believe us and at least listen?'
The King nodded, slowly, and Talaysen took a chance and lowered the sword. Rolend sagged back against his desk, then made his way to the chair behind it, and collapsed into its embrace.
'L-listen to me, Uncle,' Sional said. 'I'm n-not a r-ruler. D-d-do you th-think for a m-minute that p-people w- would r-r-respect a m-man wh-who s-sounds l-like I d-d-do?' He laughed, a sound with no humor in it. 'N-not even a Ch-church m-mage c-could m-make p-people b-believe I'm anyth-thing other th-than a s-s-simpleton!'
'Well-' Rolend looked uncertain.
'I've b-b-been a b-beggar, a th-thief, a sh-shit-s-s-sweeper. Th-think those are g-g-good qu-qualific-c-cations f-f-for a K-King?'
'I-'
Rune was humming again; since Kestrel seemed to have the situation well in hand, stutter and all, Talaysen joined her. The King had stopped resisting the spell-now if they could just get it to take-
'B-but I've s-s-seen wh-what y-you've d-d-done. I've b-b-been one of th-the p-p-people. Th-they'd r-rather a g-g-good ruler th-than a fool. T-tomorrow m-morning, y-you and I c-c-can g-g-go stand on F-Father's d-d-damned b-balcony and I'll r-r-renounce th-the throne.' He took a deep breath. 'As I am. S-s-stutter and all. S-s-so p-p-people c-can s-see I'm n-n-not s-s-some g-g-gilded p-prince out of a b-b-b-ballad.'
The King was capitulating; Talaysen felt it. So did Sional. 'L-let me g-g-go g-get V-V-Victor,' he urged. 'We c- c-can all t-t-talk about it. Even Aunt Fe-Fe-Fe-'
'No-please,' Rolend said, closing his eyes and putting his hand to his head. 'Not your Aunt Felice. She'll raise half the palace, and then she'll take you off and have you married to one of her ladies-in-waiting before the sun rose. Go get Victor; he's in the Rose Room.' He looked each of the Bards in the eyes, in turn. 'You're right. We should talk. Perhaps-'
Talaysen saw hope dawning in the King's eyes slowly, and the relief of seeing the end of a burden in sight.
'-perhaps we can make this work-'
Talaysen watched from the steps of the balcony over the Audience Square, standing with the other servants from the King's retinue, with one arm around Rune and one at Gwyna's waist. Sional was doing very well, though he doubted that anyone else was under that impression. The abdication ceremony took three times as long as expected, because of Sional's stutter. Enough witnesses were found to swear that this was the lost Prince to have convinced most people-and one of Rolend's mages clinched it by casting a spell over the young man that proved that hair known to have been Sional's had been his. As he had promised, he never changed from his rough working-man's garments, and if anyone had any notions of a romantic hero, he managed to crush them all.
Surely before he was through, a good portion of the people watching-and criers had gone through the city at dawn to ensure that the square was full-were going to be convinced he was a halfwit.
But how long will Rolend believe that he's no danger? That was the one doubt that kept nagging at him. While they remained, all would be well-but the spell they'd worked would fade in time-and then what? How long could they hope to keep Sional safe? Despite his earlier assurances, it was not easy to fake a death; would they have time to set up Kestrel's demise convincingly enough?
There were few cheers as Sional completed the ceremony, swearing on the holiest relics that could be found that neither he nor any of his progeny would ever return to claim the throne from Rolend and his heirs. But as Rolend and the Priest in charge of the ceremony turned to lead the way off the balcony, he stopped those few cheers with an upraised hand.
This wasn't in the plan! What was the boy up to?
'I kn-know that th-there are s-still p-people who w-won't believe m-my sw-sworn w-word,' he said clearly, now looking down on the folk below, suddenly transformed from the bumpkin to something else entirely, despite the stutter. 'S-s-so I'm g-going to m-make c-certain that n-no one c-can ever use m-me or m-mine ag-gainst my uncle.'
He turned, ran down the stairs to the assembled servants, caught Gwyna's hand, and drew her up the stairs to the front of the balcony where everyone could see her. She looked around in confusion, not certain what he had in mind.
Rune squeezed Talaysen's hand in excitement, and he hugged her back. Was the boy about to do what he thought?
There were gasps from the people below, as they saw her in all her Gypsy finery. Gasps of outrage, mostly. Bad enough to have this bumpkin-prince on the royal balcony, but a Gypsy?
They were about to get an even bigger shock.
'G-Gwyna Kravelen, Free B-Bard, will you m-marry me?' he asked, his voice carrying clearly to the edge of the square.
The silence could have been cut and eaten.
'I-oh-I-' she stammered just as badly as he had, and Rune giggled.
'I'll t-take that for a yes,' he said, and looked over her head at the Priest who had conducted the abdication ceremony. 'Y-you've w-w-witnessed it, Father,' he continued, and kissed her.
At that, Victor could no longer restrain himself. He was already half delirious at having his cousin back-and discovering that Sional didn't hate them. Now he lost every shred of dignity.
He gave a wild whoop of joy, threw his hat into the air, where it sailed up and landed on the roof-and threw his arms around the both of them.
Then the cheers began.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
'So, who's the happiest man in Birnam today?' Rune asked Talaysen, as they showered the mob of mixed Gypsy and servant children under the balcony with candy to keep them out of mischief.
'Kestrel?' Talaysen hazarded. She shook her head, and pitched sweets to some of the littlest who weren't getting any.
'Almost, but not quite,' she told him. 'He will be when he gets Robin out of here, but the celebrating is wearing thin. Weddings are really for women, anyway.' She giggled. 'I think the happiest person, not only in Birnam but in all of Alanda, is the Queen. She not only got to plan an entire wedding, she got to play mother to the groom and the bride!'
'The King?' Talaysen guessed. 'No-probably not. When he offered to host this wedding he never guessed that every Gypsy within three kingdoms was going to descend on him.' They both laughed, though Rune couldn't help but think he deserved at least that much anxiety, after all those years of pain that he'd given Kestrel. But there would be bills coming to the Palace for pilfered goods and stolen livestock for the next month at least. And stodgy little Birnam would never be the same again. They'd been invaded by an army of folk who had no ties but to the road, no responsibilities but to each other, and they had been set on their ears by the experience.
'It isn't me,' the Bard said, after a moment.
'Really?' She raised an eyebrow at him. 'You got what you wanted. Free Bards have exactly the same privileges as Guild Bards in Birnam-'
He nodded, and sighed. 'But to get that, I had to agree to be Laurel Bard to the throne.'
That had been to keep the Bardic Guild out of making mischief with the King's enemies. Now there would be an information network everywhere-the Free Bards and the Gypsies who remained-that the Church, the Guild, and the disgruntled Sires couldn't touch or even trace.
She tsked at him, and threw another handful of candy. 'Poor Master Wren. Property, the title of Sire-I know people who'd kill for that-'
'I had that all and gave it up,' he reminded her. 'Never mind. We can go scandalize Birnam some more, and build a Free Bard school in the manor-how does that sound?'
'Good,' she told him contentedly. 'But you still haven't answered my question.'
'I give up,' he said, and popped a candy in her mouth.
'Victor,' she said, tucking it into her cheek.
'Why Victor?' That answer had clearly surprised him.
'First-he got his cousin back. Second-his mother got to have a wedding, and he didn't have to get married. She'll probably leave him alone for a few more months. Third-the King isn't a child-killing ogre anymore, and I don't think he's in any danger of making that grave a moral decision again-and last, but by no means least-Prince Victor
