, please!” Kevin cried. “What happened?”
“Her horse returned without her, its coat all sweaty with fright. I thought there had been an accident, that Charina had been thrown and the groom was staying with her. But when I sent men out to hunt for my niece, they returned white-faced and trembling. They had found the groom, all right. Dead. Killed by sorcery—elvish sorcery.” The count shuddered. “There was no sign at all of Charina.”
“Elvish?” Kevin protested, remembering the elves who’d appeared to him back in the forest. He never doubted those so-superior beings could have been capable of great cruelty if the fancy moved them. But surely they never would have committed murder! They were alien, not evil! “Are you sure? I mean, why would elves—”
“Don’t you know anything?” Count Volmar snapped. “Don’t you have the slightest idea of what the world is like out there? Bardlings! All wound up in your music—Did you think that everyone in the land is loyal to the King?”
“I... suppose not. But—”
“There are rebel elves throughout the king’s realm —yes, and not just White Elves, either! At least those have a code of honor, even if a man can’t understand it. But there are others far worse!”
“Dark Elves, you mean?” Kevin wanted desperately to show he knew something about the world.
“Of course Dark Elves! Necromancers, the lot of them!” The count shook his head in disgust. “Should have been exterminated years ago!”
“I don’t understand? I always thought the elf-folk, even the—the Dark Elves, kept pretty much to themselves. Why would they—”
“They aren’t human!” the count exploded. “These are Others; who can comprehend anything they do? They hate humans, bardling, every one of them, particularly any who try to rule ‘their’ country. And they have Powers we can’t hope to understand. The Dark Elves, with their foul, foul sorceries ...” He shuddered. “Yes, and even the White Elves wield magic strong enough to twist human minds! They can turn child against parent, friend against friend—They can even destroy a human mind and soul, leaving nothing behind but an empty shell to be filled with whatever they will,” Volmar broke out abruptly, turning sharply away. After a moment, he muttered, “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to shout at you, bardling. It’s simply that I—I am so very worried about Charina .... “
“They wouldn’t dare harm her!” Kevin said inanely.
“You think not? Look you, at first I hoped she had simply been kidnapped. But there have been no ransom demands, no messages at all! I fear they hate humans so much they’re not going to even try to get anything from me. No, ah no, they’ll hurt her just because she is who she is!”
“They can’t!” Kevin cried in anguish—”I—uh, we won’t let them!”
The count let out a long, shuddering sigh. “No,” he said, “we won’t Bardling.,—Kevin, is it? Kevin, I plan to mount several expeditions to find her. And I want you to lead one.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You and Charina became such good friends in so short a time that there must be some psychic link between you. And that will certainly help you use Bardic Magic to find her.”
Somehow Kevin forgot that what magic he happened to possess was only now starting to wake, its range still unknown. “I’ll do it!” he cried, “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow.” The count smiled faintly. “Thank you, Kevin. I’m sure a talented young man like yourself will succeed where knights, with all their brainless heroics, would only fail.”
A small part of Kevin’s mind wasn’t so sure of that. What, he, an untrained bardling, succeed over battle-proven warriors? But he didn’t dare let himself start to doubt, for Charina’s lovely sake. “Your niece will be safely returned to you, Count Volmar,” the bardling said somberly, and bowed his most courtly bow.
That night, Kevin slept not at all. His mind kept insisting on conjuring dreadful images of Charina in her captors’ hands. He couldn’t shake the count’s dark words: “They can destroy a human mind and soul!” The thought of Charina left so hopelessly ... empty bit at his soul. “No! I won’t let that happen to you! I’ll save you, I swear it!” Or die trying ...
He wanted to shout it, but such hysteria would only bring the casde folk rushing around him, wanting to know why he was making so much noise. So Kevin lay still, aching with impatience, and waited as the slow, slow hours passed.
As soon as the sun was just barely lightening the sky, he was down in the courtyard, so wild with excitement he couldn’t stand still, eager to meet his fellow searchers and get going. His lute was slung across his back, since no Bard could work Bardic Magic without the aid of an instrument, and the few pages he’d managed to copy from the missing manuscript were safely tucked into the case as well. But now a mail shirt burdened Kevin’s shoulders with unaccustomed weight—though fortunately it was dwarven work, lighter than human-made armor—and a sword from the casde armory hung at his side. Kevin closed his hand about the hilt, trying to feel like a seasoned warrior but guiltily remembering his Master’s warning: a musician must always be careful of his hands.
I will, he promised the old Bard silently. But ... well ...this is something that I must do.
Odd. He had expected the courtyard to be full of knights and squires preparing to set out on their own rescue missions. Yet there didn’t seem to be anyone around but himself. Suddenly panicky, Kevin wondered if, early though the morning was, he was already too late. Had everyone left without him?
No. That was ridiculous. Even the boldest knight wasn’t going to try riding down the castle’s steep hill in the dark. Evidently the count meant to send the different parries out at different times during the day. His must be the first-And that had to mean the count truly trusted him!
Yes, but where were his—
“You?” the bardling said in dismay. “You’re my troop?”
“You?” a throaty voice echoed in wry humor. “You’re our leader?”
The woman who’d spoken was tall and rangy, a hunter and warrior, quiver on her back, sword at her side. Her short, curly black hair was held back from her face by a leather thong, and her dark eyes were the most devilish Kevin had ever seen. Her olive skin was deeply tanned—and a good deal of that skin was revealed, because her leather armor and breeches didn’t seem to be hiding very much of her lithe form. Kevin realized how (and where) he was staring, and reddened. The woman only laughed.
“Never mind, boy. Nothing to be ashamed of; not you, not me.” She held out a rough hand for him to shake; for all her undeniably feminine shape, there was nothing fragile about her grip. “I’m Lydianalanthis, but let’s make things easier on you: Call me Lydia.”
“I’m Kevin.” He added with reluctant honesty, “A bardling.”
“A bardling, huh? Count couldn’t afford a full Bard?” She grinned at his look of dismay, teeth dazzlingly white against her skin. “Don’t look so hot and heavy, boy! I’m only teasing.”
“I knew that,” he muttered.
“He is paying you, isn’t he?” Lydia asked with a note of genuine concern in her voice. “I mean, a kid like you —he isn’t trying to cheat you?”
The bardling straightened indignantly. Yes, the count had given him a purse of coins, but it had been for traveling expenses, not payment! “I’m not a—a kid! Or a mercenary!”
Lydia shrugged. “In other words, he’s not paying you. Powers save me from idealistic youngsters!”
“The count’s niece is in terrible danger! How can you possibly be worried about money!”
“Because,” the woman drawled, “I’ve gotten into the habit of eating regularly. Can’t do that very well without coin in the purse.”
“You’re not one of Count Volmar’s subjects?”
“Powers, no! I’m subject to me, boy, not to any c
ount! I was making my way across the world—never did it before, that’s why!” she added before he could ask. “Anyhow, I got as far as this castle when I heard the news about the count’s niece and a reward for her safe return.”
“Oh.”
Lydia grinned again, but this time Kevin thought it looked more like a snarl than a smile. “Let’s set things straight from the start. Yes, I’m a mercenary. But don’t you look down your nose at me, boy! I earn my own way, give good value for service bought, honor my agreements, and sleep nice and sound at night. You find anything wrong with that, or with me, best get it out in the open now.”
“I don’t. And I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just that ... well, I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
She gave a bark of a laugh. “1 bet you haven’t! Look, Kevin, I’m not angry at you. It’s just I’ve seen too many men—and boys like you—try to take advantage of any woman who isn’t under some man’s protection. I’m lucky; my people believe in letting a girl grow up knowing how to defend herself. But I’ve traveled enough to know it sure as hell isn’t an easy world for most of my sex.”
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