A twist of rage flashed across Orbane’s face at being even obliquely questioned. Still, he reveled in the fact that she had rightly seen in comparison to him she was all but insignificant.
“Nevertheless, Acolyte, I would have it, for this day I will cover the sky with darkness, and, when that is in place, then on the morrow I will raise the putrescence, and then we march.”
. .
Regar looked at Auberon, the Fairy Lord yet somber. “My lord, though the queen is indisposed, and your son is free, although we cannot use Fairy magic or Elven magic ’gainst him, still we must needs raise your army, else the whole of Faery and the mortal world will likely be lost to him.” Auberon sighed and nodded, and stepped to a bell cord and tugged it. Moments later a page appeared.
“Fanir, bring me my horn, for I would summon the army.” As the page darted away, Regar looked at his grandfather in puzzlement. “My lord, a horn?”
“Oui.”
“But will it be heard?”
Auberon smiled. “Indeed, though only by the Fey.”
“But we are underground. . under the hills.”
“Even so, mon petit-fils, it will be heard.” Regar shook his head and sighed. “There is much for me to learn about my kind, quart-sang-quarter-blood-though I am.” In that moment the page returned, and in his grasp was a silver trump. He gave it over to Auberon.
“How long will it take for the army to muster?” asked Regar.
“They will be here within the day,” said Auberon. Then the Fairy King raised the clarion to his lips and sounded a call, and the cry rang throughout the hollow hills and beyond.
. .
Even as Roel and the outrider galloped back toward the long column, Peti and Trit gasped.
“What is it?” asked Michelle.
“The Fey Lord has summoned his army,” said Trit.
“Fey L-the Fairy King?”
“Oui,” replied Peti.
“And you know this how?”
“He has sounded his horn.”
“But I heard nought,” said Galion.
“ ’Tis not meant for your ears,” said Trit.
Galion grunted but made no other comment, yet Michelle said, “If the Fey Lord is mustering his legions, it means Prince Regar has succeeded in his mission.” She glanced hindward at the vanguard, where Roel and the outrider had gotten to. “You must fly back and tell Sieur Emile. It might change his battle plans to know the Fairy Army will come.”
. .
Gesturing at the sky and shouting out arcane words, Orbane stood on the flet, Hradian beside him, and directly high above a cloud began to form-a dark cloud, an ominous cloud, a great tower of blackness slowly building up and up. And soon lightning began to flash within its bowels and thunder boomed, yet no rain came flashing down. And still Orbane called to the sky, and the monstrous dark began to spread, even as it continued to grow upward.
And Hradian sagged under the drain on her vigor. “Crapaud,” she managed to croak, and the bloated creature waddled to her side. “Crapaud,” she whispered as she touched him on his forehead, “lend me your power.” And the great toad belched but once and then fell somnolent.
. .
Angling in from sunwise and following Sprites, the Chateau Bleu contingent slowly merged with that from the Forests of the Seasons and others. And Leon, sighting the crimson and gold flag of the Autumnwood, gave over command to the chateau armsmaster and then spurred his horse toward the banner.
“My Lord,” said Leon as he fell in alongside Prince Luc, “I turn over to you
“Non, Leon,” replied Luc, “ ’tis yours to retain, for I am in command of the Autumnwood battalion. It is Sieur Emile in charge of this legion, and, just as are all the others, your force will be at his disposal. He is seasoned in war, and he and his sons-Roel, Blaise, and Laurent-have been in many campaigns. And so, the Battalion of the Blue Chateau is yours to command under his leadership. Now come, let us ride forward to meet him.”
Luc heeled his horse into a canter, and with Leon coursing alongside, ahead to the van they went, where they dropped into a walk aflank of Sieur Emile.
After the introductions had been made, Emile broke into a broad smile. “You bring fifty chevaliers? Mithras, but that is splendid news. I was beginning to wonder if we could prevail with the few we have.”
“Forget not, Sire,” said Roel, “there might be more on the way. And certainly the Fairy King will bring his fey knights to our side.”
And on they rode, and they were joined by Laurent and Blaise, as well as Petain and Georges, two of the commanders they had acquired on the march. And they spoke of strategy and tactics, and of the best way to use the windfall of a half-hundred chevaliers, Leon giving and taking in the discussion among his battle peers.
. .
They crossed the twilight marge in midafternoon, to come under dark and ominous skies. And the silver needle and the Sprites who had been in this region before agreed that the great swamp lay a point to sun of duskwise, hence in that direction did they fare.
The land itself was of rolling hills, dotted here and there with small groves and thickets, while rough grass and wild weed covered the rest. In the distance starwise, low mountains loomed and streams flowed down from the heights.
Accompanied by the Wolves, Michelle yet rode on point, now escorted not only by Galion but also by two of the knights of Chateau Bleu. Sprites ranged out before them, now and then flitting back to say what lay ahead. And as they went onward, the cast above, dark as it was, grew even blacker, and lightning raged and thunder roared, and light stuttered within the ebon gloom above, and dimness lay over all.
In late afternoon they approached a long rise in the land that went up and up to a broad ridge, running down from the distant mountains to starwise to stretch horizontal for a way, only to drop off sharply into hills leftward. And waiting on the near side of the crest of the ridge, as foretold by the Sprites, were another two thousand men. A man named Bailen led them, and he rode forth to meet with Sieur Emile.
“Just beyond that rise,” said Bailen, lifting his voice to be heard above the roar of thunder, “the land gently falls for a league or so to come to a broad plain, and another league on lies the swamp. Except for my hidden warders, I have kept my men on this side of the slope so as not to alert Orbane as to our numbers. -Would you care to see, my lord?”
“Indeed,” replied Emile. “For much needs to be planned.” And so he and Bailen rode upslope and dismounted just this side of the crest. They walked to the top, and, under black, roiling skies, Emile took in the view. The ridge slowly fell away and into a shallow, ever-widening valley. Off to the right the land rose steeply; to the left it turned into rolling hills, where the ridge itself dropped sharply to join them. But in between and at the bottom of the league-long slope lay the broad plain.
And some two leagues away from where Emile took in the view stood the beginnings of the mire.
The swamp was vast and fed by streams and rivers flowing down from the mountains to starwise and the hills sunwise; the morass stretched out for as far as the eye could see.
“How is the land on the plain? Soft, treacherous, or does it provide good footing?”
“My lord, I do not know, for I got here but this morn, and I would not give our presence away to the foe.”
“What say the Sprites?”
“My lord, they are not of a size to gauge the pack of the soil, for to them even soft loam seems good footing.”
“I and my Wolves can go in the night,” said Michelle softly.
Emile turned to see the princess had come up to take a look as well.
