The Shining Falcon

«Liar!» cried Svyatoslav fiercely. «Guards! Take this fool away and have him put to the question!»

That, of course, meant torture. Finist saw the forger pale, and heard him mutter to himself, «I don't owe him any loyalty.» The little man straightened with a sort of desperate, almost hopeless courage. «My Prince, will you spare me if I confess?»

Svyatoslav paused only a moment, then he nodded. «I will. Speak, and you will not be harmed. Who hired you?» The forger hesitated, licking his lips nervously. Then he burst out: «It was Alexei Sergeovich! Boyar Alexei ordered me to write those documents!»

Sleepy, bewildered, frightened, the dazed young boyar had been virtually dragged before the royal presence. Finist looked at him thoughtfully, wondering, because Alexei already looked lost, drawn and wan, and this was even before he'd heard the charges brought against him. So-o, thought Finist, I wasn't wasting my time in visiting you! You do, indeed, seem to have some manner of conscience, Alexei.

«Alexei Sergeovich," Svyatoslav began, «you come before us accused of perjury and the attempt to see an innocent man slain for your profit. Do you confess your guilt?»

A man's own conscience could be a crueler tormentor than any executioner. Without the weight of his newly realized guilt, Alexei, Finist suspected, might have been smooth-tongued and cunning enough to clear himself. But now, off balance, still confused by his sudden awakening, the young boyar hadn't the slightest chance. Instead of framing some clever, ambiguous reply, Alexei stammered, «No, I—I didn't— Those letters — " He lunged blindly at the cringing forger. «You betrayed me! Damn you — "

«Oh, no, Alexei Sergeovich," said Svyatoslav softly, «I think this time you are the one to be damned.» And as the young man froze, staring, stunned at the realization that he had just admitted his own guilt, the prince continued, voice trembling with rage, «I cannot punish you as I would. What you've done is not, strictly speaking, treason against the crown. But I will not have such—such foulness as you in my lands, either! Alexei Sergeovich, hear my decree:

«Within three days, you must be clear of those lands, alone and friendless. May every man's hand be turned against you! And should you be found within the boundaries of Stargorod once the three days are past, your life shall be the price!»

And so, thought Finist, refusing to feel the slightest pity, farewell, Alexei.

Now came the pardon for Maria's father, that the boyar Danilo Yaroslavovich «be restored, without penalty or fault, to all his former rights, rank and privileges.»

Well and good, thought Finist, that's settled. But he couldn't return to Kirtesk, not yet. There was still one matter to be finished.

And so, when Svyatoslav at last returned, alone, to his royal bedchamber, he found Finist standing there, waiting. But before the younger prince could say anything reassuring, he saw, to his disgust, that Svyatoslav was tensing, going on his guard once more.

«Prince Svyatoslav, please. I'm not here to attack you, or carry you off or steal away your soul! I am here to tell you where to find boyar Danilo. Or were you planning to simply search blindly for the man?»

Svyatoslav, embarrassed, shot him an angry glance. «All right, then, where is he?»

«In the forest, where— Now what is it?» The other's eyes had gone wild with alarm. «Is that it? Are you in league with the forest?»

«What?» Finist suddenly remembered the leshy, and the armored men, the mysterious hunters. «They were your men, then," he murmured; then, seeing Svyatoslav stare, hastily added, «No, I am not in league with the forest, or those who dwell within it. But I do know something about them. And I promise you this, if your men enter the forest in peace, the forest shall not harm them. Now, let me give you proper directions…»

When the messengers of Prince Svyatoslav rode, uneasy, into the forest, they were met by a stranger in an ugly deerskin robe, an amber-eyed stranger who bowed, polite as any wary peasant, and pointed the way to Danilo's farm. Watching those royal messengers ride away, Finist smiled.

Now they can't possibly miss the way. And his smile broadened a bit at me thought of the joy to come to Maria and her family. Soon they would be safe and honored and free.

If only he could be part of that joy…

Oh, nonsense. He had his own life and duties. This was nothing, the settling of a debt, that was all. Love—no, it was just gratitude.

Then why couldn't he believe himself? Confused, Finist searched till he found a small, still forest pool. Quickly the prince focused his will, fighting aside emotion; quickly he made the proper gestures, said the proper words, and watched his reflection mist and fade. The mist began to clear, obedient to his wish, and…