“Disguised as a hag, my father tricked the witch Nefasi into allowing him into one of Orbane’s castles, where he stole two clay amulets imbued with the wizard’s own powerful magic, and when he and Lord Roulan gave these to the Firsts, they were used to cast Orbane into his imprisonment.”
“Nefasi is one of those you named, right? One of the acolytes?”
Liaze nodded. “Hradian, Rhensibe, Iniqui, and Nefasi: they are the four-or were the four-acolytes, but now are just three, for Rhensibe is dead.”
“Slain by Prince Borel’s Wolves,” declared Remy. “Tore her apart, they did, and a more deserving death no one ever had.”
“Prince Borel?” asked Luc.
“My brother, eldest of Valeray and Saissa’s get,” said Liaze.
“Whether or no I have siblings, I cannot say,” said Luc, a bit chapfallen.
“There are four of us,” said Liaze. “Borel, myself, Alain, and Celeste, to name us in birth order. We rule over four principalities: respectively, the Winterwood, Autumnwood, Summerwood, and Springwood.”
“This, then, is your demesne,” said Luc.
“Oui.”
Zacharie frowned into his wine, and then looked up. “My lady, I have a thought.”
Liaze gazed at him, a query in her eyes.
“Just this: there are four witches and four of you. Hradian was indirectly responsible for the curses laid upon Alain, and Rhensibe was behind Borel’s plight. That leaves Nefasi and Iniqui, as well as you and Celeste. If the acolytes are out for revenge on King Valeray, mayhap they think to accomplish such through his four children. Hence, perhaps this Goblin and Troll attack was meant to be a raid on Autumnwood Manor after all, and Sieur Luc just happened to get in the way.”
7
They sat in silence for a moment, pondering Zacharie’s words. Finally, Liaze said, “Perhaps you are right, but then again, that does not explain why they came back to the willows when they heard the Redcap call out.”
“Mayhap they did not want a deadly foe at their back,” said Remy, “and by the count of their slain, Luc is a deadly foe indeed.”
“Nightshade dealt death blows to some of them,” said Luc, “for he is trained to lash out at the enemy when I command him to attackNight, attaques! ”
“ ‘Night’? I thought his name was Deadly Nightshade,” said Liaze.
Luc smiled. “It is, Princess, though most of the time I simply call him Nightshade, but the note said I was to use Night for his combat commands; it is quicker than calling out the full of his name. Regardless, that’s how I breached their last encirclement after my sword broke. They gave way before his flailing hooves, but only after three were slain.”
“Ah, then, he truly is Deadly Nightshade,” said Liaze.
Luc smiled and nodded and said, “Yes, in combat.”
“We saw that on your backtrail,” said Luc. “ ’Tis a fine steed you have.”
“Did you find my spear, my helm?”
“Non. You had a spear?”
“It’s lodged in a Troll somewhere. From horseback I lanced him through and through, and couldn’t free the shaft before the others came at me again.”
“Formidable!” said Liaze.
Luc grinned at her, his teeth even and white, and she again felt a thrill rush through her, caught by his eyes as she was.
“We must not have backtracked far enough,” said Remy.
“W-what?” asked Liaze, breaking her gaze from Luc’s.
“I said, Princess, we must not have backtracked far enough,” repeated Remy.
“Oh. Right. Send a warband first thing on the morrow. Have them look for the helm as well.” She turned to Luc. “Where did you lose it, sieur?”
“It must have been when I was struck across the brow by what I believe was a flung cudgel. It was just after I sounded the warning. I saw the lights of your manse, and I knew I must needs alert whoever was within. And then the cudgel struck me.
“The next I knew, I was on the ground somewhere by running water. That’s where I saw the Nymph.”
“Nymph?” said Zacharie.
Luc grinned again and caught at Liaze’s eyes with his own. “The beautiful princess here, though in a different state of dress.”
Liaze cast her gaze down and away, and she could feel redness creeping up her neck and into her face, and she wondered if she were blushing all over, even unto the ends of her feet.
“I thought her a Water Nymph, an angel, a dream come true.”
Liaze’s racing heart hammered in her chest, as of a caged bird seeking escape, and she thought it might burst free in joyous flight. Perhaps Zoe is right: perhaps this is the man I have been waiting for, and he has come at last. Something… something-she knew not what-welled up from deep inside and shook her soul, and she felt her eyes glisten, as if she were preparing to shed tears.
“My life was saved several times that night,” said Luc. He raised a hand and ticked off a count on his fingers, turning them down one by one: “Once by my spear; many times by my sword; once by Nightshade; once by my helm, for surely the cudgel would have done me in had I been bareheaded.” He looked at the princess and smiled and turned down the last of his fingers and said, “And once by an angel true.”
After a moment of silence, “Harrumph!” Zacharie cleared his throat and said, “Well, my boy, I think it’s time I escorted you to another hot bath and then back to your bed. I promised Margaux we wouldn’t keep you overlong, for, as she said, you need your rest, and you must recover from the battering you took.” He looked at Liaze and said, “By your leave, Princess?”
Liaze glanced at Remy and when he shrugged she nodded to Zacharie and looked at Luc and smiled, but said nought, for she was not certain she could trust her voice.
Groaning softly, Luc stood, and he stepped to the princess and bowed. She extended her hand and he kissed her fingers. Zacharie and Remy were on their feet, and they bowed as well. Remy said, “Shall I escort you somewhere, Princess?”
She shook her head and managed to say, “Non, Remy. Close the door after you leave, for I would be alone to think.”
“As you wish,” said Remy.
The three walked away, Luc erect and pacing slowly, a slight limp in his step, Zacharie at his side. Remy strode ahead to the portal and held it open as they passed through. And then they were gone.
Sipping white wine, Liaze sat in the blue room for a considerable time, fanciful dreams spinning in the air.
8
Finally, Liaze stood and stepped into the corridor, where she found late-afternoon sunlight shining in through the hallway window. Oh, my, but the day has fled as I gathered wool, dreaming of what might be. But I still know little of this chevalier, this Luc. Charming, yes, and witty, and I thrill at even his glance, yet though I think not, still he could be nought but a fortune hunter after my demesne. Are you afraid, Liaze, because it happened once before with someone you briefly thought to be noble? Afraid? Nay. Cautious? Yes, for I cannot let my longing for true love blind me to what is real. Hence, I will have to genuinely come to know Luc ere I can see him for what he is: a flatterer, a cad, a rake, or someone just as he seems. Still, he called me his angel when he knew me not and was addled, and mayhap in that state he was speaking his heart, rather than trying to sway me.
Liaze suddenly realized that she had been standing before the window and seeing nought outside. Movement caught her eye, and she watched as a pony-drawn flatbed cart crossed her line of vision, a man leading the little steed. On the cart were three or four corpses of Goblins. What-? Ah, oui. Remy and the warband are preparing to burn them.
Liaze turned and walked toward the welcoming hall, and there she found her head gardener waiting on one of the marble benches along the window wall. He leapt to his feet and doffed his cap from his fair locks and bowed.
“What is it, Georges?”