Prophet of Moonshae

Alicia suddenly realized that the men had risen to their feet. She hadn't heard the rest of the conversation, but it seemed to have ended. Blackstone left, and Deirdre followed, walking slowly, deep in thought. Alicia paused at the door, wondering about Keane's role in the meeting.

The princess wanted to talk to him, but then the king gestured to the lanky tutor. 'Stay a moment, Keane,' he commanded. At the door, Alicia fussed with her boot, curious to overhear.

'How did you know they wished to excavate a Moonwell?' asked the king. His tone was understanding.

'A lucky guess, I suppose, sire.'

Tristan Kendrick chuckled softly. 'Not if I know you.'

Keane lowered his eyes, then looked back up at the king. 'Perhaps, Your Majesty, it's because Blackstone takes so many liberties. He exploits his power to rule like a king in his own earldom! He will do as he pleases, for the most part. So it was a simple matter of elimination, sire. The Moonwell is the only part of his estate where he still feels bound to consult you.'

The king nodded, not offended. 'May the gods curse it, but I need him right now. Without Blackstone gold, the kingdom couldn't support itself for another six months.'

'I know, sire.' For a moment, Keane felt a flash of sympathy for the monarch. It was a revelation to see how neatly the king was caught in this trap borne of necessity.

Tristan clapped the younger man on the shoulder. 'You're important here, Keane. What you did in there, pointing out arguments to me as well as to the earl-I need you to keep doing that.' The king paused reflectively for a moment, a soft smile playing upon his lips. 'When you came to the castle-what was it, seventeen years ago now? — and asked to apprentice yourself to my council of mages, I had little thought for what you might become.'

'I shall always be grateful, sire, for that first chance.'

'No-I should be grateful.' The king spoke with sincerity. 'You're more than an adviser to me. You've given my daughters an education that far surpasses my own, and I well know they're not the easiest pupils to teach!'

'I make every effort,' replied Keane, coughing awkwardly as he gave Alicia a sideways look. At the door, the princess hastily fixed her lace and left.

King Tristan smiled and clapped the tall mage on the shoulder. He raised his head, looking absently past the younger man. 'I know that, my boy,' he said gruffly, affectionately. 'I know I can count on you.'

Keane thought, as he saw the king's eyes focus on some distant scene-something far beyond the Great Hall- that the monarch seemed sad.

Alicia hurried down the hallway, strangely agitated. She caught up with Deirdre as her sister neared the library of arcane materials where the younger princess spent so much of her time.

'Deirdre?' Alicia called as her sister slowed and turned toward her, eyes still cautiously hooded. The dark- haired woman looked once, anxiously, at the library door. Then Deirdre turned back to her sister, regarding Alicia with a blank stare.

'What do you think?' asked Alicia. 'Should they dig up a Moonwell for gold?'

'The goddess has gone. Those wells are nothing more than muddy ponds,' Deirdre retorted.

'But. . doesn't it seem sacrilegious?'

Deirdre shrugged and looked back to the door. Alicia turned away, knowing that her sister's mind was elsewhere.

The younger princess disappeared behind the shelter of the dark-paneled door, and Alicia drifted aimlessly through the hallways, beneath their towering ceilings. Wandering up the grand stairway, vaguely remembering the morning's fine weather, she walked through the crystal doors that led to the high courtyard.

This courtyard was actually the roof of the Great Hall, throne room, royal kitchens, and other rooms that made up the heart of Caer Callidyrr. Surrounded by a stone battlement, it was a vast open area with a good view to all four sides. Indeed, only the castle's towers could bring one to a loftier height.

She saw the blue waters of the bay and noticed them turning gray. With a sigh, she looked upward at a wall of storm clouds rolling toward Callidyrr, darkening the sky over the Fairheight Mountains and promising soon to cast all the rest of the island under bleak shadow.

Suddenly angry, Alicia turned around and went back inside. Here it was, barely noon, and the first hours of good weather in nearly six months had already come to an end. She couldn't begin to guess how many more days might pass before she would again see the sun.

Musings of the Harpist

My dreams are troubled, and so I rise and walk the parapets of Caer Corwell. Earl Randolph, the king's trusted regent here, has graciously allowed me the freedom of his castle, and his hospitality has warmed me through the long winter and chill, windy spring. (Indeed, the earl, a handsome widower, has found many ways to drive the ice from these old limbs!)

Too, Lord Pawldo is a delight, as always. I shall never tire of his company. Even now, after all these years, he spins tales I have never heard, makes me laugh in ways I once took for the giddiness of a young girl.

And only in Corwell can I behold the wonder of Caer Allisynn. The castle was miraculously moved here by the goddess Earthmother twenty years ago, a sign that she favored the reign of the then-young king, Tristan Kendrick. Even as the power of the Mother faded from the land, the tall castle stands as a proud symbol of her memory.

But beyond that memory, so much has vanished. I miss the magic of her presence in the strings of my heart and in the empty hopes of our age. I have always missed her, but now, for the first time, I am also afraid.

Soon, with the approach of summer, I leave Caer Corwell, taking ship for Alaron, to the palace of my king. Yet it is not time for me to depart-not quite. I do not know for certain why I wait, but I sense this need to delay as strongly as any premonition I have ever known. I await some symbol, some sign, I must be here when it happens.

When what happens? I do not know.. cannot even guess. But I will remain in Corwell till it is time to learn. Then I shall carry word to my king.

3

Deirdre

The black-haired princess closed the door behind her, welcoming the sheltering confines of the palace library. This was the only place where she felt that she was truly her own mistress. Often she buried herself in the great works here. She loved the histories of peoples and nations, the subtle mysteries suggesting powers great and deep-knowledge that lurked discreetly amid the volumes, waiting only for the one who had the patience to seek it out.

Now, however, she felt tense and impatient, finding it impossible to sit down and read. She paced the wooden floor over boarskin rugs and finally found herself before one of the three narrow windows in the library's outer wall. As usual, it was shuttered against the weather.

Now Deirdre threw open the shutters to reveal a landscape of moors and hills, all blanketed by a heavy overcast. No rain fell-at least, not for now-so she left the window open and then cast open the other two pairs of shutters. Finally she turned to regard the room in the increased illumination.

Several heavy tables stood between the boarskins, as well as soft chairs that formed a casual semicircle before a fireplace and hearth of heavy, rounded fieldstone. Oil lanterns occupied each of the tables, as well as the mantel over the hearth, but the princess much preferred the natural lighting, even filtered as it was by the charcoal-colored clouds.