In that moon as well, the former slaves declared Alain and Camille to be the new prince and princess of L’Ile de Camille, for that is what they now called it.
Finally, Alain decided that they had searched all they could, and he gathered together the populace, and he asked them what they would.
“My lord,” said one of the former slaves, “I and mine would stay, for in spite of ill memories the isle itself is quite pleasant, with rain aplenty and good soil and fair weather for the most. With its bountiful sea and plentiful crops, we could find no better were we to return whence we came.”
Calls of agreement sounded throughout.
Alain looked at Lanval. “My lord,” said the steward, “I have spoken with the staff of Summerwood Manor, and we would return with you. Captain Kolor says there is room on the Nordavind for the forty-eight of us who survived, fifty counting you and Lady Camille.”
Camille glanced at Kolor, and he grinned and said, “We’ll be a bit crowded, but she’ll take that many back to the distant shores.”
Alain nodded and then said, “Is there aught any would add?”
A woman stepped forward and curtseyed. “My lord, who will govern us? Who will have the final say if you and Lady Camille are not here? You are our prince and princess, and we would have you stay.”
Now a clamor of agreement rose up among those remaining.
Kolor looked at Alain. “ ’Tis a worthy addition to your holdings, Prince Alain, for long have mariners needed a seaport in these remote waters. I ween it would be bustling with trade in a trice, were it to become known to explorers and captains far and wide.”
Alain looked at Camille, and she said, “Appoint a steward until we can send someone in our stead.”
Now another clamor arose, and finally the woman turned and raised her hands and quiet fell. Then she said to Alain, “We don’t want someone in your stead, my lord and lady, though a steward we will abide. Have you no kindred to send to watch over us as we wait your permanent return… or even an occasional visit to this far-flung outpost of yours?”
“My kindred are all watching over principalities of their own,” said Alain. Then he smiled and glanced at Camille and said, “Yet there is a youth who is kindred of Camille who would make a splendid prince regent once he is trained.”
Camille’s eyes widened in surprise, and she turned to Alain and said, “Giles?”
“The climate seems right,” said Alain, smiling, “with its warm days and cool nights. And from what you say of him, he has the temperament and humor to be kind and gentle. Too, if he is as clever as you, well then, who could ask better?”
Camille smiled and nodded, but then frowned. “But who will train him, who be steward here until Giles is ready, assuming he even takes up your offer?”
Now it was Alain who frowned. “Even after Giles is trained, he will need a right-hand man.” The prince looked over at Jules, the lad’s own right hand gone. “Or perhaps a left-hand man.” Alain stepped to the boy. “Jules, would you train as steward of this isle, to serve Prince Regent Giles?”
Jules grinned and dipped his head. “Indeed, my lord prince.”
Alain smiled and then turned and faced Lanval, and said, “There is one whom I would trust to train-”
Lanval thrust out a hand of negation. “My prince, there is a better choice.” Lanval turned to Andre the gardener and said, “Will you, old friend, come out of retirement and train both of the lads? After all, it was you who trained me and then took to your flowers. Besides, they need a good gardener here, for the fields have improved considerably since you took a hand.”
Andre shook his head, then said, “Very well, Lanval. Very well, my prince. But I would return to Summerwood Manor once the lads have reached their years and are well prepared.”
Camille stepped forward and kissed Andre on the cheek. “I will miss you, my friend,” she said. “Train them well and quickly, for I look forward to your return. There is much that needs tending in the gardens of Summerwood Manor.”
Camille then stepped to Jules and embraced the boy and whispered, “I could think of no better companion for my brother Giles.”
“Done,” said Alain, then he looked about. “Is there aught any would add?”
Big Jack cleared his throat, and when Alain nodded his way, Jack said, “Someone who knows arms and armor needs t’ stay and teach these folk how t’ defend themselves, not only from sea brigands, but also from th’ mage, should he return. Now there’s plenty of tulwars and scimitars and spears left, and so I’m thinkin’ that I’ll stay behind, at least until these folks are ready.”
Alain grinned and said, “Well and good, Jack, and so shall it be. You will make a splendid armsmaster.”
Big Jack nodded and then added, “But I do have one request, Prince Alain.” Then Jack looked at Kolor. “I would ask that the North Wind come back in a year and a day and a moon beyond and take me on as crew, for in spite of my spewing my guts now and again, with what other mates can one take on Goblins and Trolls t’ lay them by th’ heels.”
Kolor raised an axe and said, “I would welcome you and Lady Bronze, and so shall it be done.”
And thus it was decided: Jack would stay as warchief for a year and a day and a moon, and Andre would remain as steward, with Jules as his understudy, and, if agreeable to the lad, Giles would be sent and be trained as Prince Regent of L’Ile de Camille.
Another fortnight passed ere all was ready, and with tears in her eyes, Camille bade au revoir to Jules and Andre and Big Jack, and when she kissed the big man on the cheek, she whispered, “Thank you, Jack, for doing to Olot what my Alain could not, for with one blow of Lady Bronze you set him free.”
Big Jack shuffled his feet, his own eyes brimming, and he managed to choke out, “My lady, should you ever have a want, all you need do is ask.”
Then the Nordavind set sail, with sixty-seven Dwarves aboard, along with forty-nine souls of the Summerwood, counting Alain and Camille and Scruff.
They did not sail through the Sea of Mist, but went around instead.
All in all it took seventy-two days to reach a port on the far distant shores, Kolor dropping anchor at the town of Atterrage in the Bay of Abri, for it was much closer to the Summerwood than other ports in Faery.
They spent a week in Atterrage, resting and arranging for transportation. Alain also arranged with Kolor to return to this port on his way to get Big Jack, some ten moons from then, and take on Giles as a passenger and deliver him to the L’Ile de Camille, or to give passage to whomever Alain chose as regent-in-training should Giles not wish the task.
Finally came the day of departure, with the Nordavind going one way, and the household of Summerwood Manor going another. With tears in her eyes, Camille bade au revoir to Kolor and crew, and just as Big Jack had vowed, so too did Kolor pledge that should Camille ever need him and his crew again, they were at her beck. She kissed the Dwarven captain on the cheek, and then stepped back to Alain.
And Camille and Alain stood adock in the dawn and watched as the North Wind once again blew out over the waters. And when they could no longer see the ship, they sighed and turned about and left the sea behind.
Two fortnights after, as dusk drew down on the land, a train of ten red coaches came curving up the oaken lane and unto Summerwood Manor, and to Camille’s wondering eyes, the place stood warmly lit by lanterns of welcoming. As Camille and Alain alighted from the lead coach, tiny Lord Kelmot strode forth to greet them, a lynx padding at his side. Scruff, asleep in Camille’s pocket, took no note of the cat.