Lark and Wren

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 has been very popular with our Gypsy friends.' She laughed at the look on his face. 'He's their favorite gejo at the moment. He has gotten quite an education, I promise you! Frankly, I'm surprised he can walk of a morning!'

'So that's why he's-' Talaysen broke off what he was going to say, much to her disappointment. 'Look-here comes the wagon!'

A brand new and beautifully painted wagon, the King's wedding gift to the happy couple, driven by Raven and drawn by two glossy black mares, clattered across the cobblestones of the courtyard. Nightingale balanced on the top, scattering coppers to all sides, which had the effect of sending the children out of harm's way, shrieking with delight.

Raven pulled them up smartly, and just below the balcony, the great doors flew open. Kestrel and Robin, dressed head-to-toe in the Gypsy finery in which-to the utter scandal of the court-they had been wedded, ran hand- in-hand out onto the cobblestones. Raven jumped down off the driver's bench as Nightingale slid from the top. Raven handed Gwyna up, holding her long enough for a hearty kiss, then turned the reins over to Kestrel.

Kestrel jumped up onto the driver's bench and took his place beside Gwyna. He had proved to be a good driver, with Raven to tutor him, and the mares responded to his touch on the reins promptly. As he got the spirited mares turned, the thunder of hooves rang out from the entrance to the courtyard.

A flood of of Gypsy riders poured in, each one trying to outdo the other in stunt-riding.

They swirled around the wagon, and as Kestrel cracked the whip above the horses' heads, they surrounded it, whooping at the tops of their lungs.

And just as the entire equipage started to pull out, escort and all, another rider appeared at the far side of the courtyard, from the direction of the royal stables.

He let out a wild war-cry that caught even the Gypsies' attention, and plunged towards them.

'Is that-Victor?' Talaysen said, incredulously.

It was. Dressed-not quite in wild Gypsy regalia, but certainly in the brightest gear his closet had to offer. He spurred his horse towards the wedding cortege with another wild cry, circled the group three times, and cried, 'Come on! The road won't wait forever!'

He pounded off towards the courtyard gate, the clear leader of the pack, with the rest of the mob streaming along behind him, wagon in their midst.

The stunned silence that filled the courtyard was more eloquent than words. Finally Talaysen shook his head.

'Poor Birnam,' he sighed. 'Poor, stiff-necked Birnam. We've unmade their King, turned their Princes into Gypsies, their lands into a haven for ne'er-do-well vagabonds, elves, and Free Bards, and stolen the power from their Bardic Guild. What's left?'

'Oh,' she said, thinking of a little secret she had just shared with Gwyna. He'll find out about it in a month or two. I think he'll like being a father. 'I'll think of something. Trust me.'

'And you'll probably manage to surprise me as much as we've surprised Birnam,' he chuckled.

She just smiled, and waved to the vanishing Gypsies.