Velda was ready and waiting when Treguard arose. Pickle however was late.
"It was how he got his nickname of course," Treguard said. "He was never very organised. I never knew his real name."
"I don't either." Treguard was surprised.
"You seemed very close. I assumed…"
"We are very close," Velda said carefully, "But such trust does not come easily to me." Treguard's code of honour prevented him asking her anything further on the matter but in any case at that moment Pickle arrived and they were able to set off.
The two elves walked ahead, treading confidently along an unseen path. Treguard, riding behind, had little to do but admire the forest as his horse instinctively followed the creatures of fay. Pickle was in his element relating tales to Velda of how some of the more foolish dungeoneers had met their end. Treguard found the journey very restful with only the sounds of the forest mingled with Pickle's chatter and Velda's laughter. It was only an hour's gentle riding from the elven village to the Abbey and they arrived at it's gates mid-morning.
"We shall wait here for you master." Treguard nodded. He had not expected the elves to accompany him onto consecrated ground. As he set off into the grounds, the two elves sat down to wait. Some minutes had passed when they heard the sound of someone approaching from the forest. They quickly made themselves invisible and watched to see who was coming.
A strange monk came into view. His head was so bowed and his cowl was so deep that they could not see his face. His step was slow but not, they sensed, with age. He stopped when only a few metres away. The elves felt uneasy but kept perfectly still. Then the monk chuckled.
"Well, my dear, I did not expect to see you again. Luck obviously sits with you." Velda paled at the voice, which sent a shiver down her spine, and she unconsciously grasped Pickle's arm.
"Seigneur des Mouches." she whispered. He raised his head and a pair of green eyes gleamed at them from beneath his hood. They were both still invisible yet he looked straight at them.
"To think, I only came here to disrupt the harmony of this trinity of man, elf, and monk. Now I get to claim you once and for all." As he'd said this he'd raised a hand to his face. They expected him to fling back his cowl but instead there was a sudden whirr of air and Velda gave a cry as something struck her shoulder. She instantly became visible and fell clasping her injury. Pickle instinctively became visible as well as he dropped to her side and sent up the alarm.
"Master!" he called. "Master!" The false monk laughed as he watched Pickle pull out the dart that had struck Velda. But Pickle sprung at him in a rage and the demon was momentarily taken aback. However, Pickle was no match for one such as Mephistopheles and it was only the timely arrival of Treguard that saved him. The creature had just flung the elf back when the Lord of Knightmare arrived. It took him but a second to register the scene: two fallen elves and a snarling monk. He ran at the creature with his sword Morpheus raised. But his momentary hesitation had given his enemy time to recover.
Before Treguard had crossed half the distance between them, a thick thorny bush sprang up and ensnared him. He struggled in vain but the branches were too thick for him to break with shear strength alone. If only he could angle his sword round.
"Well, well, Lord Treguard. It's been nigh on fifteen years but I trust you have not forgotten me."
"Unfortunately not, Gruagach. This seems to be my week for renewing old acquaintances." The Gruagach's eyes flashed to where Pickle had crawled over to Velda but he didn't give Treguard time to move.
"Indeed. But they shall not avail you now." He raised his arms to cast a final spell and was struck squarely in the head with a quarterstaff. It served only to anger him though and he spun on his unseen adversary.
"Dogsbottom!" his attacker cursed. But the distraction had given Treguard the time he needed and he brought his sword up with all his might. The Seigneur des Mouches spun back but Treguard was too fast. He impaled him on the point of his sword. A fork of lightning flashed down and the creature was engulfed in a fireball. Yet it had no heat and left no mark. A moment later all that remained was a smell of brimstone. The monk who had come to their aid looked to the sky. It was a clear day.
"What manner of fay was that?" he asked.
"The worst possible, Cedric." Treguard replied darkly. "But thanks to your help he is vanquished for the time being."
"Glad to be of service. If ever you need me or my quarterstaff again…"
"Master," Pickle interrupted, "Velda's wounded." Treguard went to her side and looked at the wound. More violet ectoplasm, elven life essence, was seeping into the air from the wound than he would have expected.
"It's nothing," she protested. "A mere scratch." She winced as she pushed herself upright. "Though it does sting a little." Treguard frowned. For Velda to confess to feeling pain meant it must hurt a lot.
"I don't like the look of it," he said. "We should get you back to the village." He turned to Cedric. "Can I rely on you to let Sir Edmund know that an evil sorcerer rather than the elves was responsible for the trouble at Blaye?"
"Certainly. I shall ride there at once."
Treguard quickly mounted up with Velda before him and hurried off with Pickle leading the way.
"Do you trust him?" Velda asked doubtfully.
"Who? Cedric? Certainly. I've known him as long as I've known you. Longer even than I've known Pickle. But surely you met him at Alvingham? He accompanied Sir Geoffrey into Anwin Wood in search of me."
"Indeed, I remember him. His language was hard to forget."
"I'll grant you he can be a little coarse at times but his heart is in the right place." Velda let the matter drop.
They returned as quickly as Pickle could lead them though Velda continued to protest she was fine. But by the time they reached the village her shoulder had become numb and she couldn't move her arm. They laid her in a healing chamber and Pickle fetched Taliesin.
He inspected the wound that was still seeping. Outside he spoke to Treguard and Pickle.
"There is sorcery at work here. None here have the power to counter it. It will require another sorcerer."
"There is a mage at Knightmare Castle who I consider an ally. He is not fond of your kind but I believe I could persuade him to help."
"It is a long way to travel. She may not have that time. I'd say she has two nights but certainly not three."
"I shall travel along the ley paths. That should halve our travel time." Taliesin looked back towards Velda uncertainly.
"We must try," Pickle implored. "She shall certainly die if we don't."
"Of course." Taliesin smiled gently at him. "I only tell you this to prepare you for the worst."
"We should leave at once." Treguard declared.
"Take some food first. It is but midday and if you eat now you shall be able to ride until dark." Treguard nodded.
"Pickle, go pack whatever belongings you and Velda shall require but pack light." Pickle hurried off to obey. Taliesin held Treguard back a moment longer.
"I sense I shall not see either Pickle or Velda here again." He held up a silencing hand. "I do not mean I sense the worst for Velda. But since they both arrived I've sensed they would not stay with us long. I have some slight gift of prophecy." He explained.
"But you cannot say whether Velda shall live or die?" Taliesin shook his head sadly.
"I expect that once at Dunshelm they shall chose to remain with you rather than return. Reassure them that I anticipated their decision though they will of course always be welcome here."
"Of course. Will you in turn send word to Sir Edmund of Blaye that I have had to return prematurely and request him to have my things sent after me?" Taliesin inclined his head obligingly. "Oh, and apologise to him for the loss of his horse. I'll send him the payment for it again." The elf looked slightly confused.
"Again?"
"A long story." Treguard apologised.
He ate quickly and within the hour they were ready to depart. Laurinda had bound Velda's wound and prepared a food parcel for them to take. She and Taliesin stood by to see them off. Treguard didn't think it wise for Velda to disapparate into a bottle so he set her in front of him wrapped in a thick cloak. Pickle however was made to travel in his bottle for convenience.
"When you send payment for the horse," Taliesin said, "Send word to us of Velda's condition."
"I shall. My thanks again for your hospitality." Treguard turned the horse and urged it forward.
"May Danu guide your steps." Laurinda called after them.
Treguard urged the horse to a gallop through the forest keeping her as near as possible to a straight line in the thick woodland. He was relieved to come to the forest edge and let the mare's pace slacken as he turned her north.
"It must be seven years I've been in Freneville forest." Velda commented as she scanned the landscape passing by them.
"And now you're retracing your steps to Knightmare Castle."
"I never came this way. I was sent magically there much like Pickle." She smiled faintly. "Fate, I suppose."
"Aye," Treguard agreed. They travelled in silence most of the way. Treguard urged the horse fast over clear terrain but was forced to slow for woodland and hills. Still he was determined to reach the north coast before dark.
The ley roads helped speed their journey and the sun had not long set when they arrived at a small seaside village. Treguard found a fisherman still about and agreed to trade his horse for a small sailboat. Luckily with Velda wrapped in a cloak, and the increasing darkness, the man didn't notice she wasn't human. Only when the boat was too far from the shore to be seen did Treguard release Pickle. He went immediately to Velda.
"How are you?" he asked laying a hand to her cheek.
"Cold," she replied wearily, "and tired." He draped the cloak over her. She closed her eyes to sleep. Treguard signalled to Pickle.
"She has a fever, master." he whispered. Treguard nodded.
"We mustn't lose any time in the crossing. If you can manage the boat I shall get some rest. then we can set off again as soon as we land." Pickle nodded.
Treguard made himself as comfortable as he could and fell asleep with the sound of waves lapping against the side.
When he awoke he felt very stiff but refreshed. Pickle was endeavouring to get Velda to eat some fruit so Treguard took in their position. He was somewhat surprised to see a shore before them. He tried to gauge how late it was by the sun but there was too much cloud cover.
"How long have I been asleep?"
"Some hours, master." Pickle replied. He looked exhausted and Treguard realised he must have summoned a wind to speed their crossing. And he recalled now that Pickle hated water.
"Have you eaten?"
"He says he won't eat 'til I do." Velda said weakly. She was forcing herself to eat slices of apple that Pickle was handing to her. It looked like she was struggling but she didn't give up. Treguard took some fruit for himself and chewed it thoughtfully as the wind blew them closer to England.
Before they reached the shore he sent Pickle back into his bottle so he had to land the boat himself. He guided the boat along the coast until he came to a settlement and then landed the boat on the beach. Velda was too weak to stand so Treguard carried her. He received some strange looks from people but the horse dealer he found was happy to overlook their appearance when he was shown some gold coins.
Treguard quickly placed the elf-maid up on the steed and set off north once again, thankful that he always carried some money for emergencies. He rode as fast as he dared but Velda was fading and would have fallen off if Treguard had not been holding her on. To make things worse it had begun to rain and there was nothing he could do to prevent her getting wet. He didn't stop for lunch but rode on until evening. Finally, the horse was exhausted and they were forced to stop.
Treguard released Pickle who had at least had a chance to rest and was the only one of them to stay dry. Treguard sat back and chewed on some dry bread and meat while the elf checked on Velda.
"She is worse, master," he reported. "And she is wet."
"Collect some firewood then." Treguard said wearily. Pickle quickly disappeared. He was gone longer than Treguard would have expected but he returned with an armful of wood. Treguard set about starting a fire when he noticed Pickle had something else.
"What's that?" Pickle held up what looked like a nut.
"A spider trapped in a nut shell, master." He tucked it into one of Velda's pockets. "It's a good cure for a fever." Treguard frowned but didn't object.
"Bring her over here then," he said once the fire was going. Pickle carefully moved her and sat cradling her head in his lap. Treguard lay down on the other side and drifted off to sleep.
It was still dark when he awoke. He sat up and rummaged in his bag for some breakfast.
"How is she?" he asked Pickle.
"No worse but no better," he replied. Treguard nodded. He ate quickly and instructed Pickle to pour water over the fire before they set off again. If they could use the ley roads they could reach Dunshelm before dark but Velda was pale and feverish. It was clear she wouldn't last another night.
