Once Upon a Castle - Jill Gregory [136]
A hush fell over the room. All had heard of the magical Andun Crystal, but few had seen it. Its shape did indeed suggest the dragon that was emblem of the ruling house; yet after all the legends of its powers, there was general disappointment among the crowd. They had expected to see and feel a special presence, an aura of potent magic.
A new heaviness came over those who had hoped to overthrow the tyrant. Once he learned to harness the crystal’s energy, Lector would be able to destroy any who opposed him with no more than a thought. The House of Varro was dead and vanquished, and hope was dead with it.
Now the House of Lector would reign supreme.
Two rodents huddled beneath the tapestry in the minstrel’s gallery, watching the scene below. Servants scurried to and fro with salvers of succulent food. Illusius twitched his tail from side to side. “I don’t see what Myrriden expects us to do. I…I’ve tried to run a few spells. They didn’t work.”
Niniane rubbed her pink paws together. “I know,” she said gloomily. “Mine don’t work, either. There was a time when I just wanted to pass my sorcerer’s examination. Now I just wish we could save our poor mortals. Tressalara and Cador have never been in more danger.”
Illusius sat up and sniffed the air. “I have an idea. A marvelous idea.”
“You do?” she squeaked hopefully.
“Yes.” Sniff, sniff. His furry body quivered with excitement. “Let’s sneak down there and get some of that cheese, before they eat it all up.”
“Cheese? Cheese?” Niniane sat up and nipped him on the nose.
Lector signaled for the musicians to begin playing. Beneath the song of harp and flute there was much mumbling and whispering during the feast. Although the princess seemed cool and remote, a strange light shone in her dark-fringed amethyst eyes. She looked vaguely out at the assembled company and gestured oddly in the vicinity of her wine cup.
“See how strangely the princess moves,” a thin woman in a spangled headpiece said to her spouse. “Has she drunk too deeply of the wine?”
“Nay, ‘tis foul witchcraft,” an elderly knight said with more passion than wisdom. “It is plain to see that Lector and his evil sorcerer have put a spell upon her. The day he took power was a black day for Amelonia!”
A pool of silence surrounded the man, and his neighbors pulled away. Others stared fixedly at their plates. A man with drink-reddened cheeks jumped to his feet. “This man speaks treason!”
“Seize him!” Lector pushed back his chair and rose, scattering goblets and spilling wine down the table like ribbons of blood. Instantly several of Lector’s men-at-arms stepped in with drawn swords. The unfortunate who had spoken out was dragged to the dais and thrown on the floor before Lector.
Elani stepped back quickly and collided with a servant carrying a silver charger filled with hot food. The tray tipped, scattering sliced beef and venison everywhere. Lector cursed as hot gravy splashed across him in an arc. Simultaneously, Tressalara jumped up with more alertness than might have been expected, given her earlier dazed appearance. Her long cape caught on the carved whorls of the other chair, and she grasped at the chiseled dragon’s head to keep from falling.
Lady Grette rushed to help her mistress, while a steward helped Lector wipe away the gravy. At the same moment the serving woman and Elani tangled and went down in a heap. Somehow the brocade table runner came with them, pulling trenchers, goblets, and bowls off as well. Thuds and the tinkle of breaking glass filled the air.
In the confusion that followed, Tressalara’s smaller chair was overturned. Servants scurried to repair the damage, but Lady Grette waved them back. The other guests watched the farce, too afraid of their host even to crack a smile. Chaos reigned for several minutes before