“Verill, to me,” he cried.
When Verill arrived, Anton pointed and said,
“Spoor.”
“Goblins, Bogles, Trolls,” said Verill after but a glance, “and they are running. Mayhap to escape; mayhap in pursuit.”
“See you any sign of the princess among them? Or Sieur Roel?”
Now Verill studied the tracks closely, and he followed them upslope, moving slowly. “Ah! Here’s a man’s step.
Possibly Sieur Roel’s.” After a moment he said, “And here the princess’s. Captain Anton, they are running, and I ween the Goblins and Bogles and Trolls are in pursuit.”
“Merde!”
On went Verill, Anton following, and into the twilight bound they went. “Lantern. I’ll need a lantern,” said Verill.
Anton stepped out from the boundary and called to Merlion, and quickly he brought a lantern to the two.
But, as with all light, its glow dimmed in the mystical dusk of the marge. Even so, Verill managed to follow the wide swath of the pursuers within the shadowy bound. Long did he track, covering a considerable distance. He found where Roel and Celeste had jinked to throw off the pursuit, and yet those chasing had eventually followed. And then through the ebon central part they all had sped-princess, chevalier, and pursuers.
“Get me a rope,” said Verill, and I’ll see what is on the far side.”
“I’ll call a Sprite,” said Anton.
“That might take a while,” said Verill, “and I can cross now.”
Merlion ran back to the battleground, now nearly a half mile away, eventually to return with a line and two more men. They tied the rope about Verill and all took hold, and he stepped through the ebon wall.
The line snapped taut.
“Haul back!” cried Anton, and, straining, they pulled Verill back through.
“ ’Tis a drop, but I think I hear waves,” reported Verill. “We will need a Sprite.”
Out from the bound strode Anton, and he took his clarion in hand and sounded a call. Then again he called, and eyed the forest surround, and waited.
After a long while, a tiny diaphanous-winged being came flying among the trees. No more than two inches tall and naked she was, and she made straight for Anton, who held his horn on high. She landed on the bell of Anton’s clarion; he lowered the trump and she looked up at him.
“Mademoiselle Sprite,” said Anton, “we need your aid.”
“I am Tika,” she replied, brushing back a wisp of her brown hair. “And you are. .?”
“Anton, armsmaster and warband leader of Springwood Manor.”
In that moment, more Sprites came winging, all in answer to the horn call. And some were greatly disturbed, for they had flown above the slaughter ground.
Anton waited until all the newcomer Sprites had settled on nearby branches. Then he said, “Tika, Princess Celeste is missing”-the wee Sprites gasped in alarm-
“and we need you, all of you, to see what lies beyond the marge, so that we might go to her aid.”
“Where did she cross?” asked Tika, the Sprite familiar with aiding humans at the boundaries.
“We think ’tis there where stands my man Verill,” said Anton, pointing.
Verill raised his hand.
Tika turned to the waiting Sprites and spoke rap shy;idly, and she and they darted in a widespread line toward the twilight wall.
“Nought but ocean where the tracks cross?” cried Anton in dismay.
“Oui,” replied Tika, her voice choking in pent grief, the gathered Sprites nodding in agreement, even as tears glittered against their tiny cheeks.
“Empty,” said another of the Sprites, a russet-haired male.
“We found no one at all,” said a third, a dark-haired female, tears flowing. “Just waves rolling o’er the deeps.”
“There was a floating cudgel,” said Tika, her voice breaking.
“Cudgel?”
“Like those borne by Redcaps,” said Tika, gesturing in the direction of the slaughter ground.
“No one swimming? No one calling for help?” asked Verill.
“Non,” said Tika, bursting into sobs, her folk all weeping. “I’m afraid. . the princess. . and her knight have drowned.”
“Captain,” said Verill, choking on his own tears,
“mayhap they were swept through the bound elsewhere and are safe.”
“Non,” said Tika, gaining control. “From the place of the tracks, we flew through the bound repeatedly both dextral and sinister, and always we came back into the Springwood; and we searched, and they are not herein.
And back nigh that horrid battleground whence you said the Trolls and Bogles and Redcaps had first come, beyond the bound there is nought but wide, empty desert, and farther along the marge lies the realm of King Avelar, and the princess is not in either.” Tika burst into tears again, yet after a moment she managed to say, “Captain Anton, the princess and the chevalier, they most assuredly drowned.”
Anton turned away, and peered at the shadowlight, and then he sighed and said, “Tika, I need you and the Sprites to bear word to Steward Vidal at Springwood Manor.”
Her voice choking, Tika managed to ask, “And your message, Armsmaster?”
Anton sighed and said, “Tell him that during an attack by Redcaps and Bogles and Trolls at the sunwise twilight bound, Celeste and Roel crossed over and fell into an ocean and were drowned.”
Yet sobbing, Tika nodded, and then she and the Sprites darted away.
His own cheeks wet with tears, Anton gathered the men and told them what the Sprites had found. And then, with men weeping, and with the most severely wounded riding on travois, back toward Springwood Manor they all turned. And they bore with them the trappings from Celeste’s grey and from Roel’s black, as well as a slain crow pierced through by a crossbow quarrel.
11
Pursuit
In but a heartbeat and before she could scream, Celeste crashed down onto a canted surface that rang like hardwood, and- “Uff!” — she fell forward to her hands and knees. Her long-knife was lost to her grip and went skittering away in the blackness. Floundering to her feet, “Roel, Roel,” she called, but then she was grabbed from behind, and a rough hand was clapped over her mouth.
Celeste wrenched to and fro, and tried to stomp her heel onto the foot of whoever or whatever had her in its grasp, but she could not break free.
“Quiet, or I’ll snap your neck,” came a hissed command, and whoever had her twisted her head to one side.
Celeste stopped her struggle.
“My Lord Captain,” the being said, keeping his voice low, “I have one here. A female, by the feel of her.”
“There’s another over here, my lord,” someone else said, also in a hushed voice. “I think he’s dead.” Roel dead?
Celeste moaned, but then fell silent as the grip on her mouth tightened in threat.
“Oi, now, wait a moment. He’s breathing. I think he’s just unconscious.”
Thank Mithras, Roel’s alive.
Footsteps neared on wood, but stopped, and the surface Celeste stood on slowly rose and fell. She smelled a salt tang in the air, and she heard the rush of water. A ship. I’m on a ship.
Her eyes now beginning to adjust to the darkness, Celeste could make out a dim shape standing before her.
“Madam, if my lieutenant takes his hand from your mouth, will you keep your voice down?” Celeste managed a restricted nod.
“She agrees, My Lord Captain,” said the one who held her.
“Then do so, Lieutenant.”
The person took his hand from her mouth, yet held her tight, and in that very same moment and in the near distance there sounded terrified screams and roars and splashes.
“What th-?” breathed the one who held her.
“Goblins and Ogres and Trolls, Captain,” said Celeste. “They were in pursuit of us. Now release me so that I might tend my consort.”
“Consort? Who are you?”
Momentarily, Celeste hesitated, for she did not wish to be held for ransom. But then from nearby there came a groan. Roel. She took a deep breath and said,