The Shining Falcon

«My lord?» It was one of the guards. «My lord, should we go after them?»

«No, you fool! Leave me.»

«But — "

«Leave me!»

The guard bowed, cringing from that cold, cold face, never guessing at the terror lurking behind the frozen facade or twisting at Alexei's bowels.

His creditors; his debts. The debts that now he could never hope to pay… Assuming those creditors let him live long enough to worry about it…

Oh, God!

How could things have gone so wrong? It had seemed such a simple, foolproof plan: frighten the girl, play the gallant rescuer, have her fall about his neck in gratitude… But she'd thrown him off balance right at the start by being so damnably clever about those leather boots— Why hadn't he remembered to warn his men not to wear them?

Yes, but even so, Maria had been weakening beneath his charm; he'd felt it. He should have been able to win her over quickly enough, with pleasure in the winning for both of them; clever creature though she was, she was still only a young woman, innocent in the ways of men. But‑dammit, how could things have gone so wrong?

I had her! I had her, and a way out of this mess, and I let her escape!

So what if the foolish thing had thought she wasn't willing? It would have been so simple, so easy—some quick, rough bed-sport (who knew? she might even have enjoyed it!), a few tears, and the girl would have agreed to wed him. She would have had to wed him, or have the whole city know she'd been ruined.

But he'd underestimated her and her nerve, there it was. He'd let her escape. Now she would go straight to Danilo. And that, realized Alexei in new horror, would be the end of everything.

Danilo again! Alexei bared his teeth in a hating grin, remembering all the years he'd needed to be humble to the man, all the years he'd forced himself to bow beneath that condescending kindness.

Danilo, always in his way. Proud Danilo, honorable Danilo‑Damn the man!

Alexei drew in his breath with a sharp hiss. All right, then. No more playing about. It would have been simpler, safer, to have married Maria, but there was still a way out. In his strongbox were certain letters, forged with care by a scribe who knew how to let himself be bought, and how to stay bought. They had cost Alexei a good deal of gold, those letters. But what price glory? Or his life?

It was a risky plan. It might not work, and failure might well mean his death.

And if he played the noble fool, and did nothing? Why, it was just a matter of which death he preferred: the mercifully swift axe of the headsman—or the clubs and daggers of his creditors: a dark alley, and pain, and himself left broken, to bleed out his life in the filth…

No, he mustn't think of that. He must think only of seeing himself elevated, and Danilo humbled! And old Svyatoslav was such a suspicious sort… Oh, it might work after all. It would work! And when it did, all hail Alexei—and farewell Danilo.

Chapter Ill The Wolf

Now, what good is it, thought Finist, to have oh-so-wondrous magical gifts if you can't use them to reshape this unwieldly monster of a throne?

It was a splendid thing up here on its high dais, too rich in history for him to dare any tampering. Cut from the trunk of some enormous dead tree about the time of the Pact, the throne had originally been left as plain wood, polished and covered with intricate carvings symbolizing forest, field and magic. But over the generations, changing tastes had seen it plated with gold, then enamelled, then encrusted with so many gems that it fairly blazed with light.

Unfortunately, the original carvers had had a ridiculous idea of royal grandeur, and the throne was for too wide; it was impossible for Finist to reach both armrests at the same time. The thing was also too deep for him to rest his back against its back without his feet dangling foolishly off the floor. And, thought the prince, it was damnably hard on the royal backside, even with a bulwark of cushions. The only way to get comfortable was to sprawl sideways. And that, Finist conceded with an inner grin, would hardly look regal.