Liaze hailed the drover and he glanced back at her but kept moving forward. Moments later she rode alongside the wain and the man afoot, even as more rain came on the forerunning wind. “Have you shelter for me and my steeds?”
“Aye,” replied the drover, a rather grizzled and sun-baked man, his faded blue eyes appraising her and the horses, especially eyeing Deadly Nightshade. His gaze dwelt a moment on the silver horn slung across Liaze’s shoulder, but then he looked forward and lowed at the oxen, flicking a long flexible switch against their hindquarters, seemingly with no effect whatsoever.
“I am Liaze of the Autumnwood,” said the princess.
“Matthieu,” said the man. He gestured ahead, where the four other workers stood waiting just inside the doors of the now-open barn. “Vincent, Thierry, Noel, and Susanne,” said Matthieu, his words laconic.
Into the byre rolled the wain, Liaze following. And as she passed the youths and the maid, they all looked up at her, their eyes filled with curiosity, especially those of the girl Susanne, a fille of no more than thirteen summers.
Outside, rain began pouring.
“We really needed the sun one more day,” said Vincent, the young man the eldest of Matthieu and Madeleine’s brood, raising his voice slightly to be heard above the water hammering against the shake-shingle roof of the modest house.
They all sat about a plank-board table and dined on a supper of fresh-baked bread and gravy and beans and rashers of bacon, and Liaze was reveling in the food, for it was the first hot meal she’d had in the seven days she’d been on the trail.
Vincent gestured toward the outside. “But the storm was coming and we could not leave this cutting lying afield to be ruined. Still, it is a bit green, yet we spread it out in the loft atop the other hay. Soon it will be dry enough.”
“Well, my horses certainly appreciate the taste of it just the way it is,” said Liaze, smiling.
“Your horses, you say?” said Matthieu.
“All but the black,” replied Liaze. “It belongs to Luc, my betrothed.”
“Your betrothed?” cried Susanne, her face falling.
But Matthieu and Madeleine looked at one another and nodded, as did the boys. And Matthieu said, “As we thought.-Oh, I mean about the black being Luc’s horse.”
“You knew it was his?” asked Liaze.
“He stayed with us two days,” said Thierry, “then rode onward.”
“Bon!” exclaimed Liaze.
“Bon?” asked Noel.
“It means I am yet on the right track,” said Liaze.
“Right track?”
“Oui. You see, a witch has flown away with Luc, and I am out to find him.”
The entire family gasped, and Susanne cried, “Witch? Oh, my poor Luc!”
“You must tell us of this witch,” said Madeleine.
Liaze nodded and said, “I know not overmuch of her, but I can tell you of Luc’s taking.” Liaze paused and took a drink of water, and then spoke on: “It was some weeks past at Autumnwood Manor when I heard a silver horn sounding an alert, and-”
“Autumnwood Manor!” exclaimed Vincent. “Oh, we’ve heard of that. Tell me, is the princess as beautiful as they say?”
The corner of Liaze’s mouth turned up slightly and she said, “I hardly think so.”
“But they say she has auburn hair like yours and amber eyes and-Oh! Oh! ” Vincent’s eyes widened in revelation as did those of the other members of the family, and Madeleine said, “Oh, my lady, forgive me my humble fare, for we knew not who you truly were.” She turned to Matthieu and said, “Quick, the wine. We must have wine.”
As Matthieu leapt to his feet and headed for the back door, Liaze called, “Matthieu, you do not need to-” but the man was already out and into the storm. The princess turned to the mother. “Lady Madeleine, as to your so-called humble fare, it is as ambrosia to me, for I have been long on the ride.”
Susanne sighed, her face glum, and she muttered, “A princess. A princess. I might have known.”
Madeleine leaned over to Liaze and whispered, “She was enamored of Luc.”
“Still is,” said Thierry, overhearing.
Liaze reached out and laid a hand atop one of Suzanne’s. “I don’t fault you, my lady, for I, too, was instantly enamored of him, even as he fell off his horse.”
Suzanne’s eyes widened. “He fell?”
“Indeed.”
“Was he hurt?”
“Let us wait for your pere, and then I will tell all.”
Even as she said this last, Matthieu came hurrying back in, dripping wet, with a jug of wine in hand. “ ’Tis good I went to fetch this; the brook is running high; a bit more of this downpour, and it would have been swept away.”
While Madeleine served wine ’round to all, Matthieu dried off and, still a bit damp, resumed his place at the table.
Suzanne said, “He fell from his horse, Papa.”
As Matthieu frowned, Liaze said, “ ’Twas Luc who fell, wounded as he was.” All eyes widened, and Suzanne cried out, but Liaze went on: “You see, I was at a pool among some willows when I heard Luc’s horn crying out the alarm, and…”
“But that will mean you need go through the Forest of Oaks,” protested Madeleine.
“Full of Fauns, it is,” said Matthieu, “and they bring the Satyrs.”
“I have no choice,” said Liaze.
“We can go with you and protect you,” said Vincent, glancing at his father.
Liaze shook her head. “Nay. Recalclass="underline" Lady Skuld said I must go alone, but for the howling one.”
“I think it’s a Wolf,” said Thierry.
“Or someone quite mad,” said Noel.
“Regardless of who or what it is,” said Madeleine,
“the pipes of the Fauns stand between you and your goal.”
“Perhaps,” said Liaze. “Perhaps not. For Nightshade might turn aside ere reaching the oaks. Besides, I am told I simply must avoid the sound of their music, and that I will do.”
“Stuff your ears, I’ve heard say,” said Matthieu,
“though I know of no one who’s done so.”
“Then mayhap I will be the first one of your acquaintance to try it,” said Liaze.
Matthieu nodded, an uncertain smile upon his face. “True.”
With dinner done and the dishes washed, Liaze said to Madeleine, “Could I beg of you some hot water? I need a bath desperately, and all I’ve had were the cold streams along the way to-”
“Oh, yes, yes, my lady,” said Madeleine.
Sometime later, as Susanne poured the contents of a steaming kettle into a round copper tub, she looked at Liaze and sighed and said, “If I had to lose Luc to anyone, I am glad it was you, Princess.”
“Why, thank you, Susanne. I am sorry and yet not sorry I spoiled your dream.”
“Perhaps I was foolish to ever dream it in the first place,” said Suzanne.
“Oh, child, no dream is foolish, though some are not meant to be. A few dreams come true quite by accident, while others will happen only if you make them so and perhaps get help along the way. Hence, keep on dreaming your dreams, Suzanne, and work toward those ends, and one day, mayhap, some of those dreams will be realized.”
The next morning dawned to a freshly washed world, and, after a hearty breakfast, Liaze mounted up on a fretting, sidle-stepping Nightshade and said, “Merci, Matthieu, Madeleine. I am grateful for your hospitality. Even so, I wish you had slept in your own bed and left me to the barn.”
Madeleine shook her head and said, “ ’Twas only fitting.”
As Liaze sighed, Vincent looked to the hills in the direction she was to ride, and then he stepped back and said, “The black seems anxious to go, my lady.” He bowed, as did his brothers, and Noel added, “ Bonne chance, Princess.”
“Merci, Noel. I hope your good wishes for me come true. Oh, and Matthieu, I thank you for replenishing my supplies, for I know not what will be needed on the road ahead.”
Matthieu bowed, and Madeleine curtseyed, and Susanne curtseyed and then, her face twisted in anguish, said, “Oh, please save Luc, Princess. If you don’t then I think I’ll just die.”
“So will I, Suzanne,” said Liaze. “Indeed, so will I.” Sighing, with a farewell wave she heeled Nightshade and gave the black his head, and off toward the sunwise bound he cantered, Pied Agile and the four geldings in tow.