The Star Scroll Part 1

The Star Scroll.

by Melanie Rawn.

Part One

The Scroll

Chapter One.

Graypearl, Prince Lleyn's elegant jewel box of a palace, nestled atop its hill in a sculpted setting of lush spring gra.s.s and flowering trees. Built of stone that gleamed at dawn and sunset with the subtle iridescence from which it drew its name, it was one of the few princely residences that had never been a fortress. No defensive architecture had ever been needed on the island of Dorval, at peace with itself and the nearby continent for longer than anyone's great-grandfather could remember. Graypearl's towers had been fashioned for beauty, not war.

Gardens spread in curved terraces overlooking a tiny harbor where boats sailed out in season to harvest the pearl beds. A small army of groundskeepers kept the luxuriant spring growth of flowers, herbs, and trees from running riot-but no one could impose similar order on the boy who ran an intricate pattern between the rose trees, kicking a deerhide ball before him. He was a slight youth, rather small for his fourteen winters. But there was the promise of height in his long bones and he moved with an agility that older squires had reason to bemoan in games of skill with blunted knives and wooden swords. Dark blond hair crowned a clever oval face whose most vivid feature was a pair of large, fine eyes that changed from blue to green depending on his mood and the color of his clothes. It was a quick face, intelligent and sensitive, with its share of inherent pride in bones which were becoming more visible as his features lost their childish roundness. But there was nothing about him to suggest that he was anything more than a squire fostered to Prince Lleyn's court for training, released from afternoon duties and playing happily by himself in the gardens. Certainly there was no indication that he was the only son of the High Prince, destined to inherit not only his father's Desert lands but those of Princemarch as well.

Princess Audrite, wife of Lleyn's heir Chadric, watched the boy with an indulgent smile. Her own sons had gone to other courts just as this youth had, and returned as young knights skilled in all the graces-not her little boys anymore. She spared a sigh for having missed their growing years, but other youngsters had filled up her time and, some of them, portions of her heart. Maarken, Lord Chaynal of Radzyn's eldest son and cousin to the boy playing in the gardens, had been one of her favorites, with his swift mind and sunny smiles. But this golden princeling she watched now was special. Made of air and light he was, with a temper like flashfire through summer-dry timber and a streak of mischief that had more than once landed him in trouble. In fact, he ought not to have been excused his duties like the other squires this afternoon, for he still owed her the copying of a hundred lines of verses after a misde meanor yesterday in the kitchens-something involving a large quant.i.ty of pepper and an exploding fish bladder. She was not sure she wanted to know the particulars. An inventive mind, had young Pol, and Audrite chuckled in spite of herself. She had chosen a most appropriate punishment by selecting poetry for him to copy; had she specified a hundred mathematical problems, he would have completed them in a wink and considered it no punishment at all.

The princess shook out her thin silk gown and settled on a bench, not wishing to interrupt Pol's game until she had found the right phrases for what she had to tell him. But all at once the deerhide ball shot past her, propelled by an enthusiastic kick, and the boy skidded to a stop before her. Surprised by her presence, he nevertheless gave her a bow worthy of the most elegant young lord.

"Your pardon, my lady. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's all right, Pol. Actually, I came here looking for you and thought I'd sit in the shade for a little while. It's quite hot this spring, isn't it?"

He was not yet skilled enough in the art of polite conversation to take her lead on to further chat about the weather. "Do you have news for me, my lady?"

Audrite chose to be as direct as he. "Your father has asked permission to take you away from us for a time. He wants you to go home to Stronghold by way of Radzyn, then to the Rialla Rialla with him and your mother." with him and your mother."

Excitement shone in the young face. "Home? Really?" Then, realizing that his reaction might be taken amiss, he hurried on, "I mean, I like it here and I'll miss you and my lord Chadric and my friends-"

"And we'll miss you, Pol." Audrite smiled her understanding. "But we'll bring you back to Graypearl with us after the Rialla Rialla so you may continue your training. It's unusual, you know, for a squire to be allowed a holiday from the work he must do in order to become a knight and a gentleman. Do you think what you've learned thus far is enough to uphold Prince Lleyn's reputation?" so you may continue your training. It's unusual, you know, for a squire to be allowed a holiday from the work he must do in order to become a knight and a gentleman. Do you think what you've learned thus far is enough to uphold Prince Lleyn's reputation?"

Pol gave her a cheerful grin. "If it isn't, then Father will know it's my my fault, not anyone else's!" fault, not anyone else's!"

Audrite grinned back. "Yes, we had a long letter about you when you first came to us."

"But I was just a child then," he a.s.sured her, blithely forgetting the transgression of the previous day. "I won't do anything to embarra.s.s anyone. I've outgrown all that." He paused, glancing at the sea far below. "Except-I'll have to cross water, won't I? I'll try to behave better than I did the first time."

The princess ruffled his blond hair. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Pol. Indeed, you ought to be proud. All Sunrunners lose their dignity along with their breakfast when they cross water."

"But I'm a prince, and I should be in better control of myself." He sighed. "Oh, well. Once to Radzyn and once coming back-I suppose it won't be too bad."

"There's a silk-ship leaving in two days for Radzyn port, and Prince Lleyn has bespoken a place for you on it. He's sending Meath with you for company."

Pol made a face halfway between a grin and a grimace. "Then we can be sick together!"

"I'm convinced it's the G.o.ddess' way of keeping you faradh'im faradh'im humble! Why don't you go upstairs now and start packing?" humble! Why don't you go upstairs now and start packing?"

"I will, my lady. And tomorrow-" He hesitated, then went on, "Could I go down to the harbor and find presents for my mother and Aunt Tobin? I've saved almost everything Father's sent me since I got here, so I've money enough."

He had the right instincts; he was already generous and thoughtful about pleasing ladies. That face and those eyes would be breaking hearts before he was too much older, Audrite reflected, and relished the notion that she would be around to watch. "You and Meath may be excused tomorrow for the day. But I seem to recall you have a certain project to complete for me first. How many lines was it?"

"Fifty?" he asked hopefully, then sighed. "One hundred. I'll have them done by tonight, my lady."

"If they're not in my hands until tomorrow evening, I'll understand," she suggested, winning another of his wide smiles and a bow of thanks. Then he ran back up the terraces to the palace.

Audrite spent a few more moments enjoying the shade before she, too, left the gardens. Her steps were lithe and energetic as she climbed; a pa.s.sion for riding had kept her slim and supple for all her forty-nine winters. She unlatched the gate that led into the private enclave and paused to admire the oratory that rose like a shining gem from the formal gardens. It was said that the one at Castle Crag, a crystal dome built into the side of the cliffs there, was the most splendid in all the thirteen princedoms, but she could imagine nothing more beautiful than this oratory at Graypearl-and not only because she had had a great deal to do with its construction.

Carved stone columns had been taken from an abandoned keep on the other side of the island to support walls of pale wood and brilliant stained gla.s.s. The painted wooden ceiling rose far above, punctuated with small, clear windows in an uneven pattern that looked random but was not. It could be said that the oratory was in reality a temple: lit by the Fire of sun and moons, open to the Air, built of the things of the Earth, and circled by a stream of Water that irrigated the gardens below. Audrite crossed the little footbridge and stepped between the columns, catching her breath as always at the beauty of the place. It was like walking into a rainbow. And if standing here embraced by all the colors in the world was a moving experience for her, it must be near ecstacy for farad-h'im. farad-h'im.

The ceiling had been the hardest to reconstruct. Some of its supports had been demolished, and it had taken years of study for Audrite to discern the proper placement of windows. The tiled floor had been painstakingly lifted from the soil and overgrown gra.s.ses on the far side of Dorval, and was marked with various symbols for the seasons and indicated the position and phases of the three moons on any given night of the year. Audrite had spent years checking its accuracy, and several new tiles had been fashioned at her direction to replace ones worn or broken long ago at the other keep. Her calculations on the exact relationship of ceiling to tiles, and the observations of Lleyn's Sunrunners, Meath and Eolie, had awed everyone. For the original design of this oratory had been correct down to the slightest nuance.

Twenty-one years ago, Prince Lleyn had learned from Lady Andrade-she who ruled G.o.ddess Keep and all Sunrunners-that the abandoned castle had once belonged to the faradh'im. faradh'im. Stone had been taken from it for hundreds of years to construct other places, including Graypearl, but on Lleyn's return from the Stone had been taken from it for hundreds of years to construct other places, including Graypearl, but on Lleyn's return from the Rialla Rialla that autumn an excavation had begun in earnest. This master-work had been their most important find, save one. Audrite walked softly over the summer tiles, a smile on her face for the sheer beauty of the oratory and the sheer joy of understanding it. The structure had become again what it had been meant to be: the most remarkable calendar in all the princedoms. that autumn an excavation had begun in earnest. This master-work had been their most important find, save one. Audrite walked softly over the summer tiles, a smile on her face for the sheer beauty of the oratory and the sheer joy of understanding it. The structure had become again what it had been meant to be: the most remarkable calendar in all the princedoms.

She heard steps on the footbridge and turned. Meath entered the oratory and bowed a greeting. "Full moons tonight," he said, smiling as he shared her delight at their knowledge.

"You can use them to contact Princess Sioned," Audrite told him.

"You've talked to Pol, then?"

"Yes. I'll have to give you my notes on the scrolls." She frowned slightly. "Meath, do you think it's wise to give them to Andrade now? She's very old. It may be that she won't have time to discover their meaning-and it may also be that the next Lady or Lord of G.o.ddess Keep won't use the knowledge wisely."

The faradhi faradhi shrugged and spread his hands wide, rings glinting in the colored sunlight. "I'm convinced she'll outlive us all, if only through pure cussedness." He smiled, then shook his head. "As for the other thing-I agree that it's a risk. But I'd rather have Andrade examine the scrolls now and decide what to do with them than wait and see who next rules G.o.ddess Keep." shrugged and spread his hands wide, rings glinting in the colored sunlight. "I'm convinced she'll outlive us all, if only through pure cussedness." He smiled, then shook his head. "As for the other thing-I agree that it's a risk. But I'd rather have Andrade examine the scrolls now and decide what to do with them than wait and see who next rules G.o.ddess Keep."

"You were the one who found them," she said slowly. "I've helped with as many of the words as I could-and, G.o.ddess knows, there wasn't much I fully understood," she added regretfully. "But the responsibility for them is yours."

"Well, it's true that I dug them out of the rubble, but I'd prefer not to have the choice of what's done with them. If they're as important as we suspect, then it's knowledge I'm not qualified to deal with. I'd rather see the scrolls in Andrade's hands, not mine. She'll either understand them and use them, or destroy them if they're too dangerous."

Audrite nodded. "Come by my library later tonight and I'll give you my notes."

"Thank you, my lady. Andrade will appreciate it, I know." He smiled again. "I wish you could be there to see her face!"

"So do I. I just hope the shock isn't too much for her."

The hundred lines of verse duly copied and presented to Princess Audrite, Pol was free by late morning to ride to the harbor with Meath. Shops snuggled along the village's narrow main street, not as varied in their wares as the stores in Dorval's main shipping center down the coast or in Radzyn's port. But there were interesting things to be had here-crafts native to the island and not much traded elsewhere: small items made of silk remnants, jewelry cunningly fashioned to hide defects in pearls not suitable for the general market. Pol and Meath tied their horses in front of a dockside inn where they planned to have lunch later, and walked up and down the street, window-shopping.

The merchants all knew Pol, of course, and were of two att.i.tudes when it came to selling him things. Some, aware of his father's great wealth, quoted outrageous prices in hopes of siphoning off a little of that wealth for themselves. Others cared more about royal favor, and underpriced their wares in a shameless bid for Pol's further patronage. The young prince usually did his looking through the windows, then consulted with companions on the fair price of goods that caught his eye before making his purchases. Patient for the first and second tours up and down the street, Meath finally asked Pol if he intended to spend all day at this. A third perusal was all the Sunrunner would stand for; he ordered the boy back to the inn for sustenance.

Prince Lleyn did not tolerate seafaring roughnecks in this port. He discouraged them elsewhere, naturally, but here in the precincts of his palace they were forbidden. Thus everything catering to such men-taverns where strong drink was served and brawls were common, disreputable lodgings where they bedded down between voyages, and the girls they bedded down with-were missing from Graypearl's little harbor. The law a.s.sured domestic peace and the safety of the residents as well as of the highborn youths who came to Dorval as squires, and the old prince himself often ventured down to the port for a meal or a day's ramble in the fresh air. The inn Meath chose was one Lleyn had introduced him to years ago, a clean and merry establishment perfectly safe for the heir to the High Prince. But even if it had not been, Meath's great height, broad shoulders, and faradhi faradhi rings would have ensured Pol's safety. rings would have ensured Pol's safety.

"G.o.ddess greeting to you, Sunrunner! And to the young master, as well!" The innkeeper, Giamo by name, came out from behind his counter and bowed his respects before escorting them to a table. "Honored to be of service to you both! Now, we've some fine cold roast today, and bread right out of the oven, and the first berries of the season, so sweet that they don't need any honey dol loped on them-although my good wife having a tooth for it, she slathers it on anyway! Will that suit?"

"Perfectly," Meath said with a happy sigh. "You can add a tankard for me and something appropriate for my friend, here."

Pol cast him a deeply reproachful look, and when the innkeeper had gone to fetch the meal said, "What's 'appropriate' for me, anyway? A gla.s.s of milk? I'm not a baby, Meath!"

"No, but not tall or hefty enough for a bout with the ale Giamo brews, either. Not at just over fourteen winters! Put on a few fingers' height and some flesh on those bones, and then we'll see." Meath grinned. "Besides, all I lack is your mother raving at me for letting you get drunk."

Pol made a face, then turned his attention to the other noon-time patrons of the inn. There were a few pearl-fishers, easily identifiable by their lean, lithe bodies, well-developed chest muscles, and the scars on their hands from digging sh.e.l.ls out of rock crevices. Skin weathered by sea and salt had paled a little during the winter months, but soon they would be out in their small boats again, browned from head to heels by summer sun during the annual harvest. Lleyn's squires often enjoyed the treat of a day's sail in the pearl coves-but not Pol. The first time he'd taken a look at those tiny, flat-bottomed boats bobbing gently at their moorings, he'd been most humiliatingly sick.

In one corner of the room a pair of merchants haggled pleasantly over their meal, swatches of silk on the table between them. A young man wooed a pretty girl nearby, their lunch forgotten as he whispered in her ear and sent her into gales of laughter. Near the door sat five soldiers, four men and a middle-aged woman, all dressed in light harness but without swords, according to the law here. They wore the solid red tunics and the white candle badge of Prince Velden of Grib.

"Meath?" Pol asked softly. "What are they doing at Graypearl?"

"Who?" he glanced around. "Oh, them. The Gribain amba.s.sador got in this morning. Something about arranging silk trade."

"But there's been a treaty forever that says all silk goes through Radzyn."

"Well, they can try to convince Lleyn, can't they? But I don't think they'll get anywhere. I wouldn't be too worried for your uncle's revenues-or your own," he finished teasingly.

Pol bristled. "Dorval can do as it likes with its silks-"

"As long as the Desert sees the profits?" Meath laughed, then held up a placating hand as blue-green eyes began to flash. "Sorry. Couldn't resist."

"I was talking about treaties and the law, not profits," Pol said sternly.

"I think you'll find such things are flexible when it comes to making money."

"Not since my father's been High Prince," he stated. "The law is the law, and he sees to it that laws are obeyed."

"Well, it's all beyond a simple Sunrunner like me, your grace," Meath said, barely controlling another smile.

Giamo arrived with a tray, and set before them two huge plates of food, a tankard of ale for Meath, and a Fironese crystal goblet filled with a clear, pale pink liquid that frothed gently with golden bubbles. Pol took a sip under his host's watchful eye, and smiled in delight. "Wonderful! What is it?"

"My own brewing," Giamo answered, pleased. "The most delicate and refined of ciders, barely blushing."

"It tastes just like spring itself," Pol said. "And I'm honored by the goblet it's served in."

"The honor is my wife's," Giamo replied with a bow. "It's not every woman can say that so important a lord has eaten at her table and sipped from her most treasured possession."

"If she's not too busy, then perhaps I can visit her in the kitchen and thank her."

"After you've finished your meal in peace," Giamo grinned. "My good wife Willa could talk the tail off a dragon."

Sunrunner and prince dug into the food. The healthy appet.i.tes of a growing boy and a large, active man required seconds; Meath requested a third piling of meat and flaky bread, and Pol was sincerely sorry that he was too full to do likewise. He lingered over a dish of berries in honey glaze and sipped at his cider, wondering if he might persuade Giamo to part with a bottle as a gift for his mother, who adored fine wines.

The pearl-fishers had gone, replaced by a trio of shipwrights come to enjoy a few tankards of ale. The young man and the girl were now being teased by the two silk merchants; Pol grinned to himself as the couple blushed. In a few years that would be him over there, enjoying the company of a charming lady. But he was in no hurry.

Replete at last, Meath leaned back with tankard in hand, ready for conversation again. "You didn't say if there was anything in the shops you liked well enough to buy."

"Well . . . the green silk slippers were pretty, and that comb of pearl sh.e.l.l. But Prince Chadric told me that a man should never buy a gift for a lady unless he takes one look at it and can see her wearing it or using it."

The Sunrunner laughed. "An excellent policy-and doubtless the reason Audrite always looks so lovely."

"You might try his advice out on that new maid in the west wing," Pol said, his eyes at their widest and most innocent. "I hear you haven't had much luck so far."

Meath spluttered on a swallow of ale. "How did you know about-"

Pol only laughed.

Willa, Giamo's wife, emerged from her kitchen then, wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n and obviously intending to gather compliments from her exalted guest. The merchants had risen to leave, still arguing amiably over their silk. The young girl squealed, "Oh, Rialt, you're terrible!" in response to some sally of her companion's; the shipwrights laughed in response and raised their cups to him. All was warm good cheer-until one of the soldiers suddenly shoved his chair back and sprang to his feet, growling a difference of opinion that turned every head in the room. Meath saw the glint of steel and rose, his substantial frame instinctively placed between the soldiers and Pol. The merchants, caught between their table and the angry Gribains by the door, sent a look of frantic appeal to the Sunrunner, and he nodded rea.s.surance.

"Here, now," Meath said casually. "You can settle this outside, can't you?"

Usually his height, his breadth of shoulder, and his rings made his point. But these were seasoned troopers, angry and resentful of any interference, even that of a faradhi. faradhi. The bearded one who seemed to have started the quarrel snarled, "It's no concern of yours, Sunrunner." The bearded one who seemed to have started the quarrel snarled, "It's no concern of yours, Sunrunner."

"Put the knife away," Meath replied, his voice less pleasant now. The merchants were trying to slip past, silk swatches rustling in their clenched hands, and the girl had shrunk back in her chair.

Willa marched forward, hands on hips. "How dare you threaten the peace of this inn?" she demanded. "And in the presence of-"

Meath interrupted before she could identify Pol. "Get out of here before you make a very serious mistake, my friends."

The woman-their captain judging by the braid at her throat-drew her own knife. "You have a loud and offensive mouth, faradhi. faradhi. And And you you are mistaken in using that tone to members of Prince Velden's own guard." are mistaken in using that tone to members of Prince Velden's own guard."

The bearded man brought up his knife in obvious threat, sunlight through the windows striking silver off the blade, and the innkeeper's wife shrieked a protest. The merchants tried to vanish behind a couple of chairs. And the knife sped through an abrupt silence toward Meath's chest.

"No!" a young voice cried. Meath rocked easily out of the knife's path as a fountain of Sunrunner's Fire rose from the middle of the soldiers' table. They yelled and leaped back, and in that precious moment of their startlement Meath surged toward them. He slammed two into the wall and shoved the woman at the terrified merchants. Rialt shook off his girlfriend's clutching hand, jumped to his feet, and launched himself at the bearded soldier. The three shipwrights, bulky muscles barely covered by thin shirts, hastily downed the last of their ale before leaping up to join the fight.

By brawl's end, Meath had a sore jaw and a shallow slit in his arm. Neither deterred him from overturning a table on top of the Gribain who was foolish enough not to stay where Rialt had kicked him. Two of the shipwrights were holding a second soldier so Rialt could take whatever punches he liked; Willa was engaged in tying up the unconscious woman with knotted napkins. The fourth soldier had gone headfirst into the brick hearth; the fifth sprawled on the floor, and the shipwright seated casually on the Gribain's spine looked up with a grin at Meath.

"Many thanks for the entertainment, my lord Sunrunner! I haven't had so much fun since I worked over to the other port!"

"My pleasure," Meath answered, and looked around for Pol. The boy was administering ale to the white-faced girl. He was unhurt, and Meath felt relief shake his knees just a little. He didn't want to consider what he would have told Sioned if her son had been injured.

Giamo puffed up the cellar stairs and gave a shocked cry. Meath patted his shoulder.

"All taken care of. But I'm afraid we've made a shambles of your room." He glanced down as capable hands went to work on his wounded arm. "It's nothing," he told Willa.

"Nothing?" She snorted and tied off the bandage she had made with strips torn from her ap.r.o.n. "Nothing that could have been deaths in my house, that's what nothing! Now, you find out who these ruffians are and what they're about while I find some good strong wine to restore the blood you've lost."

Meath was about to protest that it was only a scratch-then remembered the glorious wine Prince Lleyn had treated him to at this very inn last autumn. He nodded enthusiastic approval and Willa snorted once more.

There were more casualties among the furniture and plates than among the people involved. Rialt would have a sore shoulder for a few days, and the merchants' dignity had been more bruised than their backsides. Meath righted an overturned chair, tested it for soundness, and pointed to the Gribain commander, who sat on the floor with her hands bound behind her. "Have a seat," he invited.

Sullenly and awkwardly, she obeyed. Her red tunic was a little darker along one shoulder, but Meath judged the wound to be superficial. Of her companions, three would have very bad headaches and the other would not be walking entirely upright for a while. After a.s.suring himself of their relative good health, Meath stood before their captain with arms folded, unimpressed by her arrogant demand to be released on the instant.