As Hiram approached the bend in the road, he heard a call for help.  He spurred Storm to a gallop, and as he rounded the bend he spotted a trio of highwaymen robbing a lone traveler. 
“Help!  They’re going to rob me and kill me,” the victim shouted.  He was a short, portly man, clumsily  brandishing a sword.  He was no match for the three robbers, all tall, husky men also armed with swords, and obviously toying with the man.
Hiram drew his sword as he sped toward the scene.  The robbers, upon seeing him coming, hurriedly mounted their horses and sped away.
“Cowards!” The short man shouted at them as they fled.  “You haven’t the stomach to fight two of us.”
Hiram dismounted.  The man came up to him and offered his hand.  “Thank you, kind sir.  Those ruffians would  surely have killed me.  I’m Lester, merchant of Essex Village.”
“Hiram of Dare, courier for His Royal Majesty.  It was a stroke of good luck that I arrived here when I did.  Where might you be going?”
“I’m on my way to attend my Uncle’s funeral in Kinston.  I could tell by your attire and bearing that you are a gentleman skilled in the warrior arts.  No doubt those ruffians sensed it, too.  I take it you are on a mission for His Majesty?”
“Nothing of vital importance.  I’m delivering a necklace--a gift to the princess from her betrothed, The Duke of Edson.”  Hiram unconsciously patted the leather pouch on his belt.
Lester’s eyes dropped to the pouch and lingered there for a moment.   “Yes, I’ve heard of the betrothal.  A fine couple.  Master Hiram, you have saved my life.  I have nothing to offer you but a cheap bauble.  I hope that you will accept it along with my undying gratitude.”
“Your gratitude is enough.  I ask no payment.”
Lester pulled a ring from his finger.  “It is a tradition among my clan to show gratitude with a gift.  Please.  I will be dishonored if you refuse to accept it”
Hiram accepted the ring and examined it.  The ring appeared to be of gold, set with a black, star-shaped onyx. Not overly valuable, he surmised, but it surely was not a “cheap bauble.”    Something about the ring tugged at his memory.  He puzzled over it for a moment, and then slipped the ring on his left middle finger.  It fit perfectly.
He thanked the man, and soon thereafter the two men parted and went their separate ways.

In retrospect, he thought it strange that the three robbers had fled so quickly.  Indeed, there seemed to be something peculiar about the whole affair. 
It had been a mistake, he knew, to mention to Lester that he was carrying the duke’s gift.  Lester had seemed innocent, but he remembered the look in the little man’s eyes when the necklace was mentioned. 
And the ring still puzzled him.  He was sure he had heard of such a ring before.  But he soon forgot it, and his mind drifted to other thoughts.
He made it to the village of Greenwood just before dark.  He found an Inn and left Storm in the stable. He arranged for a room for the night and then ordered a meal.
During the meal, his mind once again dwelled on the ring.  The more he thought about it, the more he was certain that the ring was associated with something mystic, or magical. 
He called for ale, and a barmaid brought a tankard to his table.  “Excuse me,” he said.  “May I ask you a question?”
She smiled prettily as she served his ale.  “Anything you wish, m’lord.”
He suddenly felt self-conscious.  His well tailored garb was now wrinkled and sweaty, his boots were dusty, and his normally well-trimmed beard was getting scraggly.  He returned her smile.  “I could think of several things.  But right now I’d like to know if there is an astrologer in the village.”
“We have no astrologer here,” she replied, “but there is a Gypsy fortune teller, Madam Rose, who is trusted by many.”
***
The following morning he paid a visit to Madame Rose.  He showed her the ring on his finger.  “Do you recognize this?” He asked.
She shrank back and gasped.  “The Black Star!  How did you come by this ring?”
He explained to her about his rescue of Lester, the merchant.
“The robbery was surely staged,” said Madam Rose.  “It was a ruse to trick you into accepting the Black Star.  I have heard of four highwaymen in these parts, and it is said that their leader is a short, stout man.”
“I don’t understand.  Why would he go to such lengths  to give me the ring?  Isn’t the ring supposed to bring good fortune to its owner?”
She looked at him sympathetically.  “I’m afraid the opposite is true.  The Black Star is cursed.  Whoever possesses it faces certain death.  Your only hope now is to get someone else to accept it.  And whoever accepts it must do so willingly.  There is only one other way that the curse will leave you.  If anyone should kill you, then the killer  will bring the curse upon himself.”
“Little consolation,” he said.  “Either way I die.”  But now he understood why Lester made certain that he accepted the ring.  And he also understood Lester’s  interest in the gift in his pouch.  A gift from a duke to a princess would certainly be valuable--a rich prize for a highwayman. 
“Someone else must have tricked Lester into accepting the ring,” he said.
“He probably gained it during a robbery, and later  learned of the curse,” she said.  The Gypsy went on.  “You must not force the ring on anyone, and you must not cast it away.  The curse will remain with you until someone willingly accepts the ring.”
“And if I can find no one who will accept it?”
“Whoever is in possession of the Black Star will die on the night that the moon is full,” she said.  “The moon will be full two nights hence.”
Hiram was silent for a moment.  “I’m not sure if all this is true,” he said, half to himself.  “But if it is, then I will have no time to deliver the gift to the princess.  The palace is four days travel from this village.  If only I had time to reach the palace, the Royal Astrologer might know how to deal with this curse.”
“Even the most powerful wizards have not found a way to deal with this curse,” said the Gypsy. 
“But my main concern now is to complete my mission,” he said, “and at least I may find a way to do that.  The next village, Greystone, is less than two days from here, and I have a friend there that I can trust to deliver the duke’s gift.”
“Greystone is not far,” she said.  “You should have  time enough to make it there if you leave today.  But is the gift you carry so precious that you are willing to forfeit your life?  I should think that you would, above all, seek a way to rid yourself of the accursed ring.”
“Nothing comes before my service to His Majesty.  And yes, the gift is valuable.  Yet, if I knew of a way to rid myself of this ring and still be able to complete my assigned task, I would do it.  But I fear that time is too short.”
The woman spoke low, almost in a whisper.  “Perhaps there is a way.  I know of a man who would deserve to possess the Black Star.  There is a greedy jeweler and pawn broker in our village named Bass.  He has brought misery to many because of his greed.”  She lowered her voice even more.  “He probably doesn’t know of the curse of the Black Star--not many people do.  Tell Bass that you are desperate for a little money, and offer him the ring for one or two royal credits.”
Hiram paid the Gypsy and left.  As he walked out the door, he spotted a man on the opposite side of the street.  The man turned his face away, but Hiram was sure he recognized him.  It was one of the men who was “robbing”  Lester.
Hiram followed the directions of the Gypsy to the Jeweler’s shop.  As he made his way along the street, he knew that he was being followed.  “Lester and his ruffians are probably trying to devise a way to get their hands on the gift I carry,” he thought.  He chuckled to himself.  “But they’ve a problem--not one of them would  risk killing me, lest he bring the curse upon himself.  They’re doubtless hoping that I’ll manage to get rid of the ring, and then kill me for the necklace.”
The Gypsy woman’s suggestion did not appeal to Hiram.  He was filled with revulsion at the thought of being responsible for another’s death without good cause.  He knew that if he transferred the curse to another, it would be on his conscience for the rest of his life.  Even the greedy jeweler.
The jeweler was a greedy, wicked man, but he probably would have siblings, parents, or perhaps a wife and children to mourn him. But Hiram wanted to make sure that the gift was delivered to the princess, and maybe he could use the jeweler’s greed to help achieve that goal.   
He entered the shop, showed his credentials with the king’s seal, and introduced himself as a royal courier.
He held out his hand, showing the ring.  “Do you recognize this ring?”
“I’ve never seen it,” said Bass, “but it is unusual.”
“I have come to make a bargain with you,” said Hiram.  He placed a ten-credit coin on the counter.  The jeweler’s eyes widened.
“There are more where this came from,” said Hiram, “if you complete your end of the bargain, I’ll see that get two more of these.”
***
He left the village early that afternoon.  He knew that Lester’s band hungered for the precious gift he carried.  He remained alert for an ambush.  He also made certain that the ring on his finger was visible, for they would not dare to make an attempt on his life as long as he possessed the ring.
He traveled through the rest of the day and all through the night, stopping only for brief rests, and to allow his horse to drink from streams. 
By midday of the next day, he was weary from his journey.  He dozed off several times and snapped awake expecting to find himself surrounded. But there had been no attempt to ambush him. 
By late afternoon, he came upon a wooded area.  He had traveled the road before, and knew that he would be nearing Greystone after passing through the woods.  But these woods were thick, and tree branches hung over the road in some stretches forming arcs.  It was as he went through one of these areas that he was ambushed.
From the corner of his eye, he saw movement above him, but it was too late.  A noose dropped around his body and tightened, effectively pinning his arms to his sides.  He felt himself pulled up, and abruptly Lester and two of his men rushed out from hiding.  One of the men slapped  Storm, causing the horse to bolt, leaving Hiram dangling about an arm’s length from the ground.  Storm galloped a short distance ahead and stopped.
The fourth man jumped down from the tree, landing in front of Hiram. 
“The pouch! Get the pouch, Jess,” shouted Lester.
Jess reached for the pouch, but Hiram lifted his legs and kicked, hitting the big man solidly in the chest with both feet.  Jess staggered back a few steps and fell. Hiram,  now swinging and spinning, was trying to work his arms free.  He managed to grasp the hilt of his sword with his right hand, but his arms remained pinned to his body.
While Hiram was concentrating on Jess, a second man rushed in and grabbed the spinning Hiram by the legs. 
 “Got him,” he shouted.  “Quick, grab the pouch.”
Jess rose up and immediately pulled his dagger.  “I’ll kill you for kickin’ me, turd.” 
Lester grabbed his arm.  “You fool!  He’s still wearing the ring.  Do you want the curse on you?”
Jess jerked the pouch from Hiram’s belt. “Consider yourself lucky, turd.”  Jess backed away and the other man released Hiram’s legs and joined his companions.
“For a Royal Courier you’re not very smart,” Lester sneered.  “You could have given the ring to a beggar.  Trying to sell it to the jeweler was foolish.”
Jess guffawed.  “I was spying on you, turd.  The jeweler told me that you tried to sell it, but he knew about the curse and sent you on your way.”  
    “Let’s get out of here before he works himself loose,” said Lester.  The three started out in the direction of Greenwood. 
“What if he trails us?” Said one of the men. 
“He won’t follow us,” said Lester.  “He will be in a hurry to reach his friend in Greystone--but I doubt he’ll make it in time.”
As the bandits pulled away, Hiram gave a shrill whistle.  Storm trotted up beside him. He threw one leg over the horse, and with a determined effort, pulled himself up and astride the animal.  The noose slackened, and he threw it off. 
But instead of setting out for Greystone, he stayed put and watched the four men as they were pulling away.  Suddenly, he heard Lester shriek and begin cursing.
Hiram laughed.  “What’s the matter, Lester?  Have you found something interesting in the pouch?”
“The ring!” Lester wailed.  “But it can’t be.  You’re wearing it.  I saw it on your finger!”
“What you saw on my finger is an imitation, fashioned by the jeweler in Greenwood.  It’s merely a brass ring set with a black wooden star.”
He spurred his horse and sped toward Greystone.  “Farewell,” he shouted.  “It’s not long ’til  moonrise.”
He glanced back to see them in pursuit.  But he was rapidly putting distance between them.  He knew that the nags they rode would have no chance of catching Storm.
If the four followed him to Greystone, in hopes that Lester might rid himself of the ring at the last moment, they risked being arrested.  For Hiram’s friend, the constable of Greystone, would have his men waiting for them.
Further, he had instructed the jeweler in Greenwood to alert the constable there to watch for the bandits.  And Hiram was confident that when Lester died, the three dull-witted ruffians would be caught easily.
And the necklace, the duke’s gift to the princess, was now safely tucked in a secret pouch on his saddlebag.
The sky was already darkening when he rode into Greystone.

   
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Carma gazed from her cottage window, she came to a decision.  She would leave the village forever.  Life in the village was becoming intolerable.  She was no longer invited to parties and dances.  Boys that used to flirt with her now shunned her, and the villagers treated her like an outcast.
Since the villagers learned that Carma was a mage--they called her a witch--they feared and mistrusted her.  But the villagers did not know that the Royal Council of Wizards had forbidden Carma from using her magic powers, and she was too proud to tell them--even if it meant that the villagers might accept her again.
As she looked from the window, she saw a carriage approaching.  Expecting the carriage to pass on by, she was surprised when it came to a stop in front of the cottage.  She didn’t notice the royal emblem displayed on the side until the carriage came to a complete halt.  The dogs started barking as the passenger stepped down from the carriage and walked toward the gate.
Her mother’s voice came from the kitchen.  “What’s all the fuss?  Who’s out there?”
“We have a visitor,” replied Carma, “from the palace.”
Her mother burst into the parlor, shedding her apron.  “By the Seven Spirits, Carma, you haven’t been trying to use your silly magic spells, have you?  If you’ve...”
“No, Mum, I’m not so foolish.”
The man reached the gate and stopped, held at bay by the two dogs.
“You keep out of sight,” said her mother.  “I’ll see what he wants.  Perhaps he merely seeks directions.”
She watched as her mother approached the stranger and hushed the dogs.  After a moment, her mother opened the gate and invited the man in.
Carma, dutifully keeping out of sight, hurried into the kitchen.  A moment later, however, her mother called to her, and she returned to the parlor.
“Master Harvin, this is my daughter, Carma.  Carma, Master Harvin wishes to speak with you.”
“Thank you Madam Lea.  Greetings, Maid Carma.”  He bowed.  “I bring a message from the Most High Grand Wizard, Glistan.  His Excellency wishes to discuss an urgent matter with you.  I have been instructed to bring you back with me, with your consent, of course.”
Carma knew that she had no choice--this was a command.  “I...of course.  When must I be ready?”
“I and the driver will spend the night at the village inn.  We will pick you up shortly after first light tomorrow morning.  We should arrive at the palace by early afternoon.”
Her mother spoke up.  “She isn’t suspected of disobeying...”
“No, Madam.  I can assure you that His Excellency wishes to see her on another matter entirely.”

That night Carma retired early.  But sleep didn’t come easily; her thoughts drifted back three years ago, to the first time she had appeared before Glistan and the Royal Council of Wizards.  But at that time, it had been at her own request.
At age fifteen, when she first became aware of her emerging mage powers, she petitioned the council for formal mage training.  Upon successful completion of the training program, she would be appointed as a probationary member of the council.  But like all petitioners, she was required to pass a series of tests before being accepted for training.
After enduring a week of grueling testing, she was called before Glistan.  His words still echoed in her mind.
“Carma Lea, your mage powers are strong--far above average, in fact.  You are intelligent and rational.  You show all the desired traits to become a council wizard.  Although your showing was most impressive, you were found to have one failing: your magic is wild.  Your spells are erratic.  A spell to induce joy may induce sorrow or some other emotion.  One of your spells to conjure an orange produced a deadly serpent.  Quite unnerving.  You also have difficulty in focusing your spells on a specific person or group; anyone near you may be affected.
“The council agrees that your wildness could be brought under control, but such training might demand more than threefold the normal period of one year.  That is deemed simply too much to invest in a single neophyte.”
Because her magic was wild, and potentially dangerous, she was fitted with a spell-nulling bracelet that neutralized her magic powers.
She drifted off to sleep wondering why on earth the Most High Grand Wizard wanted to see her--a reject.

Glistan peered at her from across the table.  The other five members sat at the table; all eyes were on her.
Glistan cleared his throat.  “Carma Lea, we have summoned you here to ask your service on a quest of rescue.”
“But why...”
Glistan held up his hand.  “Please wait until I have finished, then you may ask all the questions you wish.  The object of rescue is none other than Prince Vado himself. Last week, the prince went hunting in Blackwood Forest.  In pursuit of game, his party unwittingly crossed the border into Rhonian territory.  They immediately encountered a Rhonian patrol.  The rest of the party escaped and made it back to Ingrian territory, but the prince was knocked from his horse by a tree limb and was captured.  The Rhonians have demanded the disputed island of Oor as ransom. 
Rhonian wizards now have the prince completely hidden with their screening spells.  but we were fortunate to locate the prince with our gazing crystal before they tightened their spell.  They thought it clever to hide him in Grenwyl Castle, an unimportant castle in the village of Grenwyl.
“We know where he is,” Glistan continued, “but rescue will be a problem.  The queen will not send warriors for fear that the Rhonians might harm the prince.  Her Highness wisely favors a less obtrusive rescue attempt.  I considered sending a team of my wizards.  I have twenty-nine wizards on the council--five in the palace and twenty-four in outlying castles, but I can send none of them.”
Carma said nothing, but Glistan read the disbelief in her eyes.  “Yes, I know that may be hard for you to believe, but let me explain,” he said.  “Rhonian wizards know our wizards as well as we know theirs.  They would detect the residual spell-vibes resonating from our wizards from a mile away.  This might also endanger the prince.  You can see that sending a wizard would be unwise, except in your case, Carma.”
Carma started to protest, but held her tongue.
Glistan continued.  “You have not used your powers enough to have developed spell-vibes yet.  You could walk among the Rhonian wizards without being detected.  I suspect that another advantage might lie in your wild magic; they might have difficulty in dealing with that.”  He chuckled.  “Some of our wizards found themselves a little disquieted at times during your brief stay here.”
Glistan glanced around at the other members.  “Carma, you were rejected by those of us sitting here, and therefore it would be unseemly of me to command you to risk your life on such a dangerous quest.  But if you agree to go of your own free will, I will forthwith accept you as a neophyte council member.  If you are successful in your quest, we will train you for as long as it takes to bring your wildness under control.”  He paused to let that sink in.  “Do you have any questions?”
“What chance could I possibly have against the powerful wizards of Rhonia?  I haven’t learned to control my powers and have no formal training at all?”
“I thought I made it clear that those are the very reasons we believe that you have a chance to succeed.  But if you refuse, that is your right.”
Carma had failed once in her bid for formal mage training.  She would not lose this chance, even if it meant risking her life.  “I accept,” she said.  “I will go on the quest.”
Glistan nodded, smiled, and mumbled an incantation.  The spell-nulling bracelet slipped from her wrist and fell to the floor.  She felt her power returning.

Carma drove her carriage across the border into Rhonia,  immediately attracting the attention of three mounted border sentries.  As they drew near, she summoned a spell to induce confusion.  The spell worked on but one of the sentries; he frowned, dismounted, and  began wandering around aimlessly.  The other two sentries suddenly found themselves overcome with fear.  They spurred their horses, running away from some nameless terror.  Her magic was still wild, but effective nonetheless.
She knew that her spell would last long enough to put several hours behind her before the sentries recovered.  They would probably be unwilling to raise an alarm, for fear of ridicule.  Once she was far enough inside Rhonia, she would appear to be an ordinary traveler.
Glistan had told her that Grenwyl Castle was a full day’s ride from the border.  The road she traveled crossed open country; only an occasional farmhouse could be seen from the road. 
The sun was sinking as she approached the village of Grenwyl.  She pulled over to the side of the road, trying to give the appearance of a weary traveler stopping to rest.  She allowed her horse to drink from a shallow stream running beside the road and then fed the animal.
She ate a light meal of jerky and dried fruit, and then opened a valise containing a dance costume.  She decided to wait until after dark to carry out her plan.  The night would give her an advantage--like most mages she could see in the dark.  The sky was overcast, and that should make for a dark night.
If her plan went well, she should gain entry to the castle without using a spell.  True, she had no residual  spell-vibes that could be detected by Rhonian wizards, but this close to the castle a spell of any kind might be detected by them.  She would use magic only as a last resort.  Glistan had said that there was only one wizard assigned to Grenwyl, but cautioned her to expect at least one more to help guard the prince.

It was just past nightfall when she pulled up to the gate.  A lone, grizzled old sentry greeted her.  The Rhonians had not increased the guard--probably fearing that it would attract attention to the castle.  The guard held up his lamp and peered into the wagon.
“Now what brings a pretty young thing to the castle at this hour, may I ask?”
She gave him a smile.  “I am to dance at a dinner party for Lord...”  She grimaced.  “How stupid of me.  I can’t remember His Lordship’s name.”
He chuckled.  “That would be ol’ Lord Bolan.  Loves parties.  He left no word of entertainers...but then, he often forgets to notify the sentries of his activities.”  He shrugged, raised the bar, and waved her through.
She found her way to the tower.  She dismounted from the carriage and walked through the tower entrance.  She surprised the door sentry, who had apparently been dozing.  He jumped up from his chair. 
“You there!  Where do you think you’re going?”
She flashed a smile.  “I’m dancing at Lord Bolan’s party tonight.”
“You’ll not find him here.  My orders state that no one enters the tower.  No exceptions.”
The sentry was wearing his sword, but his cudgel was leaning against the wall next to his chair.  She noticed that he wore no helmet.
“I must have misunderstood,” she said.  “But I thought the party was at the tower.”
“Parties are held at the banquet hall over on the east side of the castle.  Ask the sentry over there for directions.”
“Thank you so much.”
As she turned to go, she dropped several coins on the floor.  “Oh dear me!”
As the sentry stooped to pick up the coins, she grabbed the cudgel and brought it down on his unhelmeted head.  He fell to the floor in a heap.  He would be out for a long while, she guessed.
She climbed the spiral stairway leading to the top of the tower.  At the top of the stairs, she encountered a heavy wooden door.  She paused a moment to catch her breath.  What would she do now?
She could summon a spell to unlock the door--such a spell would be too simple to go wild--but the magic might alert the wizards inside.  Her element of surprise--her only real advantage--would be gone. 
Perhaps if she spelled the door open and stormed in quickly enough, she might catch them off guard.  But how many were inside?  How quickly would they react?  She had to consider that there were at least two highly trained, experienced wizards on the other side of that door.
But what alternative did she have?  She certainly couldn’t knock, entreating them to open the door for her.  She decided to spell the lock open and rush in, hoping to catch them unprepared.
She reached for the door handle and nearly yelped in surprise when she discovered that the door wasn’t locked.  They obviously weren’t expecting a hostile visitor.  She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Two men and two women were sitting at a table playing a board game.  It was a wizard’s game, a contest requiring deep concentration.  The four wizards had been deeply immersed in the game when Carma entered.  To the rear of the room she saw a door with metal bars--probably the prince’s cell.
The wizards jumped up from their game and gaped at Carma.  They were startled, and Carma knew that she must act at once to take advantage of her unexpected entry.  She summoned the strongest sleep spell she could muster, praying that this time it wouldn’t go wild.
Not one of the wizards fell asleep.  They stared at her for a moment and then began laughing.  They pointed at her, laughing louder.  Had she been so inept that they were deriding her?  Had she bungled it so badly that they weren’t even trying to fight her?  But then she began to realize what had happened.
Her sleep spell had gone wild, becoming a spell of mirth instead.  The wizards had seen her sleep spell coming.  They instantly countered the sleep spell, only to find themselves under a spell of mirth instead.  This time her wild magic had saved her. 
The wizards were now pointing at each other , giggling, and doing little jigs.  They ignored Carma as she searched for the key to the prince’s cell.  She found it hanging on the wall.  She entered the cell to find the prince also giggling and singing a bawdy song.  She grabbed his hand and led him out past the giggling wizards.
Carma was weary.  She had used a great deal of energy spelling the wizards, and she needed time to restore that energy.  She prayed that she would not need to call another spell during their escape.  At best, her powers were erratic; she didn’t want to work magic in her weakened condition.
She led the prince, still singing his bawdy song, down the stairs and out of the tower.  She noticed that the door sentry was gone. 
As they left the tower, Carma discovered that she’d lost her advantage of night vision--the clouds had dispersed, and a bright full moon was lighting the night.  She started singing along with the prince, hoping that they would be taken as revelers from a party.
As she led the prince toward the carriage, she heard a commotion and turned to see a group of sentries running toward her.  She reached the carriage, but not in time.  One of the sentries grabbed the reins as the remaining six surrounded the carriage, swords drawn.
She recognized the tower door sentry as he stepped forward.  “You’ll pay for what you did to me wench.  Now step down from the carriage, both of you.”
She was now forced into a situation she’d hoped to avoid.  She felt drained, and knew that she needed more time to rest and restore her energy.  Casting a spell now might be harmful to her--maybe even fatal.  But she was left no choice; if she took no action she would die anyway.  She gathered her strength to try one more spell.  She elected to try a spell of confusion, a spell that required minimal effort. 
She was stronger than she thought.  But her spell of confusion went wild, breaking up into several different spells.  Two sentries fell asleep and four sentries threw themselves on the ground and began sobbing.  The door sentry found the scene before him to be hilarious and began shaking with laughter. The prince was still singing.
Carma shoved the prince into the carriage and climbed in after him.  Singing along with the prince, she drove the carriage toward the main gate.
The old gate sentry--not yet aware of what had taken place, laughed and waved them out.  She thanked the Seven Spirits; she wasn’t at all sure that she could have summoned another spell.

Several hours away from Grenwyl, the prince snapped out of the spell.  “What happened?  What are we doing here?  Who are you?”
She explained to him all that had happened.
“That was a very brave deed, and I am grateful--even if you did bespell me along with the wizards.”  He laughed, and then turned serious again.  “The wizards have probably organized pursuit by now, and we have a long way to go.  Can’t you get any more speed from that horse?”
“You needn’t worry, Your Highness.  Glistan has been waiting at the border with a force of mounted warriors and some of his wizards.  He has been watching the castle with his crystal ball.  Although a spell prevents him from seeing inside the castle, he can see the gate.  He was ready to cross the border the instant he saw us emerge from the gate.  We should meet up with our own forces before our pursuers catch up.”
As soon as they spotted the torches of the Ingrian forces, they looked back to see the torches of their pursuers.  But the Rhonians turned tail and raced back toward the castle when they saw the large force of Ingrians.

Glistan turned his horse over to Prince Vado, so that the young prince could lead the expedition back into Ingria.  The wizard chose to ride in the carriage with Carma.
Carma related to him all that had taken place at Grenwyl.  “My worst moment,” she told him, “was when I first faced the wizards.  I couldn’t believe how surprised they were.”
“Not so strange.” he said.  “Their spells were set up to deal with known wizards, such as myself.  They never anticipated an attack from a lone, untrained mage.  They didn’t recognize you as a mage, even when you faced them.  Had they known who you were, they could have neutralized your powers in an eye blink.”  He chuckled.  “I wish I could have seen their faces when they recovered and realized what had happened.”
“I’m just glad it’s over,” she said.
“Yes, it’s over, and we have our young prince back with us.”  He cleared his throat.  “Carma, when we get back, the queen is sure to offer you a place in her court.  And the prince--who has more than a casual eye for you--may seek your company.  I know all that will be tempting to you, but I truly hope you will choose to stay with us on the council.  The queen will leave that option open to you.”
“You needn’t worry,” she said.  “How could one who is mage-gifted deign to choose otherwise?”
The Most High Grand Wizard nodded his head and smiled.