The Warlock is Missing (11 page)

A little after sunrise, they came out of the forest into a meadow dotted with wildflowers. "How pretty!" Cordelia exclaimed; then, "Yon is a footpath!"

Off to their right, a dusty track wound down the slope toward the fields below.

"And people beyond it." Magnus squinted from his vantage point on Fess's back. "Eh, but they're awake betimes!"

"Country people rise before the sun," Fess informed them. "May I suggest the unicorn seek a more discreet route?"

"But why?" Cordelia cried.

Puck shook his head. "I must own the iron beast hath the right of it. Bethink thee, child, what mortal men, full grown, would seek to do with such a creature."

Cordelia stared, her eyes widening. "Surely thou dost not mean they would wish to enslave her!"

"Aye, certes they would—and would try to steal her from one another." Geoffrey smiled with tolerance for his sister's innocence. "And the creature might be slain in the fighting."

Cordelia leaped down from the unicorn's back as though it were a hot griddle. "Oh, I could not bear it!" She caught the great silver head between her hands and stroked the muzzle. "I could not bear to have thee hurted! Nay, my love, my jewel! Go thou, and hide thee! Be assured, we'll meet again when we come back to this forest."

But the unicorn tossed her head as though scorning danger.

"Nay, I beg of thee!" Cordelia pleaded. "Hide thee! Thou knowest not how vile some men may be!"

Puck smiled, with a cynicism that softened into fondness.

The unicorn gazed into Cordelia's eyes. Then she tossed her head, turning, and trotted back into the forest.

"Will I see her again, thinkest thou, Puck?"

"Who may say?" Puck said softly. "Such creatures are wild and free; no man may summon them, nor no young lass, neither. They come when they wish." He turned to smile up at

Cordelia. "Yet I think this one will wish it."

He turned away. "Now, come! Let's trace this track that thou hast found!"

They went down a slope glorious with blossoms. As they neared the bottom, they passed a stile, a set of stairs that went up one side of a wall and came down the other, so that people could cross, but cattle could not. A pretty peasant girl was leaning against the stile with a mocking smile, gazing up through half-lowered eyelashes at a young farmhand who stood, rigid with anger, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Nay, then, Corin," the peasant girl purred. "How durst thou think that I might spare a glance for one who's craven?"

Magnus and Geoffrey stopped to stare at the girl. "Why, she is beautiful," Magnus breathed.

Geoffrey swallowed heavily.

Cordelia looked at them as though they'd taken leave of their senses. So, for that matter, did Gregory.

"Craven?" Corin exploded. "Nay! I'm as brave as any man! Show me any foe, and I will fight him!"

"Foe?" she scoffed. "Nay, walk into the greenwood! Go into the hills! Stride down any highway! Thy foes will leap to meet thee—bandits, thieves, and outlaws! 'Tis come to be so bad as that! Any man who's restless, or hath an ounce of mettle, doth break the law, and runneth off to hide and thieve —and leaveth wife and children to the care of those dull males who have no daring!"

Puck had hidden in the heather near Magnus's foot, but the children could hear him growl, "Assuredly, 'tis never so bad as that!"

" 'Tis not a word of truth!" Corin bawled. " 'Tis not needful for a man to work evil, only because he's a man! Nay, there's strength required to stay and ward, and. care for those ye love!"

"Love?" the girl sneered. "I spit on that which you call love! Oh, caring there may be—but there's naught of thrill nor joy within it!"

Corin stepped toward her, hands outstretched, palms up. "If thou didst love me, thou wouldst see the error of thy words."

"An I did love thee," she spat, "I would needs be as dull as thou! Nay, how could I love a man who'd leave his wife and ' bairns in threat of pillaging?" >

"I would never do so!" Corin cried.

"Yet thou dost! Thou dost permit these bandits to roam wild throughout the hills! Thou dost give leave to highway-men to rob and beat whomsoe'er they please! Nay, no woman's safe to walk abroad now by herself! Within these two days gone, three lasses that I know have suffered, and a dozen men have run off to the hills.
True
men." Her eyes glittered as she looked directly into his. "Not mere boys."

"In only two days' time?" Puck snorted. "Such could never hap so quickly."

But Fess's voice sounded inside their heads:
It could, if the High Warlock's enemies were fully prepared to accomplish such disorder, and were only waiting for his disappearance to unleash their agents
.

Corin had reddened. "Thou dost wrong me, sweet Phebe! What could I do to halt them? At the least, I stay to guard the village!"

"And assuredly, thou wilt repel them when they come against us," she said with sarcasm.

"What else might I do?" he cried.

"Why, join the Shire-Reeve and march behind his banner! Go to fight for him, and capture or put down these outlaws who would prey on us! That is what thou mayest do—and might have, these three days past! Yet I misdoubt me an thou wilt, for there'd be danger! Only real men, who can conquer fear, will fight for him!"

Corin's face finned with resolution. He straightened, squaring his shoulders. "Thou dost wrong me, Phebe. I will go unto him straightaway—and thou shalt see how little I do fear!"

"Brave lad!" she cried, and leaped forward to seize his face and give him such a kiss as he had likely never had—a kiss both long and lasting; and, when she stepped back, he gasped for air, and seemed quite dazed.

"Go now," she cooed, "and show me what a man may earn!"

He nodded, not quite focusing, and turned away to drift on up the pasture lane between plowed fields, off toward the highway.

Phebe watched him go—and as she did, her face hardened, and her eyes glittered with contempt.

"And such, I doubt not, hath she done to half the lads of the village," Puck muttered, unseen.. "Kelly, go! Find near elves, and tell them to ask for news: Hath banditry truly begun so horribly in only two days' time? And discover, too, if other maids have done as she hath."

"I go," the leprecohen's voice crackled. "Begorra! If such as she taunts men to this Shire-Reeve's army, we'll know what to do with him!"

But Magnus was drifting toward Phebe, and Geoffrey was following as though an invisible string drew him.

Magnus cleared his throat. "Your pardon, but we have heard what thou hast said. Tell, we pray, who is this Shire-Reeve thou speakest of?"

Phebe whirled about in surprise, then smiled, amused. "Why, child! Knowest thou not what a reeve is?"

"Aye," said Magnus, " 'tis the man who doth tend to all the King's business in a district. A shire-reeve is one who doth take the King's taxes and levy low justice for a whole shire; and he must put down bandits if the barons do not."

"There! Thou didst know it, straightway," Phebe laughed. "Yet our Shire-Reeve is somewhat more—for look you, he is Reeve of Runnymede; and he hath seen that even in the King's own shire, Their Majesties cannot keep down bandits and highwaymen. Nay, even more—they cannot keep their kingdom in peace and order! Ever must the King's army be inarching and countermarching, trampling through the hard-grown crops and levying stores of provender that we peasant folk put by for winter, to be putting down rebellions, and those who would unseat Their Majesties from their thrones. In but the last two days the Counts of Llewellyn and Glynn have taken it into their heads to take more land into their counties —and have not thought it needful to ask a by-your-leave of Their Majesties! So they do call up all their knights, who call their peasants away from their fields, and this with the summer haying hard by, to go make war upon each other! And what do Their Majesties do, what?"

"I know not." Geoffrey gazed up at her, entranced. "What do they?"

"Why, naught, little one," she said, with a silvery laugh. "They do naught! And our good Shire-Reeve hath grown weary of such lawlessness. Nay, he hath risen up in righteous wrath, and hath declared that the King hath failed to govern. ' And, saith he, an the King will not wield the law to keep the peace, our Reeve will, himself! 'Tis for this he doth gather lads for his armed band—that he may, by force of arms, put down these bandits, and make the roads once again so safe that a woman may walk them alone. Already hath he sallied 'gainst an outlaw band and broken them—and daily do more young lads flock to his banner!"

"Small wonder," Cordelia muttered, "an they do encounter lasses like to thee!"

"Why 'tis glorious!" Geoffrey shouted. "Let us join with this Shire-Reeve! Let us, too, go forth to do battle with evil-doers and outlaws! Let it be said of us that we, too, did aid in restoring the peace!"

"I had not known it had fallen so badly," Cordelia said dryly.

"Only since Mama and Papa went away," Gregory reminded.

Magnus's gaze stayed glued to Phebe's face, but he gave his head a little shake and blinked. "Nay, tell me—what difference is there between what this Shire-Reeve doth and what the counts do? Is he not also making war, and disturbing the peace?"

Phebe frowned. "Oh, nay! He doth restore the peace!"

"By making battle?" Gregory asked.

Phebe's face darkened.

"I cannot help but think that he doth behave as badly as the counts," Magnus agreed. "Tell—doth he, too, not seek to increase the territory he doth govern? Doth he, too, not attempt to bring more villages under his sway?"

"He doth push farther and farther afield 'gainst the bandits, that's true," Phebe said, frowning. "Is this conquest?"

"Certes," Geoffrey said automatically, and Magnus said, "Battle is battle. The clash of arms and the toll of the dead is noise and destruction, whether it be thy Shire-Reeve who doth command, or the counts."

"I would rather have peace lost from armies than from bandits," Phebe declared hotly.

"I cannot like any man who fights our King and Queen," Cordelia declared, "no matter how the cause they claim doth glitter with goodness. He who fights not for Their Majesties, fights against the Law they seek to uphold." She turned to Geoffrey. "Join him? Nay, brother. If aught, thou shouldst join battle against him, and work his downfall."

Geoffrey frowned. "Dost thou truly think so?" He shrugged. "Well, then, as thou wilt. I'll not contest, when thou and Magnus do agree—the more especially when Greg-ory is of a mind with the two of thee."

Phebe gave a nasty laugh. "Hast thou no mind of thine own, then?"

"Only for matters that interest me. For affairs of state, I care not, so long as there be battle and glory within it. Nay, I'd as liefer fight against thy Shire-Reeve as for him."

Phebe laughed again, but in disbelief. "Nay, assuredly thou mayest do as thou wilt! Go, bear thy swords of lath against the Shire-Reeve! For what matter can mere children make, when armies clash?"

Cordelia's face darkened, and her chin came up. "Mayhap more matter than thou canst know, when those children are the High Warlock's brood."

Phebe stared. Then, slowly, she said, "Aye, they might, an they were such highborn children. Art thou truly they?"

Gregory tugged at Cordelia's skirt. "What is 'highborn'?"

"A deal of nonsense that grown folk speak," she answered impatiently.

"'Tis only the highborn who can think so." Phebe frowned, stroking the pouting fullness of her lower lip.

Abruptly, she seemed to come to a decision. Her face cleared, and she beamed down at the children. "Nay, surely, two fellows so brave as thyselves must needs strengthen any army! Wilt thou not, then, come with me to the Shire-Reeve?"

Her voice was velvet and silk; her heavily-lidded eyes seemed to glow into theirs. She stretched out a hand in welcome.

Magnus and Geoffrey stared at her, their eyes fairly bulging.

"Come, then," Phebe breathed, "for I am of his army, too."

Magnus took one wooden step toward her. So did Geoffrey.

"Nay!" Cordelia cried. "What dost thou? Canst not see the falseness in her?"

"Be still, small hussy," Phebe hissed.

But her brothers seemed not even to hear her. They moved toward Phebe—slowly, almost stumbling, but moving. She nodded in encouragement, eyes glowing.

Inside the children's heads, Fess's voice said, "Beware, Magnus, Geoffrey! The woman uses her beauty as she would use you!"

"Why, she cannot use us, if we fight willingly," Geoffrey muttered.

Gregory threw himself toward them, catching Geoffrey's hand. "What spell is this? Nay, turn! How hath she entranced thee?"

"Knowest thou not?" Phebe breathed. "Thou, too, art male, though very young. Wilt thou, too, not come to fight for the Shire-Reeve?"

"Nay, never!" Gregory stated. "What hast thou done?"

"Thou'lt learn when thou art older, I doubt not," Phebe said with scorn. "Away! Thou hast no worth yet! But thy brothers…" She gazed at the two elder boys, running the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. "They will come to me." She held out both hands. Gazing up at her, Magnus took one. Geoffrey took her other hand. Smiling in triumph, she turned away, strolling down the footpath with Magnus and Geoffrey to either side. She spared one quick, scornful glance back over her shoulder at Cordelia.

The forsaken sister clenched her fists. "Oh! The hussy! Quickly, Gregory! We cannot let her take our brothers!"

"But how can we stop them?" Gregory asked.

"I know not! Oh! What manner of witchcraft is this, that I have never heard of?"

"Nor never will, from the look of thee," Phebe called maliciously. But the path seemed to explode in front of her, and she pulled back with a cry of alarm.