the one chest of drawers, and added the firewood, too.
Dawn came, and Goblins went through the town pounding on doors, rousting everyone out. Lanval lit the candle that stood among wood shavings just ere his own door was hammered upon, and he and Camille stepped outward, she with her rucksack and stave and Scruff in the high pocket, and the last of the golden gifts in the pocket at her waist. As they started away amid the kitchen crew, Camille looked back. Redcaps dropped down from the low roof of the building opposite Lanval’s, and Oh, no! They’re going in to search Lanval’s place once more.
Moments later, one of the Goblins charged back out holding the candle aloft, and he yelled, “You’ll pay for this, you Human dung, once the cham finds out.”
Tears flooded Camille’s eyes, yet she brushed them angrily away. No time for tears, Camille, but for finding a way out of this mess. And she thought furiously, yet nothing of worth came to mind.
It was only as they crossed the drawbridge that she noted that all the slaves were being herded into the castle.
And lo! she found herself walking alongside Blanche, and at Blanche’s side strode Renaud.
“Blanche,” she hissed, “ ’tis me, Camille.”
Blanche gasped, surprise in eyes so dark they were black, and by this feature alone did Camille then know that this was truly her Blanche. “Camille?”
Camille nodded.
Blanche jabbed Renaud and whispered, and Renaud turned his own grey eyes to Camille in surprise.
As they tramped through the jinking passageway through the citadel wall, Camille whispered, “You do not work in the fields?”
Blanche shook her head and reached out and clutched Camille’s hand and said, “None shall work in the fields this day, the day of the chamumi’s wedding.”
Camille sucked in air through clenched teeth, and Blanche squeezed Camille’s hand in sympathy, but ere she could say aught else, they passed into the castle proper and Camille and Lanval and the kitchen crew were separated out and set to cooking, while the remainder of the slaves-all but the rat catchers-were put to work cleaning the great hall, for here would the wedding be held and the cham, chamum, and chamumi would have the chamber look quite splendid on this, Dre’ela’s wedding day.
Breakfast came and went and food was taken to the Bear, and still Camille had no plan. The great hall was swept and shoveled and, time after time, slaves carried litter out through the gates to cast it into the depths of the dry moat.
Midmorning came, and then late morning, and finally, as the last of the trash was borne outward, the great gong sounded, and Redcaps came running, and all the slaves were gathered into the great hall, for Chamumi Dre’ela would have many guests at her nuptials, even if some were nought but Human slaves. And so, with the Goblins wielding scimitars and tulwars and spears and standing ward, all the slaves were gathered in and all the Goblins as well, and the great doors were shut behind, for the chamumi would have no one sneaking out during the upcoming ceremony. Again the gong sounded, and, amid huzzahs from the Goblins, the cham, chamum, and chamumi, and the Bear came down the long stairway, the Bear a pale yellow-brown.
The wedding was at hand.
And Camille could not think of aught to do.
While Goblins yet shouted, the three Trolls took to their thrones, and they left the Bear at the foot of the low dais, perhaps as a sign of his servitude.
Once again the gong sounded.
Silence fell.
Olot stood and held out his hands as if in benediction, and he smiled, his scum-coated tusks gleaming as of fresh, green slime.
And then he bellowed for all to hear, “In but moments my fine and lovely daughter”-a great shout of leering approval broke out, and Dre’ela stood and awkwardly curtseyed, golden spool and shuttle on hemp twine about her neck dangling and swinging, along with stolen rings and brooches and other such, all made into bangles for neck and wrist. She sat back down, not at all modestly, and some Goblins crowded forward the better to see. Nodding his approval, Olot continued: “Soon my fine and lovely daughter will be married to the Prince of the Summerwood.” Now Olot gestured at the Bear, and once again Goblins howled in delight. Olot raised his hands, and when quiet fell, he said, “A prince who is cursed to be a Bear by day, though he may choose to be a Man or a Bear by night, a curse my daughter herself laid upon him for spurning her advances, and now he must wed her, for his Human lover found out he was the Bear. And by my own curse, he and his household were brought to this isle to serve us, for his Human face was seen by his Human lover, who betrayed him despite being warned. And so by the geas set upon him by my clever daughter, he must marry her, and she is greatly aroused by the prospect of mating with a Bear.” Now all the goblins hooted with excitement, and Dre’ela smiled her own tusky smile.
Olot held up his hands, and quietness fell. “Why should we do this? Why mate my daughter to a filthy Human? Or even a Bear? Heed! I have been planning this ever since our former master was thrown into the Great Darkness. Once we were free of him, I said to myself, no more would we bow to any master. Instead, we and our kind will become the masters ourselves. And as masters it is our due to live in the lap of luxury. And we will do so in Summerwood Manor and rule the Summerwood, for, with this marriage, Dre’ela will be the rightful and true princess of all therein.”
At this pronouncement, Chamum Te’efoon hooted with glee and clapped her hands, and all the Redcaps whooped in elation.
Olot let the shouting nearly run its course. Finally he raised his hands and called out, “Now let us get on with the ceremony, and it’s a formality, I know”-he grinned a tusky grin-“but does anyone wish to challenge this wedding?”
And even as Redcaps smirked at one another, from the back of the chamber a small voice said, “I do.”
35
Olot’s yellow Troll eyes flew wide in disbelief. “What?” he roared, glaring out over the assembly, looking for the miscreant.
“I do so challenge!” Camille cried out. “I challenge, for the prince is consort to me!” Shaking off Lanval’s restraining hand and gripping her staff, Camille pushed forward through the throng. As she emerged from the crowd to step toward the low dais, she cast off her head scarf, and her golden hair cascaded down. And many slaves- those from Summerwood Manor-now gasped in recognition.
“You!” cried Chamumi Dre’ela, rage in her eyes.
“You!” cried Olot, lust in his.
The Bear raised his nose in the air and snuffled, then rushed to Camille’s side, and she threw her arms about his neck.
Even as she hugged the Bear, Te’efoon roared, “And just who are you to make such a claim?”
Camille stood and called out, “I am the Princess of the Summerwood, consort of Prince Alain.”
“You claim to be his wife?” shouted Te’efoon. “Were banns posted, a king notified, perhaps the king of Faery?”
Camille stood defiantly, yet she said, “No. No banns. No notification of a king. Yet we are joined by the bonds of love and also by common law.”
“Ha!” shouted Olot. “Since I am the first cham, the first king, to know of this, I deny that a marriage between you and he ever took place.”
But Camille was not to be deterred, for she had finally captured the elusive thought that had skittered ’round the edge of her mind-a thought concerning the Fates and wagers and living up to the terms of a contest. She looked into the faces of all three Trolls on the dais-cham, chamum, and chamumi-and said, “Nevertheless, I do challenge.”
A great hubbub filled the hall, among slaves and Goblins alike, for this chit of a girl challenged a Troll.
