Once Upon an Autumn Eve fs-3

by Dennis L McKiernan

  The men lowered the chevalier to the lawn. Margaux took a moment by candlelight to examine the man, and then turned toward the door and cried “Litter!”

  Several more women came rushing out, a stretcher among them, even as the matron in the doorway called for Zoe to come back in.

  “Take care,” commanded Margaux, as the men placed the chevalier on the litter, and then took him up to bear into the house. As they stepped away, Margaux, leading, called out, “We’ll need unguents, needle and gut, and bandages.”

  Horns sounded in the near distance, along with the cries of battle and death.

  At the sound of combat: “A bow,” said Liaze, stepping toward the circle of men. “I need a bow and full quiver. There are Goblins and a Troll out there.”

  “Princess,” said Zacharie, wrapping an arm about her to halt her movement, “Remy and the warband will take care of them.”

  Wild-eyed, Liaze started to push away, but then she looked into Zacharie’s face and the fire left her gaze. She sighed and nodded and said, “The warband, yes.” She glanced at the black and said, “Someone should care for the horse.”

  A lad-a stable boy-stepped forward to take the skittish steed, only to be met with flattened ears and bared teeth.

  “ ’Ware, son,” called out the stable master. “ ’Tis trained for war.” He stepped toward the animal and frowned in thought, then commanded “Calmes-toi!” and the horse settled and permitted himself to be led away by the man.

  “Rub him down well and feed him an extra ration of oats,” called Liaze after. “He performed with merit.”

  Without turning about, the stable master raised a hand of acknowledgement and continued on ’round the mansion.

  Zoe and the matron Martine, portly, a white streak through her black hair, came bustling out, Zoe bearing a blue dressing gown.

  Liaze shook her head and clutched her wrap tighter. “This cloak will do until the men return.”

  Martine huffed in exasperation and shook her head and tch-tch ed, while Zoe sighed, and together they headed toward the mansion, taking the garment with them.

  In the distance the sounds of battle faded, as if the warband pursued the encroaching Goblins and the Troll farther into the woods.

  Time passed, and still there came sporadic sounds of combat.

  As the distant and intermittent engagements continued, Margaux stepped back through the door and to the princess. “He looks to be quite battered, my lady, as if beaten with clubs. He was certainly struck across his forehead-knocked him clear out I would think. Right bloody it was, the skin torn, but we stitched what we could-nine altogether-and salved and bandaged it. Withal he should recover nicely.”

  Liaze frowned. “Margaux, he was not, as you say, ‘knocked clear out,’ at least not immediately, for after the blow he managed to ride his horse into the willows, and he looked straight at me when I rolled him over.”

  “Then he must have a very thick skull… or great strength of will to remain aware after that strike,” said the healer.

  “Did he say anything?” asked Zacharie.

  Liaze shook her head, for though he had asked if she were an “ange”-in the old tongue the word meant “angel”-surely it was but the product of an addled mind.

  In the distance, silver clarions-horns of the manor-sounded the recall.

  “It seems the battle is over, my lady,” said Zacharie. “I will send some of the guard to fetch your garments.”

  “My bow and quiver are there, too,” said Liaze, pulling the cloak closer ’round. “Tell those who go to be alert, for there might be more foe lurking about.”

  A short while later, Remy and the warband returned, along with the men who had gone to fetch Liaze’s apparel, a lad among them bearing the leathers and silks, another with the boots and the bow and quiver and linens, both of them somewhat red-faced and shy at carrying Her Highness’s gear, especially the intimate garments. And women rushed out to greet the men of the warband as well as those on houseguard, concern on their faces, Martine and Zoe among them.

  “We skewered the Troll, my lady,” called Remy, grinning, running a hand through his red hair, “and a number of the Goblins, too. And we only took a scrape or three.” Remy nodded toward one of the men cradling his left arm, a bone obviously broken, and another man bleeding from the nose. As they were tended, Remy said, “They ran and we pursued, but some got away.-Oh, and we found more dead out in the forest, slain by someone else’s hand.”

  “The chevalier,” said Liaze, glancing at the blood-slathered, jagged half-blade yet lying on the sward. “Surely he is the one who did so. Broke his sword in twain.”

  As the stable boy sprang forward and took up the damaged weapon and wiped it in the grass to clean away the grume, Remy said, “You deem the chevalier came alone?”

  Liaze shrugged. “If others were with him, where are they now?”

  “Mayhap lying dead in the forest, or perhaps fled away.”

  “Regardless,” said the princess, “as soon as he awakens and tells his tale, then we shall know.”

  Liaze turned to the men and called out, “Well done! Indeed, well done!” Then with a sweeping gesture she took in everyone there on the forecourt lawn. “Well done, all!

  “Huzzah!” she cried, “and huzzah! ”

  Her shout was echoed tenfold and more, when all the gathering called out a Huzzah! in reply.

  Liaze then turned to the pair of red-faced but smiling lads carrying her gear. “Zacharie, will you see to my bow and quiver?” And as the steward stepped forward and took the weapons from the one lad, Liaze said to Martine, “And, madam, would you please relieve these young men of their, um, embarrassing burdens, and see that my garments get to my quarters?”

  Grinding her teeth at being asked to act as nought but a common maid, Martine snatched the leathers and silks and linens and boots from the two boys and stalked off toward the manor.

  The other women began drifting toward the mansion, and among them there came a giggle, and someone pointed at the retreating matron and said sotto voce, “Did you hear what Martine said when Princess Liaze came agallop with the man?”

  “Oui,” came the reply, and the voice took on a portentous tone, somewhat like that of Martine: “ ‘Princess, you are not wearing clothes!’ As if that were the only important thing, the princess having just saved the man from the Goblins and the Troll, and him wounded and all.”

  “ ‘Tutor Martine, it’s not like I had time to don my clothing when Goblins were breathing on my neck!’ That’s what she said, the princess.”

  The two laughed, accompanied by titters from the others, and then one said, “This brave chevalier, I wonder where he is from, and how he came to be in the Autumnwood, and why was he fighting Goblins, and where did they come from and…” Their voices faded away as they moved onward, guards going at their sides.

  Encircled by the warband, Liaze turned to Remy. “Set a double ward this night, Armsmaster, and tomorrow I would have you and your men search the surround and get an accurate count of the fallen foe. See if you can tell whence they came… as well as what you can discover of the path of the chevalier, too.”

  “Yes, my lady,” said Remy, touching a finger to his forehead in salute.

  “Princess,” said Zacharie, glancing ’round through the moonlit night, “we best get you inside, for as you said, there might be more foe about.”

  Liaze nodded and then turned and padded toward the manor, an escort of armed men going ahead and aflank and aft of their barefooted lady, a lad bearing a shattered sword at her side.

  3

  Chevalier

  Zoe stood waiting under the high portico as Liaze and her escort of men paced up the three steps to the landing.

  “Where is the chevalier, Zoe?”

  “The infirmary, my lady.”

  Through the entry they went, the brass-studded, thick doors of oak standing back against the walls of a short corridor. As members of the houseguard closed those doors b
ehind, the princess and her escort stepped along the passage and through another oaken doorway to come to a broad landing opening into a vast front hall. Down two steps the princess went and onto a wide floor of white marble, where centered within and inset in stone lay a large depiction of a scarlet maple leaf in a broad circle, the perimeter of which showed ripened heads of grain-the leaf crafted of shades of red granite, the grain of shades of brown. Three storeys above, the alabaster ceiling held a leaded-glass skylight portraying the same leaf and grain-a reflection of the one below. To either side, a massive staircase-one left, one right-swept from landings up and ’round, curving to a high balcony encircling the floor below, and higher up still were individual balconies jutting out of the three facing walls, with recessed doors leading into chambers beyond. On the main floor itself were doors and archways ranged to left, right, and fore, both at the great-hall floor level and the balcony level just above; beyond those archways corridors receded into the interior of the manor. Sconces bearing lit candles and lanterns were ranged along on the walls around, giving the chamber a pale yellow glow, augmented by argent moonlight slanting in through high front windows and the leaded-glass skylight above.

  Many members of the staff stood arrayed all ’round within the hall, and most faces held looks of anxiety.

  Liaze stopped upon the red maple leaf-a symbol of her station-and gazed about. Then she said, “I know not why a Troll-led band of Goblins was within the Autumnwood, yet be assured that the Troll is dead and many Goblins were slain, and the remaining few fled for their lives. Be also assured that we are well armed, and the warband and the houseguard are not only up to the task of defending this place, but also of routing the foe. So, tend to your responsibilities, and sleep well this night, for those whose duty it is will remain vigilant and watch o’er you.”

  A murmur of assent whispered ’round the room, and Zacharie said, “My lady, we thank you for these heartening words.” Most of those in the hall nodded in agreement, though a few yet held pensive looks. And then, with a gesture, Zacharie dismissed the staff, and the members vanished into the surrounding corridors.

  “Zacharie, with me,” said Liaze. “Let us see what this chevalier can tell us.” She glanced at her armsmaster. “You as well, Remy.”

  Rightward she turned, and she and Remy and Zacharie, with Zoe trotting after, headed toward the infirmary.

  “When we heard the clarion call,” said Remy, “followed by what I knew to be the sound of Goblin horns, that’s when we grabbed up our arms and came running.”

  “As did the houseguard,” said Zacharie.

  “Who sounded the call, my lady?” asked Remy.

  “The chevalier, I believe.”

  “It is well that he did,” said Remy. “Else, my lady, you at the pool might have been-”

  “Oh, don’t even think that, Remy,” said Zoe from behind, the handmaiden aghast.

  “I can only say it was good that he rode a horse,” said Liaze, “else we might not have escaped at all.”

  “Why are they here, I wonder?” said Zacharie. “-The Goblins, I mean, and the Troll.”

  “The chevalier, too,” said Remy.

  “Oh, my,” volunteered Zoe. “Do you think it had anything to do with those sisters, those witches?”

  Liaze frowned. “Hradian, Iniqui, Nefasi?”

  “Forget not Rhensibe,” said Zacharie.

  “But Rhensibe is dead,” said Zoe.

  “Exactly so,” said Remy. “It could be a raid of revenge.”

  As Zoe’s mouth curved into a silent O, Remy said, “But wouldn’t they attack Winterwood Manor first? I mean, after all, it was Borel who-”

  Liaze turned to Zacharie. “At first light send falcons. Perhaps Goblins and Trolls have already attacked there. Send falcons to the Summerwood and Springwood as well, bearing warnings and telling of what happened here.”

  “Perhaps they attacked here first,” said Zacharie. “I mean, we have no defensive wall about the estate.”

  Liaze shook her head. “We haven’t needed one.” “But Summerwood Manor has a wall about,” said Zoe.

  “It is not one for protection,” said Remy. “Even so, were we to have a true defensive wall-”

  “Let us not rehash old arguments,” said Liaze, waving a dismissive hand. “The manor itself is strong enough, and I would not live in a fort.”

  “As you will, my lady,” said Remy, the armsmaster sighing.

  Zacharie shrugged. “Still, they could come at us again with another raid of revenge.”

  Liaze frowned and said, “I wonder.”

  “My lady?” said Zacharie.

  “Well,” said Liaze, “because they came back when the Goblin I slew called out, it seems they were after the knight, rather than coming to mount an attack on the manor.”

  “Why would they be after him, my lady?” asked Zoe.

  “Perhaps he can tell us,” said Liaze, even as they came to the door of the infirmary.

  As they entered, several women standing at the side of a bed turned at the sound of their footsteps. Margaux was among them, and her face lit up and she smiled and said, “My lady.” The women moved aside, making room for the princess and her party.

  In the bed ’neath cotton sheets lay the now-unclothed chevalier, his forehead bandaged ’round, his black hair spread on the pillow framing his rather handsome face, a day’s growth of stubble thereon. Even as the princess stepped to his side, he gave a faint moan and shifted, revealing about his neck a silver chain, leading down to a blue gemstone in a silver setting lying upon his chest. He did not waken.

  “Did you give him a sleeping draught?” asked Zoe.

  “Oh, non, ” said Margaux. “He received a rather severe blow to the head. Natural sleep should restore him, but we must make certain that he is not slipping into a dark realm beyond recovery, and so we’ll rouse him every now and again to make certain that he responds.-In fact, we were just about to do so.”

  “I would question him,” said Liaze.

  Margaux frowned. “Oh, my lady, I think you should wait until the morrow, for he is likely to be addled, and whatever he says, we should take it with a grain of salt.”

  Liaze pursed her lips and said, “Very well. On the morrow, then.” She canted her head toward the knight and said, “Proceed.”

  Margaux glanced from princess to chevalier and back and smiled and said, “Perhaps you should call to him, Princess.”

  “Has he given you his name?” asked Liaze.

  “Non,” said Margaux. “And he had nothing upon him to identify just who he is.”

  “ ’Tis likely to be on his horse,” said Liaze. “Perhaps in the saddlebags or bedroll. Still…”

  “His clothing, however,” said Josette, one of the women standing by, “is of luxurious cloth and sewn with a fine hand. I would think he comes from wealth.”

  “Still, that does not identify him,” said Margaux, “and if there is nought borne upon his horse to say, I believe we’ll need him to tell us just who he is.” She stepped aside and gestured to Liaze.

  The princess leaned down and softly said, “Awaken, sir knight.”

  The man stirred faintly.

  “Awaken, sir knight,” said Liaze again. “I would thank you for alerting my holt.” She gently touched him on the shoulder. “Awaken.”

  The chevalier’s eyes opened, and they were a deep blue beyond blue. Even as a thrill flooded Liaze’s entire being, the knight’s eyes locked with hers and he said, “Mon ange. Mon bel ange.”

  Liaze flushed, her heart leaping, while all ’round the women sighed and one whispered, “So handsome.” A murmur of beau and elegant came in agreement.

  Zoe laughed and twirled about and clapped her hands.

  Remy frowned and looked at Zacharie in puzzlement, and Zacharie merely shrugged.

  With a faint smile on his lips, the chevalier closed his eyes and sank back into sleep.

  Her face yet ablush, Liaze straightened and looked at the women standin
g nearby, yet they all had expressions of innocence upon their features. Liaze sighed in exasperation and turned to Zacharie. “Would you please see if there is ought in the knight’s saddlebags or upon the trappings of his steed to let us know just who he might be?”

  As Zacharie nodded, Liaze frowned a moment and turned back to the chevalier and said, “Perhaps on the pendant there is engraved a name.”

  In spite of the fact that the cloak she wore gaped open a bit, Liaze reached out toward the silver-clasped jewel, and the moment she did so the women drew a collective gasp and Margaux cried, “Oh my lady, do not touch the-”

  The princess’s fingers came into contact with the “Oh!” she cried and jerked back, cupping her fingers in her other hand, her cloak gaping wide and revealing even more, and Zacharie and Remy looked away.

  Amid a babble, “-amulet,” finished Margaux, too late, then added, “It stings.” She reached out to take Liaze’s hand.

  “I saw a spark,” declared Zacharie, stepping forward, yet looking elsewhere but at the princess. “It leapt out from the gem.”

  Remy, a dagger in hand, interposed himself between the knight and Liaze and glared down at the unconscious man.

  Zoe cried out, “Oh, are you hurt, my lady? Are you hurt?” as the princess turned her back to the men.

  With women babbling and Remy glowering and Zacharie now glancing back and forth between Liaze and the pendant, the princess shook her hand as if to throw off the pain and said, “I’ll be all right.”

  “ ’Tis some sort of magic,” said Margaux. She gestured toward one of the women. “Aurelie discovered it, much to her dismay, even as we disrobed him.”

  “For protection, I would say,” said Zacharie.

  “What?” said Liaze, turning toward the gaunt steward.

  “The pendant,” said Zacharie, looking away. “I believe it is some sort of protective charm.”

  “It did not save him from a blow to the head,” said Liaze.

  Zacharie shrugged and turned up his hands.

  “Goblins, a Troll, a tall and handsome and mysterious knight,” said Zoe, “and now a magic amulet. What is it all about?”