Dennis McKiernan - Once upon a Spring morn

He frowned and looked toward the far woods.

Again sounded the horn, and bursting out from among the trees came a rider, a remount in tow. Across the sward galloped the stranger, and he wore the tabard of a king, but just which king it was-

“ ’Tis Avelar’s man,” said Valeray.

Once more sounded the horn, and up galloped the youth. He leapt from his steed and called, “A message from Vicomte Chevell.”

The lad strode forward, and his gaze swept over the gathering, for all their faces were turned toward him.

He then saw Giselle, her own face puffed and her eyes and nose red with weeping, and the youth frowned in puzzlement.

Now he saw Steward Vidal, as well as Armsmaster Anton, yet in spite of his instructions, he gave over the message to Prince Borel, whom he also recognized.

“We’re having a memorial here, son,” said Vidal quietly.

“Oh, my, I did not mean to interrupt,” replied Quint.

Just then there came a whoop from Borel. “She’s alive!” he cried, holding the letter aloft. “She and Roel did not drown after all, but landed on a ship instead!” What? cried some. Alive? cried others, but most shouted in glee.

“I’m going to wring her neck,” muttered Liaze, embracing Luc, tears of relief and joy running down her face.

Captive

Of a sudden the rope went slack, as if it had been snapped in two. Roel scrambled to his feet and drew in the line, only to find a frayed end. With his heart hammering in dread for Celeste, he disentangled himself and unsheathed Coeur d’Acier, and drawing the rope behind in case of need, he stepped through the ebon wall, wanting to run in haste, wanting to yell out her name, but moving carefully and silently instead.

Lighter grew the twilight, and then he was free of the bound. At his feet lay Celeste’s bow as well as a scatter of arrows.

And in the distance he saw. .

. . he saw. .

. . the back of a retreating, fur-draped Ogre, a being fully twenty-five or thirty feet tall and bearing Celeste over one shoulder.

“Celeste!” cried Roel, but she did not respond, and at the sound of the shout the Ogre sped up, now loping toward stony crags beyond.

“Celeste!” Roel cried again, but the princess lay limp, as if unconscious.

Knowing afoot he would never catch the Ogre, Roel slammed his sword into its scabbard and snatched up the bow and arrows and turned and sped back through the twilight. Quickly he ran to the horses and slipped the bow into Celeste’s saddle scabbard and the arrows into the saddle quiver, and using the retrieved line, he tethered her mount to his own pack animal. Then he leapt astride his horse and spurred forward, drawing the other steeds behind, and into the twilight he rode.

Darker it got and he passed through ebon, and then lighter it became, and he emerged from the twilight and into day. Ahead he looked, and left, and right, but the fur-clad Ogre and his prize had vanished.

Roel cantered forward, now scanning the ground for tracks, and he rode in a line toward where last he saw the monstrous being. Almost immediately he came upon great swaths of flattened grasses some eight or ten feet apart, there where the Ogre had stepped.

Following these dents, Roel spurred to a gallop, and soon the impressions came some fifteen or twenty feet apart, for Roel now rode along the track where the Ogre had been loping.

As he came in among the crags, Roel cocked and loaded his crossbow, and on into the rock-laden land fared the knight. Yet the ground was stony, and he had to slow to a walk, for he would not have any of the horses lamed.

And the easy tracks vanished, and now Roel had to follow traces where the Ogre’s feet had turned up rocks, leaving fresh hollows behind, or the dark of stones where they had long lain with one side unseen by the sun but now were flipped over and exposed.

In places he had to dismount and cast about for spoor. He found an impression here, and an overturned slab there, and a slip of sand yet faintly trickling down.

He was nigh in tears, and he cursed at the slowness of his progress, and his heart hammered in dread for his beloved, for the tales told that Ogres were man-eaters.

With his mind racing ’round all of the terrible things that might be visited upon her, Roel walked forward, his crossbow in hand, the horses plodding after.

And then he lost the track altogether.

Celeste came groggily awake as the Ogre reached into a stony crevice and pushed a great boulder in and aside to expose a cavern beyond. As she began regaining her full senses, she tried to get up from the ground and flee, but the moment she lurched to her feet, the monstrous being took her up, and on one hand and his knees, he crawled into a vast chamber beyond. He set her down and rolled the huge stone back into place.

Light leaked in ’round the edges of the boulder, but Celeste saw that the crevices were too small for her to squeeze through. The cavern itself was lit with a reddish glimmer from embers somewhere within. In the dull scarlet gloom, Celeste heard a striker scrape, and then the glow from a large lantern filled the place. A huge chair and table loomed up in the shadows nigh the center of the lit chamber. Against one stone wall stood an enormous bed, and thereon a monstrous straw mattress and a jumble of blankets lay awry. A massive chest rested at the foot of the bed. Some thirty or so feet out from the opposite wall of the cavern sat an open-pit fireplace, ruddy embers within, and in the stone ceiling high above a jagged crevice acted as a smoke hole. Nearby lay shattered tree limbs and broken logs of oak, birch, maple, cherry, walnut, and the like with which to feed the fire. Beyond lay a clutter of splintered bones from meals long past. Great copper pots and pans sat on an immense sideboard, along with huge utensils-knives, spoons, cleavers, and such. In midchamber a stone ring marked a wide well; a large bucket and a long rope testified to water below.

Celeste shook her head to dispel the dregs of her muzziness. The last thing she remembered was being snatched up by the heels just as she emerged from the twilight boundary, and there was a painful lump on the back of her skull, where it had hit the ground. She was sore ’round her waist, and there the rope was yet cinched. She discovered the line had been broken off short, with no more than ten feet remaining. The Ogre must have snapped the rope in two when he found I was tied to someone or something. Ah, when I was grabbed, Roel was yet- Roel! Is he-? Did the Ogre-?

The Ogre hung the lantern on a wall hook and then turned and leered down at her and rumbled, “Give up all hope, for your companion will not find you here.” My companion. That must mean Roel is yet safe.

Quickly, Celeste took stock. No bow, empty quiver, but wait, I yet have my long-knife; even so, what can such a small pick do against this monstrous foe. .?

She looked up at the huge creature. He was hairy and unkempt, and he had a beard that reached down to his belt. Some of his teeth were missing, and those that were left were stained a scummy green. His breath smelled rancid, and it was clear he hadn’t had a bath in months, if ever. “Why have you taken me hostage?” demanded Celeste.

“Hostage?” he boomed. “Ha! I want no hostage.”

“Has a witch anything to do with this?”

“Witch?” The Ogre’s eyes widened, and Celeste thought she caught a glimpse of fear within. “What have you to do with a witch?”

Celeste frowned. If he is a friend of Hradian, or Nefasi, then he might turn me over to one of them. But if he is a foe, then he might aid me. On the other hand, he might slay me outright just for knowing their names.

Mayhap I should remain silent as to the acolyte sisters.