Dennis McKiernan: Once Upon an Autumn Eve

Liaze spoke to the Ghillie Dhu, and Sprites winged ’round and asked about the witch and the crows, and they cheered the news of Iniqui’s demise. And they flew ahead to alert the staff of Autumnwood Manor that the princess had returned, and she had her truelove at her side, along with a retinue of men.

And onward through the scarlet and gold and russet woodland rode Liaze and Luc and the escort, wee folk darting alongside, tree runners overhead, unseen things scurrying in the underbrush, all accompanying their liege. And the men of the retinue looked about in wonder at these happy and grinning fey folk, and smiled great smiles in return.

The entire household of the mansion stood on the lawn waiting for Liaze and Luc and their escort to come riding out from the brightly hued forest. There as well stood King Valeray and Queen Saissa, for they had come the previous day on their annual rade. Too, Borel and Michelle and a pack of Wolves waited, for they had returned from Roulan Vale and had stopped at the manor on their way to the Winterwood.

And a great shout of Hoorah greeted the princess and the men as they emerged at last from the trees. And, unable to contain themselves, the gathering rushed forward to greet Liaze and Luc and the others, Zoe squealing in delight and leading the charge, with her dress hiked up to run, Remy and Zacharie more dignified, yet not far behind. And the household surrounded the princess and her truelove, and they called out questions, voices babbling over one another.

Finally, Liaze, yet mounted upon Pied Agile, raised her hands and quiet fell. And she smiled down at her sire and dam and said, “King Valeray, Queen Saissa, I present my betrothed”-Liaze turned and smiled at her beloved-“Comte Luc du Chateau Bleu dans le Lac de la Rose et Gardien de la Cle.”

Among the crowd, Tutrice Martine gasped and fainted dead away.

That evening there was a grand ball, attended by a king and a queen, a prince and a princess, a comte and the daughter of a duke, as well as the staff entire of the Autumnwood, serving by turns as was the custom at such gatherings.

During a lull in the dancing, Valeray said to Luc, “I knew Amaury, your sire, Luc. He was a fine man, and he aided in the imprisonment of Orbane. He was also a splendid warrior, and a fitting man to be the Keeper of the Key. Guard it well, Luc, for if it comes to either Hradian or Nefasi gaining hold of it, then all of Faery will lie in peril.”

“You know of the key, Father?” asked Liaze.

“Indeed,” said Valeray.

“Hmm… would that I had known,” said Liaze. “Mayhap I would have been better prepared for what was to come, mayhap even prepared for Iniqui.”

“I am so glad she is dead,” said Saissa, glancing at Borel and Michelle across the ballroom, talking to the musicians. “It leaves but two of that dreadful sisterhood, two of Orbane’s acolytes, sorcerous witches who would do harm to my brood.”

“Speaking of the brood, Mother,” said Liaze, “where are Celeste and Alain and his Camille?”

“Oh, perhaps wishing they were here,” said Saissa, laughing.

Liaze smiled, and at that moment the music struck up again, and she was whirled out onto the dance floor by the handsome and dashing Luc.

A short while later, under a glitter of stars shimmering against a black night sky, on a balcony outside the chamber, Liaze reached up and took Luc’s face in her hands. “Kiss me, beloved, and I will kiss thee.”

And so they embraced and kissed most deeply, their passion flaring as bright as the wheeling skies above, there in the night, the star-spangled night, under the dark of the moon.

And thus ends this part of the tale that began eight moons and a fortnight and a sevenday past, when, upon an autumn eve, Princess Liaze of the Autumnwood went for a moonlight swim, and a wounded knight came crashing into her quiet willow grove.

Or perhaps this tale really began some years ere that, when a babe was born to a comtesse, and a twelvemonth after a vicomte decided to do away with the child.

Or perhaps this story began when a dreadful mage was locked in a dark castle from which there seemed to be no escape but by means of a special key.

Or perhaps this story began even farther back when a Keltoi bard spun a tale so enthralling that the gods decided to make it manifest.

Regardless as to when this story began, at heart it is a romance, wherein we find a lonely princess, a noble knight with a wicked stepfather, Goblins and Trolls and a dreadful witch, three Fates, a howling castle, a Brownie, a terrible Wild Hunt, a Pixie with a crowing rooster, and a black glass mountain, and much more, indeed much more, including Sprites and a Ghillie Dhu and Nixies and Satyrs and a Faun and Nymphs and mysterious twilight borders and things unseen and unnamed, some perilous, others not.

That might seem an overabundance of wonder, but that is the way of fairy tales, and the way of Faery as well.

— Oh, and as to the answer to Liaze’s last question, the one where she asked the whereabouts of Celeste and Alain and his Camille, the one where Saissa answered that they were probably wishing they were at the ball, well, Alain and Camille were reading poetry to one another in the great library of Summerwood Manor, but as to Celeste-the Princess of the Springwood-oh, my, she was… But wait, that is a different tale.