Once Upon an Autumn Eve fs-3
Page 6
“So, you move the chevalier to block me,” said Liaze. “Well then, green hierophant takes that impudent red knight. Check.-Oh my, that was a mistake.”
Luc smiled. “Tower takes hierophant. Check and mate.”
Liaze stared at the board. “I could have seen that coming, had I not been too eager to capture your chevalier.”
“You have captured more than one chevalier, my lady.”
Liaze looked up to see Luc gazing at her, and her heart leapt.
Boldly, Liaze said, “And you, Luc, captured the queen right from the start.”
Luc reached across the table and took Liaze’s left hand in his right, and she did not withdraw from him. Luc whispered, “My lady, you are so beautiful. Why hasn’t someone come and carried you away: a king, a prince, a duke, an earl?”
Liaze put her right hand on top of his, there among the captured pieces. “Why not a knight, Sieur Luc?”
Luc shook his head. “Princess, you are worthy of a true noble and not a common chevalier.”
“You are no common chevalier, Luc.”
Luc withdrew his hand and pushed both out in a gesture of denial. “Me? But I am just a poor woodcutter’s son.”
“Luc,” said Liaze, taking his left hand-his heart hand-in both of hers. “You know not whose child you are, yet this I say: in these days you have been here, I have come to realize a nobler person I have never met. You are anything but common.”
“But princesses do not companion with commoners, my lady,” said Luc.
Liaze shook her head. “Then, by that rule, Camille, a so-called commoner from the mortal world, and Prince Alain should never have wed.” At mention of Alain, Luc glanced at the portrait of the Summerwood prince. “Ah, non, Luc,” continued Liaze, “Camille is a rare and uncommon person… just as are you.”
Luc sat without speaking, and after long moments Liaze said, “Whatever happens between us, let it be.”
Luc sighed and said, “Princess, you deserve someone much better than me, and that I truly believe. Even so, it will be difficult to keep a rein on my ardor.”
Liaze’s pulse quickened, still she said, “Keep a rein?”
Luc nodded. “My lady, some believe love at first sight is but a mad fancy, yet I tell you it is not, for at the first moment I saw you, you captured my heart.”
Liaze’s soul filled with joy, and her laugh came silvery, and she said, “Luc, you had been hit in the head and had fallen off your horse when you first saw me.”
Luc laughed along with her, but he quickly sobered and said, “Nevertheless, Princess…” His words died, and his eyes filled with an unfathomable expression. And then he said, “That was the very moment, though I didn’t know whether you were real or a dream.”
“To fall in love with a dream would indeed be a mad fancy, for dreams are not real,” said Liaze. “Yet heed me, Luc, I am no dream.”
“Non, my princess, you are not, and for that I give my most fervent thanks to almighty Mithras above.”
10
Fulfillment
Over the next two weeks, in the evenings Luc and Liaze continued to play echecs, and on rainy nights they read before the fireplace in the manor’s library, oft quoting poems to one another, many of them concerning love-unrequited, consummated, lost, gained, and the like-as well as parts of sagas and bits of familiar tales. And during sunny days they flew arrows at targets, and in this Liaze proved the better. But in croquet, Luc had a keen eye and hand, and oft Liaze found her ball far from the next wicket, driven away by Luc. They dined together-breakfast, lunch, dinner-yet there were times Liaze had to attend to matters of the principality. During some of these, Luc sat high in the gallery that ran ’round three sides of the throne chamber, and he listened to judgments and arbitrations and settlements of quarrels. There were times of courtly functions, and these Luc did attend, such as when some of the Fey Folk came to pay respects: over three days Luc met five tattooed Lynx Riders, and a Gnome and three Kobolds who asked to have a mining dispute settled, and Brownies, Hobs, Pixies, Sprites, and one great shambling thing, and a Ghillie Dhu in his clothes made of leaves and moss.
During this time, Luc’s bruises cleared, and the bandage came off his forehead. A small circular scar remained, but Margaux told him it would soon fade.
And then Luc and Liaze began riding in the woods, exercising Nightshade and Liaze’s own horse-Pied Agile, Nimble Foot in the old tongue-a dark grey mare with a white face as well as white fetlocks on all four feet. And on these excursions Liaze carried her bow, and Luc went well armed, with his own bow and arrows, and a long-knife strapped to his thigh, and a new sword in his scabbard, the blade presented to him by Remy and Zacharie as a token of their respect. His spear had been found, as well as his helm, but these he generally left behind.
When Remy objected to these forest rides and said that Goblins and Trolls might yet be about, Liaze laughed and asked, “What better escort than Luc?”
“My warband,” replied Remy.
Liaze shook her head.
Remy sighed and said, “Then, Princess, fare not deep in the woods, and I will have men standing by in case of need.-And have that knight bear his silver horn.”
Now Liaze sighed and made a minor gesture of assent.
There came a cool morn, fog twisting among the trees, and as they rode Luc said, “Let us go on a hunt.”
“What after?” asked Liaze.
“A stag if we can jump one up.”
“Capital,” said Liaze. “Would you have others come with us?”
Luc grinned and glanced in the direction of the manor well beyond seeing and said, “And share the chase?”
Liaze laughed and shook her head. “I know where deer come to graze on low-hanging apples. If there is a stag among the doe-”
“Then we jump him,” said Luc, “and yield a bit of ground, for it would be most unfair to take him unawares at his breakfast.”
“Splendid,” said Liaze. “Follow me.” And she heeled her grey in the flanks, and in spite of her half-hearted promise to Remy, toward a distant woodland orchard they rode.
There was a stag at one of the trees, and away it flew, and laughing in the chase they pursued, Liaze’s nimble mare swift through the forest, Luc’s black stallion faster in the open.
They did not bring down a stag that day, yet they were well pleased when they called a halt to the chase.
Chatting and laughing, slowly they rode back toward the manor, the day growing quite warm with the mounting sun, the fog having been burned off long past.
As they came in sight of the mansion, “I know just what we need do,” said Liaze, and she led Luc toward the willows.
They rode in among the drooping yellow branches, brushing them aside with their hands. “I seem to recall such,” said Luc as he frowned at the dangles, “though the memory is hazy.”
They came at last to a small open glade there in the center of the grove. And across the sward, among great, flat white stones, lay the broad pool. Here they dismounted and turned loose their horses-stallion and mare-among the sweet grasses of the small, tree-sheltered meadow.
They walked to one of the stones at the edge of the pool, the spring-fed water lucid and welling, and a rill flowed out from one end to dance and sing over a stony bed on its journey to a faraway sea. And Luc looked about and smiled in recognition and said, “Somewhere in this place in the moonlight is where I first saw my Water Nymph.”
Liaze laughed and said, “Let me show you where,” and she sat down and pulled off her boots and stockings, then unlaced her leather jacket and flung it aside, along with her silken shirt.
Luc’s breath was taken away with the sight of her, yet he stood looking at her high breasts and slim waist, his gaze frank and admiring.
And she got to her feet and stripped out of her leather breeks and the waist-to-ankle silk garment beneath.
And Luc unfastened his long-knife and sword belt and scabbard, and he sat down to pull off his own boots.
In that moment, blowing, Luc surfaced in the water at her feet. And he looked up at her and again his breath was taken away. And then with a lift and a turn, he was on the stone as well.
Liaze reached down and took his hand, and he rose to his feet, and she led him to the mossy bank along the edge of the dancing rill. “And here is where I first found you,” she said, and she pulled him down beside her.
And embracing one another, face to face they lay, and she held him close and kissed him deeply. His manhood was hard and pressing against her, and she could feel the beat of his pulse.
“Luc,” she said, her voice husky, her eyes lidded with desire.
“My lady, I have no experience whatsoever with-”
“You have never?”
“Never.”
“Here, then,” she said, and she rolled astraddle him and reached down and guided him in.
“Oh!” he said, and, “Oh!” just as did Liaze.
In the meadow that warm afternoon, with sunlight shining down, a stallion and a mare cropped the sweet, sweet grass.
Dennis L. McKiernan
Once Upon an Autumn Eve
11
Idyll
They lay side by side in Luc’s bed, and by the flame of a single candle they looked upon one another. Twenty-one more days had passed, and often they had made love, and every night they slept in each other’s arms. Gently, Liaze had guided him, and Luc had learned quickly, and their passion had grown with each passing day.
Liaze reached up and brushed back a stray lock of Luc’s dark hair, and then tenderly cupped his cheek in her hand. “What are you thinking, cheri? ”
Luc took her hand away from his cheek and held it in both of his and said, “I believe my errantry has ended but a few days after it began, for here I have found the only thing worthy of quests.”
“And what might that be, Luc?”
“True love, my lady, true love.”
“And for this you would give up errantry?”
“I ask: what is errantry, ma cherie? And I answer: nought but a roaming search for adventure.”
“But you are a man, and men crave excitement.”
“And I suppose women don’t?” asked Luc.
Liaze laughed. “Oh yes, we crave excitement, but perhaps of a different sort. Women don’t usually run about and bash at Dragons, as do the heroes of the old sagas.”
Now Luc laughed and looked into Liaze’s eyes, dark in the candlelight. “Methinks those who tell such tales have never come upon a Dragon.”
Liaze sat up in surprise, the sheet falling from her breasts and down to her thighs. “And you have?”
“Mmm, what?” said Luc, his gaze now elsewhere.
Liaze laughed a throaty laugh, and she reached out and took his face in her hands and tilted his gaze up and away from her bosom, and he grinned mischievously. Liaze said, “I asked, Sieur Knight, have you seen a Dragon?”
“Um, yes, nigh a year ago.”
“Tell me, then.”
Luc said, “Well, it was as I was training upon Nightshade that there came a skreigh from above, and when I looked up, there it was, high in the sky, its vast wings rowing the air. A dark ruddy color were its scales, with splashes of obsidian glittering here and there, and it was enormous; that I could tell, even though it was far aloft, for-and here is the unbelievable part-I swear it had a rider, a man, astride at the base of the Drake’s neck, there where the nape meets the shoulders, just ahead of its widespread wings. It was a Dragon, all right, yet, because it had a rider, I think I might have dreamt it, even though I thought I was awake.”
Liaze laughed. “It was no dream, my love. What you saw was the Drake Raseri and the rider was the Elf Rondalo.”
“Raseri? Rondalo?” said Luc. “But the tales say that they are mortal enemies.”
“Once, perhaps, but no more, for Camille laid the enmity to rest.”
“You must tell me how she did so,” said Luc.
“I will,” said Liaze, “after.”
“After?” asked Luc.
Liaze smiled. “Yes, after.”
“Oh,” said Luc, then he grinned, too, and added, “indeed after,” and he took her in his arms.
A fortnight later, “I tell you, Zacharie,” said Remy, “this Luc is a marvel, he is. I’ve never seen a finer hand with a rapier, and I’ve seen more than a few. Over these past fourteen days he’s taught my warband and your houseguard a thing or three with a blade… cudgels, too.”
“War axes and hammers as well,” added the steward.
They watched the men drill under Luc’s tutelage-shields and bucklers, now. After a while, Remy said, “Be a good thing if the princess marries him.”
Zacharie nodded and said, “She’s heels over head in love, you know.”
“How can you tell?” asked Remy, feigning seriousness, and Zacharie looked at the armsmaster askance, and then they both broke out in laughter.
“What is so joyous?” said Liaze, smiling, as she walked up from behind, Tutrice Martine at her side.
“Er, nothing, my lady,” said Remy, giving the princess a slight bow.
Martine looked through disapproving eyes at Zacharie and said, “Is this one of your vile men’s stories?”
“You could call it that,” said Zacharie.
“You don’t want to hear this, Princess,” said the matron, and she raised her hands as if to cover Liaze’s ears.
Liaze shook her head and lifted an eyebrow at her former tutrice, and Martine let her hands fall back to her sides and huffed and turned away.
They stood and watched as Luc-shirtless, his amulet swinging with his moves-demonstrated the various ways of the shield bash, as well as how the edge of the shield could become a terrible weapon true. And he showed how a small, round buckler could be thrown, to sail far and bring down a foe at range, especially one that is fleeing.
“This man of yours,” said Remy without thinking, “he’s a wonder, and that’s a fact.”
“He is at that,” said Liaze.
“Oh, my lady, forgive me,” said Remy. “It’s just… well… you know. Not that I’m saying he’s your man. Instead, what I mean-”
“I know what you mean, Armsmaster,” said Liaze, smiling, “and all of it is true. Luc’s asked me to marry him, and I will, as soon as my sire and dam come here on their annual rade, for a king must be notified, and I would rather it were him than any other. After that, the banns must be posted and a hierophant found, and then Autumnwood Manor will see a wedding.”
Martine, who had been gazing through slitted eyes at the agile chevalier, spun around to face the princess. “But he is a common knight,” objected the tutrice, “and you know nothing of him. You deserve better: a duc… or a comte, at least.”
“Martine, he is anything but common, though I do admit there is a mystery concerning his birth and parentage.”
“I say send him on his way, for he could be a bastard child,” said Martine, fairly spewing in ire.
Remy looked at Martine and said, “And he could just as well be a king.”
“Hmph!” huffed the matron, turning to Liaze. “For all we know, he could be your half brother.”
Liaze turned a cold eye toward Martine. “Are you accusing my sire, King Valeray, of infidel
ity? Or my mother, Queen Saissa? Take care, for their bond is strong and well known, as is the lineage of their offspring.”
Martine blenched. “No, no, Princess. I’m accusing no one of anything. It’s just that we know nought of this upstart chevalier’s parentage.”
“And I say it matters not,” said Liaze.
Unbelieving, Martine blew out air in angry puffs. “Princess, I-”
“And when might this wedding occur?” interrupted Zacharie.
Liaze glanced at the red and gold leaves gracing the nearby woods. “In autumn,” she said and laughed and then sobered. “Seriously, Zacharie, within a year. Until then he is my consort, my lover.”
“Your consort! Your lover!” cried Martine, throwing up her hands in exasperation. “Princess, when you were a child I thought I taught you better, in spite of your willful ways.”
Before the Princess could respond, “Martine,” said Zacharie, “you have said quite enough.”
In that moment, with his shirt slung over a shoulder, Luc walked from the practice field toward the four, and Tutrice Martine spun on her heel and stormed away.
A slight sheen of perspiration on his face and chest and abdomen, and down the lean muscles of his arm, Luc stepped to Liaze, and she took him by his free hand and smiled up into his eyes. Then she turned and said to her steward, “Zacharie, I think it’s time we had held a dance. Refreshments as well, if you please. Invite everyone to the grand ballroom, and rotate the guards in and out. Would you arrange for such?”
A great grin split Zacharie’s features. “Gladly, my lady. ’Tis a grand party we’ll have.”
That afternoon Luc moved into the royal wing, his quarters adjoining Liaze’s rooms. And the entire staff breathed a sigh of relief, for their princess was pledged to a man they all approved of-all but Martine, that is, for she yet referred to him as a lowborn, upstart, common hedge knight.
Zacharie dispatched falcons to the siblings’ manors, bearing the news that Liaze was betrothed. Liaze sent her own falcon winging unto her sire and dam, and the message it bore told what she knew of Luc and of the woodcutter-the former armsmaster-who had taken him in, and she asked if they knew of a child abandoned in a like manner in a forest some three or four twilight borders sunwise of her own demesne.