Once Upon an Autumn Eve

by Dennis L McKiernan

  Guillaume’s face flashed with guilt and then rage, “Why you little—”

  “Vicomte Guillaume, since you dispute my claim, I challenge you to a trial of arms.”

  Ooo . . . breathed the gathering, for this rash youth had flung his gauntlet down before one of the most feared fighters in the realm.

  “Ha!” cried Guillaume. “You are a fool, boy.”

  In moments, Guillaume’s arms and armor were delivered to him, and he spoke to Gustave and a handful of men, his words too quiet for Liaze to hear.

  She turned to slip away, only to find Gwyd standing on the landing behind, her bow and quiver and long-knife in hand. “Shush!” snapped Gwyd. “Thank me not, Princess, f’r I wouldna like t’leave y’r service f’r the nonce, though I will one day, when this be over, go back t’my Laird Duncan.”

  Quickly, Liaze strung her bow, and she strapped on her long-knife, then she turned her attention to the forecourt once more.

  Luc had dismounted.

  And, sword drawn, he faced Guillaume, the vicomte’s sword in hand as well.

  And the crowd had moved back to form a great circle.

  Léon stood off to one side, his bow in hand, an arrow in his grasp, though it was not nocked.

  Gustave came to stand on the steps, two or three down from Liaze and Adèle.

  A quiet fell.

  “To first blood?” asked Luc.

  “Ha! First blood? Non. We fight to the death, boy, for you have called me a murderer.”

  Léon cried out, “And I called you a liar and a usurper and a sender of assassins.”

  “Pah! I will deal with you after I have taken care of this fool,” said Guillaume—

  —And without warning he attacked.

  Shang! Blades met, bronze on bronze, and Luc was driven back before the assault, and Adèle cried out in fear.

  Ching! . . . Shang! . . . Guillaume pressed the fight, ever driving Luc hindward, the youth blocking and parrying and slipping the vicomte’s blade down and away as the circle yielded before them.

  On the steps, Gustave laughed in glee, for certainly his own sire would take the measure of this boy who would think to sit on the throne instead of Gustave himself when his father became a marquis or duke or even higher.

  And down in the courtyard, Guillaume attacked, battering at Luc’s blade, and the vicomte laughed and cried out, “You’re losing, boy!”

  Luc smiled grimly and said, “I think I’ve learned enough of your manner of swordplay,” and in a wink of an eye, Luc riposted, and a gash opened on Guillaume’s wrist, there between gauntlet and chain, blood to flow freely.

  Rage flashed across Guillaume’s face, but now it was Luc who pressed the attack, his blade a blur, for he was quicker than Guillaume, though the vicomte was marginally stronger.

  Clang! . . . Dring! . . . Luc drove Guillaume back and back, and another gash opened, this one across Guillaume’s right cheek, deep and gushing, teeth showing through.

  Guillaume’s eyes flew wide in fear. He tried to disengage, but could not. He circled about and risked a glance at the ramparts. “Vincent!” he cried.

  An arrow flashed through the air, and a man on the walls, nocked bow in hand, tumbled down to the flagstones below, slain by Léon’s shaft.

  On the steps Gustave reached for his dagger, but of a sudden, from behind, someone grabbed his hair and jerked his head back, and a long-knife was at his throat, and Liaze hissed, “Draw it and you die.”

  Elsewhere, throughout the courtyard, other men held knives and daggers upon Guillaume’s henchmen.

  And in the center of the circle, Luc spitted Guillaume, the lad’s thrust so hard the blade pierced all the way through chain and gut and spine.

  Guillaume looked down in disbelief.

  “To the death, you demanded,” said Luc, “and to the death it is,” and he wrenched his sword free.

  And Guillaume fell dead to the stone.

  In that moment a rooster crowed, and Twk, upon the ramparts, led the gathering in a cheer, joy filling the courtyard for all but Guillaume’s own men.

  Liaze turned Gustave over to Léon, and then she went flying down the steps and into Luc’s arms. Soundly she kissed him, and then she disengaged and turned to the woman standing nigh. “Comte Luc, I present to you your mother Adèle. Adèle, this is your son.”

  Within the candlemark, Gustave and his retinue—henchmen, staff, armsmen, stripped of all their weapons but daggers—rode away from Château Blu, Luc granting them safe passage for a day but no more. And they took the corpse of Guillaume with them.

  That evening, there was a banquet of celebration, and all the staff of the manor were invited—serving by turns so that all could partake. The Widow Dorothée was in attendance as well. There was gaiety and cheer, and good food and wine, and many a speech was given, for all were glad to see Guillaume and his ilk gone and the rightful heir in place.

  Finally, Liaze stood and called for quiet, and when the banquet hall became still, she said, “Some believe that the dark of the moon brings ill things, and at times it is true, and at other times it is not. Yet heed: it was the dark of the moon when Luc was stolen and the dark of the moon when he was saved, and on this night once again it is the dark of the moon. And so unto you I say this: think not the dark of the moon only an ill omen, for on this eve—the dark of the moon—your comte is returned to you.” She raised her glass in salute to Luc, and said: “To my beloved and your comte: Luc du Château Bleu dans le Lac de la Rose et Gardien de la Clé.”

  A great cheer went up, and all in the assembly stood and hoisted their glasses. Long did the clamor last, but then Luc stood and held up his hands, and, when quiet fell, he turned to Adèle and said, “Mother, long was the road to Château Bleu, but I would not be here were it not for my comrades: my foster père Armsmaster Léon, my truelove Princess Liaze, my companions Brownie Gwyd and Pixie Twk and a red rooster named Jester. I raise my glass to each of you and cry out for all to hear, ‘Hail, hail, hail!’ ”

  As one the crowd shouted, Hail, hail, hail!

  And when at last silence fell, Jester decided to crow, and laughter burst forth from the assembly and rang the very walls. Gwyd though, deep in his cups, sat with a puzzled frown on his face, the Brownie trying to cipher out whether or not he had been thanked and therefore would have to leave. Finally, he shrugged and called for another goblet of wine.

  And joy flowed throughout Château Blu that most splendid of eves.

  41

  Homeward

  The next three weeks were a whirl of activity: Luc led an armed force out from Château Blu to harry Vicomte Gustave and his men from Luc’s demesne; upon their return from harassing the vicomte, Luc and Léon spent time recruiting and training armsmen, including sharpening the skills of the veterans, instruction having been woefully lacking during Guillaume’s reign.

  Liaze and Adèle, on the other hand, spent long hours speaking of offspring and titles and who would live where, for Adèle would have Luc stay at Château Blu, and Liaze would prefer Autumnwood Manor; in the end they compromised, deciding that Luc and she would spend summers at the Lake of the Rose, and the remainder of the year in the Autumnwood; however, as soon as a second child was born to Liaze and Luc, upon reaching majority she or he would take over the reins of governance at the Blue Château. Until then, Adèle, with Léon as her war leader and advisor, would govern while Luc was away. It was also during this time that Léon and Dorothée wedded, and she was a widow no more.

  Gwyd and Twk spent their days exploring the château, and they found the secret alcove behind the wall where spies listened to conversations within the hunt room. The very next day Adèle had the alcove bricked up.

  Gwyd also often fished in the lake, sometimes from the walls of the château, at other times from a cockleshell. Twk accompanied Gwyd when the Brownie fished from the walls, but he refused to get in the small boat with Gwyd. “If it tips over, then I’m a goner,” said the Pixie. “A pike or trout would make shor
t work of me.”

  Twk and Gwyd also spent time in the château’s cellars, sampling, for Château Blu had a splendid selection of wines. “We be tryin t’find the best o’ the lot,” said Gwyd, “and so far each selection seems better than the last.” Gwyd and Twk also spent many mornings regretting this pastime, but the Brownie’s many-pocketed belt provided needed relief.

  From the top of the battlements, Jester announced the coming of dawn every morning, and in a fenced area at the back of the château he found a small flock of egg-laying hens to keep him occupied. “His flying has improved,” said Twk, “what with his getting up and over and out of the chicken yard every day to announce the dawn, and then flying back in to see to his harem.”

  Thus did three weeks vanish, but at the end of that time Luc and Liaze began preparing for the journey back to the Autumnwood, for King Valeray and Queen Saissa would be coming to Autumnwood Manor on their annual rade, and both the princess and the comte would have Liaze’s père and mère bless their union, after which they would post the banns and begin planning their wedding.

  And so it was an eightday later Luc, Liaze, Gwyd, Twk, Jester, and a retinue of nine set out from Château Blu for Autumnwood Manor, leaving Adèle in charge of the demesne with Léon at her side.

  The dark of the moon fell on that eve.

  Starwise they went, on a bearing that some in the mortal world would call north, but in Faery it seems directions aren’t always what they appear to be. And so, Luc and Liaze and their retinue set their backs to the sunwise border and headed starwise, for Armsmaster Léon had fled that way with Luc as a babe, and starwise would take them back to his woodcutter’s cottage; he gave them a list of detailed instructions as to where to cross the seven twilight bounds so that they would not stray from the line.

  In a leisurely fashion they rode starwise, and Liaze said, “This is certainly a much slower pace from that which I rode away from my manor on your trail, love.”

  “Shall we go swifter?” asked Luc.

  “Non!” exclaimed Liaze. “Please, beloved, non. I’ve had my fill of desperate journeys.”

  Luc laughed and said, “As you will, chérie.”

  And so on they fared, and they stopped in villages and inns and took meals and drank wine, and in the inns in the eves Liaze sang while Gwyd accompanied her on his silver harp.

  After a moon and some of travel and after passing through six twilight borders—having fared across a realm of rivers wherein manned flatboats bearing cargo drifted in the flow; and having crossed a demesne of shallow lakes, their shorelines whispering with the rustle of reeds; and having ridden through a land of tall grass, where swift-running animals fled before them, white and tan animals much like deer, but blunt-horned, and with the tan limned in black; and having traveled through deep, quiet valleys of a snowcapped mountainous realm, where the wind sighed in loneliness; and having spent days coursing along the sands of a dune-laden seashore, where gulls wheeled and sandpipers ran and terns dived, the birds mewing and pipping and crying, and the blue ocean waves ever rolling—at last they came to the demesne wherein lay Laird Duncan’s manor.

  Gwyd made enquiries, and then led the retinue to a village, where they found Laird Duncan readying a warband to retake his manse from the Goblins and Trolls. Gwyd told the laird what he and the princess had done, and he returned the decanters to Duncan. Luc pledged his men and himself to help Laird Duncan to recover his home, and the laird accepted gladly. But when the combined warband reached the mansion, they found nought but ruins, for it had burned to the ground.

  Liaze gasped and said, “Ah, me, Gwyd, it seems the Goblins and Trolls were not accomplished firefighters.”

  Twk upon Jester fluttered to the ground, and he and the chicken searched through the cold ruins, while the men spread out and scanned the surround.

  Of the former occupants, no sign whatsoever did they find.

  Laird Duncan looked at Liaze and Gwyd and he burst out laughing. “Ah, lass and laddie, it seems y’r method o’ getting rid o’ the Goblins and Trolls worked well, but I wish ye hadna gotten rid o’ my house, too.” And again he broke forth in gales.

  “My lord,” said Liaze, “I will send aid to help you rebuild.”

  “Ah, lass, f’rget it,” said Duncan, widely grinning. “I wanted a change in floor plans anyway.”

  “Well,” said Twk, he and Jester black-smudged from their explorations, “can you dig all of the fallen-in burnt timbers from the cellars, you’ll have a good foundation as a start.”

  As if in agreement, Jester took that moment to crow, and Laird Duncan laughed long and loud, the others joining in.

  The next morning, with tearful good-byes, Luc and Liaze and their retinue set out starwise once more, Gwyd and Twk and Jester remaining behind to aid the laird in the construction of the manor.

  “May ye twain e’er be happy,” had said Gwyd, snuffling back tears.

  “Invite us to the wedding,” had added Twk.

  Liaze had embraced her “howling one,” her own tears flowing freely, and Luc had saluted the two. And then they had mounted up and had ridden away.

  On through the next shadowlight border they went, where they passed by the cursed castle, the stones yet speaking their Gwyd-set warning for folk to stay away. Two days later they reached Léon’s woodcutter’s cote, and Luc paused in memories awhile. Then on they fared to stop in the village of Ruisseau Miel, where they stayed at the inn.

  The people of Honey Creek were glad to see Luc again, for he was well liked, and they were amazed that he was Comte Luc—a noble—for they had only known him as a woodcutter’s son. And would you believe it? he was betrothed to a princess, no less.

  On rode Liaze and Luc and the men, and they passed through the Forest of Oaks. There Liaze saw Satyrs, but they kept their distance, for armed men fared with this maiden. Too, Liaze stopped to listen to a Faun play his willow-root pipe, and Liaze was be-spelled, rapt, her mind completely entranced, though Luc and the men found it a beautiful tune and no more. However, the men of the retinue did appreciate the air, for it brought a gathering of Nymphs to listen, and many a man’s loins ran hot with blood.

  Beyond the following twilight border they came to the farmstead of Matthieu and Madeleine, and their sons Vincent, Thierry, and Noël, and the daughter Susanne. Susanne was overjoyed to see Luc, but though she sighed and her eyes were lost in what-might-have-been-if-only, she managed to smile at Liaze and not fall into fits of weeping.

  They stayed at the croft that eve, and in spite of Matthieu and Madeleine’s protests Liaze and Luc and the retinue slept in the byre on sweet-smelling hay, but after a hearty breakfast, they bid au revoir and set out once more.

  They forded a wide-running stream and passed by the Nixie pool, but none of the Water Nymphs did they see, though as they rode past a great swirl of water spun, as if something or someone swam below.

  Days later they crossed another twilight border, to fare across a bleak land up the slopes of a mountain. At the crest of the col, a stone creature opened his eyes and said, his words ponderous, “Rrr . . . I see you have found the one you sought, Princess.”

  The men of the retinue gasped in surprise, but Liaze said, “Indeed, Caillou, I did.”

  “And the witch?” asked Caillou.

  “Properly punished,” said Liaze. “She is quite dead.”

  “Um . . . fitting.”

  Liaze sat silent for long moments, waiting, and at last Caillou said, “I . . . yet ponder your puzzle . . . um . . . Princess. No answer seems to . . . um . . . present itself.”

  “I think it has none,” said Liaze.

  More moments passed. “Good,” said Caillou, “for then I can . . . urm . . . long contemplate.”

  Liaze glanced at Luc and then said to Caillou, “Au revoir, my friend.”

  Small pebbles cascaded down from the mountainside as Caillou’s stony brow wrinkled. “Au revoir? That . . . rrr . . . means I will see you again?”

  “Indeed.”


  The crevice that served as Caillou’s mouth broadened, the rock splitting, more pebbles falling.“Then ... hmm . . . au revoir.”

  The stone eyes closed, and Liaze and Luc and the retinue rode down the far side, leaving Caillou to dwell upon the enigma posed moons past by Liaze.

  Another day went by, but late in the eve they crossed the eleventh twilight border since setting out from Château Blu, to ride into the Autumnwood at last.

  Liaze spoke to the Ghillie Dhu, and Sprites winged ’round and asked about the witch and the crows, and they cheered the news of Iniquí’s demise. And they flew ahead to alert the staff of Autumnwood Manor that the princess had returned, and she had her truelove at her side, along with a retinue of men.

  And onward through the scarlet and gold and russet woodland rode Liaze and Luc and the escort, wee folk darting alongside, tree runners overhead, unseen things scurrying in the underbrush, all accompanying their liege. And the men of the retinue looked about in wonder at these happy and grinning fey folk, and smiled great smiles in return.

  The entire household of the mansion stood on the lawn waiting for Liaze and Luc and their escort to come riding out from the brightly hued forest. There as well stood King Valeray and Queen Saissa, for they had come the previous day on their annual rade. Too, Borel and Michelle and a pack of Wolves waited, for they had returned from Roulan Vale and had stopped at the manor on their way to the Winterwood.

  And a great shout of Hoorah greeted the princess and the men as they emerged at last from the trees. And, unable to contain themselves, the gathering rushed forward to greet Liaze and Luc and the others, Zoé squealing in delight and leading the charge, with her dress hiked up to run, Rémy and Zacharie more dignified, yet not far behind. And the household surrounded the princess and her truelove, and they called out questions, voices babbling over one another.