lessons. She listened to her mother's next words.
'Sir Keane,' the queen continued, 'I must beg a favor of you. We know my daughter is wise, but she is also young.'
'Indeed, Lady.' Keane suppressed a smile, but the tightening of the tall man's lips annoyed Alicia.
'Will you journey to Blackstone with her? This, her first task in the name of the crown, is a matter of delicacy and importance. Your help would be very useful, I am certain.'
Now it was the princess who smiled privately. Keane's aversion to travel, indeed to anything of the outdoors, was well known. To his credit, the tutor concealed his dismay. 'Of course, Your Highness. It shall be my pleasure.'
'Good. Now.' Robyn turned to Deirdre. 'The clerics have told me to stay in bed overnight, so I'll need your help with some things for the next few days. The ambassador from Calimshan is coming to dinner tomorrow.'
'Of course, Mother.' There was nothing private about Deirdre's pleasure. She had longed for such a chance and felt no reluctance to accept the reins of responsibility.
Robyn leaned back against the pillows. Her face was drawn, her brow once again spotted with perspiration. She sighed weakly and then spoke. 'I will sleep in a moment, but please, one more thing. Will you send for Tavish? I'd like to speak with her in private.'
'She's right outside,' said Keane, not surprised that the bard had earlier anticipated the queen's request. They filed quietly from the room and Tavish entered.
'My Queen,' the bard said, grieving, 'it is to my wretched shame that the news I bring should cause such a heavy burden.'
Robyn waved her hand, impatient. 'It is not just the news-and by the goddess, am I an ignorant war queen who knows no better than to hold her messenger responsible for the news she bears?'
'I should hope not, Lady.'
'Well, of course not! The news is grievous, of course-all the more so because it confirms that which I have feared.'
Tavish waited expectantly before the queen continued.
'These curses, the misfortunes that have befallen our lands, are not simply the effects of dire weather. We are being punished! Punished for our faithlessness.'
'Would that I could argue with you, for I should not hesitate to do so,' replied the harpist. 'But, alas, it is a feeling that I have come to share as well.'
Robyn reached out and took the older woman's stronger hand in both her own. 'That is why Alicia's journey is so important. I don't believe we can afford to lose a Moonwell, stagnant and lifeless though it may be!'
'There, too, I must agree.'
'Then please, Tavish, go with them. Go with Keane and Alicia to Blackstone and see that their counsel is wise. . and prudent.'
'Of course.' The bard bowed her head, humble before her queen.
'There is one thing more.' Robyn gestured toward a dark hickory chest near one wall of her bedchamber. 'You will find the key in my nightstand. Please open it.'
Tavish did so, inserting the tiny golden tines into the keyhole, turning it to release the catch, and then lifting the heavy lid with both hands.
'The staff-take it out.' Robyn's voice was a command.
Tavish saw that the chest contained several felt pouches of rich cloth as well as a pair of scrolls, a metal torque that she recognized as having graced the queen's neck at her wedding, and a long stave of smooth, white ash.
The bard lifted the staff out and closed the lid. Turning, she offered it to Robyn.
'No.' The queen shook her head. 'It is the Staff of the White Well, the tool of a druid, not a cleric-nor a queen. Take it with you on your journey. It may be that you will come upon one who shall use it.'
'Very well, Lady,' Tavish replied, bowing deeply. 'I am honored by the trust.'
Robyn leaned back again, her face grown shockingly pale. 'You do me honor if you help my daughter succeed.'
He presented himself as a cleric, and how else were the men to take him? His powers were real enough: They had all seen him materialize in their midst, along the storm-wracked shore of Whitefish Bay. When he spoke, his voice was full of power and promise, sweeping the hundred or so ruffians in his audience to a pitch of enthusiasm and loyalty. They had gathered from the slums, from the waterfronts and garrison quarters, of the worst dives along the Sword Coast.
There were also the matters of his robe and his identity. The one who had summoned these men-bandits, mercenaries, and outlaws, from Gnarhelm and Callidyrr and places beyond-was robed from head to foot, revealing only his hands. The latter were pale and spotted, almost skeletally frail, but supple and quick of movement.
And not one of the men summoned here knew the name or the identity of the robed man. Yet he spoke of the gods like one who knew their ways, and his gold was real. Finally, his promise of gold answered the important questions.
Lost in the mist and rain, the white towers of Callidyrr thrust skyward no more than five miles away, but they might have been across the world for all they could be seen. The band of scoundrels gathered here secretly, coming from the cities and forests and highlands-wherever the robed man had found them.
He divided his recruits into two companies. Those of the north he outfitted with helms and weapons of the type used by northmen.
'You, Kaffa, will be my captain,' said the robed man, addressing a huge, one-eyed northman. 'You will take seventy men to the longship I have provided. It is anchored in a cove along the north shore of Whitefish Bay. I have the location sketched on maps, which I will provide you when our business here is concluded. Also, I have affixed a talisman to the ship-a thing that will protect you against sorcery.'
'You don't lead us there?' inquired Kaffa, with a spit.
'I have other, equally important matters to attend to. But listen to me carefully, for here are your orders:
'Sail swiftly down the coast of Callidyrr,' the mysterious priest ordered the crew in that dry voice that discouraged questions or debate. 'Strike all the major cantrevs-Blythe, Dorset, Kythyss. Land quickly and burn what you can, wherever you can. Take treasure and captives only as it does not jeopardize your mission. Then, when you reach Southpoint, pass to the western shore and continue your raiding along the western shore of Alaron.'
'Aye, Master,' replied the one called Kaffa.
'And you, Larth,' the priest continued, now speaking to a strapping outlaw known to be skilled with sword and shield. 'You will lead the other thirty men. I have collected horses and armor in a barn beside that same cove. You will don them and ride, as knights of Callidyrr, against the lands of the northmen. Kill and burn as you ride. Take what treasure you will, but I want no prisoners!'
'As you wish, great one,' replied Larth, grinning easily as he contemplated mayhem.
'Both of you, my captains, must remain alert for a message from me. When that comes, I want you to join me as quickly as possible. I will need you without delay!'
Standing on the gray shore of Whitefish Bay, the men nodded and then turned to their tasks. They would move north in small bands, agreeing to gather at the appointed cove in four days' time.
Watching them go, the robed figure allowed himself a shadow of a smile beneath his masking robe. The mist parted as a sudden gust drove the rain momentarily inland. The man glimpsed the towers of the great white castle.
He thought of one who dwelled there, who dreamed of the robed man, though she did not know it yet. Still, her dreams were a summons, an appeal to him, and soon she would know his presence. To her, he would become more than the impersonal figure who had just sent these raiding parties on their missions. Indeed, she would need to call him something- though, of course, he could not let her know his real name. The faint smile played with his lips as he thought of the young princess and her naive welcome.
'She will call me Malawar,' he whispered to himself with a soft chuckle.
From the Log of Sinioth:
