“My princess, what are you talking about?”
“You’ll learn, soon enough. Yes, I do believe that I shall go riding alone again tomorrow.” Her smile was all at once so alien, so full of dark, sorcerous promise, that Volmar’s heart turned chill. “And then,” Carlotta added softly, “we ... shall see what we shall see.”
More than that, she would not say, leaving Count Volmar cold with nameless dread.
Kevin sat: on a wobbly pile of books, head in hands. He’d searched the library from end to end; the manuscript just wasn’t here!
No one could have taken it. Not even the count knew which manuscript I was copying!
Right. No one had taken the thing. The dust that covered much of the floor showed pretty clearly that, save for that one brief visit by Charina, no one other than he had even been in the library recently: her neat footprints were in a direct line in and out of the room, his were all over the place, but had a distinctive cleft in one sole. If anyone else had entered, they’d done so in mid-air.
This was insane! Nobody around here could fly—but manuscripts didn’t up and vanish all by themselves!
I should have gone riding with Charina, Kevin thought in misery.
He had passed her in the hall—or, rather, she had passed him, on her way for another solitary ride, sweeping regally by with her head in the air as if he hadn’t even existed. Kevin winced, wondering if she would ever even speak to him again. He had been right, of course, painful though it was; he was here to do a job, not enjoy himself with a beautiful young woman—
A job he couldn’t do because the cursed manuscript was gone!
A sudden frantic pounding on the library door brought Kevin to his feet in alarm.
“Bardling!” a voice shouted. “Count Volmar wishes to see you!”
The count! The bardling stiffened in sudden panic. Why did Count Volmar want to see him now? Was it something about the manuscript—or about Charina? Kevin hastily smoothed his hair with his hands and brushed the dust off himself as best he could, wishing he had time to make himself more presentable, then hurried out of the library.
His first impression was of an anthill someone had kicked. The usually quiet corridors were packed with people rushing back and forth, panic in their eyes and voices.
“What is it?” he asked. “Are—are we under attack?”
“No, no.” The servant who’d knocked on the door was in a frenzy of impatience. “No time to talk, bardling. Hurry!”
Kevin had expected Count Volmar to be holding court in the Great Hall, as was usual for the lord of a castle. Instead, to the bardling’s surprise, he was rushed up to the count’s private solar and practically shoved inside. A tall, lean, richly dressed man who could only be Count Volmar was pacing restlessly back and forth.
He stopped short as Kevin entered, staring at the bardling with frantic eyes. “Good, good, you’re here. Bardling, I know you and my niece have become friends. No, no, don’t look so guilty! I know you haven’t done anything dishonorable.”
The count resumed his nervous pacing. “It’s Charina.” The words were choked out. “She’s gone.”
“Gone! What—how—”
“Charina went riding this morning,” Count Volmar said softly, “with only her groom to protect her. I—I never should have let her go, but ...” He held up a helpless hand—”Charina can be so very persuasive. And I never really believed she could come to any harm, never! Not on my lands!”
“My lord, please!” Kevin cried. “What happened?”
“Her horse returned without her, its coat all sweaty with fright. I thought there had been an accident, that Charina had been thrown and the groom was staying with her. But when I sent men out to hunt for my niece, they returned white-faced and trembling. They had found the groom, all right. Dead. Killed by sorcery—elvish sorcery.” The count shuddered. “There was no sign at all of Charina.”
“Elvish?” Kevin protested, remembering the elves who’d appeared to him back in the forest. He never doubted those so-superior beings could have been capable of great cruelty if the fancy moved them. But surely they never would have committed murder! They were alien, not evil! “Are you sure? I mean, why would elves—”
“Don’t you know anything?” Count Volmar snapped. “Don’t you have the slightest idea of what the world is like out there? Bardlings! All wound up in your music—Did you think that everyone in the land is loyal to the King?”
“I... suppose not. But—”
“There are rebel elves throughout the king’s realm —yes, and not just White Elves, either! At least those have a code of honor, even if a man can’t understand it. But there are others far worse!”
“Dark Elves, you mean?” Kevin wanted desperately to show he knew something about the world.
“Of course Dark Elves! Necromancers, the lot of them!” The count shook his head in disgust. “Should have been exterminated years ago!”
“I don’t understand? I always thought the elf-folk, even the—the Dark Elves, kept pretty much to themselves. Why would they—”
“They aren’t human!” the count exploded. “These are Others; who can comprehend anything they do? They hate humans, bardling, every one of them, particularly any who try to rule ‘their’ country. And they have Powers we can’t hope to understand. The Dark Elves, with their foul, foul sorceries ...” He shuddered. “Yes, and even the White Elves wield magic strong enough to twist human minds! They can turn child against parent, friend against friend—They can even destroy a human mind and soul, leaving nothing behind but an empty shell to be filled with whatever they will,” Volmar broke out abruptly, turning sharply away. After a moment, he muttered, “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to shout at you, bardling. It’s simply that I—I am so very worried about Charina .... “
“They wouldn’t dare harm her!” Kevin said inanely.
“You think not? Look you, at first I hoped she had simply been kidnapped. But there have been no ransom demands, no messages at all! I fear they hate humans so much they’re not going to even try to get anything from me. No, ah no, they’ll hurt her just because she is who she is!”
“They can’t!” Kevin cried in anguish—”I—uh, we won’t let them!”
The count let out a long, shuddering sigh. “No,” he said, “we won’t Bardling.,—Kevin, is it? Kevin, I plan to mount several expeditions to find her. And I want you to lead one.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You and Charina became such good friends in so short a time that there must be some psychic link between you. And that will certainly help you use Bardic Magic to find her.”
Somehow Kevin forgot that what magic he happened to possess was only now starting to wake, its range still unknown. “I’ll do it!” he cried, “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow.” The count smiled faintly. “Thank you, Kevin. I’m sure a talented young man like yourself will succeed where knights, with all their brainless heroics, would only fail.”
A small part of Kevin’s mind wasn’t so sure of that. What, he, an untrained bardling, succeed over battle-proven warriors? But he didn’t dare let himself start to doubt, for Charina’s lovely sake. “Your niece will be safely returned to you, Count Volmar,” the bardling said somberly, and bowed his most courtly bow.