Chapter 5 – La Dame à la Licorne
"The Lady and the Unicorn"
(Please join me in wishing happy birthday to Prince Nuada and Princess Nuala :P - Nasserwraith, 19 Mar 2019)
Claidheamh Soluis slid free of the agent's body with a satisfying rush of blood. Scattered shouts and screams echoed down the hall as the elven prince quickly dispatched the last two men sent to slow his escape into the main section of the complex. Above him, Ogham words of warding glowed briefly over the archway of his former cell before fading back into the metal beam and vanishing altogether. He raised his opposite hand to absently touch the circular torque pin binding the red sash at his waist. The whetstone was cracked beyond repair at this point, but it had done its job well. The Gealach Téamh was an ancient object with little use in the grand scheme of things, which is likely why it had spent most of the past few centuries buried in various museum archives or archaeological log books. It had but one power however, and that was to allow its wearer to pass unhindered through a single threshold, on a single day, at a specific time of the year. His glass, iron, and incanted prison was as good as any when it came to the pin's usage and today was a very special day indeed.
It was the eve of the Vernal Equinox; when the plane of Earth's equator would pass through the center of the Sun. Like many Fae and nearly all elves of royal lineage, today was Nuada's birthday (the anniversary of one's birth being the only day in question an individual might use a Gealach Téamh) and the day when every kingdom of Fairest Folk would be celebrating the beginning of the new year. Marked, as it once had been, by the joining of the Court of the Sun, the court of the ancients, with the blooming of the Summer Throne in Seelie lands. Today, he reminded himself, was also the day that the world might finally begin to experience the full measure of his revenge.
Three Raven Guards approached him from the far hallway. Their loyalty to the throne of Bathmoora was absolute and he was grateful now for their fealty, particularly given the shameful circumstances under which they had lost their last monarch. Seven of them had arrived near dusk, easily infiltrating the compound with a combination of cantrips, enchantments, and artifacts gleaned from museums and auction houses over the past few weeks. The combinations of blessed weapons and mystic charms they had been able to reclaim were more than enough to find the hidden institute, breach it, and navigate their way through the labyrinthine halls once there. The timing was also perfect, on a number of levels. Few people were currently minding the complex and a virtual skeleton crew was all that was left as the rest of the government's forces were occupied with well-planned troubles elsewhere. This strike was near surgical and was meant to be over and done with in mere minutes. And now, once again in league with their Prince, the Corvids turned their attentions to the task at hand: freeing their sovereign and pressing his advantage.
Nuada raised the Silverlance and pointed it down the hallway.
"Bring up the Hound." He commanded. "My sister passed this way not long ago. She will have the Unicorn with her but not for long. She knows I can track her regardless of where she may go, so it follows that she will hide Ailith before attempting to lead me astray. They make for the Goblin Trading Post at the dockside, so we must move quickly."
The three Corvids nodded in assent as the other four joined them from a skirmish near the lifts, each dragging a heavy chain as they pulled their new captive clear of the freight doors. The great beast, a Cŵn Annwn or Cù-sìth by name, appeared before them as a massive dog the size of warhorse. Shaggy, dark green, fur covered the creature in tufts and tussocks reminiscent of the grassy Highlands from which it had originally hailed. Its whitish tail was split into three parts and braided into a whip-like lash while paws the size of a man's head stamped at the ground in challenge. As the Raven Guards finally hauled the faehound into the main causeway, they each settled at one of four points along its flanks, always at ready to restrain it should the beast lunge for their Prince. As moments passed, the hound regarded Nuada with untrusting yellow eyes but did not move to attack him, having spent most of its last few years in the Dungeon below; another prisoner of B.P.R.D.'s extensive supernatural pacification program.
Nuada lowered his weapon and approached the Cù-sìth with gentle reverence, extending his open hand outwards towards the creature's nose. A loud huff indicated the beast's interest in reading his scent and he remained passive as it sniffed at him cautiously. With a grumble, it finally relaxed and allowed Nuada to run his fingers through the mossy fur along its snout. The Prince smiled, despite himself. "All in due course, my friend." He whispered soothingly. "Welcome back to the world. It is time for you to run again that we may all give chase." He motioned to the Raven Guard who dropped the chains and unclasped them from the neck of the Cù-sìth. The hound then indulged in a satisfying shake before settling into a calmer posture among the ranks.
"Fellows." He addressed all assembled. "On this day, the Aequinoctium, the right ascension of spring is illuminated by the procession of the sun. But this equinox is not like any other we have seen in more than a millennium. Today, we do what can be done on no other day but this one. Today, we call the Great Hunt. As our ancestors once did in ages past, the fae born of Waking and the fae born of Dreaming will again meet each another on the Field of the Wild. It is our charge to claim one of the Dreaming, an Aos Sì, and bring her into our domain. In so doing, we also honor the old treaties and pay the price by giving of our own. This union on the thresholds between sleep and awake will then herald the new Spring. New life will come to our world once again, such as we have not seen in an age." He paused, considering the weight of his words carefully. "But our quarry is swift and clever. She will not be taken easily. We must therefore use all that we have at our disposal: our cunning must be brought to bear on the riddles presented, our strength on the battles to come, and our wit on the strategies of our prey."
An eager hum arose from the company of guardians. The Cù-sìth remained intent until the Prince passed his spear from his left hand to his right, wherein it raised its head and gave three, loud, echoing, barks.
"Tá an fiach orainn. Let the Hunt of the Unicorn begin."
From the Troll Markets to the country duchies, fae everywhere heard the call.
"What is going on!?" Ailith cried but Nuala did not slow nor did she soften her grip on the other's arm. "Where are we going!?"
With a sudden gasp of alarm, the Princess stopped, looking around and around in alarm. "Ailith, please." She begged. "We don't have time. The Hunt is upon us."
"Hunt? What hunt?" Nuala drew the girl close before setting off down an alleyway towards a colonial tavern at the end of a cobbled lane. Unlike its more touristy counterparts, this tavern had stood largely unnoticed since the early days of European immigration to the American coast and it had gone through just about as many names as the people who had found solace there. "In Irons?" Ailith read from the sign tacked to the left of the large, wooden, door. "We're going to a bar called In Irons?"
"It's a sailing term." Nuala clarified. "And it's not a bar. This is the Northward Goblin Trading Post. It's the only place for miles where we might book safe passage."
"To where?" The elfin girl repeated, abject frustration playing out through her enunciation.
"Ailith." Nuala steadied the both of them just outside latticed windows. "I know this is confusing but you have to trust me. Once we're inside, I can explain more but for right now, we need to get off the streets before we're seen."
Ailith sighed and sagged into the Princess's hold, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Alright."
On entering In Irons the two women were greeted by the myriad sights and smells of a fae public house. All manner of creatures, from the trollishly large to palm-sized pixies and sprites, were arranged in rows of tables with a line of half-elves, a number of goblins, and a troupe of household boggarts dressed in the livery of chessmen at the bar. A few of the closer patrons turned to take notice of them as the door swung shut with an ominous creak but for the most part, they went unrecognized.
Nuala led Ailith to a corner before proffering a seat next to the wall. When the other accepted it, she hovered on the far side of the table for a few seconds, checking their surroundings cautiously. She sighed under her breath, "A lion on my right, a unicorn on my left. Nothing good will come of this."
"What does that mean?"
"Wait here."
Ailith watched as the Princess hurried from the table to take up an anxious position at the end of the bar. A minute later, a rather knobbly looking grey troll sauntered over to her and leaned down so that she could whisper in his ear. The troll scowled, looked at her askance, but then shrugged. She watched as the Princess then produced two small slips of paper from the pouch in her hooded gown and gave them over to the troll who then nodded gruffly and mumbled something guttural that Ailith couldn't catch in the din. Nuala accepted a couple of mugs filled with hot tea and a slice of bread before returning to her companion.
Nuala took the chair across from the other and slid the mugs and bread towards her. "Ailith, what do you know of the Great Hunt?"
"Great Hunt?" She pondered, absently tearing off a piece of the loaf. "A Wild Hunt, you mean?"
Nuala nodded and waved her hand in acknowledgement.
"Well, a lot of fairy tales have them. Like the…uh…Hunt of Odin? Um, King Arthur? It's usually some kind of mythical creature being hunted by…elves? Or the dead? Right?"
Nuala nodded again and continued. "Ages ago, the royal houses of the Seelie would call a Great Hunt once in a generation. Every year, on the eve of the Spring Equinox, the councils of the Summer Court would meet to determine if that year was the appropriate year and if so, would then speak the binding words of calling and strike their Bargain with the Court of the Sun."
Ailith fidgeted. "Nuala, I don't understand anything you're saying. Summer Court? Bargain? Court of the Sun? I feel like I should know what you mean, but I don't!"
Nuala cast a frightened look about them before clenching her trembling fingers and resting them on the table. She took a single, deep, breath.
"Well, since you like fairy tales so much, let me tell you another one. Before the Age of Men, the world was ruled by the Fae. Of the Fae, there were two important divisions. The Seelie, the lawful houses of light and the Unseelie, the chaotic houses of the dark. But it was mankind who misunderstood this division as being between the True Fae and the Earthbound Fae, as…as… between truly supernatural beings and those who were born of mortal flesh. This is not the reality of things. Rather, the True Fae are called Aos Sí. Beings of pure nature and harbingers of magic who passed into this world from The Other Place eons before the memories of men began; ancient creatures born of the divine dreaming of the world. The Aos Sí on Earth, specifically those who had direct dealings with the world, were called the Tuatha Dé Danann and those lineages, those heroes and legends of the old world, were collectively known as The Court of the Sun. The Court of the Sun then, essentially, were the ones who taught magic to the world and then ruled supreme over the natural domains of creation. Follow me so far?"
Ailith dipped her chin once.
"Good. Alright. Over time, the Aos Sí, who we now call the Dreaming Fae, began to intermingle with Nature and with the peoples of the ancient world. From these unions were born the bloodlines of the Aois-dàna, the Earthbound or Waking Fae. It was the Aois-dàna who eventually split into the Seelie and Unseelie Courts; the twin rulerships of Spring-Summer and Autumn-Winter. In other words, all the Fae you know and all the Fae you see here are Aois-dàna; each according to their own unique kinds. Now, I'll spare you the long, long, histories of my people but suffice to say that they eventually separated out into various kith and kingdoms and dominions and eventually incorporated all manner of fae-peoples in courts and bloodlines and what have you. But…"
She raised a finger to ensure she had the other's undivided attention.
"This is where our story comes in. It was tradition, you see, for the Court of the Sun and the Seelie Summer Court to maintain the long-lasting unity and harmony between Fae-kinds and the ultimate balance of Nature through a once-in-a-generation exchange. The Court of the Sun would offer up one of its most highly-prized consorts, a Unicorn; empresses of the woodland realms, courtiers of trees, and fetters of the divine rights of sovereignty. The Summer Court would then name a Hunter, usually a Prince or Princess or close to it but specifically someone not Heir Apparent to a throne. This way, the lower kingdoms would keep their direct lines of succession intact while at the same time, the bonds between the Aos Sí and the Aois-dàna would be renewed. It was then the task of the Hunter and their closest kin to pursue, capture, and subdue the unicorn. If they were successful, and often they were not, the named Hunter and the Unicorn would then become, by weight of Geas, a mated pair."
"Huh." Ailith replied. "Ok? But, what does that have to do with us?"
Nuala exhaled slowly, still not entirely sure how much she wanted to tell her.
"Ailith, the Great Hunt was the method by which the line to the sidereal High Kingship was decided. Only through bonding with an Aos Sí would an Aois-dàna be eligible to ascend to the highest throne and be granted the power of absolute allegiance; to rule as High King or High Queen. This is something that has not happened in millennia, at least, not since the destruction of the last of the Court of the Sun at the coming of the Age of Men. After that, the High Kingship was considered ended forever and the onset of Winter was presaged. With no unicorns left in the world and with the departure of the last Aos Sí back into The Other Place, it was thought that it would only be a matter of time before magic itself burned out and wonder would be forever lost. When men finally came, they were simply the last straw in a string of tragedies and disasters in the great story of our misery. They wreaked havoc on the last of the fae kingdoms and ransacked the castles and hillsides. The throne, the crown, the ancient libraries and genealogies, the agreements and ties of kinship, everything….it was all destroyed."
Ailith furrowed her brow in response to Nuala's fevered telling. She still didn't understand what this had to do with her or with anything really, but she could clearly see the terror writ on the Princess's features. And that alone was enough to frighten her.
"But in its time," Nuala continued, "the Great Hunt was so terrifying that it scarred the memories of people for generations. Seeing a Wild Hunt often heralded great catastrophes, like wars or plagues. Many also began to see them as harbingers of death. I have encountered tales that those who even so much as heard the horn or the baying of the hounds would fall dead in an instant or that the riders would harvest up the souls of the sleeping to participate in the chase. During the battles and treaties of my father's time, all manner of men betrayed us or attacked us for no other reason than that they feared the return of the Hunts and, I suppose, the return of the High King. It is the very thing Nuada called for that ultimately split them apart, our father and he."
"Nuada wanted him to become the High King?"
"No, not exactly." Nuala sipped at her tea before admitting. "Well, it's hard to say. My brother believed that the only way to punish mankind for their treachery and murder was to re-forge the ancient bonds with the Aos Sí and to enact a return to a few of our more…savage…. traditions. He wanted something or someone who could enforce the terms of the old treaties and keep mankind to their side of the wall, so to speak, and to protect, by force, the wild places of the Earth. Naming a new High King, one who could command the alliance of ancients, would have been one way to do that. At the very least, a High King would have been able to bring back the rules and consequences of Creideamh Sí. You know, the Fairy Faith. When I was little, people still observed the rituals and practices by which mankind kept good relationships with the fae and avoided angering the elders and sovereigns. Whether he meant for it to be himself or not, I don't know. Honestly? I don't think so. Not then, at least."
Ailith thought back on her many conversations with Nuada over the past several weeks. Unexpectedly, she felt the formation of an involuntary smile at the memory of his last lengthy exposition on one of the books of traditional tales she had brought to him. She had asked him all sorts of questions about the famous heroes: The Dagda, Cú Chulainn, Lugh the Long Arm, The Morrigan, Brigit and Aed, and the Three Sisters. He always had fascinating answers, launching into vivid tales of chance meetings and battles, festivals and sacred journeys. On one particularly memorable occasion, though he had not intended to be humorous, she had found his commentary on the vagaries of fairy bargaining quite funny. This was mainly due to the fact that he clearly disliked talking animals and went on for some time as to how not to get into an argument with one. Not because he thought that they were rendered incorrectly in the texts but in that he found them to be completely untrustworthy. He especially distrusted owls.
Her smile then turned sad as the memories continued to play out in detail. She remembered him as he had been in those last few days. Generally at ease, though still confined and resistant. Dressed in his black kaftan coat and red silk sash. Pale skin softly aglow in the blue lights of the cell. Dark eyes, both mirthful and intense. She didn't want to say it but she missed him. In fact, she had started to grow rather fond of him and his unpredictably stormy mannerisms and passionate affectations.
"But it's not the point anymore." Ailith heard Nuala say. She looked up from the bits of bread still on the table to the Princess across from her, who went on to add, "The Hunt has been called again. I heard it only moments ago. Every fae in this region would have heard it. And it is Nuada who leads them."
"But…" Ailith answered, still unsure of exactly what was afoot. "If Nuada has called a Wild Hunt, then wouldn't that mean he's trying to become High King?"
"If he is successful, yes." The Princess responded, sadly. "I now believe that is exactly his intent."
"Which means…" The other tried to carry her thoughts through to their logical end. "…that he must be hunting something…" Ailith thought back on her readings, on all the esoteric books and scrolls she'd managed to dig through in her time with the B.P.R.D. In a flash, she came to a horrible conclusion. Woodcuts and illuminations of the arranged royal marriages between fae twins floated through her vision and she suddenly understood why Nuala was so afraid. She was also angry at Nuada then, for imposing such obligations as that which must be equally offensive to him, given her understanding of his views on the occasionally incestuous history of elves.
Ailith reached her hand out to rest it on Nuala's in a gesture of comfort. "Nuala? Is that what's wrong? Are you being hunted?"
Nuala raised her eyes to meet the concerned ones of the crackle-skinned girl with the unruly white hair.
"No, Ailie. You are."