Dennis McKiernan - Once upon a dreadful time

Just on the opposite side, a battalion of Goblins joined them-Dunters all, it seems.

. .

And so the army marched, as did the throng, and each took on new recruits as across the realms they went. But as to Orbane, nought but barren soil was left along the wide, wide track of the dreadful pall.

. .

Under the hollow hills, at last Auberon pronounced all was ready, and Regar was given a fine horse and glittering armor, as well as a new bronze sword and a long-knife and a long lance pointed on both ends. But he kept his own bow and quiver, though the Fey Lord filled it with arrows he said would not miss.

And the Fairy army-three thousand strong-rode up and out from the mounds, with arms and armor flashing in the sunlight of early morn and small silver bells ringing ajingle upon the caparisons of magnificent, prancing steeds.

And then did Flic and Fleurette and Buzzer join Regar, and Flic said, “Oh, my prince, we thought you trapped, thought that you had eaten food or taken drink and would be caught for a millennia or more.”

Regar looked at them in puzzlement. “Thought me trapped?

I was under the hill for but a mere day.”

“No, my lord,” said Fleurette, “you have been under the mound for nearly two moons altogether.”

“Two moons?”

“Just two days shy.”

Alarmed, Regar turned to Auberon. “We must ride, my lord, else we will be too late.”

Auberon lifted his silver horn and sounded a long cry. And the Fairy horses leapt forward, Auberon leading the way.

Some seven thousand strong the allies now marched, for they had collected additional warbands along the way. And as they tramped toward a distant goal, “Look ahead, my lord,” said Leon to Luc.

“I see it,” said the prince, “and surely so has Sieur Emile.” To the fore stood a craggy mountain range, and the Sprites led the army toward a gap in the chain.

“It seems quite narrow,” said Leon.

“We are yet at a distance, Leon, and no doubt it will be wider when we get there.”

Leon barked a laugh, even as he nodded in agreement.

They rode onward, and shortly there came a page to summon them to Emile’s side. Forward they spurred, and soon they reached the vanguard, and within a quarter candlemark all the commanders had arrived.

“Should it be a suitable lieu, I deem we can make a stand in yon slot,” said Emile, raising his voice so that all could hear.

“If we do so, my lord,” said Captain Valodet, a newcomer and commander of four hundred horse, “we might not be able to flank them.”

“Oui, Captain, we might not. Yet on the other hand, they might not be able to flank us either.”

“My lord,” said Petain, “the Sprites report that Orbane’s forces gain enormous strength as they march. Their numbers increase seemingly without bound.”

Roel said, “Then mayhap that’s all the more reason for us to make a stand in a narrow lieu where they cannot bring those numbers to bear.”

Luc nodded in agreement with Roel. “ ’Tis the best way for dealing with great numbers, yet what of the Sickness? How will we contend with that?”

Emile sighed and said, “The Sprites tell us that the throng marches out before the contamination, and so I deem we can do battle until the corruption comes upon us.” He looked about and said, “It is not the way I would want it, yet it is the best we can do.”

“Mayhap the Firsts can deal with it, as well as with Orbane,” said Laurent.

Blaise shook his head. “If I understand what went before in the war with Orbane, the Firsts could not do more than delay him. And, given Lady Lot’s rede, I think that making a stand in the slot is not the last gasp, not the final day.” Laurent growled. “Why do we depend upon the words of a soothsayer?”

“My boy,” said Sieur Emile, “she is not a mere soothsayer.

Lady Lot, Lady Verdandi, she is one of the Fates.” A silence fell among them as on toward the gap they fared, but then Michelle said, “It is the last quatrain that seems to provide some clue, yet what it might mean escapes my grasp.”

“Refresh my memory,” said Emile.

Michelle nodded and intoned:

“Summon them not ere the final day

For his limit to be found.

Great is his power all order to slay, Yet even his might has a bound.”

As Michelle fell silent, Luc said, “ ‘All order to slay,’ might that not refer to the corruption of the River of Time, mayhap throwing all things into chaos?”

“I think you have it,” said Blaise.

They rode a bit farther, and Blaise added, “It seems to me that when the Firsts come to the battle at last, then the limit of Orbane’s power will be reached.”

“And. .?” asked Laurent.

Blaise looked at his older brother. “ ‘And,’ you ask? Laurent, I do not know what will take place when he reaches the limit of his power. Yet this I do know: whatever it is that might happen, Lady Lot says we need it to occur.”

They rode onward, for long moments, and finally Sieur Emile said, “Since none has come up with a better plan, tell all your warriors this: if the gap is suitable for making a stand, we shall do so. And if the pollution comes upon us, then will we make our retreat.”

“What of our deployment?” asked Bailen.

Emile said, “Orbane is a day behind us. Hence, let us first look at the ground in the gap ere we make our plans.”

. .

The following day the skies grew black, lightning and thunder raging overhead. Even so, no rain fell, nor did the darkness bring cooling air with it.

“They will not be far behind,” said Blaise, sitting on a rock and sharpening his blade.

“Non, they will not,” said Luc, adjusting the tack on Deadly Nightshade, his well-trained horse of war.

A candlemark passed, and a horn sounded to the fore.

“They are sighted,” said Laurent.

“Indeed,” said Roel, buckling on Coeur d’Acier.

They mounted up, did these four knights, did these four horsemen-deadly in their power-on mounts white and roan and black and grey. And they rode up a small slope toward the opening of the gap, for with Leon’s chevaliers following, they would be the first to meet the foe after the archers were done.

Up to the crest of the rise they went, and there they stopped.

And they watched as across the plain below came Orbane’s throng, the putrescence following after.

“Oh, Mithras,” said Blaise, “there must be sixty, seventy thousand of them.”

“More like ninety,” said Leon, riding up alongside.

“They’ll funnel down when they get to this gap,” said Luc,

“and we can deal with-what? — two or three thousand at a time?”

Emile, who had joined them, looked at the width of the pass.

“I think even less; mayhap half that.”

“Even so,” said Luc, “with their numbers, they can afford for ten to fall for every one of us.”

“Then mayhap you can use some help,” sounded a familiar voice amid a jingle of silver bells.

Luc turned to see Prince Regar stop alongside, and downslope behind him came the Fairy army, Auberon in the lead.

Under roiling black skies streaked with lightning and reverberating with thunder, Auberon looked down at the oncoming throng and then beyond to the bilious cloud that followed, and he sucked air in between clenched teeth. “He has raised the Sickness .”

Both Flic and Fleurette, sitting upon Regar’s tricorn, gasped in alarm. Buzzer was quite asleep between them, under the dark skies.

“Oui, my lord,” said Emile.

“Sickness? What is this so-called ‘sickness’?” asked Regar.

“Is it that low-lying yellow-green cloud I see?”