The Measure of a Queen

The Winglyth King

Rain beat down on the little building as Navarre produced the agreed upon coins—more than a fair price, by Navarre’s reckoning. He passed the coins to Terranis who stood and took one of Cera’s hands. “It appears you may be trapped here with me for a while longer,” the little man said pleasantly. “If you will wait a moment while I put these away, I can offer you some hot tea, or ale, if you prefer something stronger.”

Cera smiled. “Tea will be fine, thank you.”

Terranis bowed over her hand.

Movement caught Navarre’s eye and he stepped forward instantly, his hand catching the heavy medallion that had slipped from beneath Terranis’ shirt when he bowed and was swinging in an arc toward Cera’s face. A flash of lighting and crack of thunder froze everyone in their place and Cera and Navarre stared at the rearing horse on the red and gold disk that Navarre held in his palm.

Terranis tried to stand up and had to stop when Navarre’s hand tightened on the disk. The warrior quickly flipped it over with his thumb and froze again when he saw the apple tree, a scratch running across one branch. His breath must have caught because both Cera and the little man glanced up at him. Terranis’ guard stepped forward, one hand on the hilt of his sword, though a wave of his employer’s hand stayed the weapon.

Terranis turned a frowning look on Cera and cleared his throat. “I assure you there was no injury intended, my dear. The necklace is new and I am not yet used to its weight.”

Cera blinked, finally taking her eyes from both Navarre and the disk, and looked up at Terranis. Navarre saw her try to smile. “Of course not,” she said.

She reached out a none too steady hand and took the Red-Horse medallion from Navarre’s hand and handed it back to Terranis who held it thoughtfully as he straightened, rubbing the disk in his fingers.

“You recognize this,” Terranis said, his words more a statement than question.

“My…my father does business with the caravans of the Eastern Enclave from time to time. The medallion you have is from a caravan called the Red-Horse.”

“Ah-ha,” said the little man, “so that is where he got it from.”

“Please, Lord Terranis, if you would not mind, could you tell me how you came by the medallion.” Her voice had started out shaky, but Navarre heard it grow stronger. She was even able to laugh a little. “I only ask because I tried to get a caravanner to sell me hers once but she refused. Not one of those,” she waved her hand in dismissal toward Terranis medallion as if it were a worthless babble, “but a pretty blue and silver one.”

Terranis held Cera’s gaze a moment then glanced up at him. Navarre thought that the little man might refuse Cera’s request so he forced himself to look away from Terranis’ eyes first, something he would never have done had he and Cera not needed to know what he knew. From the corner of his eye he saw Terranis give a little shrug.

“I purchased this just yesterday from a man seeking passage down from the cliff.”

“Really, how sad,” Cera said shaking her head.

“How so?” asked Terranis, evidently intrigued.

“Because I know a bit about caravanners, from my father, you see. They get these little trinkets when they are children and wear them as long as they are members of the caravan. There’s a ceremony when a child turns fourteen, I think, when they exchange their small childhood medallion for a larger, adult one. The only time I’ve heard of someone going without their medallion is if it is taken from them during a banishment ceremony. That’s why they never sell them.”

“Interesting.” Terranis held his medallion toward a lamp and turned the winking disk back and forth, looking from horse to tree.

Cera glanced up at Navarre before she spoke again. “I…I’ve seen several medallions before. That one is definitely a child’s medallion.”

Navarre saw Terranis start and look at Cera almost angrily.

“Yes,” she said with a little sigh, “it would probably be worth more to a collector if it was an adult medallion.” She ignored Terranis’ frowning look and gave him one of her own, crossing her arms and tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I hope the man who sold it to you did not tell you it was an adult medallion. That would have been very dishonest of him.”

“No,” said Terranis slowly, “he did not.” Navarre smiled to himself as the little man lifted the medallions’ chain over his head, trying to make it look like he did so in an effort to get the disk in a better position near the lamp. Clever Cera, Navarre thought, and smiled again when Terranis stepped away from the lamp and gathered the chain in his hand with the disk. “Though now that you mention it I do recall that he may have had a child in the party he brought down with him.” He called suddenly to the man behind the tall desk. “Alverti check the book please.”

Terranis slipped the necklace into his coat pocket and walked around the table. Navarre caught Cera’s eye and the two of them followed him. They waited, the wind whistling outside, though the beat of the rain appeared to have lessened considerably.

Alverti finally nodded his head. “Yes, it is as you said, Lord Terranis, four men and one boy.” The clerk looked down at them and sniffed. “We do not normally require names but the man who sold you the necklace and paid the passage fees insisted that I record it.”

“Yes, I remember now,” said Terranis sourly, “the very arrogant fellow.” He gave a short laugh. “It was a good thing for him that I did not meet him before he paid, or ‘Master’ Trammel and his party would have found themselves waiting at the top of the cliff a very long time indeed. We still need to work on a way around that problem.” Terranis looked up at Alverti thereby missing Cera’s shudder. She swayed a moment, her hands clenched at her side and Navarre took a step closer and dared to lay a hand lightly against her back.

She stiffened, as he had known she would, and when Terranis turned back to them she was once more in control. “Ah, well,” said the little man, unaware of the turmoil and the drastic change of plans his revelations of the past few minutes had caused, “even I can hardly be in two places at once.”

Cera gave a strained little laugh. “Nonsense, Lord Terranis, I have all faith that even you will one day be able to accomplish such a feat.”

“You are too kind,” Terranis said with another bow. “Now about that tea…”

He broke off as Navarre leaned down and whispered into Cera’s ear. She widened her eyes as if recalling something important and looked at Terranis with regret. “Forgive me, but I have been reminded that my presence is required at the stable. I have an injured horse that will let no one else near him except me.”

“But the storm…”

Cera cocked her head to the side as if listening even as Navarre moved to door. “It has let up enough, I think, for us to make it to the stable without the fear of drowning with each breath.”

Navarre opened the door, and the wind that blew in was still strong, though a mere breeze compared to its earlier strength.

Terranis shrugged one shoulder. “I see that I can not change your mind, though perhaps you can join me later.”

Cera smiled at the little man as she moved to the door. “I can’t promise anything for today, though I have no doubt that we may see each other in the morning. I do not foresee making the climb up before noon.”

“Until then,” he called, as Cera stepped though the door ahead of Navarre. The warrior stopped her before she could step out from under the building’s overhung roof, and unfastening his cloak, swung it around the girl’s shoulders. He waited as she adjusted its folds, pulling it up over her head, the extra cloth bunched across her shoulders. Behind him, through the still open door, Navarre heard Terranis speaking to his assistant. “Toss these into the strong box.” Coins chinked and there was a short pause before he spoke again. “This too…”

Lightening flashed and gave Navarre an excuse to glance around. He saw Terranis pass the Red-Horse medallion—Ulan’s medallion—to Alverti who dangled the disk over the top of the desk. When he let the chain go, the necklace disappeared into the desk and Navarre heard it join the coins already inside just before the thunder rolled over the canyon.

To The Top | Back To The Measure of a Queen

COPYRIGHT © 2008 KATHY LANE
KYRLANE AT HOTMAIL DOT COM