"Indeed. A moving ballad, and one we have not yet heard in Callidyrr," noted Keane.
"Well, I should hope not!" Tavish feigned high dudgeon. "I composed it during my winter's rest in Corwell."
"Oh, yes," Robyn interjected. "Now, tell us-you said you have news!"
Tavish's face grew serious. "Aye, Lady. Some of it, perhaps, is familiar, for Corwell and Gwynneth suffer the same from flood and storm as have the rest of the Isles these past several years. Fortunately they have not so many mouths to feed, and the harvests from the sea have been good on those days when weather permits the fisherffolk to sail."
"That's some welcome news," Robyn allowed. "It's good to see more of the Ffolk take to the water that surrounds them. We have always been such a land-bound people."
"Indeed. But with the keelwork that was laid by the shipwrights of the northmen as a personal favor to His Majesty, the Ffolk of Corwell and Moray have considerably improved the seaworthiness of their craft."
"And Earl Randolph?" inquired the High Queen. The earl had once been captain of Corwell's castle guard, advancing to the earldom when Tristan came to rule in Callidyrr.
"He is well, and sends my lady his good wishes. The steading of the Kendricks is in good hands, you may rest assured." Tavish paused, looking past the others, pondering before she continued.
"Much of the time I spent there, the fog lay thick across the town and the moor. It rolled into Corwell Firth before dawn and stayed till dusk. On many days, you couldn't see Caer Allisynn where it stood, a bare half-mile up the shore."
They all remembered that towering castle, anchored upon the gravelly bed of the Firth for twenty years.
"Finally came a day when the fog lifted, opening again to firth and moor. Then it was that we saw, and I left in haste to bring the news to you."
"What?" Robyn's face had grown pale. "What did you see?"
"It's what we did not see," the bard replied, softly. "Caer Allisynn. It was gone. It may as well have sailed with the midnight tide."
Alicia sat back in her chair, stunned. She heard a sound to her side and turned, gasping, as her mother groaned and slumped back in her chair. The others looked at the queen and then sprang to her side as they saw that her face was locked in an expression of deep, supernatural fear.
The storm pulsed as Talos became aware of a sudden vulnerability. Power flowed between the thunderheads, arcing across with sizzling explosions. Lightning flashed earthward, heavenly javelins of deadly force.
And while the crushing fists of the storm beat about the walls of the castle with lightning and hail, sinister fingers of mist penetrated the closed shutters, slipped beneath barred doors. Those perilous tendrils trickled along the floor, seeking the place of weakness that the god had sensed.
When those fingers of fear felt the nearness of the High Queen, they clutched forward, eager to clasp their chill grip around the faintly beating heart.
They grasped, and then they squeezed.
Robyn's head tossed on the pillow as Alicia patted her brow with a damp cloth. Suddenly the queen's eyes opened, but they did not see her daughter. Instead, they stared at something Alicia sensed was far, far away.
Then Robyn fell back, limp again, but this time her eyes remained opened. Alicia saw, with profound relief, that her mother's gaze now seemed to focus.
"Don't try to talk, Mother," she soothed. "It's been a terrible shock. Just rest."
"No." Robyn shook her head weakly. "It's a sign! We forsook her, and now, one by one, she takes our lives and our lands from us."
"She? Who?"
"The goddess!"
"Please, Mother-you've got to rest." Frightened again, Alicia wished someone was here with her.
"Summon Keane and Deirdre."
"What?" Alicia, startled, felt as though her mother had eavesdropped upon her thoughts. She rose and went to the door, speaking to one of her mother's ladies-in-waiting.
"They'll be here in a few minutes," she said, returning to sit upon the edge of the bed.
"Help me sit up." Robyn wiped her hair from her forehead and leaned forward so that Alicia could arrange her pillows. In moments, she looked strong again. Only after careful study did the princess realize that her mother's eyes had sunk deep in their sockets, and her cheeks remained drawn and pale.
In a short time, Deirdre and Keane arrived, and Robyn bade all three of them to take seats near the bed. She took a breath and began to speak.
"I was seized by a spell of weakness. It lingers, though the immediate onslaught has passed. Nevertheless, I shall not be able to journey to Blackstone as I had planned."
Alicia blinked. She had forgotten that her mother had been requested by the king to make that journey.
"My daughter," the queen continued, addressing Alicia, "you must make the trip in my stead. And after the news that Tavish has brought, you must reconsider your father's decision regarding the Moonwell."
Keane spoke. "Lord Blackstone should be instructed not to disturb the pool?"
Robyn smiled wanly. "I cannot make that decision from here. But neither can we dismiss the portent of Caer Allisynn."
"I don't understand," Alicia balked. "What do you want me to do?"
"You must see if there is anything-anything at all-that the miners can do to avoid the well. There must be a way to save the sacred pool!"
"I'll do my best," Alicia pledged, deeply frightened. Suddenly she wished she had paid closer attention to her 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."