Once upon a Spring morn

43

Failure

The warband paused at a crossroads to feed and water the animals and to take food and drink themselves. Borel looked at the stars and sighed and said, “ ’Tis the mid of night of the dark of the moon.

We can no longer save Avelaine. In that, we have failed.”

“ ’Twas the bloody swamp,” growled Chevell. “Had it not delayed us. .”

“Avelaine is not the only sister needing aid,” said Alain. “If Celeste is a captive, we can still rescue her, as well as Roel and his brothers.”

“How far?” asked Luc.

Borel unfolded the vellum. “Two borders remain; at the second one we will enter the Changeling realm. As to where therein we need to go, I cannot say, other than we must reach wherever our sister might be. After that, we can deal with finding Roel and his brothers.”

“If she is a prisoner,” said Luc, “I would think the Changeling Lord’s palace is the most likely place he would hold her.”

“Or manor or tower or wherever it is that he lives,” said Chevell.

“We have spoken of this all along the way,” said Alain, “and I say we must ask those living therein as to where their lord dwells.”

“What makes you think that by asking Changelings they will tell the truth?” asked Chevell.

“What else would you suggest, Vicomte?” coldly asked Alain.

“Mayhap holding a sword to their throat,” shot back Chevell.

“Peace,” growled Borel. “We are weary, and there is no need to squabble among ourselves.” Luc grunted his agreement. He glanced about and saw that the horses and men were done. “Let us ride.” And so, worn down and testy and somewhat dispirited, they all mounted up and galloped onward, midnight of the dark of the moon now gone.