Borel smiled and said, “You should try it, love; to find the center is the goal, yet it is the most fun when one gets lost,” and on down the slope they rode.
Several outbuildings ranged along part of one wall at the back of the manse: a stable, a carriage house, a smithery, barns for the storage of grain and hay, and various utility sheds, some large, others small.
It was a great deal like her pere’s estate, though on a much grander scale.
And they rode through one of the gates and along a white stone lane curving between two lines of old oaks standing sentry, their limbs arching overhead and forming a canopy. Across a stone bridge they went, a stream meandering under, with graceful black swans aswimming. They emerged from the oaken canopy, and straight ahead across a broad mead stood the great chateau. And waiting in the forecourt were servants to take charge of the horses.
They dismounted at a large and deep portico, and Borel offered his arm to Chelle, and into the manse they strode.
52
At the doorway stood a grey-haired, blue-eyed, lean man dressed in black.
“Lanval,” said Borel.
“My lord,” said Lanval, and he looked at Chelle and smiled.
“Lady Michelle, I present Lanval, steward of Summerwood Manor.” As Lanval bowed, Borel added, “Lady Michelle is Duke Roulan’s daughter, and soon to be mistress of the Winterwood, for we are betrothed.”
Lanval nodded, yet this was not news to him, for messages between the Winterwood and the other Forests of the Seasons had flown back and forth by falcon.
“My lord, my lady,” said Lanval. And he gestured and said, “Shall we?” And down the short corridor they stepped to come unto the welcoming hall, where on an inlaid depiction of a green oak in the center of the floor stood a man and three women; and Lanval called out, “My Lord Alain, and my Ladies Celeste, Liaze, and Camille, I present Lord Borel, Prince of the Winterwood, and the Lady Michelle, daughter of Duke Roulan and betrothed of Prince Borel.”
Borel and Alain bowed, and Celeste, Liaze, Camille, and Michelle curtseyed, and then, unable to contain themselves any longer, Alain and Camille and Celeste and Liaze rushed forward, and hugged and kissed Borel and embraced Chelle, and they all talked at once and laughed and drew the Prince of the Winterwood and his truelove down the hall to a sitting room, where tea and scones and jellies awaited. And as all took seat and Camille served, Alain said, “Well, big brother, you and Michelle have a tale to tell, one we are very interested in hearing. But before you begin, I have the strangest dream to relate to you, a dream shared by everyone in this household: it seems you and a masked”-of a sudden Alain looked at Michelle and said-“Oh, my, it was you! You were the masked lady, Michelle. And you and Borel were here at a gala in Summerwood Manor, and you taught us a strange dance you called the bee dance and-”
Chelle and Borel looked at one another and broke into laughter, and Borel said, “It seems everyone we shared our shared dream with, shared the same dream with us.”
Liaze frowned and said, “Frere, you speak in riddles.”
Borel pushed out a hand and said, “As Chelle told Arnot, it is an effect of the spell she was under.”
At a questioning look from Celeste, Borel shrugged and added, “It will become clear when we tell our tale, but for now just call it magie.” He turned to Chelle and said, “Cherie, why don’t you begin?”
Chelle looked at the four eager faces before her, and took a sip of tea and then said, “It was the day of my majority, and my sire the duke had invited many folk to a gala in my honor. Fairies came on high-prancing horses bedecked with silver bells, and from the nearby town of Riverbend came merchants in broughams and…”
The next day, as all were sitting in Camille’s favorite gazebo, Scruff the sparrow suddenly began chirping, his attention focused on the grounds beyond. And across the hedge maze two iridescent-winged Sprites and a dark bumblebee came winging. And they flew to the railing and alighted-Flic and Fleurette and Buzzer-and all were as naked as the day they were born, but for Flic’s epee and belt, and the moondrop pendant Fleurette now wore, the pendant given Flic by King Arle. And Fleurette was definitely female, with her wee breasts and cleft groin; she had brown hair as did Flic, though her tiny locks held pale highlights within and fell down to the middle of her back. After introductions were made all ’round, Flic said, “We have talked it over, Fleurette and I, and if rings are involved in this silly human ritual you are about to undertake, Lord Alain, Lady Camille, well, hurm, we would be honored to bear them.”
The very next day, a long horn call in the distance announced the arrival of another rade, and, in cavalcade, up the length of the vale came slim, dark-haired King Valeray, his eyes piercing and grey, much as were Alain’s. And at his side rode Queen Saissa-slender, dark-haired, with arresting eyes of black. How these two could produce Borel with his ice-blue eyes and silvery hair, and Liaze with her eyes of amber and auburn hair, and Celeste with her green eyes and pale blond hair, none could say, though perhaps Fairies were involved, or so went the rumor.
In Valeray and Saissa’s entourage rode Hierophant Marceau-bald-headed and short and a barrel of a man and seemingly all laughter and cheer… when he wasn’t pontificating.
And when the king and queen came into the welcoming hall, awaiting them were two sons, two daughters, two daughters-to-be, as well as two Sprites and a sparrow and a humming bee.
Once again Borel and Chelle told their stories, and when they were done, Valeray said, “Rhensibe, Hradian, Iniqui, and Nefasi: four sisters, all acolytes of Orbane. And Rhensibe came after my old friend Roulan through his daughter. How cruel.”
“She also tried to prevent Borel’s happiness,” said Alain.
“What a terrible thing to do,” said Camille. “Four sisters, acolytes all, and out to gain revenge.”
Hierophant Marceau made a warding sign and said, “Mithras, protect us.”
Valeray looked at the rotund priest and then turned back to the others. “I knew of Nefasi. And after Saissa’s and my experience, and Camille and Alain’s as well, we were certain that Hradian was one of Orbane’s acolytes, too. But that there were two more…”
“Well, at least Rhensibe is dead, Father,” said Liaze, “thanks to Michelle and Borel.”
“Thank Mithras,” said Marceau, making another warding sign.
“Thank the Wolves instead,” said Chelle, “for they were the ones who did her in.”
They sat in silence for long moments, and finally Celeste glanced at Hierophant Marceau and turned to the others and said, “Since it seems we are here to witness Alain and Camille’s vows, let us all take another pledge upon ourselves: that we will do whatever it takes to rescue Lord Roulan and the others, and vow as well that we will do all in our power to stop Orbane’s acolytes from setting that vile wizard free.”
“Well, I do so pledge,” said Chelle, “and-”
Of a sudden there came the sound of shuttles and looms, and before the gathering stood three women: Maiden, Mother, and Crone; the Ladies Skuld, Verdandi, and Urd; the Fates Wyrd, Lot, and Doom.
Borel and Alain and Valeray stood and bowed, as did Flic. And Chelle and Camille and Liaze and Celeste and Saissa curtseyed, as did Fleurette. Buzzer was asleep, and so too was Scruff, and neither bee nor sparrow stirred. Hierophant Marceau did nought, for he had fainted dead away.
“Be careful what you pledge,” said the Maiden, Skuld.