Free Greyfax Grimwald by Niel Hancock Page B

mightiest King of Windameir, next servant to the King of All, and Bearer of the Golden Book in which all things that were or are or will be are written in a golden print that is in the eye of the beholder rather than on the page itself. This Master lived in regions far above, ana distant, and the journey there was indeed long, immeasurable in years or space, and although each living thing in the Nine Fields of Windameir had been in the presence of this sovereign lord at one time, few remembered it. Only the oldest and wisest remembered his name, and Lorini and all the other Masters only referred to him as the Starkeeper. Melodias, as well as all the rest, including Dorini, were sons and daughters of this sacred King, and spoke the true name of this King only in the mother tongue of Windameir, and none but the enlightened under stood its difficult and ancient manner.
    These thoughts ran through Froghorn’s head as he allowed Pe’lon to be taken to one of the many airy stables built for just such bearers as this. The young elf who led Pe’lon away immediately began a con versation with the horse, and the two, laughing and touching many subjects, disappeared into a high arched doorway, into a cool stable that smelled of li lac and fresh-mown hay, and Froghorn parted with his faithful companion for so long with a call of thanks in Pelon’s own speech.
    “Good rest, my faithful Pe’lon, and even the best; cannot reward you rightfully.”
    Pe’lon lifted a forehoof slightly and bowed graciously.
    “And to you, lightkeeper, deep sleep and a healing heart.”
    The elf, amazed at such talk, turned to Froghorn.
    “You speak very courteously, Master. It’s rare to find horse and rider so closely bound.”
    “It’s rare to find such a horse, or such a rider,” laughed Froghorn, and was gone, changed into the form of a sleek falconhawk, soaring up into the deep azure of the sun-bronzed sky. Higher and higher still he roamed, riding down the back of clouds and up light beams until he perched atop the crease of hori zon that enveloped all the fair kingdom of Lorini and beyond into the already dimming borders about it, until his sharp sight was clouded by the half darkness that covered that portion of the world. Looking down, and hearing a small, faraway voice, he saw a tiny white-clad figure waving to him from the turret of a tower shaped in the fashion of an im mense white turtle. Down he plunged, the soft wind against his wings, faster still, until the wind eased, and light and speed melted him into a beam of gentle sunlight. The figure lost sight of him, and cried aloud.
    “Oh, he’s gone.”
    No sooner had she spoken than a tall, handsome courtier, in fine silks and velvet, with a splash of lace at his throat, approached her from behind.
    “My lady Cybelle, fairest sight that eyes might hold, dearest heart of all that yet live,” and the grand vision of the courtier took the shape of a shining sil ver dove. ‘Tour most faithful servant, Faragon Fairingay, begs your command.”
    The dove flew to a perch beside the young woman. Her hair was of a yellow gold mist, burnished like finespun copper, and her face was fairer than Frog horn remembered. He had seen her last quite a long time ago, but she seemed not to age, nor to change. Her blue-gray eyes still laughed gaily, and her mouth formed an almost eternal readiness of a smile that revealed straight, even white teeth. the smile broke now, followed by a lilting laugh.
    “My dearest Fairingay, you are come, after all I’ve been so frightfully bored lately. I do hope you have some new ran for me.”
    “Dear lady, I’ve traveled far and wide searching for tricks to amuse and bewilder you, but first I must see your mother, if that be possible.”
    “Mother always looks forward to your coming. She’s downstairs now awaiting you. We saw you cross our borders ages ago.”
    “Then I must go to her at once.”
    He turned to leave, then looked again at her shining form. “I