Once upon a dreadful time

Affirmation

“And you think it was Hradian?”

“Papa, we are not certain of that at all,” said Camille.

Valeray shook his head and sighed in resignation. “Still, who else would be after the key?”

“Indeed,” said Liaze, “who else?”

“And she took on your shape?”

“Oui. Luc thought it was me and gave over the amulet to keep it safe.”

“And this crow. . Hradian, too?”

Camille nodded. “You saw Scruff pursue it, Papa, and Regar said it had a dark aura about.”

“Still, it might have been a Changeling,” said Valeray, “dark aura or no.”

They sat in a side chamber off the grand ballroom, did Liaze, Celeste, Camille, and Valeray. The room itself was appointed in blue and served as a private chamber for intimate gatherings of the king and a handful of his guests; hence it wasn’t as if the royalty had rushed off in panic, but instead had momentarily retired, perhaps simply to talk over their echecs matches and relax.

“And this Regar, he’s the grandson of the Fairy King?” Camille turned up a hand. “So he implied.”

“Then that would make him a prince.”

“Borel introduced him as such,” said Celeste.

From beyond the closed door there came muted applause as, no doubt, someone had achieved a clever victory.

Valeray stood. “Let us return to the matches, for I would not have our absence noted. Besides, there’s nought we can do until the scouting party returns, and that might be awhile, for they could be on a long chase.”

Camille got to her feet. “You go, Papa, and Celeste and Liaze, too, for since I lost my first match, I will keep watch and let you know when Alain and the others get back.” Valeray looked at her in mild surprise. “You lost?”

“Oui. After Scruff’s agitated display, I could not concentrate.” Liaze nodded and glumly said, “Had we only known what upset him so, mayhap we would still have the key.” Camille made her way to one of the upper balconies. She stood in the warm summer night and looked out over the faire and the people within.

Camille frowned, for the usual sounds of laughter and music did not ring. Instead she heard excited chatter- So much for keeping them calm. I wonder what got them so stirred-and many stood on the far edge and peered toward the forest.

Camille looked beyond the grounds, and, there at the verge of the woods, torches cast light on seven horses and three riders, and they seemed to be waiting. Deeper within the forest itself, a light gleamed, yet dark boles of trees and cast shadows obstructed the view, and so Camille could not tell what was occurring therein.

It must be Alain and the others. Oh, please, Mithras, let them all be safe.

Even as she watched, the glimmer within the woodland began to move, and shortly a borne lantern and a high-held torch showed four men and Wolves emerging. Who they are I cannot tell, though with the pack at hand, one of them must be Borel.

The four mounted up, and they slowly rode back toward the castle, the Wolves ranging fore and aflank and aft.

They do not seem to be tracking ought. I think they return from a fruitless search.

She watched as they rode through the gathering, and the crowds gave way before them, especially before the Wolves, and voices called out, but the men rode grimly on and did not reply.

Little do the people know the calamity that has befallen this day, with disaster to follow if Orbane is set free.

Over the bridge and into the courtyard and toward the stables the riders and Wolf pack fared, and Camille stepped back from the balcony and into the castle proper and went down the spiral stairs, making her way toward the ballroom to signal Valeray and the others that the men had returned.

. .

One at a time, so as to not alarm the echecs contestants, the royalty slipped from the grand ballroom to make their way up to the war chamber high in a tower central to the castle, a room with windows overlooking all approaches to the holt. Camille stepped out first, and she swiftly went to the stables and led the men to the chamber, where they awaited the arrival of the others, and one by one they drifted in: Liaze, Celeste, and finally Saissa and Valeray.

Both the king and queen looked upon Regar in puzzlement, and Borel said, “Sire, Dam, this is Prince Regar of the Wyldwood, grandson to the Fairy King. He went with us on the search.”

Valeray frowned and then his eyes lit in recognition. “Ah, I remember: you are the bowman who nearly won the contest at archery. Welcome, Prince.”

Regar bowed and replied, “Bastard prince at best, my lord, for the Fairy King did not wed my grandmother.”

“Nevertheless,” said Valeray, “in my halls you are a prince.”

He gestured toward the broad map table. “Let us be seated and speak of what you found.”

As soon as all were ensconced in chairs, Valeray turned to Borel and said, “What came to pass?”

Borel glanced at the others and said, “While Roel and the others were gathering the horses, Alain, Luc, the Wolves, and I went to Luc’s tent at the dawnwise end of the arena, and there we. .”

. .

“. . and that’s when the Bear came to the end of the trail.” Saissa said, “The Bear and the Wolves went through the center of the faire?”

“Oui, Maman.”

“I imagine that startled them.”

“Oui, Maman, yet there was no other way to follow the imposter to the source.” Regar looked at Alain in wonderment, and Alain smiled and shrugged a shoulder.

As the vial made its way ’round to Luc, to be slipped back into the pocket of his waistcoat, King Valeray sighed. “And so, to summarize what you have told me: Hradian came to ground in the woodland, went through the heart of the faire unnoticed, perhaps in a glamoured form; she paused at the dawnwise end of the arena and took on the guise of Liaze, mayhap using a potion; then she inveigled the amulet from Luc, after which she fled.”

“Oui, Papa,” said Alain, with Borel and the others nodding in glum agreement.

“Given the word of the Wolves and that of the Bear,” said Camille, “it was no Changeling that Scruff flew after, but instead it was Hradian in the shape of a crow, or glamoured to look like a crow, when she took flight, amulet in hand.” In the pall that followed, Luc slammed a fist to the table and exclaimed, “What a fool am I!”

“Non, Luc,” said Valeray. “Fooled, oui; a fool, non.”

“But I thought it peculiar that Liaze would ask for the key,” replied Luc. He shook his head and added, “I should have known it was not my truelove, but an imposter instead.” Even as Liaze reached out and took Luc’s hand, there came a tapping at the door, and servants entered bearing a tea service and a platter of small appetizers. They were followed by the steward of the Castle of the Seasons, a tall and spare blue-eyed man with dark hair touched by silver, who asked, “My lord, will you be dining herein?”

“Non, Claude. As before, we will be in the gold room. Set an extra plate for Prince Regar.”

“Oui, my lord,” said Claude, and he signaled the staff and they withdrew.

As Queen Saissa poured, and they passed the filled cups around, along with the appetizers-sauteed mushrooms stuffed with a light cheese-King Valeray sighed in resignation. “I suppose there’s nothing for it but that we must raise our armies and alert the realms and notify the Firsts.”

“The Firsts?” asked Regar.

“The first of each Kind to appear in Faery,” said Valeray.

“They were critical in defeating Orbane the last time, for they could raise whole armies; even so, Orbane alone held them off until we found a way to banish him to the Castle of Shadows in the Great Darkness beyond the Black Wall of the World.”

“Ah, I see. And if I understand correctly, this talisman the witch did steal, it is the key that will unlock him.”

“Oui.”

There came a discreet tap at the door, and, at Valeray’s call, Claude entered. “My lord, there is someone who urgently requests an audience. He says he has-” His iridescent wings but a blur, into the chamber hurtled Flic, the tiny Sprite darting this way and that. “My lord Valeray, my lord Borel, my lady Celeste,” called the tiny Sprite, and for a moment he seemed confused as to which person he should address-Valeray the king; or Borel, his old companion; or Celeste, the princess of the Springwood. Finally, he landed before the king. “In the Springwood,” Flic gasped, “the Springwood, my lord-”

“Take a deep breath, Flic,” said Valeray, “and gather your wits.” Valeray then turned to Claude. “How did he come?”

“Through the grand ballroom, my lord, calling out for you or Prince Borel or Princess Celeste.”

Valeray sighed and said, “Claude, make certain the guests therein are not alarmed by his appearance and obvious distress.

Allay any fear they might have.”

“Oui, my lord,” said the steward, and he withdrew.

Puffing and blowing, at last Flic managed to quiet his panting, and, with a final deep breath and slow exhalation, he bowed and said, “My lord.”

“Now, Flic, this news you bear,” said Valeray, smiling.

“My lord, the witch Hradian-Fleurette and I think it was she-is within the Springwood; she flies sunwise.”

“As we thought,” groaned Luc.

Flic puckered his brow and turned toward the knight. “You knew she was there?”

“We were somewhat certain that she had left my demesne,” said Valeray. He looked at the gathering and said, “And given what we now know, it seems likely the witch you saw was indeed Hradian.”

“Are you positive that it was Hradian in my demesne?” asked Celeste. “Could it have been a different witch?”

“Mayhap, my lady,” said Flic. “Yet the one we saw fits the description given Fleurette by Lady Camille, and the one Lord Borel told to me: a knot of darkness streaming shadows.”

“With that depiction,” said Camille, “I agree: Flic and Fleurette saw Hradian.”

“Oh, and there is this,” said Flic, “the witch seemed to be talking to a great flock of crows-dreadful savages that they are-and they scattered in all directions, and then she flew away.”

Valeray frowned. “Speaking to crows?”

“Oui, but I know not what she said.”

“Why would she be speaking to crows?” asked Regar, and he looked about the table and saw only frowns of puzzlement.

After a moment Borel asked “Where is Fleurette?”

“She and Buzzer are in this demesne, just this side of the dawnwise bound, Lord Borel. Though a day late, we were on our way to the faire, and we had just settled for the night, what with Buzzer needing to sleep when the eventide begins to flow.”

“Exactly where did you see the witch?” asked Celeste.

“In the Springwood nigh your starwise border. The racket of the crows awoke us, and Hradian was on a tor talking to them, the flock swirling about and listening.”

“Across my own dawnwise marge?” asked Valeray.

“Oui, my lord, just barely.”

“Think you she had just come from my demesne?” Flic shrugged. “That I know not, my lord, yet if she were travelling in a straight line, she would have been flying sunwise as she entered the Springwood, and sunwise she did continue.” Silence fell, and Flic asked, “Why would she be here?” Valeray sighed and said, “She took the key to the Castle of Shadows, and with it she will set Orbane free.”

“Mithras!” exclaimed Flic, aghast. “What should we do?”

“As I said before you arrived, Flic, we have no choice but to raise our armies, warn the realms, and notify the Firsts.”

“My lord,” said Camille, “there is something else we simply must try: summon the one who can intercept Hradian and recover the amulet.”

“And that would be. .?”

“Raseri, my lord. Raseri.”

“Know you where he might be?”

“Non, yet Chemine might know, for her son Rondalo rides with the Drake.”

Valeray nodded and said, “We will need a swift messenger.”

“Sprites,” said Flic. “We are the swiftest messengers and, not only can we reach Chemine ere anyone, we can also alert the realms and notify the Firsts and, can we alert all Sprites, surely one of us will know where flies Raseri and Rondalo, or if not, can find them swiftly. What do we say to Raseri?”

“He must be told to fly to the Black Wall of the World, there to wait and intercept Hradian and recover the key-a simple silver amulet on a silver chain and set with a blue stone,” said Camille.

“Then let us Sprites bear the word,” said Flic.

“Well and good,” Valeray. “I will summon those of this demesne and give them the charge to rally all Sprites everywhere to spread the alarm throughout Faery and especially to alert the Firsts.”

“Oh, my,” said Camille.

“What is it, cherie?” asked Alain.

“What if Hradian anticipated that we would ask the Sprites to carry warnings to all, and that’s why she raised the crows.”

“My lady, your meaning?” asked Laurent.

But it was Flic who answered: “Crows are terrible enemies of Sprites. Whenever one of those black devils gets a chance, it will try to snatch up one of us.”

“And. .?” asked Laurent.

“And tear us to shreds and swallow us down,” growled Flic.

“Then we need to send messengers the crows cannot deter,” said Blaise.

“People, you mean?” asked Laurent.

“Wait a moment,” protested Flic. “What makes you think Sprites are not people?”

“I meant Humans,” said Laurent.

Flic huffed, but said nought.

“We will send both,” said Valeray.

“My lord,” asked Regar, “is one of these Firsts the Fairy King?”

“Oui. And he has a splendid army; it was key in delaying Orbane’s conquest until we could find a way of stopping him.”

“Then I would like the duty of bearing the warning to him.”

“Know you the way?”

“Non.”

“But I do,” said Flic. “Lord Borel and I went to his Halls Under the Hills when we were saving Lady Michelle.”

“Then you and Regar will take on that task,” said Valeray.

He turned to the others and asked, “Who knows the way to Lady Chemine?”

“I do,” said Camille, “and so does Scruff. We also have been to Raseri’s lair.”

Even as Valeray winced at the thought of sending Camille on such a mission, “My lord,” said Luc, “methinks should you send Lady Camille to find Raseri and Regar to the Fairy King, by the time they succeed it will simply be too late. Non, Flic had the right of it when he said Sprites are the swiftest of messengers. We Humans would simply slow them down.”

“But the crows. . ” said Liaze.

“We can fly at night,” said Flic, “when the crows are not likely to be awake.”

“My lord,” said Alain. “You say we are to raise armies, and that I am most willing to do, yet, though we have been in skirmishes, I have no experience in warcraft and neither does my armsmaster-battle, oui, but warcraft, non. Celeste has Roel and Liaze Luc, both war-trained and knights bold. I would ask that Blaise be my war commander.”

“And I Laurent,” said Borel.

“But who will organize the army of the Castle of the Seasons?” asked Saissa.

“Sieur Emile,” said Luc. “He has fought in many a campaign, I hear.” Laurent and Blaise and Roel all nodded.

“He can command the combined army as well,” said Luc.

“Let it be so,” said Valeray.

. .

Dinner was called, and to the gold room they went, where they were joined by Sieur Emile and Lady Simone and Vicomtesse Avelaine. Valeray took a moment to introduce Regar and Flic to them and to tell of the calamity that had come to pass.

Upon hearing the ill news, Michelle turned to Regar and said, “In addition to the Fairy King and his army, we need enlist the aid of the distaff side-the good Fairies themselves-for they are most wise in the ways of magic.” Even as Regar nodded, Valeray shook his head and said, “For some reason those so-named good Fairies refused to use their powers in the last war.”

“What of the rumor that Orbane has some Fairy blood flowing in his veins?” asked Saissa.

Valeray shrugged. “ ’Tis but a rumor.”

“Still, I will ask for their help,” said Regar.

“What of magekind?” asked Camille. “Will they not rally round?”

Again Valeray shook his head. “As to the mages, all of those who opposed Orbane were slain in that dreadful war. I think they will refuse.”

A pall fell upon the gathering, and they sat quietly throughout the meal, but afterward their spirits seemed to recover, and once again they took up the task of how to deal with Orbane, should he be set free of his prison.

And the planning continued deep into the night. .

. . As did the revelry outside the walls, where gaiety and laughter and singing and games and trysts lasted through much of the darktide as well, the minstrels and jugglers and stilt-walkers and vendors and faire-goers and lovers and others completely unaware of the doom about to fall.