Once upon a dreadful time

“On the morrow,” said Regar. Then he looked at Flic.

“Right?”

“Oui,” replied the Sprite. “We cannot delay in something such as this. I’ll get Buzzer to dance out a course for us.” Regar frowned. “Dance out a course?”

“Oui,” said Flic. “You see, Buzzer can fly the most direct line to anywhere she has been. All we need to do is describe the type of flowers there, and some of the terrain. And she will do a honeybee dance to tell me the direction we must go. It will surely be shorter than the one Borel, Buzzer, and I followed when we were on the quest to rescue Lady Michelle.” Blaise glanced at Buzzer and said, “Honeybee dance? But she is not a honeybee.”

“Non, she is not,” said Flic, “but I taught her the dance and she adopted it immediately.”

“There is a story here for the telling,” said Regar. “But I must say that I don’t know any of the kinds of flowers that grow in my father’s domain.”

Flic grinned. “You forget, my prince, that both Buzzer and I have been there ere now.”

. .

In the Springwood, as Roel dried off, he said, “I wonder if any of the others ran afoul of the Three Sisters?” Vidal frowned and said, “Sieur Roel, I would not characterize coming across any of the Fates as ‘running afoul’ of them.” Roel smiled at the dignified, silver-haired steward. “Think you they might take offense?”

“Who knows?” asked Vidal, casting his eyes skyward.

Roel laughed, then sobered. “Still, I wonder.”

“If others did indeed receive redes from the Ladies Wyrd and Lot and Doom, then surely things are dire,” said Vidal.

Roel frowned. “Hmm. . Isn’t it true that they only appear when one or more of Valeray’s get are present? If so, then why did Lady Doom appear to Devereau and me?” Vidal shook his head. “Non, Valeray’s get are not necessary for the Fates to show themselves, for they aided Lady Camille, and she was alone.”

“Oui, I had forgotten about Camille, but every other time-

Look, they did appear before Celeste and me on our quest to rescue Avelaine, and they did manifest in front of Camille and Alain and the staff of Summerwood Manor along with the Dwarves of the Nordavind on what was then Troll Isle, as well as at several other gatherings where many were present. And so, setting aside the early part of Camille’s quest, in all of those cases, the get of Valeray were on hand.” Roel paused, his gaze lost in thought. Finally he said, “I wonder why this might be different?”

Vidal shrugged. “None knows the ways of the Fates, Sieur Roel. Certainly not I.”

Roel sighed and laid the towel aside and slipped into a silken robe. “Regardless, if the others think to send messages, we will soon know whether or not any other Sister appeared.” Vidal nodded. “Come the dawn, falcons will fly, and then we shall see.”

Roel yawned and stepped through the doorway and toward the bed. “Even if none else received a cryptic message, at least the Sprite-borne warnings are spreading and the muster has begun.”

Vidal nodded and stepped to the chamber door, where he took up a glass-chimneyed candle to see his way to his own rooms. “Let us pray to Mithras that one of them has found Raseri and Rondalo, and that they have intercepted the witch so that it won’t come to another war with Orbane.”

“Indeed,” said Roel, yawning again as he crawled into the canopied bed.

As the knight pulled the covers about himself, Vidal said,

“Bonne nuit, Sieur, et bon repos, for tomorrow promises to be demanding.”

Roel did not reply, for he was quite sound asleep.

Vidal withdrew and softly closed the door and went into the darkness beyond.

A Murder of Crows

The sun had long set, followed by the moon, and in the darkness of the Springwood and the Summerwood, as well as the Autumnwood and the Winterwood, from within the embraces of the roots of the trees along a key portion of the starwise bounds of each forest, small beings emerged in the night and stealthily climbed upward. And they had with them razor-sharp shards of flint and obsidian, and slender barbs and nooses and other such weaponry, all of a size for the Root Dwellers, and all silent when compared to brute-force smashing weapons, such as hammers and mauls. Out along the limbs the tiny people crept, searching, seeking, hunting for crows, and death came mutely among the birds.

And from deeper within the Springwood and Summerwood and Autumnwood, more Sprites came with long thorns in hand and silently glided toward the trees.

And from Valeray’s demesne, Sprites drifted on wings through the twilight bound, needles and scarfpins and thorns in hand, to join in the murder of crows.

And they settled to the roosts of given trees and at a specified signal, they stabbed through the eyes and into the brains of the ebon birds. Even though slain, the crows fell to the ground and flopped and fluttered for long moments, yet other dark birds asleep in adjacent trees did not note the passing of their

more, the troops of tiny warriors moved to the next set of full roosts.

In the Winterwood it was Ice Sprites who popped from frozen pond to icicle to ice-laden limbs, seeking blackbirds who perched on ice, and there the winter Sprites reached forth with their tiny fingers to oh-so-lightly touch the birds at the places where they grasped the clad branch; and the Sprites froze them to death, while the Root Dwellers of that forest slew the ones who sat on ice-free roosts.

When morning came in these four domains, the floor of each woodland along those portions of the starwise margins was littered with dead birds, like black leaves fallen to ground.

Leave-taking

At dawn the day after Luc, Roel, Laurent, and Blaise and their guides had ridden away, Michelle and the Winterwood retainers as well as Avelaine and half of the Springwood warband prepared to set out for their respective manors. At Sieur Emile’s manse, Avelaine would pick up a small escort of men and ride on to her home in Port Mizon, there where her husband Vicomte Chevell readied a battlefleet with the intent of once and for all clearing out the corsair stronghold on the island fortress of Brados. Just how a release of Orbane from the Castle of Shadows might affect this seafaring mission, none could say, for Orbane was not noted for conflicts upon the brine, but the warring of armies on land instead.

Regardless, Michelle would be at Winterwood Manor by morrow eve to await the arrival of Borel, while Avelaine’s return to her port city would take a seven-day altogether.

Borel embraced Michelle and said, “I’ll be on my way the very moment the closing ceremonies are done; the Wolves and I will press through the night, so look for me the morning following the eve we get quit of this faire.” Lady Simone kissed Avelaine and said, “Take care, my daughter, for there is more than just you to worry about. I would not have my future grandchild placed in jeopardy.” Sieur Emile gently embraced Avelaine. “Avi, heed your mother, for in war, who knows what might come. Thank Mithras you live by the sea and should be fairly safe, for the war will be fought aland. Even so, the battles might come close, so be ready to hie to a safer place.”

“Oh, la,” said Avelaine. “I think this Orbane, even if he does get free, will be put down by you and the king and his men, to say nought of Rollie and Blaise and Laurent.”

“And Luc,” said Liaze, gazing toward the duskward bound beyond which lay her realm.

“Mais oui,” said Avelaine. “I did not mean to leave him out, nor Borel and Alain. All will do magnificently, of that I am certain.”

A tall, dark-haired man approached and said, “Lady Michelle, we are ready.”

“Oui, Armsmaster Jules,” replied Michelle to the warband leader.

“We are ready as well,” said stocky, redheaded Anton, captain of the Springwood warband.

Quick embraces were exchanged all ’round, and Valeray, Saissa and their get, as well as Camille and Duran,