“You did?”
“Oui. And so did Laurent and Blaise. Did you not get the messages we sent?”
“Non. I was already on the way.”
“Ah, well then, let me tell you what they said. . ”
. .
“. . and so you see, their redes are quite puzzling. Have you any glimmer of what they might mean? — Other than the obvious, that is?” Avelaine shook her head. “Non, Rollie. But, oh, what terrible words they spoke.” Roel sighed and nodded in agreement. “The coming days might be grim, Avi, and here you are with child; you must needs take care of yourself.”
“I know, Rollie, I know.”
A grizzled retainer came into the manor and stood nigh and waited to be recognized. Avelaine turned to him. “Oui, Malon?”
“The horses, they be ready, Vicomtesse.”
Avelaine nodded, and, following Malon, she and Roel walked out to the forecourt. Another retainer led a horse to her.
Avelaine took Roel by the hands and said, “You are the one to take care, Rollie, for if it comes to the worst of it, you will be in battle.”
Roel shrugged, and then he fiercely embraced his sister and kissed her on the forehead, and she kissed him on the cheek.
She mounted up and, with a bright smile, wheeled about and rode away, finally letting tears spill down her cheeks.
Roel watched her go, his vision blurred by tears unshed, for well he knew that perhaps this would be the last time they would see one another. And when she and her band disappeared into the surrounding woodland, Roel turned on his heel and ran back into the manor, where men were making ready for war.
. .
Lady Michelle sat at breakfast with Sieur Laurent. She looked across the table and said, “It seems you have things well underway.”
“Oui, yet there is much to do-training, equipping, forging, fletching, and the like. All the other manors are doing likewise.
Yet I feel we are at somewhat of a disadvantage, for I know nought of this foe and his manner of battle, and I think that my brothers are just as ignorant of his means as am I. Perhaps even Luc has no knowledge of this wizard and his method of waging war. Tell me, my lady, what can you say of Orbane? What is his aim?”
Michelle turned up a hand. “I know only that of which my father has spoken, for I was not yet born when last Orbane inflicted his evil upon Faery. Still, he and his armies of Goblins and Bogles and Trolls came close to conquering all.” Michelle fell silent for a moment, but then added, “-Oh, as to his aim, this I do know: Camille says the Fates told her if Orbane gets loose, he would pollute the River of Time, yet what that might mean, I cannot say.”
“River of Time?”
“Oui. It seems that somewhere in Faery, time flows in a silvery river, and along this flow is where the Three Sisters fashion the Tapestry of Time: Skuld weaving what she sees of the future; Verdandi fixing present events into the weft and warp of the fabric; Urd binding all forever into the past.”
“Hmm. .” Laurent paused for a sip of tea, and then said,
“Where is this river?”
“That I do not know.”
“Then where does it empty into the ocean?”
“Again, I do not know, yet Camille speculates it flows out of Faery to spread over the mortal world, for time itself does not seem to touch Faery, though some say it originates herein.”
“And so, polluting the River of Time would harm the mortal world?”
“If Camille is right, then I suppose it would.” Laurent clenched a fist. “We must not let that happen.” A sad smile passed over Michelle’s face, and she nodded but said nought.
Laurent frowned and said, “The riddles of the Fates said nought about any River of Time.”
“But they did speak of conflict,” said Michelle, who had heard of the redes upon reaching her manse. “And I fear for the lives of all the young men should war come.” Laurent pushed out a hand of negation. “My lady, we will not strip the Winterwood of all vigorous young men, for some must stay to defend the realm, as well as to care for those who need tending.”
There came a polite cough, and Michelle turned to see the steward of the Winterwood-a dark-haired, light- blue-eyed, slender man-standing at the entrance to the overlook chamber.
“Arnot?”
“Princess, an Ice Sprite has brought word that Raseri and Rondalo were located late yesternight, and even now they are on their way to the Black Wall of the World.” Michelle cried, “Wonderful!” and clapped her hands. “We must get word to the king, as well as to the other manors.”
“I will send falcons, my lady.”
“Oh, do so immediately, Arnot.”
Arnot inclined his head and then hurried away.
Michelle turned to Laurent. “How utterly splendid. Perhaps it won’t come to war after all.”
“We cannot be certain of that, my lady, even though this is indeed good news.”
. .
In midmorn, a hawkmaster rushed down from the falcon-tower mews, a message capsule in hand. He hurried to the yard where King Valeray and Sieur Emile and the warband were looking over the first group of recruits.
“A message, my lord, from the Winterwood.” Valeray opened the capsule and drew out the tissue-thin scroll. Moments later he whooped. Sieur Emile and the others looked at him. “ ’Tis marvelous news: Raseri and Rondalo are on their way to the Black Wall of the World to intercept Hradian.”
Sieur Emile smiled, but then grew somber. “Let us hope they get there in time.”
“Indeed,” said Valeray. “Now I must take these good tidings to the others.”
Valeray found Celeste and Saissa and Borel in the grass court getting ready to set out to pass among the faire-goers, for with the arrival of men to undergo training, uneasy was the mood.
Upon hearing this, Saissa insisted that she and others go among the folks and reassure them, for as she said, “They should enjoy themselves while they can.”
Upon hearing the falcon-borne message, Saissa asked, “When were they found?”
“Yesternight, late,” said Valeray.
“Then, by now they might have reached the Black Wall. We can but hope for their success.”
“May Mithras watch over them,” said Celeste as she looked past Borel to see three-summers-old Duran running across the sward, his toy horse Asphodel in hand.
Darkness
Dawn came to the village that lay a league or two from the Black Wall of the World, and a young man bearing a knapsack and a walking stave came down to the common room of the inn where he ate a hasty meal. He then paid his fare and set out ere the sun broached the horizon.
Up the hill past the hamlet he hied, and over the crest, and just beyond he threw off the glamour concealing him. . and Hradian mounted her besom and sped toward the ebony darkness looming into the sky.
With one hand she clutched the amulet that would set her master free, and she gloated over her victory in obtaining it in the manner she had, and she reveled over the vengeance she would exact from Valeray and all his get for the deaths of her sisters.
On toward the Black Wall she hurtled, and her heart began to pound, for beyond that towering shade a dreadful darkness lay, and had it not been for her sister Iniqui she would not have known the way to the Castle of Shadows, and to get lost in the blackness would spell her doom. Only incredible fortune would allow someone
