Once upon a Spring morn

18

Missive

A cross the deeps sped the Sea Eagle, bearing a cargo of recovered wealth along with a treasured map, bearing as well a letter written by Princess Celeste to be dispatched to Springwood Manor telling everyone that she and Roel had survived and were even then on the way to the Changeling realm.

On the deck paced Vicomte Chevell, captain of this three-masted, full-rigged craft, and he eyed the sails and asked Destin if they were making the best of the wind.

“Oui,” replied the bosun. “We’re flying all canvas and the wind is on our beam, and nought better can she do.” And so the craft sliced through the waves with all due haste, the Eagle bound for Port Mizon.

On the third day after setting out from Port Cient,

“Land ho!” cried Thome, lookout on the foremast above.

“Mizon dead ahead.”

“Steady as she goes,” said Chevell.

“Aye, aye, My Lord Captain,” replied Gervaise, the helmsman.

A candlemark later, Chevell debarked from a swift gig and sprang into the saddle of a waiting horse. In haste he rode to the palace, but e’en ere seeing King Avelar, he stepped to the stable where the king’s messengers stood by. “Quint!” he called, and a lithe lad sprang down from the loft, his pants unbuttoned and his shirttail out, and there came a giggle from above.

“My lord?” he said, grinning, while stuffing in his shirt and buttoning his breeks and buckling his belt.

Chevell handed the lad a letter. “Quint, grab a remount and take your fleetest steed. Be as swift in delivering this as you are with the ladies.”

“Where be I going, my lord?”

“To Springwood Manor. Know you the way?”

“Oui, my lord. ’Tis where Giselle lives.”

“Ha! My boy, have you a doxy in every port?”

“Well, my lord, I would not call them doxies, but, oui, I know many a femme. ” Quint grinned. “Such is the life of a king’s messenger that he spends much time in households away.”

“Then be on your way, lad.” Chevell handed the youth a golden coin. “Take care, and see this gets into the hands of the steward himself, or if not him, then give it over to the armsmaster.”

“Someone in charge, my lord,” said Quint, leading a saddled and provisioned horse out from its stall, and then another to tether to that mount.

Moments later, away galloped the lad, Chevell watching him go.

Then the vicomte turned, and he made his way across the yard toward the palace, for there was much to tell the king.