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Once upon a Summer Day fs-1

Page 34

by Dennis McKiernan


  “Three,” said Borel.

  “Three?”

  “Conies,” said Borel.

  “Your Wolves can count?” asked Chelle.

  Borel frowned. “Perhaps. But I know it was three because Trot said they each caught one.”

  “Ah,” said Chelle. “Three for the Reaper.”

  “Two only,” said Borel. “They ate the other themselves.”

  As sunset drew near, they came unto another twilight marge, and they crossed over to come into the Summerwood.

  The night was balmy and they changed into still lighter clothes even as they made camp.

  The next morn they set out across this forest, the summer day warming, birds singing, insects humming, among them bumblebees. And Borel and Chelle looked for Buzzer, but finally Borel said, “Love, without Flic alongside, these all look like Buzzer to me.”

  Chelle ruefully grinned and said, “Me, too.” Then she frowned and added, “I wonder if all humans look alike to bees?”

  Borel said, “I think Buzzer came to recognize us as separate individuals.”

  Chelle nodded. “We should ask Flic.”

  All that day they rode, and toward evening Gerard spurred nigh. “My lord,” he said, “shall we press on, or instead make camp?”

  Borel looked at Chelle, and she said, “If I understand the meaning beneath Gerard’s question, I advise we camp, else we’ll arrive at Summerwood Manor in the depths of night. I think that not appropriate for either our staff or that of Prince Alain.”

  “We camp, Gerard,” said Borel.

  The next day in midmorn they came to a long slope leading to Summerwood Manor below. Gerard sounded a resonant call on a horn, and as the cry echoed throughout the woodland, the rade progressed downward.

  As they rode, Michelle studied the estate: the mansion itself stood some four or five storeys in height, though here and there it rose above even that; it was broad and deep with many wings, and even courtyards within. The far-flung grounds about the great chateau were surrounded by a lengthy high stone wall, with gates standing at the midpoints, at the moment all closed. Inside the wall there were groves of trees and gardens with pathways through, as well as a small lake, and “Oh, Borel, a hedge maze.”

  Borel smiled and said, “You should try it, love; to find the center is the goal, yet it is the most fun when one gets lost,” and on down the slope they rode.

  Several outbuildings ranged along part of one wall at the back of the manse: a stable, a carriage house, a smithery, barns for the storage of grain and hay, and various utility sheds, some large, others small.

  It was a great deal like her pere’s estate, though on a much grander scale.

  And they rode through one of the gates and along a white stone lane curving between two lines of old oaks standing sentry, their limbs arching overhead and forming a canopy. Across a stone bridge they went, a stream meandering under, with graceful black swans aswimming. They emerged from the oaken canopy, and straight ahead across a broad mead stood the great chateau. And waiting in the forecourt were servants to take charge of the horses.

  They dismounted at a large and deep portico, and Borel offered his arm to Chelle, and into the manse they strode.

  52

  Vows

  At the doorway stood a grey-haired, blue-eyed, lean man dressed in black.

  “Lanval,” said Borel.

  “My lord,” said Lanval, and he looked at Chelle and smiled.

  “Lady Michelle, I present Lanval, steward of Summerwood Manor.” As Lanval bowed, Borel added, “Lady Michelle is Duke Roulan’s daughter, and soon to be mistress of the Winterwood, for we are betrothed.”

  Lanval nodded, yet this was not news to him, for messages between the Winterwood and the other Forests of the Seasons had flown back and forth by falcon.

  “My lord, my lady,” said Lanval. And he gestured and said, “Shall we?” And down the short corridor they stepped to come unto the welcoming hall, where on an inlaid depiction of a green oak in the center of the floor stood a man and three women; and Lanval called out, “My Lord Alain, and my Ladies Celeste, Liaze, and Camille, I present Lord Borel, Prince of the Winterwood, and the Lady Michelle, daughter of Duke Roulan and betrothed of Prince Borel.”

  Borel and Alain bowed, and Celeste, Liaze, Camille, and Michelle curtseyed, and then, unable to contain themselves any longer, Alain and Camille and Celeste and Liaze rushed forward, and hugged and kissed Borel and embraced Chelle, and they all talked at once and laughed and drew the Prince of the Winterwood and his truelove down the hall to a sitting room, where tea and scones and jellies awaited. And as all took seat and Camille served, Alain said, “Well, big brother, you and Michelle have a tale to tell, one we are very interested in hearing. But before you begin, I have the strangest dream to relate to you, a dream shared by everyone in this household: it seems you and a masked”-of a sudden Alain looked at Michelle and said-“Oh, my, it was you! You were the masked lady, Michelle. And you and Borel were here at a gala in Summerwood Manor, and you taught us a strange dance you called the bee dance and-”

  Chelle and Borel looked at one another and broke into laughter, and Borel said, “It seems everyone we shared our shared dream with, shared the same dream with us.”

  Liaze frowned and said, “Frere, you speak in riddles.”

  Borel pushed out a hand and said, “As Chelle told Arnot, it is an effect of the spell she was under.”

  At a questioning look from Celeste, Borel shrugged and added, “It will become clear when we tell our tale, but for now just call it magie.” He turned to Chelle and said, “Cherie, why don’t you begin?”

  Chelle looked at the four eager faces before her, and took a sip of tea and then said, “It was the day of my majority, and my sire the duke had invited many folk to a gala in my honor. Fairies came on high-prancing horses bedecked with silver bells, and from the nearby town of Riverbend came merchants in broughams and…”

  The next day, as all were sitting in Camille’s favorite gazebo, Scruff the sparrow suddenly began chirping, his attention focused on the grounds beyond. And across the hedge maze two iridescent-winged Sprites and a dark bumblebee came winging. And they flew to the railing and alighted-Flic and Fleurette and Buzzer-and all were as naked as the day they were born, but for Flic’s epee and belt, and the moondrop pendant Fleurette now wore, the pendant given Flic by King Arle. And Fleurette was definitely female, with her wee breasts and cleft groin; she had brown hair as did Flic, though her tiny locks held pale highlights within and fell down to the middle of her back. After introductions were made all ’round, Flic said, “We have talked it over, Fleurette and I, and if rings are involved in this silly human ritual you are about to undertake, Lord Alain, Lady Camille, well, hurm, we would be honored to bear them.”

  The very next day, a long horn call in the distance announced the arrival of another rade, and, in cavalcade, up the length of the vale came slim, dark-haired King Valeray, his eyes piercing and grey, much as were Alain’s. And at his side rode Queen Saissa-slender, dark-haired, with arresting eyes of black. How these two could produce Borel with his ice-blue eyes and silvery hair, and Liaze with her eyes of amber and auburn hair, and Celeste with her green eyes and pale blond hair, none could say, though perhaps Fairies were involved, or so went the rumor.

  In Valeray and Saissa’s entourage rode Hierophant Marceau-bald-headed and short and a barrel of a man and seemingly all laughter and cheer… when he wasn’t pontificating.

  And when the king and queen came into the welcoming hall, awaiting them were two sons, two daughters, two daughters-to-be, as well as two Sprites and a sparrow and a humming bee.

  Once again Borel and Chelle told their stories, and when they were done, Valeray said, “Rhensibe, Hradian, Iniqui, and Nefasi: four sisters, all acolytes of Orbane. And Rhensibe came after my old friend Roulan through his daughter. How cruel.”

  “She also tried to prevent Borel’s happiness,” said Alain.

  “What a terrible
thing to do,” said Camille. “Four sisters, acolytes all, and out to gain revenge.”

  Hierophant Marceau made a warding sign and said, “Mithras, protect us.”

  Valeray looked at the rotund priest and then turned back to the others. “I knew of Nefasi. And after Saissa’s and my experience, and Camille and Alain’s as well, we were certain that Hradian was one of Orbane’s acolytes, too. But that there were two more…”

  “Well, at least Rhensibe is dead, Father,” said Liaze, “thanks to Michelle and Borel.”

  “Thank Mithras,” said Marceau, making another warding sign.

  “Thank the Wolves instead,” said Chelle, “for they were the ones who did her in.”

  They sat in silence for long moments, and finally Celeste glanced at Hierophant Marceau and turned to the others and said, “Since it seems we are here to witness Alain and Camille’s vows, let us all take another pledge upon ourselves: that we will do whatever it takes to rescue Lord Roulan and the others, and vow as well that we will do all in our power to stop Orbane’s acolytes from setting that vile wizard free.”

  “Well, I do so pledge,” said Chelle, “and-”

  Of a sudden there came the sound of shuttles and looms, and before the gathering stood three women: Maiden, Mother, and Crone; the Ladies Skuld, Verdandi, and Urd; the Fates Wyrd, Lot, and Doom.

  Borel and Alain and Valeray stood and bowed, as did Flic. And Chelle and Camille and Liaze and Celeste and Saissa curtseyed, as did Fleurette. Buzzer was asleep, and so too was Scruff, and neither bee nor sparrow stirred. Hierophant Marceau did nought, for he had fainted dead away.

  “Be careful what you pledge,” said the Maiden, Skuld.

  “For we will hold you to it,” said the Mother, Verdandi.

  “If not to the letter, at least to the spirit,” said the Crone, Urd.

  Camille said, “ Mesdames, when I was searching for Alain, you did tell me that if Orbane ever escaped the Castle of Shadows beyond the Black Wall of the World, he would pollute the River of Time itself. And so, any pledge to keep that from happening seems worthy.”

  “Indeed it is,” said Skuld, with Verdandi and Urd nodding in agreement.

  “My Lady Wyrd,” said Borel, “since you see the future, have we a chance?”

  “Better yet, have we time?” said Valeray.

  Skuld turned up her hands and said, “I will not say what I have seen, only that a distant peril comes.”

  “This will I say,” said Verdandi, “with the death of Rhensibe, you have seriously set back their plans, though you have also gained even more enmity.”

  “And so, take care, beware,” said Urd, “for they will seek revenge.”

  And the sound of shuttles and looms swelled, but Flic cried out, “Wait!”

  Skuld and Verdandi had already vanished, but Urd yet remained, and she looked at the Sprite, an eyebrow raised.

  “Begging your pardon, Lady Urd,” said Flic, “but I don’t think even for some unknown reason I would ever fall behind, and so I would appreciate it if-”

  But with a cackle of glee, Urd vanished as well, as did the sound of looms.

  The very next day, with the sun standing at the zenith-“A very auspicious time,” declared Hierophant Marceau, follower of Mithras that he was-in the flower gardens of Summerwood Manor a wedding got under way.

  But for the kitchen crew, the staff of Summerwood Manor was present, for none would miss this occasion. Too, those who had accompanied Borel and Chelle from Winterwood Manor were in attendance, as well as Lord Valeray and Lady Saissa’s entourage. And the women stood on the bride’s side of the garden, and the men stood on the groom’s side.

  Of Camille’s kindred none were present, for they were scattered to the four winds: Camille’s father, Henri, had run away with a circus and could not be found; her mother Aigrette was dead of avarice, for she had drowned in a so-called wishing well while trying to fetch coins; Camille’s beloved brother Giles was ruling an isle far over the sea; and of her five sisters, Colette and Felise and the twins Joie and Gai were all very afraid of Faery and hence would not come, and besides, they were occupied raising families; while Lisette-whose very rich old roue of a husband and his panting dogs had all died on the very same night of a mysterious stomach ailment, leaving behind a vast fortune-she was entirely too busy being squired about continental cities by a bevy of young and handsome and muscular men.

  And though none of Camille’s kindred were there, all of Alain’s were.

  As to the wedding party: at the fountain and to the left of Hierophant Marceau stood Alain, with Borel as his best man, and they were dressed in grey. Liaze and Celeste stood opposite, and they were joined by Chelle, maids of honor all and dressed in blue. And Lord Valeray and Lady Saissa were at the head of the spectators, Valeray on the groom’s side, Saissa on the bride’s.

  Scruff and Buzzer sat side by side on a limb above the fountain.

  Flic and Fleurette perched on flowers-white camellias-Flic near the best man, Fleurette near the bridesmaids.

  And as someone played a soft flute, Lanval walked Camille down the aisle in between, for Lanval had been like a father to her.

  And she was dressed in the palest of blue, nearly white, and from a tiara a gauzy veil fell. Down the aisle she seemed to float, and Alain smiled with joy, while Borel glanced across at Chelle and smiled in joy as well.

  Lady Saissa began softly crying, but she stifled her sniffles and managed a smile when Camille stepped past.

  At last, Lanval delivered Camille to the hierophant, and then took his place beside Lord Valeray.

  And all alternately held breath and then sighed as each vow was given and each oath taken, Hierophant Marceau leading the way, and for once he looked rather priestly, in his red robes with the golden sunburst on his chest and his tall miter atop his head.

  On cue, Flic delivered the ring to Borel, and Borel in turn gave it to Alain, and he in turn placed it on a small, round, golden-sunburst pillow before the hierophant.

  Likewise, Fleurette gave the ring to Michelle, and she to Celeste, and she to Liaze, who gave it to Camille, and she placed it on the pillow as well.

  Marceau lifted the pillow and rings up into the sunlight and called out a blessing, and then he lowered all. And the bride and groom then took up the rings and slipped them on one another’s ring finger; first Alain placed his ring on Camille’s hand, and then she on his.

  And Hierophant Marceau declared them officially wed.

  At the gala afterward, Flic was heard to say, “What did I tell you, Fleurette? Ah, these humans and their rites.”

  “I thought it was rather nice,” said Fleurette, and Flic could only gape in surprise.

  And as the celebration went on, there were contests of archery and quoits and croquet. There were games of blindfold tag. And many celebrants went to the hedge maze and tried to find the center. Some were lost for quite a while, and some couples came out with their clothes a bit rumpled or otherwise in disarray. And the sun slid down the sky and set, and dusk darkened the land. Lanterns were lit and placed upon tables and hung among the trees, and the gala went on. But in the twilight there came a horn cry from afar, from down the valley rather than across.

  The horn rang again, and Lanval sent men running to the far gate, and shortly thereafter a rider towing two remounts came galloping up that lane and toward the manor. And he reined up among the festivities. In the light of the lanterns and the rising full moon someone cried, “ ’Tis a slight youth, and he wears a blue tabard with a silver sunburst!”

  Chelle, standing upon the archery range, overheard and said to Borel, “My love, it is the sigil of my sire!” and she ran toward the now-dismounted rider.

  And as she came in among the crowd ranged about the youth she overheard him saying “… dispatched throughout Faery looking for the Lady Michelle, the missing daughter of Duke Roulan. Has anyone here seen a beautiful maiden with golden hair and-”

  The crowd laughed and parted, and Chelle stepped
through.

  “My lady, oh, my lady,” said the youth, dropping to one knee. “You are alive and well, and I have found you.”

  “But, Phillip, I was never lost,” said Chelle. “Yet you, how come you to be here? Last I saw, you were mucking out stables. Were you not caught in Rhensibe’s-” Suddenly, Chelle’s eyes widened in hope. “Can it be that-? Oh, Phillip, what of my pere and mere? Are they-?”

  Phillip stood and said, “They are well. We are all well. When we awoke from the sleep, the Fairies told us that someone named Rhensibe was dead, and with her passing the spindle had stopped spinning, and the spell was broken. But we were in a dreadful desert, and thorns surrounded all. Yet the Fairies working together managed to allay the thorns and restore the vale to its proper place. But you were missing, my lady, and some thought the worst. Yet your sire sent us out to-”

  Phillip’s words were cut short as Chelle screamed in delight and grabbed him and hugged him fiercely. And then she whirled to find Borel standing at hand, and she grabbed him and hugged him fiercely as well.

  “Lady Michelle,” said Phillip, “your pere and mere are terribly worried, and Lady Roulan paces the floor and weeps many nights. But now that you are found, I will ride at speed and-”

  “We must go there, Borel,” said Chelle, “for I would not have my parents think I am lost or a captive or dead.”

  Celeste handed Phillip a goblet of red wine, and the youth gulped it down and said, “We did not even know that we had been in an enchanted sleep, but when the Fairies returned us to Roulan Vale, nearby steaders said-as mortals would reckon it-some twelve years had passed since we had disappeared in a great, whirling black wind.”

  “We know,” said Celeste. “Oh, not that you had been restored, but rather that it had been some twelve years since the wind carried the vale away.-Here, have another glass of wine.”

  “Well things are a proper mess in Riverbend,” said the youth to Celeste’s receptive ear. “People thought dead, their homes and lands occupied by others, businesses taken over, wealth given to heirs, and the like. I mean, the duke’s got a tangle to unsnarl, and a proper one at that.” Phillip gulped down the wine.

 

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