Scruff his name-a thing Simone found most curious.
To the left of each chair stood a small round table of some sort of dark wood, on which one of the maids placed saucers and cups, and a second one poured tea for each lady, the third adding milk and honey if so desired. A sideboard of the same dark wood-ebony? — sat against one wall, and there the maids placed the tea service and then withdrew.
When the staff softly closed the door behind, Saissa took a deep breath and peered down into her cup, as if seeking tranquility therein. Then she raised her gaze to the gathering. “For nearly four years I have at times felt as if someone or something vile has been in my chamber. Yet when I look about for the source, nought is there. The feeling comes and goes, and oft is very brief, though at times it has lingered awhile. I understand that Liaze, Celeste, Camille, and Michelle have sensed the very same thing, have had the very same experiences. Not so?”
“Oui, Maman,” said Liaze, the others nodding in agreement.
But Michelle added, “I do not discern the feeling of malice unless Borel is with me. And yet it does not emanate from him but from somewhere else. I think it is directed at him, though he does not detect ought.”
“None of the men seem to be aware,” said Saissa, “at least Valeray does not.”
. .
In the armory, with its racks of arms and armor, of hauberks and helms and shields, of bows and arrows and crossbows and quarrels and darts and spears, of halberds and hammers and maces and axes and morning stars, of daggers and poniards and dirks and swords and other such weaponry, some bronze and glittery, others dark and dull, Emile watched as his eldest son hefted one of the tournament lances, long and slender, its point bluntly padded. “Ha! With this one I will unhorse you other three,” said Laurent.
“Pah!” snorted Blaise, replacing a battle-axe in a stand of the weapons. “You and what other hundred knights?” Emile laughed, as did the others, all but King Valeray, who merely smiled.
“You appear troubled,” said Emile. “Is something weighing on your mind?”
“It’s just these sensings the women have,” replied Valeray.
“Sensings?”
“As if something or someone evil is spying in on us-on Borel and Michelle, on Liaze and Luc, on Alain and Camille, on Celeste and Roel, and on Saissa and me.”
“Are you certain that it is not some sort of womanly vapours? My own Simone is at times given to such, and-”
“Non, Emile, these are no vapours, no
My daughters and daughters-in-law and my wife, they truly sense this malevolent thing, this spying, yet, for me, I detect nought whatsoever.”
“Neither do we, Papa,” replied Alain, with Borel and Luc and Roel signifying their agreement.
Borel said, “Though I do not perceive ought amiss, sometimes Slate seems to sense evil is nigh.”
“Slate?” asked Emile.
“One of my Wolves,” said Borel. Then he smiled and added,
“I suggested to Chelle that women are perhaps closer to Wolves than are men.”
Valeray barked a laugh, yet quickly grew serious again. “Ah, me, but this is no humorous matter. Saissa says that it’s as if some evil, unseen creature has invaded our chambers, and we must do something about it.”
. .
“Do you sense anything, Avelaine?” asked Simone.
“Non, Maman.”
Simone turned her gaze toward the others. “Yet the five of you do?”
“Oui, Simone,” said Saissa. “I have told Valeray that it’s as if a vile but invisible being is at hand.”
“Vile but invisible being?” gasped Simone. “Oh, Mithras, then something must be done. Why, it could be anywhere.” Avelaine gasped and put a hand to her abdomen, yet said nought.
Camille took note of the gesture but said, “Alain and I believe it is Hradian. Somehow she is spying upon us, seeking a way to gain revenge.”
. .
“Revenge for what?” asked Emile, taking up a dagger and gauging its balance and heft.
“The death of her three sisters,” replied Alain, “acolytes all.” Emile frowned. “Acolytes? Of what religion?”
“No religion, Papa,” said Roel, hanging a shield back on its hook. “Instead those three dead were acolytes of Orbane, a foul wizard. Only his fourth one remains.”
Emile raised a puzzled eyebrow and turned up a hand. “Perhaps someone had better explain, for Simone and Laurent and Blaise and I are newly come unto Faery.”
Laurent and Blaise both nodded in agreement.
“Very well,” said Valeray, glancing at Borel and Alain.
“Mayhap it will do us all good to review just why it might be Hradian-the last acolyte-and what she might have in mind.”
. .
Saissa stood and stepped to the sideboard. “Anyone else for more tea?”
Shortly, with some cups replenished and others not, Saissa resumed her seat. She took a sip of tea and set her cup aside, then looked about the women and said, “It all began many summers ago, just how many, I remember not, but it was a goodly while back in a time ere I had met Valeray, ere the time our children were born.” Momentarily, Saissa seemed lost in reflection, a hint of a smile on her face. She nodded and then came to herself and continued: “Regardless, the wizard Orbane grew in power, and he had about him four acolytes, four sisters, witches all. And though at the time we knew not their names, they were Rhensibe, Hradian, Nefasi, and Iniqui.
“Orbane sought power o’er the whole of Faery, and he assembled a great army to march across the realms and take command of all. But he was opposed by the Firsts, and-”
. .
Emile laid down the keen, bronze sword. “The Firsts?”
“The first of each kind in Faery, Papa,” said Roel.
“This speaks to the beginnings of Faery, then?”
“Oui,” replied Alain. “You see, just as once upon a time there was no mortal world, well then, too, once upon a time there was no Faery. But the gods saw fit to create it and populate it with beings. The first being of each kind is named a First.
My wife, Camille, has a conjecture about such.”
. .
In the green room Saissa looked at Camille and said, “Why don’t you explain it, my dear?”
“Oh, please do,” said Simone, “for I deem it is something that Reydeau didn’t teach us.”
“Reydeau?” asked Liaze.
Celeste said, “I sent Reydeau to tutor Simone and her family and staff of the ways of Faery so that they would know what to expect herein.”
“Ah, I see.” Liaze turned to Camille and added, “I did not mean to interrupt.”
“Please, Camille,” said Simone, “please go on. I would hear of the beginnings of Faery.”
“Very well,” said Camille, “though it is but speculation on my part.” She took a sip of tea and set her cup aside.
. .
Alain looked at Emile and said, “It was when I had gone missing, and Camille was in search of me, though the only clue she had was to look for a place east of the sun and west of the moon. None she asked knew where such might be. But then she came across an Elf named Rondalo. He told her that his mother Chemine was a First, and she might know just where such a locale lay. Yet she did not, but she said there was one other who might know-Raseri the Dragon, who she thought might have been the very first First to have come unto Faery.
Chemine suggested that Rondalo guide Camille to the Drake.
Rondalo was bitterly opposed, for he was a sworn enemy of Raseri; it seems the Dragon had slain Rondalo’s sire Audane.
Even so, given Camille’s plight, Rondalo at last agreed to guide her to Raseri’s lair.”
