others to be seated as well, and Vadun returned to the cushioned footstool that fitted his size.
“Princess,” said the small being, “Armsmaster Jules has told me the terrible news, yet unless someone in your household has had a dream bearing upon the calamity, I know not how I can help.”
Even as Michelle’s heart sank, Jules said, “He suggested I bring him here, my lady, just in case someone has had such a reve.” At the armsmaster’s words, Vadun smiled, showing rather catlike teeth.
Michelle turned up her hands. “I know of no one who has said so.”
“Princess,” said Arnot, “recall that you and Borel were dream-linked during your imprisonment.”
“Oui. We were.”
Arnot turned to Vadun. “Shouldn’t that help?”
“Perhaps,” murmured the dream seer. “What were the circumstances?”
With her hope rising, quickly Michelle explained.
Vadun sighed and said, “I see. Yet that was an enchanted sleep, and the fact that you could meet one another in your dreams is quite rare, even when one is enspelled, and rarer still in normal sleep, though great love or loyalty aids.” As Michelle’s heart fell again, Laurent said, “I do not seem to recall any of my dreams, yet that doesn’t mean someone else might not have dreamt of Prince Borel or any of the others. We could ask everyone here.”
Vadun again smiled, his features gentle in spite of the sharpness of his teeth. “Sieur Laurent, though it would help, one need not recall a dream for me to. .
“What mean you?”
“Just that I merely need to be in contact, one at a time, with each member of the household.”
“What do you need?” asked Michelle.
“A quiet and peaceful room, preferably smaller than this, darkened and lit by a single candle. It should be furnished with a couch or such in which the member of staff can be at ease, and a comfortable chair for me at the head of the dreamer’s divan. I would also like some mint tea or other such to be brewing and fill the chamber with a pleasant scent.” Michelle looked at Arnot. “The green room?” He nodded. “A good choice, my lady.”
Michelle then turned to Vadun. “Forgive my manners, Voyant Vadun, but have you eaten? And surely you need rest from your travels.”
“I would appreciate a meal, my lady, but I need no rest, for the sooner started the sooner we might know.” ONCE UPON A DREADFUL TIME / 237
Arnot said, “Your pardon, Dreamseer, but what would you have to eat?”
“Some tea would be nice as well as. . might you have a vole?”
Arnot frowned. “Vole? Mean you a mouse?”
“Oui. A mouse will do. Preferably alive.” Inwardly, Michelle shuddered.
. .
Passing among a gaggle of waiting, nervous women, some tittering, Michelle paused a moment to caution them to quietness, and then stepped down the hall to the green room, for she would be the first person Vadun would examine. Into the candlelit chamber she stepped and softly closed the door behind.
The odor of chamomile subtly filled the room.
The voyant de reves welcomed her with a smile, and he gestured to the couch. When she was fully reclined, he took his seat, the chair with piled cushions to raise him up on a level with the head of the divan.
“Now, my lady,” he murmured, “I ask you to clear your mind of as many thoughts as you can and to concentrate only on Prince Borel.”
“That will be rather easy,” whispered Michelle. She took a deep breath and thought of her truelove, with his silver-sheened hair, his ice-blue eyes, his handsome face, his ready wit and infectious smile, his caressing hands, his lean body, his-
Michelle felt a gentle touch upon her brow, yet she managed to maintain her thoughts of Borel and his ways.
“Oh, my, what strength of feelings,” Vadun softly said.
“And what troubled dreams of recent, yet pleasant ones as well: of Wolves and speaking to them, of ordinary things, but also of unknown and unseen dangers, of the prince and loving and of making love-”
Suddenly, Vadun broke contact.
Embarrassed over this last, Michelle said, “I did not mean to-”
“Oh, Princess, all beings have somewhat. . lustful dreams.”
“But then why did you break contact. Did you see Borel?
Did you find him?”
“Non, Princess, you have not dreamt a dream that can aid us in the search for the prince. Yet, do I understand it correctly?
You can speak with his Wolves?”
“Oui, though I am still learning.”
“Ah, good. Wolves are closer to nature, and extremely loyal to the pack, and, to their way of thinking, Prince Borel is one of them. Too, they dream. I would like to see if any have dreamt of your prince, their master.”
“You can do that? Be a voyant to their dreams?”
“Oui.”
“What of the members of my staff?”
“My lady, if the Wolves yield nought, then we shall return to the staff.”
“Where would you have me bring the pack?” Vadun shook his head. “Non, my lady, I will go to them, for they need to be in a place they find comfortable in order for me to see into their dreams.”
“Then follow me, Vadun.”
. .
In the Summerwood, this time Blaise, instead of Lanval, went to see the Lady of the Mere, but she did not appear at his beck.
And, upon his return, he found that no falcons had come bearing messages of what other seers might have learned.
. .
In the Autumnwood, Luc, fresh from the training grounds, had just sat down to his lunch as rawboned Remy, armsmaster at Autumnwood Manor, escorted a man into the chamber.
“My lord,” said Remy as they came forward, “I present Seer Malgan.”
Luc saw before him a reed-thin, sallow-faced homme with lank, straw-colored hair, his hands tucked across and within the sleeves of his red satin buttoned gown, a man who twitched away from unseen companions and yet whispered to them as he approached. As he came to stand nigh Luc, he bowed, and then glared left and right as if bidding others to show the prince courtesy as well.
When the seer straightened up, Luc asked, “Can you aid us to find Liaze and the others?”
“My lord,” replied Malgan, his voice high-pitched. He paused a moment and cocked his head as if listening to an unheard voice. “I will need something. . intimate of Princess Liaze’s-an oft-worn adornment, a lock of her hair, something in close contact with her personage.” Of a sudden he looked to his right. “What? What? Of course, of course.” He turned back to Luc and added, “A precious gem of sorts: amulet, ring, or the like. In fact, a gemstone would be best if you’ve not a lock of her hair.”
As Malgan muttered to someone aside, Luc cocked an eye at Remy and slowly shook his head in disbelief that this scarecrow of a madman could help them. “A gemstone, you say.” His words were not a question.
Malgan looked back at Luc. “Indeed, and the more precious the better.”
Luc stood and pulled a bell cord. Then he turned to Remy and Malgan and said, “Won’t you join me at lunch?” Malgan dithered over his choices, standing at the sideboard and taking up first one chunk of bread and then returning it for another, repeating this several times, not only over the choice of bread, but also of plates and cups and pats of butter and amount of tea and cuts of meat and selection of vegetables and pieces of fruit, all the while whispering to invisible beings.
As the Seer took a seat, then changed it for another, a page appeared.
Luc looked up at the lad. “Breton, fetch Zoe and tell her that we need an item from among Liaze’s jewelry,
