The Shining Falcon

«I see.» Yelenko glanced up again at his prince for instructions. Svyatoslav gave a sharp little hand signal, and Yelenko nodded obediently. «Bring forth the witnesses.»

As Danilo watched in disbelief, he saw some of his own servants brought forward, those Who'd been with him in the palace that day. They bowed timidly to the prince, then stood looking uneasily about, giving Danilo quick, nervous glances.

«Are you prepared to swear by Holy Word that what you say is truth?» asked Yelenko.

«Uh, yes, my lord.»

«Fine. Your master is Danilo Yaroslavovich?»

«Uh… yes, my lord.»

«Don't be afraid. You are not on trial. Merely answer my questions. You saw him meet with the boyar Alexei?»

«Well, yes, my lord," began Misha. «But—but he didn't exactly meet with the boyar, the boyar met with him, if you get my meaning — "

«Just answer the question. Did you see him meet with the boyar Alexei?»

Misha subsided. «Yes, my lord.»

«Did you hear words exchanged?»

«Yes, my lord.»

«But your master realized you were listening? What did he do then?»

«He—took the boyar by the arm and pulled him into an alcove.»

«Ah. And did this sudden urge for privacy seem odd to you?»

They stared at him blankly. Yelenko sighed. «Did your master often have secret meetings?»

«Oh, no, my lord!»

«But he did, indeed, hold a secret discussion with the boyar Alexei?»

«Well…»

«Answer my question! Did your master hold a secret discussion with Alexei Sergeovich?»

The servants stirred uneasily. «Yes, my lord," they muttered at last.

«But—but this is nothing!» cut in Danilo. «Please, my Prince, let me finish. Alexei and I did talk, but it was only about his position at court. Prince Rostislav's name was never mentioned, I swear it! I've served you loyally and faithfully these many years; there's no proof — "

«No proof?» Svyatoslav spoke for the first time, eyes like stone. «Bring forth the evidence. Let the traitor read his guilt in his own words!»

Danilo stared in growing horror at letter after letter, all in his handwriting, all addressed to the exiled prince, all offering terms of comfort, of aid. All saying, in no uncertain terms, words of treason.

«But I never wrote these — " The letters fell from nerve less hands. «I never… My God, I'll swear to that or whatever holy objects you name! I never wrote these letters! I am innocent!»

«Liar!» Svyatoslav's voice shook with passion. «I thought you, of all my boyars, would never betray me— Traitor!»

Danilo, drowning in shock, cried, «At least grant me the right of trial by ordeal!»

«No! You shall die, and your treason with you!» Overwhelmed by the force of his outrage, the prince fiercely waved Yelenko aside. «Hear my decree: Danilo Yaroslavovich, you are declared traitor to the crown. Your lands and estate are hereby forfeit, and shall descend to my loyal servant, Alexei Sergeovich, who has shown himself by his actions this day worthy of pardon for any previous misdeeds. And you, Danilo Yaroslavovich, shall have two days' grace in which to repent, and then, as befits your rank and crime, you shall die by the axe!»

«My children!» cried Danilo in anguish. «What of my daughters?»

The pain blazing in that cry cut through the fog of Svyatoslav's rage. He hesitated, said gruffly, «I will not make war upon young women. They shall, by my royal mercy, become my wards," then shouted, «Enough! Guards! Take this traitor away!»

Maria slumped in her chair, too drained by the day's events to even weep. First had come the news of her father's arrest, then she and Vasilissa had been virtually dragged here to the palace, to this suite that, for all its comfort, was still all too plainly a prison.

And we've only two days before father… dies. What are we going to do?

Vasilissa would be of little help. As though there hadn't been enough shocks, Afron and his father had come to visit shortly after their arrival. The red-faced, embarrassed young man had torn free of Lissa's frantic embrace and, with quick, nervous glances at his cold-eyed father for approval, had told her bluntly that he didn't love her, that he'd never loved her. The truth of the whole thing was, of course, that his father had broken the betrothal out of fear of being linked with a man the prince had named traitor. But for Lissa it had simply been one shock too many. Now she huddled in bed, seeing nothing, saying nothing.

Did they have to be so cruel? Maria asked herself. They know Father's no traitor! Those letters were forgeries, they had to be forgeries!

If only she could find a way to see the prince, to plead her father's case with him. But Svyatoslav considered women, particularly young women, little more than fools, hardly worthy of notice. And he'd flatly refused to grant Maria any sort of interview before the week's end, four days away. By that point, of course, it would be far too late.