Once Upon a Summer Day Read Free Page A

not enough to guide you.”
    Again they fell into silence, but then Alain said, “Let us consult Camille and see what she has to—”
    Chirping, a black-throated sparrow flew into the room, and three slender demoiselles followed: auburn-haired, amber-eyed Liaze in the lead; golden-haired, blue-eyed Camille next; pale-blond, green-eyed Céleste coming last.
    Even as Borel and Alain stood, and the wee bird settled on Alain’s shoulder, “Aha!” said Liaze. “We thought we might find you two hiding here. But, sit! Sit! We’ve come to ask about—Why, Borel, you look positively morose on this gloomy day.”
    Camille gave Alain a light kiss on the cheek, and then looked at Borel and asked, “Why so glum, Brother-to-be?”
    “I’ve had a vision,” said Borel.
    “Or a dream,” said Alain.
    Borel nodded. “Or a dream.”
    “Oh, my, Frère,” said Céleste, her face growing somber. She pointed at the large round game table with chairs all about and taroc cards strewn on its surface. “Let us sit, and then do tell us of this dream or vision of yours.”
    As soon as all had settled, Borel related his vision to them, and when he had come to the end, he once again stated that it might have just been a dream.
    Liaze shook her head. “Oh, no, Borel. I think it must have been a visitation, for if it were a mere rêve or songe, then it would not bother you so.”
    “She spoke in the Old Tongue?” asked Céleste.
    Borel nodded. “ ‘Aidez-moi,’ she said—‘Help me’—and no more. Yet how can I do so when I know not where she is?”
    In that moment the sparrow chirped and flew down to the table and pecked at one of the cards.
    “Mayhap Scruff has the right of it,” said Camille, pointing at the bird.
    “What do you mean?” asked Borel, as Céleste reached out and began drawing all the taroc cards to her, and Scruff flew across the room to the échecs table where he had first found the two men.
    “Just this,” said Camille. “Could we read the taroc, perhaps it has a clue as to what to do.”
    “Ah, but we are not seers, hence cannot read the cards,” said Céleste, as she gathered the last of the deck and began shuffling.
    Camille frowned and said, “Lisane can.”
    “Oui,” said Borel. “The Lady of the Bower. Even so, aren’t her messages rather vague, hard to interpret until after the fact?”
    Camille nodded. “It was only in hindsight that I understood.”
    “Then,” said Borel, “I think she cannot help, for if it is a true vision, then the lady in the stone tower needs help now.”
    “Perhaps so, Borel,” said Liaze. “Yet there is nought you can do until you know more.”
    “Are you telling me to go about my business and forget the vision?” asked Borel.
    Liaze shook her head. “Borel, I think you must follow your heart. Even so, I deem that until you have more knowledge, there is little you can do . . . unless you happen upon someone who knows of a blindfolded lady in a stone tower surrounded by daggers.”
    A quietness fell in the chamber, and only Scruff across the room and scrabbling among the échecs pieces interrupted the still. Finally Camille said, “Perhaps she’ll send you another vision.”
    As Borel nodded glumly, somewhere in the distance a bell rang.
    “Dinner,” said Alain, standing.
    Céleste set the deck aside and stood as well, as did they all, and started out. Borel paused a moment and cut the cards and looked at the one turned up. It was the Tower, lightning striking the top, men plummeting down among the shattered and plunging stone. Borel sighed and shook his head and replaced the card and then joined the others.
    Camille took Alain’s arm, and Liaze and Céleste, one on each side, took Borel’s, and they all trooped out, and none noticed the board on which the wee sparrow had been scratching and pecking away at the pieces: nearly all were gathered in the center and lying on their sides: spearmen, warriors, hierophants, kings and one queen. On the other hand,