But then the Sickness came, the fringes of the bilious cloud to envelop Fey and man and horse.
Yet on they battled, the Fairy Lord’s spell protecting them. And deeper into the deadly miasma they fought, but first the Fey and then the men began to retch and the horses to groan.
Émile called for a retreat, and, leaving their dead behind and aiding their wounded, hindward the allies reeled as night came on.
And the throng stopped to rest.
And a league farther along the slot, so did the allies.
And the next day and the next, the battle went on, the throng driving into the allies again and again, each time driving them hindward. Yet at last the horde broke free of the pass, and the allies fell back to make one final stand on the banks of the River of Time.
54
AwAy
For two moons and two days—as near as they could gauge by their waking and sleeping patterns—Valeray and his family as well as Raseri and Rondalo tried all they could to escape the confines of the Castle of Shadows. After they had discovered the castle would mold itself to accommodate its prisoners, they had attempted to push it beyond its limits by imagining that they needed long hallways and huge chambers and pools and forests and gardens and flowerbeds and stables and riding paths and a place for a Dragon to romp. Yet it seemed the castle itself was the only judge of what they actually needed, and so, some things it molded for their use, while other things it did not.
Still, the prisoners tried breaking through the walls, or scratching their way out, there where they suspected it was weakened or thin, all to no avail. And Valeray continued to try combinations of exits through the shadowlight doorways and windows, but always the moment he passed through one portal he immediately entered through another, not having achieved any exit from the castle whatsoever. Scruff, too, flew into the twilight arches, yet he, too, simply hurtled in through another.
And though it seemed hopeless, neither Camille nor Céleste nor Liaze would allow the others to fall into ennui, for the sake of Duran if nought else. And so they played games—échecs being one of these, and none could best Raseri—and they told tales and made up rhymes and puzzles and tried to resolve the redes of the Fates. And Camille and Rondalo and Alain sang all the songs they could remember—sometimes as solos, other times as duets, and even as trios, though occasionally all joined in, even Raseri, the Dragon now and then voicing in a register so low it was only felt and not heard.
Yet not all time was spent in these activities, for oft they passed candlemarks away from one another, resting in thought and spirit. And now and then Alain and Camille made love, as did Valeray and Saissa, though each of the couples felt somewhat guilty that the others did not have such respite.
And thus they slept and waked and pondered and kept active for what they guessed to be two moons and two days, but they did neither eat nor drink nor eliminate, for it seems in the Castle of Shadows such things were completely unnecessary.
Musing over the redes the Fates had given, Camille descended the steps of the staircase leading down from the quarters above, and, just as she sat on the lowermost one, of a sudden one more thing fell into place. Ah, so that’s what the words mean, or at least I so do think. If I am right, I understand more than I did, though there yet remain mysteries.
She heard footsteps on the treads above, and she turned to see Alain moving down. She smiled, and he returned it, and he sat at her side.
“I think I’ve solved another small part of a rede,” said Camille.
“Oh? Which one?”
“The one Urd gave to Roél.”
“Which part?”
“Where it says: ‘ ’Pon the precipice will ye be held.’ ”
“And . . . ?”
“Well, I think the precipice is—”
“Have you seen Duran?” Céleste called from the entrance to one of the lower halls.
Alain turned toward her. “No. Why?”
“Well, I can’t find him, and it is our time to play hide and seek.”
“Then I imagine that rascal is already hidden.”
Céleste came on out into the great chamber. “But I’ve looked everywhere. Ah, Alain, I am worried. He seems to have disappeared.”
“Mayhap he’s with Raseri,” said Camille. “You know how Duran likes to go for a ride.”
“Non, Camille, I’ve been there and elsewhere, too, and he’s simply not to be found.”
Alain stood. “I’ll help you look.”
“I’ll go as well,” said Camille.
“Go where?” asked Liaze from above.
“Duran is hiding,” said Alain.
Liaze smiled. “The little sneak. I’ll help look.”
Alain turned to Céleste. “You and Liaze search the rooms above, while Camille and I take this floor.”
“All right.”
As Céleste started up the stairs, Camille called after her, “Make certain that Raseri hasn’t hatched some jest of his, for he can be sneaky as well.”
Alain roared in laughter.
When Camille turned toward him and cocked an eye, Alain smiled and said, “I merely find it peculiar to think of such a whopping big Drake as being ‘sneaky’ at anything.”
Camille made a moue and said, “Oh, Alain, you know what I mean,” but Alain kept on grinning.
A candlemark later no one was smiling, and all were now involved in the search, even Scruff, the small sparrow swiftly flying from room to room. Yet of Duran there was no sign.
“Oh, Love, do you think this awful castle has done something with him?”
Desperation shone on Alain’s face as they hurried down from a high turret. “I don’t know, Camille.”
Borel’s face was grim and he said, “Mayhap the castle has done something to him.”
“Oh, don’t say that, Borel,” protested Saissa, nearly in tears.
Echoing from somewhere else in the castle, they heard Raseri’s roar of frustration at finding nought, followed by words from Rondalo, but what the Elf said, they could not hear.
Saissa stepped into a junction between corridors, and she looked this way and that. “Oh, my little Duran, where have you gotten to?”
Valeray and Liaze popped out from an adjoining hallway, and Valeray growled, “I swear, this wing is empty. He is not here.”
Camille burst into tears, and Alain took her in his arms. After a long moment he said, “Love, go back to the great chamber, while we work our way down. If he is somehow running before us, he will have to pass through.”
Wiping her cheeks, Camille nodded, and she disengaged herself from Alain’s embrace. And as they divided and headed back up to the turrets, Camille stepped to the stairs to descend.
And when she came to the great hall, there was Duran on hands and knees clip-clopping his Asphodel across the floor.
With a shriek, Camille flew to him and scooped him up and rained kisses upon his face. “Oh, Duran, my baby Duran, where have you been? We’ve searched everywhere.”
Duran scowled and declared, “I’m not a baby, Maman.”
“Oh no, oh no, you’re not a baby, but you’ll always be my baby.”
Duran frowned in puzzlement, trying to work his way through her contradiction. But ere he could do so—
“Alain! Alain! I found him,” cried Camille, hoping her call would be heard in the far turrets away. And then she hugged Duran tightly and kissed his face once more, and he pursed his lips and kissed her in return.
As if reluctant to let him go, she slowly set him down to the floor. “But where have you been, Duran?”
“Out on the bridge, playing with Asphodel.”
“Out on what bridge?”
Duran pointed toward the arch filled with shadowlight. “That one there.”
Camille’s eyes flew wide. “You went through the . . . through the door? There’s a bridge beyond?”
“Oui, Maman. Come, I’ll show you.”
Duran took Camille by the hand and led her to the crepuscular arc
h, where . . .
. . . they stepped through and Camille found herself on a torchlit bridge with nought but a great black void all ’round.
Camille gasped and turned about, and there before her looming up into the blackness stood the castle, with its turrets and towers and ramparts dimly lit by the torches along the parapets of the bridge.
Once again she turned ’round, and some fifty or so paces away, the bridge came to an abrupt end, as if it had somehow been severed in two by the stroke of a monstrous great axe. Where the missing part of the span was, she could not tell nor did it matter.
With her mind racing, she lifted up Duran and spun him about, laughing gaily, and then she crowed, “Lady Urd said, ‘The least shall set ye free,’ and, oh, my Duran, I think she must have meant you.”
“Meant what, Maman?”
“Meant that you were a key to this dreadful place.”
“I’m not a key,” protested Duran, frowning. “I’m a boy.”
Camille laughed with joy and said, “Mais oui, my sweet, you are my precious boy. Come, let us go back in and tell the others.”
But when Camille came to the archway, every time she stepped into the shadowlight she found herself and Duran back on the bridge.
“Oh, child, I can’t get through.”
“Put me down, Maman. I’ll take you in.”
Camille set Duran to his feet, and he reached up and took her hand and . . .
. . . led her inside.
“Alain!” Camille called out again, for clearly he had not heard her the first time, else he and the others would be here by now. “Alain! Papa, Maman! Borel, Liaze, Céleste! Raseri, Rondalo! To me! To me!” she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the great chamber.
Céleste poked her head across the railing of a balcony high above. “What is it, Cam—? Oh, I see, you’ve found him.” She turned and called to someone behind, and soon Borel looked over the parapet.
Shortly, all were in the great chamber, including Scruff, and Duran was now in his father’s arms. And Camille said, “Duran can get us free.”
What? exclaimed several at once.
Camille retrieved the child from Alain and set him to his feet and said, “Take me to the bridge.”
Duran reached up and took her hand, and led her out to the torchlit half-span.
“Now, my little prince, go and get your father.”
Within moments, Alain stood on the bridge. “But why? How?” he asked Camille.
“I don’t know how ’tis done, Love, yet perhaps Urd’s rede explains all. She said, ‘The least shall set ye free,’ and here we are, outside the prison.”
Alain knelt and hugged his child and said, “Duran, you must bring everyone out here.”
“Raseri, too?”
Alain nodded. “Raseri, too.”
“Scruff?”
“Oh, indeed, Scruff.”
“And Asphodel.”
“Yes, Duran, especially Asphodel.”
And one by one Duran set them all free of the castle, and Camille and Alain were giddy with joy. And they laughed as Duran duckwalked out leading Scruff by a wing, the tiny sparrow querulously chirping yet hopping along by the boy’s side. Finally he led Raseri out, holding onto the tip of one of the Drake’s saberlike claws. But then, before any could stop him, Duran darted back in to the castle, and Camille despaired, for none could go and fetch the child. But moments later, Duran came clip-clopping his Asphodel out.
As Camille caught the child up in her arms, Raseri said, “I deem I can bear half beyond the Black Wall of the World, and then return for the other half.”
“Ladies first,” said Rondalo.
And Céleste said, “Rondalo, give me your bow, for we know not what waits on the far side, and I am the best of us four.”
The slim Elf nodded, and strung his bow and handed it and the quiver of arrows to her.
Camille called Scruff to her shoulder pocket, and then all the women mounted, Céleste with the bow sitting foremost, and Alain lifted Duran up to Camille, along with Asphodel.
The Drake then slithered to the end of the span and leapt outward into the darkness and plummeted down, all riders but Scruff and Duran gasping in fear. Raseri unfurled his mighty wings and soared upward again. Scruff then fell asleep, for all about was a darkness deeper than that of night.
And with his wings hammering through the blackness, Raseri flew along the single course that would take them to freedom.
“The last time I did this,” he bellowed, “I nearly caught Hradian and Orbane. Mayhap the next I see them, the ending will be different.”
And on he flew. . . .
. . . to finally burst through the Black Wall of the World and fly into the silver light of dawn.
And waiting below stood seven white steeds.
“Oh, my,” exclaimed Camille, “now I understand.”
“Understand what?” asked Saissa.
“Lady Skuld’s rede, spoken to Laurent, as well as the one Verdandi told to Blaise.—Raseri, land next to the horses, for they are the get of Asphodel and are meant for us.”
Raseri spiralled down, to come to ground nigh the steeds.
“Now go, Raseri, fetch the others, and hurry,” said Camille, “for we are needed elsewhere.”
Without questioning the princess, Raseri said, “Ward your eyes,” and Camille covered Duran’s and closed her own. And the Dragon took to flight, his mighty pinions driving down great blasts of air—dust and grit and grass flying ’round—as he winged his way upward. Then he shot back through the Black Wall of the World and vanished.
The horses came trotting, and Duran laughed in glee for here were some “real” Asphodels, and for the first time the women could see that arms and armor—swords, long-knives, lances, bows and arrows, along with breastplates and helms and greaves—were affixed to the saddles, along with garb to be worn. And they cast off the dresses in which they had been garbed ever since the closing ceremonies of the Faire and donned the apparel given, and it all fitted nicely, though how someone could have known just what sizes were needed was anyone’s guess. Saying that but for the bow she knew little of combat, Camille gave her own armor to wee Duran, and lo! it diminished to fit the child. And then they knew Fairy magic was at hand.
As she strapped on a greave, Liaze asked, “You have solved both Skuld and Verdandi’s redes?”
“I think so, or at least enough to know what we must do, for Urd’s rede applies as well. Or at least a part of each does.”
“And that is . . . ?” asked Saissa.
“We must mount these children of Asphodel, all of us, and ride to the headwaters of the River of Time, for that’s where Orbane will go, for he intends to pollute it beyond all redemption.”
Liaze’s eyes flew wide. “Ah, oui. You are right, Camille.”
Saissa frowned in puzzlement. Liaze noted her mère’s bafflement and said, “Camille is right, for the one rede says:
“Swift are the get of his namesake,
That which a child does bear;
Ask the one who rides the one
To send seven children there.
At the wall there is a need
For seven to stand and wait,
Yet when they are asked to run,
They must fly at swiftest gait.
The whole must face the one reviled
Where all events begin:
Parent and child and child of child
Else shall dark evil win.”
“Ah,” said Saissa, enlightened. She gestured at the white horses, one nuzzling Duran, the young prince laughing, Scruff now chirping in joy and circling about. “And these are the seven children. And they are here at the Black Wall, for here is a need.”
“A need for us to face the one reviled,” said Céleste. “Orbane.”
“And we must go where all events begin,” said Camille, “and that is at the headwaters of the River of Time.”
Saissa said in dismay, “But surely we need not take wee Duran.”<
br />
“We have no choice, Maman,” said Liaze, “for the words tell us that all must go: ‘Parent and child and child of child,’ and that includes Duran.”
“But why?”
“For his limit to be found,” said Camille.
“Limit? What limit? Whose limit?” asked Saissa.
And Camille intoned:
“Grim are the dark days looming ahead
Now that the die is cast.
Fight for the living, weep for the dead;
Those who are first must come last.
Summon them not ere the final day
For his limit to be found.
Great is his power all order to slay,
Yet even his might has a bound.”
Camille looked at her son and added, “I deem we are needed along with the Firsts to somehow thwart Orbane.”
“The Firsts?” asked Céleste. But then she said, “Oh, I see: ‘Those who are first must come last,’ and that means the Firsts.”
“But what of Urd?” asked Liaze. “I do not see how what she said applies.”
“But for one thing, or perhaps two,” replied Camille, “I am not certain either. Yet here’s what she said to Roél:
“ ’Pon the precipice will ye be held,
As surely as can be,
Yet can ye but touch the deadly arcane,
The least shall set ye free.”
Camille looked at Liaze and Céleste and then Saissa, and each frowned in puzzlement. “And what parts of the rede do you think apply?” asked Céleste.
“I think ‘the precipice’ means the linn where the River of Time begins.” Camille now looked at Duran and said, “And perhaps ‘The least shall set ye free,’ somehow might mean Duran.”
Saissa sighed. “And that’s why he must go.”
“Oui, Maman,” said Camille, grimly, “that’s why he must go.”
In that moment, Raseri hammered through the Black Wall of the World, and spiralled down to deposit Valeray, Borel, and Alain.
And when all had been explained, Borel said, “Then it’s to the headwaters of the River of Time we all go.”
Once Upon a Dreadful Time Page 32
