Magic Casement Read Free Page B

pike at the challenge position.
    “How
long did you see me?” Inos asked. He could not be so very many years
older than she was. She could not recall any minstrel so young. Perhaps he had
been an apprentice accompanying his master.
    He
smiled vaguely at her and turned to Rap. “Harps are heavy. “ He
pulled a pipe from a pocket in his cloak and played a trill.
    “Do
you sing, too?” Rap was still suspicious.
    “Not
at the same time,” Jalon said solemnly.
    This
time the snigger escaped completely, and Rap shot Inos a murderous glare from
the corner of his eye.
    Jalon
did not seem very worried by the pike. “But I do play the harp and there
used to be a good one on the mantel in the hall, so I can borrow that again, I’m
sure.” He did not seem as if he would be very worried by anything at
all-and there certainly was a harp on the mantel.
    “Wait
here!” Rap put his pike over his shoulder rather clumsily and swung
around, stamping his boots and apparently headed for the guard room.
    That
would not do at all! Inos did not want Sergeant Thosolin, and perhaps others,
coming out and seeing her wandering unaccompanied, carrying home her own
purchases. “Rap? Should you go off and leave me helpless with this
dangerous stranger?” Rap stopped and spun around, almost grinding his
teeth.
    “And
the castle!” she exclaimed. “What if a troll comes, or a griffon?
And you’re not here to guard us! “
    “You
come with me, then!” He was quite furious now.
    “No!
“ Inos said. “I think you should take Master Jalon to the guard
room with you if you think he is dangerous. You are welcome in my father’s
house, minstrel.” That sounded very gracious and regal.
    The
stranger smiled and bowed to her again. He strolled toward the guard room with
Rap. Inos lingered for a moment, then slipped through the archway, unobserved
and very satisfied.
    Like
the town itself, the castle was all up and down, and she was soon puffing again
as she hurried up the endless steps toward her chamber. Halfway there she met
old Kondoral, the seneschal, picking his way carefully down an especially dark
staircase. He was small and stooped and white-haired, with gray, withered skin
and eyes so rheumy that she did not like to look at them... but quite a
pleasant old relic when he did not talk your ears numb. His memory for recent
events was failing. He repeated the same stories endlessly, yet he could
remember the remote past quite well.
    “Good
day to you, Master Kondoral,” she said, stopping.
    He
peered down at her for a moment, clutching the rail. “And to you,
Highness.” He sounded surprised, as if he had expected someone much
younger.
    “Do
you know a minstrel called Jalon?” Inos was still bothered by her
inability to recall that polite young man. Minstrels came but rarely to remote
Krasnegar.
    “Jalon?”
Kondoral frowned and pulled his lip. “Why, yes, my lady! A very fine
troubadour.” The old man beamed. “Is he come here again?”
    “He
is,” she said crossly. “I don’t remember him,”
    “Oh,
no, you wouldn’t.” The old man shook his head. “Dear me, no.
It has been many years! But that is good news. We shall hear some fine singing
from Master Jalon if his voice has not lost its thrill. I remember how he
brought tears to all our eyes when he sang `The Maiden and the Dragon’--”
    “He
doesn’t look very old,” she said quickly. “Not much older
than me.” Well, not very much.
    Kondoral
shook his head again, looking doubtful. “I can recall hearing tell of him
when I was young myself, my lady. This must be a son, then, or grandson? “
    “Perhaps!”
she said, and dodged quickly by, before he could start reminiscing.
    Several
staircases later she reached her summer chamber, at the top of one of the
shorter spires. She had taken it over the previous year and loved it, although
it was much too cold to use in winter. It was circular and bright, with walls
so low so that the high conical ceiling swooped