we might find you two hiding here. But, sit! Sit! We’ve come to ask about-Why, Borel, you look positively morose on this gloomy day.”
Camille gave Alain a light kiss on the cheek, and then looked at Borel and asked, “Why so glum, Brother-to- be?”
“I’ve had a vision,” said Borel.
“Or a dream,” said Alain.
Borel nodded. “Or a dream.”
“Oh, my, Frere,” said Celeste, her face growing somber. She pointed at the large round game table with chairs all about and taroc cards strewn on its surface. “Let us sit, and then do tell us of this dream or vision of yours.”
As soon as all had settled, Borel related his vision to them, and when he had come to the end, he once again stated that it might have just been a dream.
Liaze shook her head. “Oh, no, Borel. I think it must have been a visitation, for if it were a mere reve or songe, then it would not bother you so.”
“She spoke in the Old Tongue?” asked Celeste.
Borel nodded. “ ‘Aidez-moi,’ she said-‘Help me’-and no more. Yet how can I do so when I know not where she is?”
In that moment the sparrow chirped and flew down to the table and pecked at one of the cards.
“Mayhap Scruff has the right of it,” said Camille, pointing at the bird.
“What do you mean?” asked Borel, as Celeste reached out and began drawing all the taroc cards to her, and Scruff flew across the room to the echecs table where he had first found the two men.
“Just this,” said Camille. “Could we read the taroc, perhaps it has a clue as to what to do.”
“Ah, but we are not seers, hence cannot read the cards,” said Celeste, as she gathered the last of the deck and began shuffling.
Camille frowned and said, “Lisane can.”
“Oui,” said Borel. “The Lady of the Bower. Even so, aren’t her messages rather vague, hard to interpret until after the fact?”
Camille nodded. “It was only in hindsight that I understood.”
“Then,” said Borel, “I think she cannot help, for if it is a true vision, then the lady in the stone tower needs help now.”
“Perhaps so, Borel,” said Liaze. “Yet there is nought you can do until you know more.”
“Are you telling me to go about my business and forget the vision?” asked Borel.
Liaze shook her head. “Borel, I think you must follow your heart. Even so, I deem that until you have more knowledge, there is little you can do… unless you happen upon someone who knows of a blindfolded lady in a stone tower surrounded by daggers.”
A quietness fell in the chamber, and only Scruff across the room and scrabbling among the echecs pieces interrupted the still. Finally Camille said, “Perhaps she’ll send you another vision.”
As Borel nodded glumly, somewhere in the distance a bell rang.
“Dinner,” said Alain, standing.
Celeste set the deck aside and stood as well, as did they all, and started out. Borel paused a moment and cut the cards and looked at the one turned up. It was the Tower, lightning striking the top, men plummeting down among the shattered and plunging stone. Borel sighed and shook his head and replaced the card and then joined the others.
Camille took Alain’s arm, and Liaze and Celeste, one on each side, took Borel’s, and they all trooped out, and none noticed the board on which the wee sparrow had been scratching and pecking away at the pieces: nearly all were gathered in the center and lying on their sides: spearmen, warriors, hierophants, kings and one queen. On the other hand, the four towers yet sat upright in their corners. And in the midst of all the downed echecsmen, the white queen stood surrounded.
3
“ What about the Lady of the Mere?” said Camille, setting aside her spoon. She looked at Alain and added, “Without her aid I never would have found you.”
“Lady Sorciere?” said Borel.
“Yes,” said Camille. “That is one of her names. Another is Skuld, She Who Sees the Future.”
“Lady Wyrd, you mean, one of the Fates,” said Borel.
“Another of her names,” said Camille. “Regardless, perhaps she can help you with this vision of yours.”
“If she is willing,” said Alain. “She doesn’t come at just anyone’s beck.”
Celeste nodded in agreement. “It is told that something must be of vital import, else she will not appear.”
Borel sighed and shook his head. “I do not think I will disturb Lady Wyrd at her mere unless the apparition comes once again and I am truly convinced she is real. After all, I might merely have had a dream.”
Alain looked ’round the table, then took up the small bell and rang it, and servants swept in and removed the soup bowls, and others came with dishes and platters and crystal decanters of red wine and stemmed glasses, and moved about and served, and then quickly vanished again.
Borel held his wine up to the light, as if seeking guidance within its ruby depths. “Besides, I would return to the Winterwood to see if the witch Hradian yet dwells therein.”
“Wait, Borel,” said Camille. “Did you not propose to Lord Valeray that after the wedding we would get a warband together and run the witch down?”
“Oui,” said Borel. “Even so, I would go and see if she yet stays in that cote of hers.”
A grim look came into Alain’s eye. “Facing a witch alone is perilous. I will go with you.”
“No, no, Frere,” said Borel, pushing out a hand of negation. “I do not intend to face her unless there is no other choice. Besides”-he smiled at Camille, then turned to Alain again-“you will be needed here to prepare for the wedding.” He glanced at Celeste and Liaze and added, “As will you two.”
Camille sighed and took her knife to the veal cutlet. “I don’t know, Borel. I think you should wait. Hradian is a formidable foe. I agree with Alain: to go alone would be a mistake.”
“But I will not be alone,” said Borel. “My Wolves-”
“I think they cannot protect you from a curse,” said Liaze.
Celeste frowned at Borel. “Heed, Frere: she is a witch and likely to have wards about.”
Borel waved a negligent hand, then took a sip of his wine, and Celeste expelled her breath in exasperation.
Camille set aside her knife. “From what the Lady of the Bower said, and from what I have deduced, she is a priestess of, or at least an acolyte of, the Wizard Orbane, the one who created those terrible tokens of power-the Seals of Orbane-perhaps in his strongholt on Troll Isle.”
“I am told it is no longer called Troll Isle, Sister-to-be,” said Borel, grinning, “but L’ile de Camille instead, so named in honor of you after your warband slew the Trolls and Goblins and set Alain and the captives free.”
“Try not to distract me with flattery, Borel,” said Camille, “for no matter the name of the isle, still it once was Orbane’s strongholt, and it was there I believe Hradian found several of those dreadful seals. I am certain it was she who gave two of them to the Trolls, and they used them to lay the curses upon Alain. Too, Hradian mayhap used another when she ensorcelled your pere and mere. And if she yet has some of them, indeed you will be in grave peril.”
“If that be the case,” said Borel, “I would rather go alone than subject any of you to the hazard. Besides, I do not intend to confront her head-on, but rather to use stealth and guile, and one alone is certainly more stealthy than the five of us would be. Hence, with nought but my Wolves and me seeking her, I have better prospects of not being noted.”
