Once Upon a Summer Day by Dennis L. McKiernan Read Free Book Online Page B

you.”
    “Non, Arnot,” said Borel, taking his long-knife from Jules and belting it on and strapping it to his right thigh. “I would not put you or them in peril.”
    “Then, my lord, I suggest you swing wide of her cottage,” said Jules.
    Borel shook his head. “My sire asked me to find out if the witch yet dwells in her cote; you see, after Alain’s wedding, then will we raise a warband and run her down.”
    “But, my lord,” said Gerard, the valet’s voice tight with stress, “you needn’t go nigh; we can send the Sprites to see if she yet resides therein.”
    “Non, Gerard. The Sprites avoid the cursed section entirely; they fear to go near. And Hradian’s cottage lies on the far bound. Instead, I must go.”
    “Ah, this is a scouting mission then?” said Jules.
    “Indeed,” replied Borel, turning aside to take up his quiver, hence his gaze did not meet that of his armsmaster nor his steward nor his loyal valet.
    “When do you plan on returning, Lord Borel?” asked Arnot.
    “Before Alain and Camille’s wedding three months hence,” replied Borel, slipping the quiver baldric over his head and across one shoulder.
    “My lord?”
    “If Vadun interprets my dream and it is true, I have but a moon—nay, a day less than a moon—ere the lady must face her peril. At a minimum—twenty-eight days hence—I intend to be with her when that occurs, and I know not how far away lies this stone chamber surrounded by daggers dire. And so, if it takes the full of that time to reach her, and a like amount returning, then I should be back in two moons, well before Alain and Camille’s wedding. Yet I hope that I can find her ere the whole of this moon has passed, for I would spirit her safely away with days to spare.”
    Jules handed the bow to the prince and stood back and examined him, then grunted in satisfaction. The prince seemed ready. But then the armsmaster frowned and said, “My lord, concerning this dream or sending—the daggers may merely be symbolic as to the threat she faces. They could represent an army besieging a palace, or other such encircling hazard. If that is true, you may need a warband or even an army to meet the peril beleaguering this damsel. If so, what then, Prince Borel?”
    “I am hoping Vadun can tell me what is needed.”
    Borel took up his rucksack and stepped from the armory, the three men following. They passed down long corridors to come to the welcoming hall, and thence unto the main entrance and out into the courtyard. And there awaited Borel’s Wolves, yipping and yammering and milling about, for they had sensed that another run lay ahead. How they knew the prince would be leaving this day, none could fathom, yet sense it they had, and they were eagerly waiting.
    Prince Borel shouldered his rucksack and adjusted the straps to keep it from interfering with the quiver, then he slung his bow by its carrying thong and, with a final adieu to the trio, he set out across the courtyard at the Wolfpace he could sustain all day.
    Shivering with the cold, Arnot, Jules, and Gerard watched until the prince passed over the flat and started down the slope beyond, and then with sighs they turned and stepped back into the warm and comfortable halls of Winterwood Manor.

    All that day Borel and the pack trotted through the snow and ice, with gleeful Sprites flashing from ice-clad tree to ice-coated rock to the ice of a frozen mere or pond or lake, or of tributaries, be they rivulets, brooks, streams, or rivers. At some of these places, scattering the Sprites wide, Borel and the Wolves would pause and quench their thirst, but mostly they merely passed over the ice and continued on through the snow-laden land.
    They rested for a while as the sun passed through the zenith, and then they continued on. And as they ran, the Ice-Sprites coursed with them. Yet toward midafternoon the number of Sprites dwindled and dwindled, until there was but one yet in their company, for they were nearing the