Once Upon a Winter's Night fs-1
Page 43
Alain laughed and drew Camille close and kissed her and said, “Ah, Camille, who else but you would think to look within a person to find another hiding inside.”
A fortnight later, Giles arrived, riding with the courier who had gone to fetch him, the lad nearly thirteen now. Camille rushed out to welcome him, and though he was glad to see Camille, he seemed quite somber. He momentarily brightened when a sparrow came flying to alight on Camille’s shoulder, but then he fell glum again.
“What is it, Giles, what has happened?”
“Oh, Camille, Maman is dead.”
“What?”
Giles sighed. “When no gold came from the prince that third year.. well, you know that some of the young men courting our sisters did pitch coins down the garden well and make various romantic wishes-wishing for a kiss or to touch a breast or something even more daring, and I believe Joie and Gai complied, to what extent I don’t know. Regardless, while fishing up the wide, fine-mesh net she had hidden down in the water of the well to catch the coins ere they reached bottom, Maman fell in and got tangled in the net and drowned.”
Tears welled in Camille’s eyes. “Oh, poor Maman.” Yet Camille’s sorrow was mingled with relief: sorrow, for Maman was dead; relief, for Maman was dead. Even so, it was her mere who had drowned, and silent tears ran down Camille’s face. She embraced Giles and held him a bit, but then disengaged and wiped her eyes. Then sighing, she took Giles by the hand. “Come, we will have a meal in the gazebo, and you can tell me all else.”
As they strolled across the sward, Giles looked about. “Where is your Prince Alain?”
“At the moment I believe he is with his sire and dam inspecting the new horses, yet he will come soon. And we have something to ask you, something which I believe you’ll find quite remarkable.”
They walked on in silence, a silence finally broken by Giles as they reached the steps of the gazebo: “Your mansion is more grand than ever ours was.”
Camille nodded distractedly, then said, “Tell me, Giles, how is Papa holding up, now that Maman is gone?”
“Papa ran away with a femme du cirque; he took the place of a clown who had died of a bladder infection after being struck in the face by one.”
“What?” said Camille, shocked. “Papa ran away with a-”
“With a femme du cirque,” said Giles. “And he seems blissful, living on the road as he does and being a clown and cuddling with his circus girl.”
They mounted the steps and sat down, and Celine brought them lunch, the girl handmaiden to Camille, taking the place of she-who-was-Blanche but who now was Queen Saissa.
As Scruff hopped to the table to peck away at a portion of barley, “What of our sisters?” said Camille.
“All are married.”
“All? Married? Even Lisette?”
“Oh, yes.-Er, well, she was. You see, after our mansion burned down-”
“The mansion burned down?”
Giles nodded as he bit into a peach.
“Perhaps, Little Frere, you ought to tell me all.”
Giles sighed and said, “After the gold did not come from the prince, and Maman was discovered drowned-clutching a coin, a glare on her face-we found enough gold and silver and bronze in the net to keep us going for a while. Then Joie and Gai got married in a double ceremony and-”
“Married to whom?”
Giles looked at Camille as if wondering just why that was important, but he said, “Javert and Philippe. Anyway-”
Camille held out a hand. “Which one married which?”
Giles sighed heavily and said, “Joie married Javert and Gai married Philippe.” Giles paused, as if waiting for another of these unimportant questions, but Camille gestured for him to go on.
“When Colette got married”-Giles glanced at Camille-“to Luc, Lord Jaufre invited us all to his estate near Rulon, and that’s when Papa ran away with the circus. I hardly recognized him in those bloomers and that high, pointed hat, his face all white but for his big red nose and those shoes and-”
“Enough,” said Camille. “Go on with the rest.”
“Well, Papa left Lisette in charge, for she was the last but for me, and she said the money was running out. And so she married Lord Jaufre and-”
“She married that fat old roue?”
Giles nodded. “For his money, I think, for she did say she would send funds to me, and she moved to his estate and left me in charge of ours.
“For a while, things seemed all right, but, increasingly, Pons wouldn’t-”
“Pons, the majordomo?”
Giles nodded. “Pons wouldn’t follow my orders, and so I told him to pack his bags and be out by the morrow. I never did like him and his ways.
“In any event, that night the mansion caught fire, and all was lost. You see, living out where we did, there weren’t enough of us to quench it.
“Pons was missing, along with what little money I had left. Some think he died in the fire, but I don’t believe it is true. Regardless, now that the mansion was gone, I then went to live with Lisette and Lord Jaufre, him being the closest and all.”
Camille sighed and said, “And that’s where our courier found you?”
Giles shook his head and said, “No, he found me at Felise’s.”
Camille frowned. “Felise? What happened to Lisette?”
“She ran away with the apothecary.”
Camille’s eyes flew wide. “What? But what about Lord Jaufre?”
“He wasn’t a nice man, Camille.”
“Not nice? What do you mean?”
“Well, every night when he and Lisette went to bed, he would take those dogs with him.”
“Dogs?”
“Hounds,” said Giles. “Big ones.”
Camille turned up a hand. “And…?”
“Night after night I could hear Lisette crying, and Lord Jaufre laughing, and the dogs panting.”
“Oh, my,” said Camille, shuddering, imagining the worst, then shying away from that thought. “Then that’s why she ran away.”
“Non,” said Giles. “She ran away with the apothecary after Lord Jaufre died of acute indigestion, or so the apothecary who was also the coroner ruled. We buried Jaufre the next day, along with his six dogs, who, strangely, died that very same night as well.”
Camille drew in a sharp breath, but otherwise remained silent, her imagination running wild in another direction.
“Lisette became a very wealthy widow,” said Giles, “and that’s when she ran away, and I moved to Felise and Allard’s.”
Camille shook her head. “What’s the apothecary’s name? — The one Lisette lives with.”
“I don’t know,” said Giles. “Besides, she doesn’t live with him.”
“Doesn’t live with-”
“Non, Camille. Within a week or two, news came that the apothecary had vanished, run away said Lisette. But she is all right, quite happy, I think, for Felise told me Lisette is often seen gadding about with a young man on each arm.”
Camille fell back into her chair and gazed wide-eyed at Giles. “And here I thought I had had an adventure, but it seems to me that you-”
“Camille!” came a cry, and she turned to see Prince Alain riding toward her on a handsome bay.
Overwhelmed with the wonder of it all, nevertheless Giles accepted the regency of L’Ile de Camille; he would spend some time under the tutelage of Lanval, learning to read and write and to keep the books, as well as beginning to understand all that being a prince regent entailed. He would continue this way until it came time to leave for the port of Atterrage, there to meet with Captain Kolor and take the North Wind to the isle. Once on the isle, it would be Andre who would take up Giles’s education, and Giles would train alongside his steward-to-be Jules. In the interim at the manor, Giles attended all matters concerning Alain’s principality of Summerwood, for he needed to be tutored in affairs of state as well as those of estate… one event of which came just nine days after Giles’s arrival.
/> “Oh, Giles, come quick,” said Camille. “ ’Tis a rade, a rade, a magnificent rade, for Alain’s sisters and brother have come.”
“Raid?” blurted Giles. “Do I need a weapon? I don’t know how to use one. Perhaps I could wield a club or throw rocks.”
Camille laughed. “No, no, Little Frere. Not an r-a-i-d, but an r-a-d-e. Now quickly, dress in your finest, for Celeste and Liaze and Borel are here, and Borel has brought his Wolves.”
As Giles hurriedly dressed, Camille ran to her own closet and called for Celine. With the handmaiden’s aid, she slipped into an elegant indigo gown, a sprinkle of white pearls across the bodice and tiny white insets in the sleeves. Celine shod Camille in indigo slippers and gave her a white fan for her wrist, and the handmaiden wove indigo ribbons throughout Camille’s golden hair.
Then down the staircase Camille dashed, Scruff flying after, Giles coming behind, and they stood in the portico door and ooh ed and ahh ed as they watched the cavalcade come, with Borel’s Wolves loping into view first. Then came a splendid procession of high-prancing horses, with decorative tack and high-cantle saddles and riders accoutered in silks and satins. Up the white-stone way they came to curve ’round before the manor in great panoply and then to stop. As attendants stepped forward and took the reins of the horses, Camille grabbed Giles by the hand and hurried to stand on the granite-and-malachite, oak-tree inlay in the great welcoming hall, Scruff now on her shoulder.
Alain came to stand beside them, as did Lord Valeray and Lady Saissa.
And then Lanval at the entry called out, “The Ladies Celeste and Liaze and the Lord Borel.”
But as Celeste and Liaze and Borel saw their sire and dam whole and hale before them, and saw Alain standing in daylight uncursed, all formality dissolved into laughter and tears and hugging and questions flying and answers lost and Scruff’s agitated chirping.
“… and with the resolution of that final riddle, thus were your parents restored.”
Silence fell ’round the great dining table as Camille’s recounting came to the end, and each one there pondered what they had been told, some for the second time. Finally Borel said, “What would you have done Alain, without this girl?”
“Married a Troll, I expect,” said Giles.
Borel looked at the lad in surprise, but then burst into guffaws of laughter, all others joining in.
Yet when it died down, Valeray said, “Thanks to ‘this girl,’ as you called her, Borel, he was spared that hideous fate, as were we all. Nevertheless the question remains, now what are we to do? Stop Hradian, I would say, ere she finds a way to release Orbane.”
Murmurs of agreement circled the dining table, and Celeste said, “Borel, when you last located the witch, it was in the Winterwood, correct?”
Borel nodded. “Aye. There in the cursed part.”
Saissa sighed. “I was so sad when I first heard that a part of your most lovely demesne had fallen under bane.”
Borel nodded and glanced at Camille and said, “Probably cursed by Hradian herself to keep curious eyes away.”
“And on the most direct route unto the mortal world,” said Liaze. Then she added, “Not that anyone ever goes there but our dear brother Alain, and whatever for, I wonder?” Then she grinned at Camille.
“Are you two married yet?” asked Celeste.
“The banns are posted,” said Alain-he glanced at his father-“and a king notified.”
Borel looked from sire to brother, and said, “What say somewhile after the wedding, we three get a warband together and run down the witch?”
“Done!” said Alain
“Done!” said Valeray.
“Done!” said Camille.
All at the table looked at her in startlement, all but Alain that is. Lord Valeray frowned and said, “One moment there, my daughter-to-be, we will be opposing magic, and that’s no place for a girl.”
“Father,” said Alain, a bit sharply, “ne’er were there a braver girl with a truer heart nor a more clever wit, and without her, you and mother and I would all be captives of Olot and his Redcaps on Troll Island, and I would still be cursed as a Bear and be married to Dre’ela, and you would yet know yourselves to be Blanche and Renaud and be slaves to Goblins and Trolls. And as for opposing magic, she has done so, though perhaps not directly. Too, she faced down a Dragon, and battled a monster in the sea, and which of us can say we’ve done the same? Nay, sire, no matter the peril, she is welcome to come, along with her little Scruff too, for did not the Fates so say? Surely, sire, you would not challenge the Ladies Wyrd, Lot, and Doom.”
Lord Valeray took a deep breath and let it out, then shook his head and said, “I would not be so foolish. Welcome to the warband, daughter-to-be. We set out after the wedding.”
Epilogue: Afterthoughts
Thus ends this part of the tale which began long ago upon a winter’s night.
— Oh, and although I am not certain, there is this to ponder: just as Elves and other such Fey can become mortal by living overlong in mortal lands, who’s to say the reverse is not true? Mayhap by living in Faery overlong, Camille herself could become one of the Fey. If so, then she and Alain, if they manage to survive the peril ahead, might have a chance of living quite happily ever after in those places therein that now and again lie east of the sun and west of the moon, or so I have been told.
I was just wondering whose silver tongue or golden pen is telling the tale we find ourselves in.
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