Once upon a dreadful time

Reaper

Just after the noontide, Luc and Maurice came to a long slope leading down into a wide meadow, in which a rich stand of grain grew. High on the slope stood a massive oak, and ’neath its widespread limbs sat a very large man with a great scythe across his knees. As Luc and Maurice slowed to a trot and headed for the scarlet- and gold-leafed tree, the man stood and grounded the blade of his scythe and swept his hat from a shock of red hair and bowed.

Luc called out, “Bonjour, Reaper.”

“Bonjour, Prince Luc,” the Reaper replied as he straightened up and donned his cap. Huge, he was, seven or eight feet tall, and he was dressed in coarse-spun garb, as would a crofter be.

Luc reined to a halt next to the large man and dismounted, and Maurice followed suit, and both knight and guide began changing saddles to remounts.

“What news, my lord?” asked the Reaper.

“Ill word, I’m afraid, Moissonneur.”

“Ill word?”

“Oui. It seems the witch Hradian has come into possession of a token to set free the wizard Orbane from his imprisonment.”

“That is ill news indeed,” said the Reaper.

“If so,” replied Luc, “we will need all the aid we can summon.”

“My lord, I will come when the time is right.” Luc frowned at this odd turn of phrase, yet he said, “We will welcome you,” and both he and Maurice mounted up.

Luc then saluted the Reaper, and the huge man bowed in acknowledgment and watched as the two galloped away.

Then the Reaper sat down with his back to the great oak and positioned his huge scythe across his knees and smiled unto himself.