Dennis McKiernan - Once upon a Summer Day

“It sounds as if you had quite an adventure, my lady, my lord,” said Arnot.

“I will tell you the whole of it in the days to come, Arnot,” said Borel. “But you, how have you fared?”

“Lord Borel, when you went to see Vadun, and must needs pass through the cursed section and nigh Hradian’s cote, we were worried. And when the Wolves returned without you, I had Jules”-Arnot gestured at the tall, dark-haired armsmaster-“organize a small warband, and they went looking for you. They found Hradian’s cote burned to the ground, some stone walls yet standing, others not, and they felt that something dreadful had occurred-”

“Hradian must have set it afire herself,” said Borel, “mayhap to destroy any evidence, for when last I saw it, it was yet standing.” Borel turned to Jules. “Did you find my rucksack? In it was a journal I would read.”

“Non, my lord,” said Jules. “All was burned.-But, my lord, does that mean you were there and inside?”

“I was until Hradian came; she sent me away upon a black wind,” said Borel. “But that is a tale for later telling, for I would hear yours first.”

Arnot signalled for Jules to take up the tale, and the armsmaster said, “From the burnt cote we marched on to Vadun’s abode, for he was who you had set out to see and have your dream divined, but the devin de reves said you had not arrived, and he knew nought of your whereabouts. After speaking with him, we knew nowhere to go to seek you, for surely the Wolves would have been at your side, or would have been tracking you… were you to be found. But they came back to the manor instead, and if they did not know where to go, then neither did we.”

Jules fell silent, but Arnot added: “A time later, the Wolves howled, and they sped away toward the Springwood, and Gerard and I thought you might be at the manor of Lady Celeste, and yet you were not.”

Chelle looked at Borel and said, “Surely, it was our dream drew them there.” She turned to Arnot and added, “I think it was an effect of the spell I was under, and it caught the Wolves as well.”

“Ah, then, magie,” said Arnot. Then he sighed and said, “I must tell you, my lord, Ladies Celeste and Liaze and Camille and Lord Alain are quite beside themselves with worry, missing as you are, or rather as you were. Yet none of us knew where to search. And the Lady of the Mere did not appear when Lord Alain went to ask after you, and so his question remained unanswered.”

At that moment they came to the doors of Winterwood Manor, and Borel said, “We will send falcons to my sisters and brother and let them know I am safe.”

Gerard sprang forward to open the door, and Borel handed off the steeds to the same gangly youth who had run ahead and now stood waiting. “Rub them down thoroughly, Redieu, and curry them and feed them and give them water, for they have served us well.”

Then Borel took Chelle’s hand and they stepped through the door and toward the welcoming hall beyond, and all the staff were waiting within to greet them, and when the prince and his lady stepped in, they gave a great and prolonged cheer and much applause.

Over the next fortnight and three days, Winterwood Manor was a hive of activity, for Lady Michelle needed a full wardrobe, not only for the Winterwood, but for the Springwood and Autumnwood and Summerwood as well, for the wedding in the Summerwood drew nigh, and surely afterward the lady and her prince would be visiting all the manors in turn. And so, all achatter and giddy with joy, for it seemed they had been waiting the whole of their lives for such an opportunity, the seamstresses of Winterwood Manor measured the lady herself, noting the hue of her skin, the color of her eyes, the cast of her hair, her slimness, the gauge of her bosom and waist and hips, and the lengths of feet and hands and forearms and upper arms and thighs and lower legs. And wasn’t she just perfect? And she a duke’s daughter, no less. A splendid match for handsome Prince Borel. On that they did agree.

When all was said, they had every measurement they could possibly have made, and Chelle not only felt treasured and admired, but by the same token she also felt like a prized piece of livestock.

And then the seamstresses insisted that Lady Michelle help with the selection of cloths and threads and sequins and beads and ribbons and other such… and jewellery, oh, the jewellery. The sapphires so well suited her eyes, golden beryl her hair, moonstones her skin, pink pearls, too. Emerald, amethyst, malachite, peridot, sunstone, diamond-why, it seemed there wasn’t a jewel or gem in all creation that wouldn’t go with this fille.

And the cobbler came, and the hairdresser, and others too many to name, and they fussed over her and primped and groomed and spruced and trimmed and fitted.

On the other hand, Prince Borel’s days were given to the governance of his demesne, and he settled disputes awaiting his return, and arranged for shipments of food and other goods to a village hard hit by a blizzard. He pardoned a man wrongfully accused of stealing and slaughtering a neighbor’s cow, for the animal had been found half starved several miles away. He settled a dispute concerning the rights of two miners whose horizontal shafts had met somewhere in the midst of a broad tor as each dug along the same vein of ore starting from opposite ends.

And he and Arnot and the various commis went over book after book of accounts, each clerk in turn stepping forward with his ledger of tallies, Arnot and Borel certifying that the tots therein of grain and livestock and goods of other sorts were properly balanced.

“I don’t know why you have me do this, Arnot,” said Borel. “I have yet to find even a single thing out of order.”

“Nevertheless, my lord,” said Arnot, “should something happen to me, you will know how ’tis done.”

“But I already know how ’tis done, Arnot.”

“Still, my lord…”

They had had this discussion every year, and always did Borel yield to his steward’s wishes.

Every eve, Chelle, wearing a new dress and new shoes and stockings and linens, and adorned with different gems, dined with Borel, the prince also in finery. And afterward they vied at echecs or taroc or read to one another or danced to music played by members of the staff, other members making up the fours and eights and sixteens needed for a complete minuet or quadrille or reel.

Never had Winterwood Manor been so gay.

And in the depths of the nights, never had Winterwood Manor been so tender, so passionate, so loving, not only in the bed shared by Borel and Chelle, but in beds shared by others throughout the manse as well.

Some seventeen days after arriving at the Winterwood, again the mansion was abustle, for on the morrow the prince and his lady would leave for Summerwood Manor, the wedding of Prince Alain and Lady Camille now but twelve days hence.

Horses were gathered and the next morn were laden with what would be needed for the trek and for the gala, including much of Chelle’s completely new wardrobe, and many garments for the prince as well.

And they set out in a rade, horses in cavalcade, riders on some, goods on others, Wolves in escort, and off for the Summerwood they rode.

Sprites raced through planes of ice all along the route, and Borel did see the one who had aided him just two months, a fortnight, and three days past there at Hradian’s cote. And Borel saluted the tiny being, and it bounced in glee from ice-coated tree to frozen pool to icicles galore dangling down. And Borel and Chelle laughed at its antics as it played hide-and-seek with them.

It was a leisurely ride through the winter ’scape of the woodland, and only light snow fell in the midst of the first day, and none thereafter.