Once Upon an Autumn Eve fs-3 Page 3

  Liaze shook her head. “We’ll just have to wait until he regains consciousness.”

  “On the morrow,” said Margeaux. “I think I can safely say that by then he will be awake.”

  Liaze sighed and nodded and said, “Come, Zoe, I believe I’ll have that bath after all.”

  Not bothering to clutch the cloak tight, with wide strides the princess headed for her chambers, Zoe running ahead. Behind, Remy finally sheathed his dagger and then set out to canvass the various guard stations, while Zacharie went to the stables to see what the chevalier had borne upon his midnight-dark horse.

  4

  Reflections

  As she luxuriated in the warm water, Liaze’s thoughts kept spinning back to the knight and his dark, dark eyes of blue and his black hair and what he had said: “Mon ange. Mon bel ange.”

  Why did he affect me so? It’s not as if I haven’t had liaisons with men ere now-there was Duc Laurent, and Comte Benoit, and the Baronet Yves, but he was just a fling when I discovered the comte was after Autumnwood and not my heart-yet none of them thrilled me to the core with nought but a glance as did this wounded man in the infirmary. But why? He said only five words in all: “Mon ange. Mon bel ange.”

  Liaze’s heart echoed and reechoed with those five words- “Mon ange. Mon bel ange” — and whenever she closed her own amber eyes, she saw his of indigo.

  Snap out of it, Liaze! He is a stranger and you know nothing of him. He could be nought but a poor hedge knight, yet would that make any difference? Josette, though, said his clothing is of luxurious cloth and sewn with a fine hand. She thinks he comes from wealth, but he could have won them in a tournament. Ah me, he could be a terrible bore, a selfish pig. A fortune hunter, as was the comte. Still, I hope not, for I would- Liaze veered away from those thoughts.

  “Mon ange. Mon bel ange.”

  Handsome he is and tall and slender, though but for a brief moment, I’ve only seen him lying down.-Oh, I do hope he is taller than my own height, for-Ah, Liaze, already you are spinning dreams. Still, he seemed tall when I saw him upon his steed, though he was falling off even as he came into sight. Yet he nigh filled the infirmary bed from headboard to foot. I wonder how he would look in my own bed-Now stop it, Liaze! You are giving to him in your day-dreams that which you might not in truth. After all, what do you know of him? Nothing, that’s what. Still, he must be a mighty fighter-broken sword and all. And he is sturdy, for Margaux said he had taken a terrible beating, but he managed to stay on his steed… for a while, at least. And he-Oh, I remember now. He had a silver horn on a baldric at his side. He was the one who sounded the alert. A noble deed, that… or was it a cry for aid? Ah, but “Here is your wine, my lady,” said Zoe, stepping into the bathing chamber. “Oh, my, you’ve put out the lamp and lit the scented candles. How nice.” She held out the goblet of dark red wine to Liaze.

  Liaze sighed and reached up for the drink and took a sip and then set it on the edge of the bronze tub.

  Zoe, humming to herself, went about fluffing towels and draped one over the fireguard to warm it for the princess. Then she whirled around and danced about and laughed. Of a sudden she sobered, and looked at the princess and said, “Did I not tell you that one day the right man would come along and-”

  “Zoe, Zoe, we know nothing of him.”

  “My lady, recall: I said that this might be the day, and he is so handsome and tall and strong in spite of being slender, and-”

  “Zoe, again I say, we know nothing of him.”

  “Ah, Princess, I saw how he made you blush. And his words were so romantic: ‘My angel,’ he said. ‘My beautiful angel.’ What could be more fitting?” Zoe sighed, and her eyes lost focus, as if she were captured in a reve. But then she started and exclaimed, “Oh, my, I just had a thought. At the pool. He must have seen you naked. Did he? Did he?”

  “He had already swooned,” said Liaze, taking up her glass and peering into the depths.

  Zoe giggled and clasped her hands together. “Oh, I think not, my lady, for you are blushing again.”

  Liaze swirled her wine and smiled unto herself, then said, “After he had fallen from his horse, when I went to him in the moonlight he opened his eyes long enough to look at me, but only my face. Then he swooned.”

  “He said nothing?”

  “Just one word,” said Liaze. “Ange.”

  “Angel!” squealed Zoe, clapping her hands. “I knew it!”

  “I repeat, he only saw my face.”

  “Ah, but non, I think not, for men are sneaky in the way they look at us and manage to see more than they let on.”

  Liaze sipped her wine. I think this one would look frankly and openly at anyone or anything that interested him. Liaze did not say so to Zoe, for that would attribute to the knight something that she knew not. Thrusting my own ways upon him.

  Zoe smiled, and then, all handmaiden business, she held out a washcloth and a bar of lavender-scented soap. “Cook says the meal will be ready within a candlemark.”

  The princess tossed down the last of her wine and traded her glass for the cloth and soap.

  Just after dawn the next morn, Liaze, wearing her hunting leathers, saddled her horse, Stablemaster Eugene standing by.

  An outer door opened, and Zacharie entered. “The falcons have flown with their messages, my lady.”

  “Well and good,” said Liaze. “Let us hope when they return they do not bear ill tidings.” She glanced across at the chevalier’s black horse, the stallion’s attention on Liaze’s mare. “Zacharie, are you certain there was nought in our mysterious knight’s baggage to identify him?”

  “Non, my lady,” replied the steward. He looked at Eugene. “And we searched most thoroughly.”

  Eugene nodded in agreement and said, “Though his steed put up a ruckus last night, still he is a noble one, and the trappings are of worth. Perhaps the knight is highborn.”

  Liaze cinched the girth and said, “Unless the blow to his head has removed his memory, when he wakens we shall know.” As she took up a saddle quiver filled with arrows and tied it to the forebow, Liaze frowned and glanced at the black and said, “Put up a ruckus, you say? Why so?”

  Eugene shrugged. “Something disturbed him, I would say, though I cannot say what. Got the other horses in a rumpus, too. By the time I arrived, they’d begun calming down. Whatever it was, a badger or some such, it was gone.”

  “When was this?” asked Liaze.

  “Just before Zacharie and I went through the knight’s goods; searching for his identity, we were,” said the stable master.

  “My lady, mayhap it was one of the Goblins,” said Zacharie.

  “If so, it’s no longer about,” said Liaze, taking up her horn bow.

  “Even so, my lady,” said the steward, fretting, “I would rather you let Remy and the men make certain that the woods are clear of-”

  “Non, Zacharie,” said Liaze, stringing the weapon. “I would see for myself these raiders.” She tested the pull and said, “Besides, it will hearten the staff to see that I go unafraid.”

  As she slipped the bow into the saddle scabbard Zacharie sighed and nodded in acceptance, for Liaze had always been headstrong, even as a child. Still, he had to admit, her instincts were true, and she was more than capable.

  Liaze then mounted up and rode out from the stables and ’round the manor and across the lawn to where stood Remy and the warband.

  “My lady, with you on a horse,” said Remy, the rangy man’s face twisted in alarm, “you are an obvious target. I suggest that you dismount and-”

  “Non, Remy. Rather would I let the staff see me astride than down among a protecting ward.”

  “As you will, Princess,” said Remy, though he shook his head. Then he gestured to the men, and, armed with crossbows and blades and armored in boiled-leather breastplates, they spread out to the fore and flank and aft, and toward the willows they all went, Liaze high in the saddle midst all.

  And since all eyes were fixed on the
Princess, none saw the crow winging away in the morn, going who knows where.

  Slain Goblins-Redcaps all-lay strewn across the far reaches of the lawn, and at the edge of the grove lay a dead Troll, pierced through by a large crossbow bolt.

  Within the willow grove and nigh the pool lay the Goblin Liaze had slain. On beyond, here and there they found a few more Goblins amid the forest trees. “These are the ones we slew as they fled,” said Remy.

  Farther on still, they came upon a scene of slaughter-nine Goblins in all.

  “As you said last night, Princess, this must be the work of our lone chevalier,” said Remy, “for there is but a single horse track.”

  Liaze dismounted and studied the ground. “From the tracks, it seems he was surrounded.-Ah, look, there is the other half of his sword.” Liaze pointed at the fragment of blade embedded in the bark of an oak. At hand lay the beheaded corpse of a Goblin among the roots below. The head itself was not evident.

  “Ah,” said Remy, looking at the hoof marks. “His horse was running, and he swung so hard that he sheared through the Redcap’s neck and struck the bole, and that’s what broke his blade.”

  Liaze nodded, then said, “I would follow the tracks back along his trail, perhaps to see whence he came.”

  “As you wish, my lady,” said Remy.

  For much of the morning they followed the path of the knight’s steed, twisting and turning back along the way the knight had ridden. Now and again they found the hacked remains of a Redcap.

  “He was pursued a goodly distance,” said Remy, “for with all the jinks this way and that and riding up and down streams, surely he was trying to lose them.”

  Liaze nodded. “It does not look as if he rode in from either the Winterwood or Summerwood, for generally his trail comes from the sunward bound of the Autumnwood. Still, as you say, it appears he was trying to lose his pursuers, and so could have come from virtually anywhere.”

  Liaze sighed and looked about, then said, “Enough, Remy. Let us return to the manor. Of those corpses deep in the woods leave them for the scavengers to find, though I would have a hierophant come and lay their spirits to rest, for I would not have my demesne haunted. As to the ones nigh the manor, burn them.”

  “As you will, my lady,” said Remy. He turned to one of the men. “Gregorie, blaze a trail for the hierophant to follow.”

  Gregorie nodded and took a hand axe from his belt and notched the bark of a nearby tree, and as they all headed back along the route they had come, he continued to mark the way.

  Even as Liaze rode into the stables and attendants took hold of her steed, Zoe came rushing out, crying, “My lady! My lady! He’s awake, and oh my!”

  5

  Transformation

  “Oh my?” asked Liaze as she and Zoe strode toward the manor, the princess bearing her unstrung bow and the arrow-filled quiver. her

  “What?” asked Zoe.

  “You said, ‘He’s awake, and oh my.’ ”

  “Oh, that. All I meant is that he is witty and charming and more handsome than ever. Why, he even has Tutrice Martine giggling like a jeune fille. ”

  “Has he a name?”

  “If he said it, Princess, I was not present at the time.”

  “Has he said why he was in the Autumnwood, or ought about the Goblins?”

  Zoe shook her head. “Non. Zacharie is waiting for you before asking.”

  “Where?”

  “They are in the blue room, my lady.”

  “Then run and fetch Remy, for I would have him present when the chevalier tells his tale.”

  As Zoe hied away, Liaze strode on and found herself wondering what she should wear to meet the man who had called her his angel.

  Liaze took a quick bath and chose a flowing russet dress with a yellow bodice, russet laces crisscrossing, the yellow so faint as to seem nearly white. She wore a light yellow, ruffle-trimmed pettiskirt beneath. Russet silken slippers shod her yellow-stockinged feet and peeked from under the hem. Zoe combed out the princess’s long auburn tresses, and upon her head she placed a circlet of gold, inset with a yellow diamond.

  “Now for the earrings, my lady,” said Zoe, “do you prefer the-”

  “Zoe, it’s not as if I am trying to impress this fellow, you know.”

  “Oh, aren’t you?” said Zoe, feigning innocence.

  “In fact, I think this circlet is too ostentatious,” said Liaze, removing the golden ring.

  “Oh, but my lady, you are a princess and must wear something denoting such. It’s your station, you know. Besides, it will draw his eyes to your face and hair and-”

  Zoe took up another circlet, this one twined ’round with small yellow ivy leaves, with russet and yellow ribbons falling down the back.

  “Zoe! That’s for the harvest dance.”

  Zoe groaned in frustration, then said, “Well, what about a ribbon or two twined through your locks?”

  Liaze sighed and glanced in the mirror and said, “Oh, very well.”

  In moments Zoe had fixed pale yellow ribbons among Liaze’s auburn tresses in such a way as to not bind the hair but let it flow gracefully-the ribbons flowing gracefully as well-with every movement of the princess.

  Liaze stood and turned before the mirror, the dress belling out from her slim waist and down over slender hips to hang in elegant folds. Her breasts were high, pushed up by the bodice, though not immodestly so.

  Zoe stepped back and eyed the result. “Oh, my lady, you are beautiful beyond compare.”

  Liaze smiled unto herself, for she, too, was pleased.

  “Princess, a necklace would-”

  Liaze shook her head. “No, no more jewelry, other than this.” She held up her right hand, her ring finger graced by a wide gold band, with a ruby carved in the shape of a maple leaf and inset in a heavy golden collet, tiny sculpted heads of grain circling ’round.

  She glanced at herself once more in the mirror, then said, “Now to the blue room to hear what this knight has to say.”

  Liaze stepped to the door and out, Zoe trailing after. “Am I to go with you, my lady?”

  “Yes, but only to usher away any company that might be hanging about. I think the chevalier would feel more comfortable telling his tale to just Zacharie, Remy, and me, rather than among a giggling and sighing bevy of women.”

  “Last I saw, my lady, only Tutrice Martine, Healer Margaux, and Aurelie were there, though several others had been with him earlier. But for Aurelie, Margaux shooed the gaggle out, yet Martine wouldn’t go.”

  “If necessary, I’ll deal with Martine,” said Liaze.

  Down one of the two staircases in the welcoming hall they stepped, and turned rightward at the bottom, for the blue room was in a wing opposite from the infirmary.

  Past members of the staff they went, men bowing, women curtseying, all looking after Liaze as she swept by, for they were used to seeing her in leathers or work clothes, and only on special occasions did she dress as a princess should-or so many of them opined.

  Whispers followed her along the corridor:

  Oh, my.

  Stunning.

  Belle.

  They came to the door of the blue room, and Liaze paused a moment and glanced at her reflection in the pane of an outer window. Then she stepped within.

  Zacharie leapt to his feet, as did Remy. Margaux, Aurelie, and Tutrice Martine stood as well. In a chair facing the doorway sat the black-haired young man, and his deep-blue eyes flew wide at the sight of her and he blurted, “I thought you but a dream.”

  6

  Luc

  Even as Liaze blushed, and behind her Zoe gave a joyful laugh, the knight got to his feet, somewhat gingerly and wincing a bit, and bowed along with Zacharie and Remy. Martine, Aurelie, and Margaux curtseyed, Aurelie and Margaux smiling broadly, Martine with a neutral look upon her matronly features.

  Liaze acknowledged them all with a nod as she came into the room, a room with pale blue walls and heavily padded blue velvet chairs trimmed i
n white and arranged for conversation nigh a large fireplace. Against one wall stood a black oak sideboard. On another wall a black oak escritoire sat open, with quills and parchment and an inkwell at hand, as well as a few books on the shelf above, and an armless blue velvet chair waiting for someone to sit and take pen in hand and write.

  As Liaze stepped in among the gathering, Zacharie said, “Princess Liaze, may I present Sieur Luc, knight-errant. Chevalier Luc, Princess Liaze of the Autumnwood.”

  Dressed in black boots and a black silken shirt open at the neck and black trews held by a silver-buckled black belt, Luc stepped forward and again bowed, once more wincing a bit, stray locks of his shoulder-length ebon hair falling down ’round his face, though the bandage on his forehead and wrapped about held most of it back. Liaze extended her right hand, and Luc took it in his and kissed her fingers. When he straightened up-not quite a head taller than she-he looked down into her amber eyes with his of indigo blue, and a thrill shot through Liaze and she almost did not hear him say, “Princess, I truly did think you but a wishful dream, and I am so happy to find that you are quite real. But here I must correct an assumption: I am not a knight, though someday I hope to win my spurs.”

  Both Remy and Zacharie seemed taken aback, but Liaze said, “Pfah! Given what you have done for my demesne, a knight you surely are.”

  “But, my lady-”

  “Remy, your sword,” said Liaze, holding out her hand.

  Remy placed the rapier in Liaze’s hand.

  “Kneel, Luc,” said Liaze.

  Wincing and with Zacharie’s help, Luc managed to get down on one knee, and Liaze touched him on each shoulder with the tip of the blade, saying, “I, Princess Liaze of the Autumnwood, by my right of sovereignty declare you a chevalier. You may have knelt as a warrior, but now rise up, Sieur Luc, as a Knight of the Autumnwood.”

  As Zacharie aided the man to his feet, “Please, Sir Luc, sit,” said Liaze, glancing at Margaux the healer and then again at the knight. “I would not have you stand any more on ceremony, as battered as you must be.”