Once upon a dreadful time

. .

“Those fools, those bloody fools,” seethed Orbane. “More than half my Trolls and Bogles, and nearly all my Serpentines.”

“Half the Goblins as well,” said Hradian.

“Pah!” spat Orbane. “Who cares about the Goblins? They are just fodder. ’Tis the Trolls and Bogles and Serpentines I count on to protect me on the march.”

“Yet your throng gave good account of themselves, for they dragged nearly four thousand human corpses away from the battlefield to feast upon, and surely just as many men suffered wounds. I deem this ragtag army will flee the field, my master, and you will be free of these pests who would stand in your way. Compared to you, my puissant lord, they are less than fleas, than mites.”

Orbane rounded on Hradian and glared into her eyes, and she fell to her knees and trembled before him. Then he threw her on her back and parted her legs and slid in between, and she began screaming in pleasure.

. .

The following day the raging darkness above began moving, and shortly after, Dil, one of the Sprites, came winging into the encampment. “Sieur,” he said to Emile, “the throng marches, the Sickness moves, they are faring through the hills a point to dusk of sunwise.”

“Is that the way toward the River of Time?”

“Oui, Sieur, it is.”

Emile jumped to his feet and summoned his bugler. “Sound the alert, for we march.”

. .

As planned, they left their wounded behind, along with a chirurgeon and three healers, with instructions for the lesser of the hurt to aid with the greater. Too, one of the Sprites remained with them to guide the mule-drawn wains through the shadowlight bounds on their way to a goodly sized distant town.

All in the force that went sunwise were mounted on horses, with mules and asses in the train. And in haste they travelled the first day, and soon they were beyond the marching throng and the Sickness, and then the allies turned on the course pointed out by the Sprites.

That evening they came to the twilight border, and when they passed through, they emerged under clear skies, where the blackness and lightning and thunder had been left behind.

And here did they gain another six hundred men who were on their way to the mire, for that was where the rendezvous had been called. Yet they turned their march toward the goal set by Emile: the headwaters of the River of Time.

. .

As Orbane moved across the land, once the Sickness had cleared the morass, where it flowed it destroyed all plants as well as the animals-those that did not flee-leaving nought but wither and sere behind.

The following day, Orbane and his throng reached the sunwise border, and here it was that once again the wizard commanded the witch to lend him her power. And he cast a great spell, and then ordered the march to continue, and when they went through the twilight bound, so, too, did the thundering skies above as well as the pollution below.

Hradian had known that shadowlight borders are tricky, and usually a storm or blowing air and rivers and other such oft did not flow across as would a traveler go but appear somewhere else altogether. And although birds in the air passed through twilight marges much the same as did people, the air itself did not; instead it blew elsewhere. In contrast, fish and other aquatic creatures seemed to remain within the stream and flow through wherever the water went-though that was not the case with boats. And so, when Orbane had cast his spell and had caused the Sickness and the black skies to pass through as he had wished-first starting the darkness across, then his throng, followed by himself and Hradian and the corruption, with the remainder of the darkness following after-it had taken great magic indeed, and Hradian could but marvel at his power.

Just on the opposite side, a battalion of Goblins joined them-Dunters all, it seems.

. .

And so the army marched, as did the throng, and each took on new recruits as across the realms they went. But as to Orbane, nought but barren soil was left along the wide, wide track of the dreadful pall.

. .

Under the hollow hills, at last Auberon pronounced all was ready, and Regar was given a fine horse and glittering armor, as well as a new bronze sword and a long-knife and a long lance pointed on both ends. But he kept his own bow and quiver, though the Fey Lord filled it with arrows he said would not miss.

And the Fairy army-three thousand strong-rode up and out from the mounds, with arms and armor flashing in the sunlight of early morn and small silver bells ringing ajingle upon the caparisons of magnificent, prancing steeds.

And then did Flic and Fleurette and Buzzer join Regar, and Flic said, “Oh, my prince, we thought you trapped, thought that you had eaten food or taken drink and would be caught for a millennia or more.”

Regar looked at them in puzzlement. “Thought me trapped?

I was under the hill for but a mere day.”

“No, my lord,” said Fleurette, “you have been under the mound for nearly two moons altogether.”

“Two moons?”

“Just two days shy.”

Alarmed, Regar turned to Auberon. “We must ride, my lord, else we will be too late.”

Auberon lifted his silver horn and sounded a long cry. And the Fairy horses leapt forward, Auberon leading the way.

Gap

Some seven thousand strong the allies now marched, for they had collected additional warbands along the way. And as they tramped toward a distant goal, “Look ahead, my lord,” said Leon to Luc.

“I see it,” said the prince, “and surely so has Sieur Emile.” To the fore stood a craggy mountain range, and the Sprites led the army toward a gap in the chain.

“It seems quite narrow,” said Leon.

“We are yet at a distance, Leon, and no doubt it will be wider when we get there.”

Leon barked a laugh, even as he nodded in agreement.

They rode onward, and shortly there came a page to summon them to Emile’s side. Forward they spurred, and soon they reached the vanguard, and within a quarter candlemark all the commanders had arrived.

“Should it be a suitable lieu, I deem we can make a stand in yon slot,” said Emile, raising his voice so that all could hear.

“If we do so, my lord,” said Captain Valodet, a newcomer and commander of four hundred horse, “we might not be able to flank them.”

“Oui, Captain, we might not. Yet on the other hand, they might not be able to flank us either.”

“My lord,” said Petain, “the Sprites report that Orbane’s forces gain enormous strength as they march. Their numbers increase seemingly without bound.”

Roel said, “Then mayhap that’s all the more reason for us to make a stand in a narrow lieu where they cannot bring those numbers to bear.”

Luc nodded in agreement with Roel. “ ’Tis the best way for dealing with great numbers, yet what of the Sickness? How will we contend with that?”

Emile sighed and said, “The Sprites tell us that the throng marches out before the contamination, and so I deem we can do battle until the corruption comes upon us.” He looked about and said, “It is not the way I would want it, yet it is the best we can do.”

“Mayhap the Firsts can deal with it, as well as with Orbane,” said Laurent.

Blaise shook his head. “If I understand what went before in the war with Orbane, the Firsts could not do more than delay him. And, given Lady Lot’s rede, I think that making a stand in the slot is not the last gasp, not the