Over the Hills and Far Away

by Susan Skylark

  ~First two lines transplanted from a Nursery Rhyme~

  A Lady Unknown

  “I will avert this curse, witch,” vowed Bayard grimly, before turning deadly eyes upon his elder brother, and finishing coldly, “and I will return and see that your treachery comes to naught.” He turned sharply on his heel and stalked out of the room.

  The crown prince turned worried eyes to the comely woman who remained at his side, smiling in vast amusement, said she, “I would not worry about him my Lord. My spells are not so easily thwarted and my words shall come to pass. Tomorrow shall be his last day to walk a mortal man under the sun.” Her eyes grew hungry and her smile deepened as she purred, “now what of our bargain?”

  The young man swallowed nervously but said resolutely, “we shall be married at once and you will be Queen, just as we agreed. But what of my father the King?”

  Her smile grew evil, “leave him to me.” An involuntary shiver ran down the prince’s spine and he wondered if he had the nerve to go through with this coup after all, but it was too late to turn back now; who knew what vile hex she would lay upon him if he balked? He offered her his arm and guided her out of the room.

  Bayard had no sooner shut the door than he broke into a run towards the stables, he would find a way to break the curse that had been laid upon him and return before any more fell deeds could befall his family and Kingdom. A less prudent man might have lashed out at brother and sorceress alike, once their treachery had been revealed, but Bayard knew he was as helpless before this woman as a kitten before a mastiff. He felt it to his very soul that she would have done something far worse ere his sword had cleared the scabbard and thus ended all argument, permanently, but now he had a chance, slim though it be, to act against her and his treacherous brother. But how? His mind raced more quickly than his feet, seeking an answer, but all he could think to do was flee the castle and hope some answer presented itself once he was free of all pursuit. He came to a dead stop the moment he entered the shadowy confines of the Royal Stable and smiled to see two horses already saddled and waiting.

  He opened his mouth to ask Peter, his faithful friend and servant who was adjusting one last buckle on the saddlebags, how he had known but the man answered, ere the words left his lips, “I saw your brother and that beautiful but foul feeling woman talking secretively in the courtyard not long ago and knew something was dreadfully amiss Sire. I assumed you might need to make a quick escape. All is ready for a journey of some days, Highness, if that is your need or desire.”

  He bowed respectfully but failed to completely hide his triumphant smile at foreseeing his master’s needs. The boy would have hugged the man, had he time, but instead he smiled gratefully even as he swung into his saddle, “you must teach me this uncanny skill of foresight you seem to have on occasion.”

  The old servant climbed into his saddle and replied as they trotted out of the stableyard, “I fear it is a thing one either has or has not, it cannot be taught. What is our road?”

  The boy shook his head, “we must get away from here and under cover as soon as possible, I do not trust that they are finished with me, curse or no.”

  Peter turned worriedly to his young master, “curse?”

  The boy laid his heels into his horse’s flanks, urging the beast to a gallop, though whether out of haste or to avoid the question, Peter knew not, but followed silently after his master. Only when they were free of the castle and the city and safely beneath the shade of the surrounding forest, did Bayard respond, “you yourself said she was a foul feeling woman, and no truer words have ever been spoken. She is a veritable witch, despite her fair facade and has promised that tomorrow shall be my last mortal day under the sun. I promised in return, to break the curse and avenge their treachery.” Peter was both devastated and intrigued by the boy’s words, had he a way to break the spell? Bayard saw the eager light in the man’s grim eyes and shook his head sadly, “nay dear friend, I currently know not how to avert my doom, but I must if the Kingdom is not to fall into their vile hands.”

  Peter let out a heavy sigh, “then let us to the Wildwood my lad, if ever there were a place rife with Magic, it is the Wood, and now perhaps it is our only hope though most men deem it suicide to venture thither.” The boy nodded his agreement and turned his horse towards the supposedly haunted wood on the Eastern borders of the Kingdom.

  They pushed the horses hard, for the boy’s allotted time was short, and by evening they had reached the borders of that legendary forest. They dismounted and led the huffing creatures into the twilight beneath the trees, following the sound of babbling water, as man and beast were alike desperate for a drink. They walked on as the night deepened, thinking it strange that they neither stumbled nor lost their way in the darkening wood, for as the sound of the water grew stronger, so too did a gentle and cool radiance fill the forest about them with ample light to see, as if the yet hidden moon stood high and full overhead. They entered a clearing in which stood a fountain, from whence came the light and the water’s song, but before they dared drink, a woman of beauty and bearing like unto babbling water in the moonlight, stood forth and said, “welcome wanderers, drink not of the fountain, save at your own peril. Instead, refresh yourselves with all that I shall freely provide.” The thirsty and skittish men exchanged a curious look, sensing this vision before them carried none of the threat and evil that hung about the sorceress that had sparked this foolish adventure.

  The young prince stepped forward, bowed, and said courteously, “we thank you for your kindness, my Lady. We have ridden long and far this day and are in desperate need of refreshment and our beasts more so.” She smiled at his polite words and motioned towards the far side of the clearing where a delightful repast lay, as if awaiting their coming, for both man and beast. The men tended to their spent horses before slaking their own thirst. “Will you not join us?” asked Bayard as he and Peter sat upon the grass and began to eat.

  She sat nearby and laughed like a happy girl, “nay lord, but I shall attend you as you sup, if that is your wish.”

  They dug in heartily and only after the edge was taken off their hunger did Bayard slow enough to begin conversation in earnest with their gracious host, said he, “what is the danger in the fountain lady?”

  She smiled impishly and said, “that I will not tell you until the dawning, sir. Tonight you will sleep beside it and if you can keep from succumbing to its sweet song, in the morning you will find it worth your while.” So they ate and drank and felt their hearts at last at ease, despite the horrors and rigors of the day. Bayard almost forgot the curse that lay upon him, but before he could ask their fair host if she knew aught of such things, she stood quite suddenly and said, “nay lord, I cannot answer you as you would wish. If there is an answer, it does not lie with me. Perhaps there is one wiser to aid you deeper in the Wood, but for tonight, let your heart find rest in what I can offer.” She bid them goodnight and walked primly away.

  Peter swallowed a last mouthful with relish and then said wonderingly, “this is a different sort of magic altogether, and one I am glad to have encountered. I hope it bodes well for the rest of our journey.”

  Bayard nodded his agreement, staring off into the woods where that lovely creature had vanished. The light from the fountain dimmed slightly as they settled down to sleep, as if it knew the glare might keep them awake, but its song soon soothed them into a dreamless slumber. They were wakened at first light by the songs of innumerable birds in the trees above them. The Lady of the Fountain greeted them warmly as they began to stir and offered them a breakfast as wonderful as supper had been. She smiled triumphantly, “you did not touch the fountain or the water therein. You were not even tempted?”

  Bayard snorted in amusement, “nay lady, your provender was filling enough to heart and body, what more could we desire?”

  Peter added under his breath, “we have had our fill of magic of late and wou
ld not gladly entangle ourselves in more.” Her eyes laughed as they met his and he knew she had heard him. He bowed stiffly before turning away in embarrassment.

  They did justice to her provisions and she watched them joyously. Supper had eased their troubled hearts and calmed their agitated spirits. Breakfast filled them with a desire to be on their way on such a lovely morning. Even the horses seemed fresh from the stable. Said she as they made ready to ride, “take this my lord, perhaps it will aid you on your way.” She handed him a smooth stone that one might easily mistake for ice, save that it was only cool to the touch not freezing. She continued, “whenever you need water, simply cast this stone into a ditch, gully, or hole and it will fill with water. Take it as your reward for avoiding the temptations of the fountain.”

  He asked wonderingly, “and what is the danger therein?”

  Her impish smile returned, “there is nothing of virtue or vice about the fountain or the water therein. When I said that one drank it at their own peril, the peril of which I spoke was that of revealing an utter lack of self-control and patience, of showing one’s complete lack of manners and propriety.”

  Bayard smiled, “I am glad you find me at least civilized, my Lady.” He said with a sigh, as his face fell, “you can give us no clue to this riddle?”

  She shook her head sadly, “nay lord, I can only refresh and encourage weary travelers upon their way. But take heart, the Wood is wide and broad, filled with wonders and dangers aplenty. You will find what you seek, or rather what you need.”

  They bid her a warm farewell and continued on their way. The fountain’s song had barely ceased in their ears when the trees ended suddenly and a narrow and desolate waste opened before them. They could see the trees, green and healthy, on the far side of the clearing, but what should have been a lush and rolling meadow was sere and empty of any growing thing. A few beasts, little more than walking skeletons, wandered listlessly about the clearing, their heads down and paying no heed to the intruders. A ruined farmstead stood at one end of the waste and a family in as poor condition as their livestock sat or stood dejectedly in the midst of it. When the folk did not bother to leave their misery to greet the strangers, Bayard turned his horse towards the crumbling farmyard. Only when he was nearly atop them, did they look up from their dejection.

  The man stood, bowed his skull-like head to the young man, and said miserably, “you would be wise to ride on my lord, for a curse hangs heavy upon us.”

  Bayard smiled grimly, “I will not ride on until I have heard your tale of woe, my good man.”

  The man cheered slightly, if only in eagerness to share his woes with another, said he, “three days ago, a sorceress passed this way and cursed our once prosperous farm. No harm or insult did we give her, but it seems merely for the joy of our misery did she treat us thus. There was once a bright and happy stream that wound through the midst of the meadow, but with a word she dried it up and then said no water or rain would ever slake our thirst save that of the vanished beck. Neither would death be permitted to give relief in its turn.”

  Bayard’s grim smile deepened, “I believe I know this very witch and have run afoul of her myself. I have yet to find an answer to the hex she has laid upon me but I can perhaps remedy some of her mischief.” He took the Lady’s stone out of his pocket and cast it into the dry creek bed. In moments, the stream was running fast and clear once more, the withered grass and crops were renewed, the miserable stock was revived, the crumbling homestead was restored, and the entire family was immediately hale and hearty as they had been only a few days prior.

  The delighted farmer said in astonishment, “what can we do to repay your kindness, my lord?”

  Bayard shook his head sadly, “if only you could do for me as easily as I have done for you, but alas it cannot be, so go on with your lives in peace and joy and repay what kindness you can to other wayfarers who pass this way.” The man bowed his head in thanks and their benefactor soon trotted out of sight, but the tale lived on as long as the man’s descendants had breath to tell it.

  The sun was setting as they emerged once more from the Wildwood and came to the grassy banks of a river deep and slow. They had encountered nothing else that day that might not be seen in any forest of the world. It had been a pleasant day, if it was to be his last, but they had found no answers. Bayard drew rein beside the stream and dismounted, the ever-faithful Peter did likewise. There was a look of resignation and acceptance in the boy’s eyes, as he said to the servant, “I do not know what this night shall hold my friend, whether it shall simply be death or something worse but ere the morning comes, I advise you ride on and leave me to my fate lest it endanger you in some way.”

  Peter shook his head and nearly begged, “nay lord, I shall remain until whatever is to come has passed.” Bayard sighed at the man’s stubbornness but was relieved that he would not have to face the unknown terrors alone. They let the horses drink and then turned them loose to crop upon the grass beside the river, there was no sense in going further as the light was failing and there was no amicable fountain to light their way. Here would they await whatever was to come.

  As he sat upon the bank under the light of a young moon, enthralled by the murmur of the water and the crickets’ song, Bayard came fully awake as an irregular movement in the water caught his eye. A moment later, the creature that had caused the erratic ripple in the otherwise quiet flow surfaced and drew near the bank. Bayard smiled in wonder, it appeared to be a comely young maiden who had the uncanny ability to live underwater. She returned his smile and said without introduction or preamble, “I have heard of your plight sir, and will offer what counsel I might.”

  He cocked his head and frowned slightly, “how is it you know of my problems, maid?”

  Her smile widened in bemusement, “news of such things travels fast in an enchanted forest, but I am no daughter of men, my lord, but rather of the watersprites, as such I know many of the folk who are quite foreign to the mind of mortal man, but perhaps therein lies your rescue. You cannot wander abroad under the sun a mortal man come the morrow, or so the tale goes.” She looked a question at him, he nodded, too curious to speak. She continued, “then when the sun rises you must not be found a mortal man.” He smiled at her as one who is grateful for your attempt at help but who knows nothing can avail him. She laughed outright and said, “I do not speak in vain, lord. If you will agree to my offer, you will be free of your curse.”

  His skeptical look became all eagerness, as she continued, “there is a worthy lady of my acquaintance, a truly dear friend, who is in want of a husband and has asked if I might not keep an eye out for such a one. Upon entering this engagement you will be granted temporary immortality, thus thwarting the curse laid upon you. Either of you can end the betrothal at any moment before you are wed, but the moment you are married, the arrangement is permanent. Of course if you or she chooses to renege, the curse will have its way with you, but you will not be forced to enter into a union that is utterly despicable to you. It will at least buy you time to rescue your Kingdom from the clutches of that vile sorceress.”

  Bayard stared at the water nymph in wonder; it was a strange bargain but better than death. He asked quietly, “what sort of creature is your lady friend?”

  The water maiden laughed like a little brook, “that you will not learn until after you are wed and have irrevocably joined yourself to her race.”

  His eyes narrowed, “are there no worthy fellows amongst her own kind that might not serve her thus?”

  The maiden laughed again, “none that suit her, thus she is willing to look beyond her own people for a husband. Will you do it?”

  A wild gleam sparkled in his eyes, “what have I to lose? Very well, the bargain is struck.”

  The sprite vanished for a moment beneath the river’s swirl and reemerged with a glittering ring of silver in her hand. Bayard extended his hand and she placed
the ring on his finger. “Now,” said she, “return to your home and do what you must, but meet your betrothed by the Lady’s Fountain in four days at eventide. Remember, old age and sickness are now held at bay, as is your curse, but you can still die by accident or violence. To end the engagement, simply remove the ring or she may ask its return if she finds you not to her liking. Fare thee well.” She vanished into the river’s depths and did not reappear.

  Peter had been sitting higher up on the bank watching the exchange and stared at his master in wonder, but a wan smile graced his lips, “have you an answer my lord?”

  Bayard smiled grimly, “an answer but also a riddle, perhaps I am in deeper trouble than when the day began.”

  “Perhaps,” said the older man, “or perhaps not. Shall we ride home?”

  “Certainly,” said the boy, gaining his feet, “I only have a few days to put my affairs in order and who knows what that witch has been up to in the interim.”

  They caught and saddled the horses and were soon enough on their way, the light of the moon giving enough light to see while in the open, but once they entered the forest, Peter could see nothing at all and he cried out, “is this wise lord?”

  Bayard answered back with a laugh of wonder, “I can see quite well, just let your horse have his head and I will lead us out.”

  Peter said in nervous mirth, “have you another of those rings for me? They seem to be quite handy upon occasion.”

  Bayard quietly replied, “we shall see if you feel the same once the full cost is known.”

  “Aye lad,” said Peter in dismay, “I had forgotten the price of such a bauble. Lead on, lad, lead on.”

  They continued on in silence and came to the Lady’s Fountain at daybreak. She met them there and gladly offered them refreshment for both body and soul, man and beast. She listened to their tale with joy as they ate, and then said as they returned to their saddles, “do not despair my lord, the waterfolk do not befriend anyone who is not well worth knowing, your lady shall be worthy indeed else the nymph would not esteem her in the least.” The lady’s words did much to bolster his courage as they rode off into the waxing day.

  They reached the castle as the sun was setting, grateful that the lady’s provender proved as good or better than a night’s rest, for tonight they must act rather than sleep, for the Prince and his vile lady would be married this very evening and the festivities surrounding their nuptials would be the best and only time for the renegades to infiltrate the castle and put an end to their treachery. The city gates were wide open and unguarded, for all were bidden to the marriage celebration whether they would or not. The town lay silent and empty, as if it were abandoned, as all were attending the festivities. They found but a single guardsman on duty at the castle gates, who hastened to them the moment they were recognized, said he, “come away out of sight my lord, for your brother and his new wife would have you both in chains if they could catch you.” They stepped into a shadowed corner of the stableyard to hear what he might say while the noise of the wedding feast within filled the courtyard.

  Said the estimable guardsman as they dismounted, “I challenged her ladyship at the gate on the morning she entered the keep, and I have not been in her favor since and am lucky to be alive I suppose, but so it is that I am left alone to ward the gates while all others are within at the wedding feast. The King has not left his bed since the day she came, he is supposedly ill but I doubt not that she has had a hand in the matter. Both of you are accused of the worst treachery and orders were given for your immediate arrest should either of you be found, but I think rather the treachery lies with the lady and her new husband. I am at your service, my lord.”

  Bayard smiled gratefully and said to both of his faithful friends, “I will attempt to end my brother’s treachery this night, but little do I know how to accomplish my task.”

  “You’ll have a difficult time indeed, lad, for the woman is a witch,” said a grim voice. Bayard looked up in surprise, recognizing the voice and wondering from whence it came.

  The guardsmen said disgustedly, as Bayard fully took in the scene before him, “this also is that woman’s doing. Once the feasting is done, they thought to make merry in the courtyard with a great fire and use this so-called heretic for kindling.”

  “Not if I can help it,” snarled Bayard angrily, as he drew his knife and cut loose the ropes binding the aging man to the stake in the midst of a great pile of wood.

  The Sage stepped away from his appointed doom with a look of bewildered amusement and bowed to the young man, “I too am at your service Highness. I thank you for the rescue, but I think we all face deadly peril this night, so I will not yet thank you for my life until all is said and done.”

  Bayard faced the Sage and asked, “have you any idea how to best this witch?”

  Said the sage thoughtfully, “a direct confrontation will only end in disaster. Stealth is our best weapon, but you cannot hope to sneak up behind her and stab her in the back without half the Kingdom noticing. Rather, let us see to your father and perhaps therein lies our hope.”

  The boy frowned in confusion, but as he wanted to rescue his father from the woman’s influence, he did not argue. The guardsman was left to ward the gate and keep a watch in case any in league with the witch happened by; Peter donned the Sage’s robes and took his place at the stake for the same reason. The Sage and Bayard snuck into the castle, garbed as servants, and made their way unseen to the room wherein the King lay abed. The room was dark and unwarded as they entered. The King lay asleep in his bed, but the Sage ignored him after a cursory examination to discover if he were still alive or perhaps under some spell. The Sage lit the candle by the bedside and examined the powdery substance he found in a bowl on the table there.

  He smiled in grim understanding as he said, “your father will wake once he no longer receives a daily dose of this vile poison. A tiny amount causes sleep, a little more results in death. Here perhaps you have your answer.”

  Bayard took the small bowl in his hands and stared in disgust at the innocuous looking powder, saying grimly, “I suppose it is the only way, but I cannot help but deplore the use of such tactics.”

  The Sage shook his head grimly, “aye lad, it is the only way, underhanded and treacherous as it seems.”

  They snuck down to the kitchens, which were swarming with harried servants trying to keep the guests supplied with food and drink; they had no time or notice for anything not immediately pertaining to their current task. It was a simple matter to find the special pair of goblets that would be used by the newlyweds to toast their marriage, to dissolve a little of the toxic powder in each, and then to quietly withdraw. They returned to the courtyard, told all that they had seen and done, and after confiscating fresh horses from the stables, all four vanished quickly from the city before the tumult of confusion began after the newlyweds had drunk of their poisoned cups. The King wakened the next morning to find his Kingdom in chaos, but the sudden return of trusted and competent leadership soon put matters to rights, but none knew what had come of his missing son, Peter, the guardsman, or the Sage.

  By the next evening, the exhausted party nearly collapsed by the Lady’s Fountain, remaining awake only long enough to tend to their weary horses and take a light meal, before sleeping well into the next day. The Lady smiled warmly at Bayard as he wakened late the next morning, saying quietly, “well met my lord, I hope your errand was successful? You have returned well in time for your wedding, if such is still your desire.”

  Bayard smiled wryly, “yea lady, I have even brought my half of the wedding party.” His face fell slightly, he sighed, and continued, “yes, my task was completed, but not in a manner which a man of valor is wont to boast upon.”

  She nodded in commiseration, “it is never easy to be judge and executioner, especially when it must be carried out through subterfuge and deception.”

  He lay hi
s hand to his sword, “I have never regretted the killing of men in battle as this act now lies heavy on my heart.”

  She shook her head sadly, “in war you fight for what is thought to be a just cause and your foes have every chance of defending themselves.”

  He smiled weakly, “aye, I fear I have taken the coward’s way out.”

  The Sage had roused from his slumber and listened to the exchange with interest, adding at last, “nay Sire, your brother and his betrothed chose their own end when first they betrayed you and all the Kingdom. It was a regrettable end, yes, but so too would be the gallows.”

  Bayard stood and smiled grimly, “and happily I would not have to be the hangman. I know that it was all that could be done in the circumstances and will soon be at peace with my actions, but for a time it will gall me bitterly.”

  The rest of the party was beginning to stir and Bayard introduced Ondril the Sage and Garren, the faithful guard, to the Lady of the Fountain. Said she, “welcome dear and faithful friends. We shall have reason to celebrate indeed, for your beloved master will very soon wed a dear, sweet lady in this very place. While we wait for this blessed event, let each of you rest and recover from the tragedy of the last days and prepare yourselves for the joy that is to come.”

  Over the course of the day, she spoke quietly with each of the men, arranging their part in the festivities and seeing that they were properly clothed and coached in what they were to do. Great was their joy in one another’s company and in the simple pleasures of food, music, rest, and conversation. The following day, Bayard asked if the farmer and his family might not attend the wedding. The Lady looked expectantly over his shoulder and smiled, the entire family had just arrived. There was much joy in the meeting and in anticipating what was to come, but never was a hint made as to what strange people the unknown lady might belong.

  Finally, the sun sank on the appointed day, and Bayard’s heart began to beat violently in hope and fear, wondering what the night would bring. The sun vanished beyond the rim of the world, the first bright stars dappled the fathomless ocean of the twilit sky, and the fountain bathed the wood in gentle light and the music of joyous water. The guests and participants stood about, arrayed in their borrowed splendor, as the bride and her party finally arrived. The Lady joined the water maiden as one of the bride’s attendants, the Sage stood forth to perform the ceremony, while Peter and Garren attended the groom. The bride was hidden beneath a veil of gossamer material that might have been woven of moonlight, spider webs, and dew; her dress was of a similar material, but more opaque with thousands of tiny jewels twinkling in the light of star and fountain as she moved.

  They met before the Sage, his eyes wide with wonder and fear, but though he could not see her face for the veil, he knew she smiled warmly at him and he felt his fears guttering out like a spent candle. His smile deepened and he nodded to the Sage. The ceremony was simple and sweet, and once the irrevocable words had been spoken, he lifted her veil, and for a moment was silent in astonishment; never had he seen such a beautiful creature. A slight gasp escaped the mortal men present as well, but pausing only for a moment, he bent his mouth to hers and kissed her.

  Afterwards, the Lady provided another splendid feast out of the seemingly endless bounty of her goodness, and the company sat together and rejoiced in the happiness of their friends. The watersprite said to the bride with a laugh, “have I done well Aria?”

  Aria looked joyously at her new husband, then blushingly looked at her wine cup, “you have indeed, my friend. I hope he feels the same?”

  Bayard blushed in turn, but drew her close and smiled, “I do indeed!”

  They talked and sang and listened to tales of the Wildwood until the grey light of dawn replaced the moonlit glow of the Fountain. The farmer and his family wished them all well and sleepily made their way home, needing to tend to neglected chores that would not wait. The water nymph kissed her friend on each cheek, bid farewell to each of the others, smiled impishly at the groom, bowed to the Lady, and vanished into the waters of the fountain. The Sage smiled deeply and asked of the Lady, “would it be thought amiss if I spent some time getting to know this Wood of yours? It seems an intriguing place.”

  She smiled in delight and said, “nay sir, as a Friend of the Lady of the Fountain, you are welcome to dwell here as long as you wish, assuming that you are no fell worker of evil or mischief.” His smile deepened, if that were possible.

  Garren looked rather awkward, digging his toe into the mossy ground, and said abruptly, “one of us had best return and tell the King all that has happened, Sire.”

  Bayard placed a calming hand on the anxious man’s shoulder, “easy friend, you may stay or go to your liking, you are under no curse that requires you to abide.”

  He grinned foolishly, “thank you Sire, my family will be wondering what has come of me, as yours undoubtedly is. Can I tell the King you will visit him yourself in the days to come?”

  Bayard looked to his lady and she nodded vigorously, with a sweet smile upon her lips. Said the former Prince, “fare you well my friend, until we meet again.”

  The man bowed deeply to them both, made his farewells to the Lady, then bade the Sage and Peter a hearty goodbye, giving the latter a sad, knowing look before he caught his horse and rode towards home. The Sage and Lady made their own farewells of the newly wedded couple and withdrew upon their own errands, leaving only Peter of the original party who stood somewhat aloof from the pair, his eyes red with ill-contained tears. Bayard drew him close, his own eyes threatening to spill over, saying warmly, “well old friend, what is the matter? Here we are, happy and alive, a thing which we could not have foreseen a week gone. Why the tears?”

  Said the man gravely, “I am loath to part from thee lord, perhaps to death I must have let you go, but now I feel I have lost you all the same.”

  Understanding dawned upon him with a sudden dread of the utter strangeness of the world he was about to enter, a melancholy over the familiar world he was leaving behind. He turned to his lady and she seemed to know the horror sweeping through his once joyous heart, said she, “some day I hope that you will call my world your home, but I know it cannot be just yet, strange and terrifying as the new always is. Your man is faithful above anything I have ever seen amongst any kindred, mortal or fey. If he is willing, there is a way he might accompany us, but in so doing, he too must forsake the mortal sphere and all he once held dear.”

  Peter smiled sadly and went to one knee before this benevolent lady, saying quietly, “I have no family or kin to hold me here lady, the young lord has been in my keeping since he was barely old enough to leave his nurse and his welfare my only concern for many a year. The grateful King would see that my retirement was easy and quiet, therein would I soon die of grief, wondering how my lord fared in the wide world without me. Had he gone the way of all flesh, I would be comforted in knowing soon I would follow after. But this...to be sundered from him forever.”

  She smiled gently down upon the faithful man saying, “not forever, just until the sun and stars fail in their courses and the moon gives its light no more.”

  He smiled bemusedly up at her, “that would be long enough indeed for a mere man such as myself. I am yours, if you shall have me lady.”

  She bid him stand and said graciously, “your lord has bound himself irrevocably to my people by becoming my husband, you may do the same by swearing yourself to our service, but in your case the bond shall not be unbreakable. If ever you tire of your service to us, simply recant your vows and return to your own people.”

  A thoughtful look entered his eyes as he said, “and may I ask who or what are your people, lady?”

  She laughed as a light breeze through young birches in the spring, “wise you are to inquire sir.” She looked sweetly upon Bayard and continued, “your lord bound himself unquestioningly to me and mine. You will not be so benighted in your own decis
ion. My people are known in your tongue as sylphs or spirits of the wind and air. You have met my cousin of the waters, we are like unto her folk, save in inhabiting the air. Have I frightened you from the side of your former lord?”

  He nodded to himself and smiled, “nay lady, you are not a folk of evil mien, nothing else would keep me from your service.”

  She cautioned him, “do not say my folk are not so, we like men and all reasoning folk, may choose to serve the ill or the good, to be mean or great of heart. There are villains among the fey as there are among men. Well?”

  He knelt before her and said, “lady, you have proven your own greatness of heart, let it be to me as you have spoken. I swear this day to serve you both, as long as you will have me.”

  She placed her hand upon his bowed head as if in blessing, and said, “rise, faithful heart, and be not parted from your master or his lady until it pleases thee.”

  As he rose, the breeze picked up and caught up leaves and petals in its airy grasp, sending them dancing and spinning about the three who exchanged a wondering look and were themselves lost to sight as they joined in the dance of the rising wind.

  “In the Beginning was the Word...and I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”