Dennis McKiernan - Once upon a dreadful time

Dark struck a single posture: Bitch.

Michelle replied with a chuff of understanding.

Again Dark struck a single posture: head low, tail down, eyes fixed straight ahead.

Michelle frowned, for the posture could mean “bad” or

“danger” or ‘’immediate threat” or any number of allied things, depending upon what came before or after. Nevertheless, with her heart sinking, she replied: Chuff.

Dark: Two-legs.

Michelle: Chuff.

Dark: Bird.

Michelle: Chuff.

Dark: Not-bird.

Michelle: Whine.

Michelle turned to Arnot. “They have told me they do not know where Borel is, and now are trying to tell me something having to do with a bird and peril and a female.” Arnot shrugged and then looked at the others standing nigh.

“Any suggestions?”

Men looked at one another, yet none had ought to say.

Michelle turned back to Dark and whined in puzzlement.

Dark: Not.

Michelle again frowned, for this could mean “no” or “not” or “stop” or the like, again depending on context. Michelle replied with a chuff.

Dark: Not-bird.

“Ah,” said Michelle, enlightened, followed by Chuff .

Dark raised her nose high.

Michelle sighed, for that posture could mean “air” or “wind” or “odor on the wind” or “scent” or other similarities. Chuff.

And then Dark struck many poses, putting it all together: Bird-not-bird danger bitch two-legs. Master gone. Bad wind.

With a cry of dismay, Michelle fell to her knees and buried her face in her hands and wept.

It was not yet midmorn when, in the skies above the manors of the Forests of the Seasons, falcons from Valeray’s domain announced their presence and spiralled down to the mews.

Waiting attendants detached message capsules and bolted away, while others fetched fresh mice for the raptors.

In the Springwood, Steward Vidal, his face somber, came onto the training grounds, where Roel looked over the arriving recruits. “My lord,” said Vidal, distress in his voice, “we have received terrible news.” He handed the message to the knight.

Roel frowned and read and blanched. Shaken, he turned to the captain of the houseguard. “Theon, I leave you in charge until Armsmaster Anton returns. See to the men.” And without another word he spun on his heel and ran toward the manor, Vidal following apace.

To his quarters hurried Roel, and therein he unracked his armor and-

“My lord,” asked Vidal, “what is it you plan to do?”

“Find Celeste and the others,” replied the knight.

“But you do not know where to search.”

“I will ride through all of Faery if necessary,” spat Roel.

. .

Some distance away in the Autumnwood Manor, Luc looked at tall and gaunt Zacharie. “It matters not, Steward, for no matter where Orbane has cast them with his black wind, I will find them.”

“But, my lord,” said Zacharie, “Faery is said to be an endless place, hence setting out with no knowledge whatsoever will lead to nothing at all.”

. .

In Summerwood Manor, Blaise glared at grey-haired Lanval.

“Then what do you suggest I do?”

“My lord, nearby is the Lady of the Mere, and she at times gives aid.”

“And just who is this Lady of the Mere?”

“A seer, my lord. A seer.”

. .

In the armory of Winterwood Manor Laurent set down his helm and looked at Michelle. “A seer?”

Michelle nodded. “Or so the Steward Arnot tells me.” Arnot inclined his head. “Vadun lives starwise from here, a day’s journey beyond the blight.”

“And he will be able to tell us where this black wind of Orbane’s has taken them?”

Arnot frowned. “He is a dream seer, hence might or might not be able to aid.”

Michelle said, “ ’Tis better than setting out and searching at random.”

. .

Roel sighed and reracked his armor. “You are right, Vidal. But where can we find a seer?”

“I know of four: the Lady of the Mere in the Summerwood; Seer Malgan in the Autumnwood; Vadun, a voyant de reves in the Winterwood; and Lisane, the Lady of the Bower, yet I am not certain where she lives.”

“And there is none in the Springwood?”

“None I know of.”

“Are there any in Valeray’s domain?”

Vidal shrugged and turned up his hands.

“Then we must send falcons to the other manors and bid them to seek out these seers and discover what they can of where Orbane has had our family borne off to.”

. .

“Ah, me,” said Luc, “my first impulse was to ride out and seek Liaze, yet it seems a hopeless cause without further knowledge. Send for Seer Malgan; mayhap he can give us aid. In the meanwhile, there is a war to plan, yet once my father takes command of the army-”

“But, my lord, will he not need you to lead the Autumnwood battalion?”

Luc sighed. “Truelove versus the good of the many, a terrible choice to make.”

. .

Blaise looked at Lanval. “Where do I find this Lady of the Mere?”

Lanval slowly shook his head. “She only appears at dawn, and she does not come at just anyone’s beck, and things must be quite dire, else she appears not.”

Blaise spread his arms wide and gestured about. “The king, queen, princes, and princesses ripped away on a black wind.

What is more dreadful than that?”

“Orbane,” replied Lanval gravely. “The wizard is a good deal more terrible, for he threatens all of Faery and not just King Valeray and Queen Saissa and their get and Princess Camille and wee Prince Duran.”

Blaise slammed a fist into palm. “Bloody Orbane!” He turned to the steward and said, “Oh, Lanval, ’tis the wont of knights to ride to the rescue, and yet for the moment I and my brothers and Prince Luc cannot. And even did we know where they were, still we are faced with an ill choice, for there is Orbane and his armies we must defeat.”

“My lord, I suggest you remain at the manor and see to the planning of the war. On morrow’s dawn I will go to the mere; mayhap she will come at my call.”

. .

Michelle gazed out a window slit at the snow. “With Orbane on the loose it means that Raseri and Rondalo did not succeed.” Arnot nodded and said, “Oui, my lady, they did not, yet mayhap they are still on the hunt. ’Tis another thing a seer might be able to answer.”

Michelle sighed. “Very well, then, Arnot, have Armsmaster Jules ride in haste to Vadun and pose him our questions. Mayhap in spite of the fact that this mage is a voyant de reves he can shed light on Raseri and Rondalo and on where Orbane’s black wind took my Borel and the others; to his Troll holes or the dungeons of one of his many castles, I imagine, and none knows where they all are. In the meanwhile, send messages to the remaining manors and have them also seek the aid of seers.”

“Oui, m’lady,” replied the steward.

When Arnot was gone, Michelle said, “And you, sieur knight, have a war to plan.”

“As you command,” said Laurent, and he, too, stepped away from the chamber.

Michelle looked long out through the slit at the black and white forest touched with subtle shades of grey. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned and strode from the armory.

Once Borel came to rescue me, and then his Wolves saved us both. It is time I returned the favor to my love, and once again the pack will aid.

Down the hall she trod, pausing long enough to take up a warm cloak. Then she stepped through a doorway and into the wintry ’scape beyond. At the edge of the woods she found the pack at rest, and she singled out Dark. Michelle struck postures and voiced growls Borel had said she might one day need: Michelle: I want learn all Wolfspeak.