The Shining Falcon

Chapter XXI Resolutions

It was a mild spring day, and she'd taken her mending outside, meaning to do her sewing by sunlight. But for some time now, Maria had been sitting, simply sitting, staring moodily off into space.

Finn, akh, Finn … She couldn't believe the ridiculous things Lissa had been saying about him. But why had he left them so suddenly, without so much as a good-by? Even to me?

Maria hurried over that last, over the silly hurt; of course she'd been nothing to him, no more than his nurse, no more than he'd been anything to her! A nameless wanderer; she should be ashamed of herself for even considering-Enough of this! There was work to be done. And yet, why had he left so abruptly? And for that matter, how had he managed to leave so abruptly? Maria sighed, bending over her mending, determined not to think about it any longer.

Until now, the forest birds had been chirping, there'd been the normal little rustlings of creatures in the underbrush. But suddenly the forest fell into so abrupt a silence that Maria looked up again, heart pounding, listening intently.

And then she heard the invading sound of hoofbeats. Maria sprang to her feet, letting the mending fall, unheeded, to the ground.

'Father!

«Father," she called, then more fiercely, Come here! Hurry!»

It was a troop of soldiers come riding up. Prince Svyatoslav had finally found them.

«… and I must admit you gave me quite a fright," Danilo said, smiling, to the captain of Svyatoslav's guard. The man grinned in return.

«You gave me a bit of a fright, too, boyar Danilo, standing there with that axe. Thought you were going to take off my head before I could give you the good news!»

«Is it true?» breathed Vasilissa. «The pardon‑is it really… ?»

«Quite true, boyarevna. " The captain glanced about, plainly trying not to show his embarrassment at the poverty all around him. «The boyar Danilo Yaroslavovich is to return to take his rightful place as counselor to our Prince as soon as he is able.»

Danilo snorted. «Which is, as I'm sure my daughters will agree, today!»

But Maria hesitated. «Please, tell me this: how did you find us?»

«Well, our Prince gave us directions. But we were pointed onto the shortest way by some peasant or other.»

«A peasant?»

«A man in a crudely made deerskin caftan.»

Maria exchanged a startled glance with her father. «Finn?» she asked. «But how could he have known… ?»

Her father waved her to silence, and got down to business with the messengers, checking the condition of his estate, of his status, pleased to hear that Alexei hadn't quite managed to deplete his finances. «It sounds as though it won't take much to make everything quite liveable again.»

«No, boyar, I would think not. And Prince Svyatoslav does expect you back in Stargorod as soon as possible.»

«Yes," said Danilo.

«No," said Vasilissa, and when everyone turned to look at her in surprise, she repeated, quite calmly, «No. Don't you see? We have already lived in enough shame. To go back now, dressed as peasants, sitting on horses behind common guards—we cannot accept that. Good Captain, we shall wait here till all is ready for us. And then we shall return to Stargorod not as beggars trying to steal into the city, but as noble folk properly clad, in a proper carriage, in proper style.»

And, while her father and sister stared at her, amazed at this longest coherent speech she'd made in some time, Vasilissa smiled at them and gave a little sigh of delicious anticipation.

Ljuba awoke with a start, looking up to find her maid, Anya, standing over her, a worried expression on her face. Ljuba frowned, puzzled, looking around. She was in her bed, with no memory of having come here!

«What is this? What's going on?»

«Ah… you've been asleep, Mistress.»

«I gathered that! How long?»

«Well… you did wake, or almost wake, a few times, enough to take some water and then some soup. You don't remember?»

Ljuba shook her head impatiently. «How long? Altogether.»

«Nearly five days, Mistress.»

Ljuba stared up at her in sheer disbelief. But the look of stupid honesty on that bovine face just couldn't have been feigned. And Ljuba had to admit she did feel amazingly drained. But why… ?

And then memory returned with a rush:

How long had she been staring like this into her mirror? Ljuba had long since lost track of time. But it didn't matter, because at last she'd located Finist‑in Stargorod, of all places.

And though the image was dim and uncertain, she watched while the prince paid his visits to Alexei and Prince Svyatoslav, while one boyar was condemned and another reprieved, she watched in complete bewilderment.

Why should Finist care what happens to a man who isn't even of his court? She couldn't, for a moment, accept that someone would go so far out of his way just to satisfy an urge for justice. Some sense of obligation? Or is it more?

Her head was beginning to ache fiercely now, her muscles to cramp. Ljuba knew there was a danger in spending too much time mirror-gazing, the danger that she might lose herself in visions, separate mind from body; it could happen to someone like her, someone without the strength of sufficient innate magic. But what was Finist about? It must be very important; he was too conscientious to leave his people so long for anything else.

And Ljuba persevered. She saw, through a haze of forest‑magic, the faintest image cast in a small, still pool: the image of an ordinary, plainly clad, brown-haired young woman. And, just for an instant, she saw, or thought she saw, a look of despair cross Finist's face.

I don't believe it. He's become infatuated with some dirty little peasant girl!

It struck her as funny, so ridiculously funny that laughter burst out before she could stop herself. With her loss of control, the mirror‑image that she'd labored so hard to achieve wavered, then slipped out of existence. Choking on her laughs, Ljuba let out a strangled oath instead, and set wearily about trying to establish the image once more. But this time there was nothing, nothing…

Ljuba sighed, staring up at the canopy of her bed. Five days. Five lost days of semiconsciousness. God! But magic did have its price, and that collapse was the price she'd had to pay for exhausting herself at her mirror.

But then, remembering, Ljuba tensed. «Has there been any word from the prince?»

«There has, indeed," said a sudden voice.

«Finist! Cousin, I — "

He gestured to Anya. «Leave us.» As the servant hurried to obey, he turned to Ljuba, face impassive. «You shouldn't try to spy on me, cousin. It's too exhausting for you.»

Ljuba didn't like that note of disinterested coolness in his voice. In almost unthinking response, she moved subtly in her bed so that the blankets molded themselves interestingly about her body, and let them slip, ever so slightly, back from one smooth, bare shoulder «I worry about you, cousin.»

«Thoughtful.» He reached down and calmly pulled the blankets back into place. «But totally unnecessary. I'm quite myself again, cousin. And I intend to stay that way. Good day to you.»

With that, he was gone, and Ljuba was left staring. «My God,«she said fervently, «it isn't infatuation at all! Finist is actually in love with that little peasant slut!»

But such an outrageous situation wouldn't—couldn't— last for long. And Ljuba would be ready to… console him.