“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.”
Laurent paused and Auberon frowned and said, “I do not understand.”
“My lord, Prince Duran, the child of Alain and Camille, has a toy horse named Asphodel. And so the first two lines of the rede refer to that: Swift are the get of his namesake, that which a child does bear. Thus the get of Asphodel are swift, or so I would surmise. Does he have any offspring?”
“Oui, he has sired seven colts.”
Laurent clenched a fist and grinned in triumph. “Then list, the next lines say: Ask the one who rides the one to send seven children there. Hence, my lord, I ask, can you send the seven colts somewhere?”
“Oui, I only need to give the command. But where?”
“To the Black Wall of the World, my lord, for the next lines say: At the wall there is a need for the seven to stand and wait.
Hence they are to go to the Black Wall of the World, for what other wall could it be? And when they get there they are to wait.”
“Ah,” said Auberon, then frowned. “But wait for what?”
“I don’t know, my lord, but Lady Wyrd’s words must mean something, else she would not have said them. She also said that if I did not give this message to the one for whom it is intended, then all will be lost forever. And you, my lord, are surely the one for whom it is intended.”
Auberon slowly nodded. “Sieur, I do not know what is intended, yet if Skuld said those words, then indeed I must heed them.”
Auberon raised his silver horn to his lips and blew a call, silent to the human ears, though Asphodel nickered and all the Fey glanced toward their lord.
And even as Laurent looked on, out from among the Fairy horses, seven trotted forth. White they were, each and every one, as was their sire, and they were caparisoned with gilt bridles and saddles, and silver bells sounded as they came, and each was laded with accoutrements to equip a warrior.
“Where are their riders?” asked Laurent.
“They haven’t any,” said Auberon. “Asphodel, by snorting and nickering, insisted they come unridden and bearing gear, and now, it seems by this rede, we know why.”
“Perhaps he, too, speaks with Lady Wyrd,” said Laurent.
Auberon laughed and said, “Mayhap.”
Then the Fey lord dismounted and stepped to the colts, and they all looked at him intently, as if expecting a command. And Auberon uttered words in an arcane tongue, but what he said, Laurent could not tell, yet the seven colts whickered in return, and then galloped away, straight for the end of the pass toward which the throng marched.
Laurent wheeled his horse, Imperial, and galloped after, yet the colts were all the way down on the plains ere Laurent reached the crest of the outlet slope where he could see. He marveled at their fleetness as they hurtled ahead, passing wide of the oncoming horde and racing onward.
. .
“Loose!” cried Auberon, and arrows flew into the ranks of the throng, each one bringing sissing death with it. And Goblins shrilled and fell slain, as did Bogles and Serpentines. Trolls, though, were felled by heavy crossbow bolts, manned by Sieur Emile’s men.
Yet onward came the horde, stepping over their fallen and boiling into the narrow pass, and again and again the archers loosed their sleet of arrows, thousands of the enemy dying with each volley.
Goblin shafts flew in return, most to be caught on the pavises born by the shield men.
Michelle stood in the ranks of the archers, her own shafts nearly as deadly as those flown by the Fey, but the Fairy arrows were quite lethal, in spite of the fact that their magic had been negated by Gloriana’s unbreakable spell, a spell cast long past.
And yet the throng came onward, into the teeth of death, and soon on both sides the shafts of the archers had been spent, and now the phalanx of spearmen stood in the way of the horde.
Thousands of Goblins, gibbering in fear, were pushed forward by those behind, and, shrieking in terror, they tried to turn and flee back into the ranks. But the press would not let them, and on they came, only to be spitted by lances, or slaughtered by the blades of the men and the Fey. And the ones behind stumbled through entrails and blood and severed limbs and over the corpses of their dead, only to be slaughtered in turn.
Yet not all were killed ere they got in strikes of their own, and allies fell before the wildly swung clubs and bludgeons and scimitars and tulwars, of which there were so very many.
And the throng battered the allies back and back, deeper into the gut of the pass.
Time and again the knights hammered into the horde, reaping death as their harvest. And leading these charges were four lethal horsemen on white and red and black and grey mounts.
They were not Plague and War and Famine and Death, yet they were nigh as fatal.
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.
Emile 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.
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 Celeste nor Liaze would allow the others to fall into ennui, for the sake of Duran if nought else. And so they played games-echecs 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.
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 Roel.”
“Which part?”
“Where it says: ‘ ’Pon the precipice will ye be held.’ ”
“And. .?”
“Well, I think the precipice is-”
“Have you seen Duran?” Celeste 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.” Celeste 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 Celeste. “You and Liaze search the rooms above, while Camille and I take this floor.”
“All right.”
As Celeste 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 arch, 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, Celeste! Raseri, Rondalo! To me! To me!” she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the great chamber.
Celeste 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.”
<
br /> “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 Celeste 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, Celeste 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.
Once upon a dreadful time ou-4 Page 31
