Conclave
Master Galwynn was meant to be paying attention to his fellow Masters at their regular conclave to discuss the most pressing issues affecting the kingdom, but the problem vexing the Master of Enlightenment made him too ill at ease to give full ear to his colleagues. For several days, Kevin had been investigating the ominous phenomenon that had occurred in the heavens, and time was growing nigh for him to report his findings to the King. But for the life of him, he did not know what he was going to say.
By now, Kevin had a clear and factual understanding of what events had occurred in the firmament, but he was no closer than ever to knowing why those events had occurred, or what they meant.
“Master Galwynn? Master Galwynn?” said Prime Master Francis Glenbury, irritatedly, as he rapped his knuckles on the venerable oak table around which the Masters sat. “Are you still with us?” When the Prime Master spoke, the prickly thicket of white whiskers on his chin wagged disapprovingly.
“What? Oh, my most humble apologies, dear sirs and ladies!” said Kevin. “I am greatly troubled by a problem I’m trying to solve, and I am ashamed to say my mind was elsewhere instead of here.”
Prime Master Glenbury contemplated Master Galwynn’s apology for a moment. Then he said, by way of forgiveness, “Would the ‘problem’ you refer to, be the one the King set forth for you? To understand why, a few nights ago, the stars in heaven revolved around an axis like children dancing around a maypole?” The Prime Master was as kind as he was learned and wise. “We are all friends and Masters here, Galwynn. Is there any way we can help?”
Kevin felt duly chastised for becoming so wrapped up in his problem that he didn’t consider asking his colleagues for help; and was duly grateful that, with encouraging murmurs and nods of their heads, his colleagues offered their assistance now.
Kevin quickly summarized everything he had learned thus far, and everything that remained a mystery. The Masters briefly discussed and debated what they had heard, but in truth, they agreed that Master Galwynn had pursued every reasonable avenue of inquiry available to him. Which was why the Masters were intrigued when Kevin interrupted their deliberations to ask if he was being too outlandish, or too unorthodox, to suggest an unreasonable avenue of inquiry.
Master Galwynn said, “I wonder if the answer to the mystery of the stars, might be found in the stars themselves.” Kevin turned to face Lady Barbara De Lune, the Mistress of Stargazers. “A Master of Enlightenment examines all in the world that is reported to him, and uses those reports to envision present events beyond mortal ken. Astronomers observe and measure the position and motion of celestial bodies, and then astrologers interpret those measurements to foretell future events beyond mortal ken. If stargazers can do that, might they not be able to observe the stars anew and shed some insight on the strange event that happened a short while ago in the past?”
Kevin suddenly felt the ridiculousness of what he had just said wash over him. “Mind you, it’s only my conjecture; a suggestion at best…”
The baubles and bangles adorning Mistress De Lune’s arms and wrists jingled and jangled as she adjusted her flowing robe and many-colored scarves, and then raised to one eye the gazing crystal that hung from her neck by a silver chain. Suddenly, the view by onlookers of her pale-blue eye loomed large, and the ebony pupil at its center seemed flecked with stardust.
Lady Barbara’s gazing crystal was a perquisite of her office, and was known to be ensorcelled so that she could see the heavens more sharply than eagles, be it day or night, cloudy or clear, through summer haze or winter gloom. But less well known was that the crystal’s enchantment enabled the holder to see not only through air and aether, but also through ignorance and folly. Such a device was coveted by many a wizard, but this gazing crystal belonged to only one personage, the Mistress of Stargazers.
Lady Barbara looked hard at Master Galwynn through her gazing crystal for a long time. Finally she said, in her odd, idiosyncratic accent that occasionally played havoc with pronouns, and that few besides Kevin Galwynn knew the origin of, “We like it. Idea is strange…but, not impossible. So, my clever boy, leave idea to me and my stargazers. We will observe the heavens tonight; record the position of the stars in our ephemerides; adjust our star charts to match that bizarre night, and then we say the sooth—whatever that might be, eh?
“Come visit me early tomorrow morning at Stargazers Tower, my clever boy. I will still be awake. We sit, have some tea, nibble some biscuits, and then I tell you what we find. Is good? Good!” she said. And then she teased with mock annoyance, “Don’t be late!”
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