Wrede, Patricia C - Mairelon 01 (21 page)

           
"I
said, leave them," Dan said sharply. "I don't need any more
complications. This"--he gave Fenton's body a casual kick--"is more
than enough."

           
The
canvas sack hit the ground with a thud and a clatter. "Very good,"
said Dan. "Now, drag our late friend back into the woods a little, where
he won't be so likely to be noticed. I don't want him found until we're well on
our way back to
London
.

           
"I
see you were acquainted with the late Mr. Fenton," Mairelon said as Jack
Stower, glowering, complied with Dan's commands.

           
"James
was one of my least reliable men," Dan said. "I was positively
looking forward to disposing of him myself. If I'd realized he was getting
ideas above his station, I'd have done so long before this." He gave the
canvas sack a disapproving look.

           
"Then
Fenton
was
the one who made all the fakes!" Kim said before she
could stop herself.

           
"All the fakes?
You mean there are others besides
these?" Dan gave the sack a look that should have made it crumble to dust
on the spot. "My, but he was ambitious. Or perhaps greedy is the proper
word; under the circumstances, it's difficult to be sure. It was James, all
right. His eldest brother is a silversmith."

           
" 'The
black sheep of 'is family; they're mostly
respectable tradesmen,' " Mairelon murmured. "I should have asked
Hunch for details."

           
"Speaking
of platters, I think it's time you told me where the real one is," Dan
said pleasantly. "It's what I came for, after all."

           
"I'm
afraid your Mr. Fenton didn't say," Mairelon said with equal affability.

           
"I
don't care whether he told you where he put it or simply gestured so eloquently
that the knowledge sprang into your mind unbidden," Dan said dryly.
"I want to know the location of the Saltash Platter. I'm sure you don't
need a list of the various painful things I could do to your young companion to
make you talk."

           
"Quite
so," Mairelon said in the gentle tone he used only when he was
particularly angry. Kim glanced apprehensively at Dan, but he seemed oblivious
to Mairelon's reaction, and Kim realized with a sense of shock that Dan did not
know Mairelon at all. She was so used to taking for granted that Dan Laverham
knew everyone and everything better than she did that she barely heard Mairelon
continue, "It's somewhere in the druid lodge. I'm afraid he wasn't any
more specific than that, but a little searching should turn it up without too
much difficulty. The place isn't that large."

           
"Very
good," said Dan. "Jack! Leave that and come along." He gestured
with one of his pistols.
"That way, Mr. Merrill, and not
too fast.
Follow him a little to the side, Kim."

           
"What
d'you
want
them for?" Jack demanded, emerging
from the woods with a sour expression. "Pop them and leave them with the
other cove."

           
"You
have no imagination," Dan responded. "Get that sack out of sight and
meet us at the carriage. And don't linger; I won't wait for you."

           
As they
started up the avenue in the direction Dan had indicated, Kim glanced back and
saw Jack glare after Dan. He bent and grabbed the open end of the sack, and,
with a strong heave, sent it flying into the trees before he ran to catch up
with Laverham.

           
Dan
Laverham directed them down the tree-lined avenue and along a bridle path to a
wooden gate in the hedge. Kim, remembering how difficult getting through the
hedge had been, gave Mairelon a reproachful look as Stower opened the gate and
waved them through. Mairelon did not seem to notice; he was studying Stower in
a way that made Kim very nervous. After all, Dan was still behind them with a
pair of guns.

           
To Kim's
relief, Mairelon did nothing to annoy Dan, and they reached the lane with no
more than a few dark looks from Jack Stower. A closed carriage waited near the
roadside, the driver's perch occupied by a figure muffled in a shabby,
ill-fitting coat that, to Kim's experienced eye, had the indefinable aura of
the London back streets. The horses were placidly chewing wisps of grass, and
Mairelon gave them the same long, considering look he had just given Jack.

           
"Ben!"
Dan called as he came through the gate. "We have another stop or two to
make. Mr. Merrill will give you the direction."

           
Mairelon
glanced back over his shoulder at Dan. Dan smiled very slightly and lifted one
of his pistols a fraction of an inch. "And they will be clear and without
any deliberately misleading bits. Won't they, Mr. Merrill?"

           
"Of course."
Mairelon inclined his head, then
turned and went forward to speak with the coachman. Dan kept his eyes--and his
pistol--fixed on them as he waved Jack forward with his other hand.

           
"I
think you had better ride with Ben," Dan told him. "Put the guns
under your coat; we don't want to attract attention."

           
"You
ain't riding in there with two of 'em!" Jack protested. "What if they
jump you?"

           
"A
point," said Dan, showing no signs of concern. "Have the goodness to
hold your gun on Mr. Merrill while I see to it that they won't."

           
Jack
nodded with unnecessary force. He stepped forward and pointed both of his
pistols at Mairelon's stomach. Dan looked at him, nodded, and turned to Kim.
"I trust you will not attempt to do anything foolish in the next few
minutes," he said. "It would have most unpleasant consequences."

           
Kim
didn't trust her voice, so she nodded. Dan smiled coldly and set his right-hand
pistol on the step of the carriage. "This will only take a moment,"
he said, putting his hand in his pocket. He withdrew it almost immediately, and
when he uncurled his fingers, Kim saw two balls resting in his palm. One was a
silver sphere, covered with tiny vines and
fruit, that
would have fit comfortably in the circle of Kim's thumb and forefinger. The
other was a small, faceted crystal the size of her thumbnail.

           
Behind
her, Kim heard a sharp intake of breath from Mairelon. Dan looked past her and
said, "I see you recognize these, Mr. Merrill. I hope that means you will
be sensible enough not to interfere. The pieces of the Saltash Set are
temperamental to work with when they aren't together."

           
Without
waiting for a response, Dan stretched his hand toward Kim and began murmuring
sharp, crystalline words. They hung in the air, twisting over and under and
around each other like the streets of
London
,
making an intangible net between Kim and Dan. Kim shuddered and took an
involuntary step backward. Dan Laverham raised his left hand and made a
complicated gesture, his voice rising as he did so. The invisible web of words
swirled and swept forward, settling around Kim. She froze, waiting for it to do
whatever it was meant to.

           
Dan
gestured again, commandingly, and shouted a final phrase. The two spheres began
to glow with a clear, silver light. Kim felt the razor-edged words close in,
but the air between her and the spell was full of a strong, sweet, smoky scent,
and the net of magic could not touch her. She swayed, light-headed with relief,
and the spell swayed with her, maintaining its fractional distance.

           
"There,"
Dan said. He sounded breathless, as if he had been running, but he spoke in a
tone of great satisfaction. He returned the two still-glowing balls to his
pocket and bent to pick up his pistol.

           
"An
interesting demonstration," Mairelon said in a cool voice from behind
Kim's shoulder. "But what is it supposed to accomplish?"

           
"Dear
me, I thought you would be able to puzzle that out for yourself," Dan
replied, straightening. "Even under these admittedly adverse
conditions."

           
"You
have a high opinion of me," Mairelon answered. "I recognized parts of
it, but I've never seen anything quite like the whole. You adapted the Saltash
truth spells to do something else, didn't you?"

           
"Shut
your gob," Jack Stower growled, gesturing with his pistols.

           
"Now,
now, don't get carried away, my dear," Dan said to Jack. "After all,
he's quite right." Dan turned to Mairelon. "It's a control spell, or
rather,
a minor reworking of the control portions of the
Saltash spells. It therefore has the same limits as its original, an annoyance
I hope to correct once I have the whole set to study."

           
"The
same
limits as the Saltash spells
?" Mairelon
looked from Kim to Dan and shook his head. "That can't be very convenient.
Only one person at a time, only one use per person, time limit--what is the
time limit on your control spell, by the way? I know how long it is for the
Saltash spells."

           
"Two
hours," Dan answered. "Long enough for me to retrieve the Saltash
Platter and Bowl and be well on my way back to
London
.
Providing, of course, that we don't waste any more time.
Into the carriage."

           
Kim
blinked, realizing that this last command was directed at her. She felt no
particular compulsion to follow Dan's orders, though she could still sense his
spell hovering around her. She stared at Dan for a moment, her mind whirling,
and suddenly the pieces came together. Dan had adapted the Saltash spells into
a control spell, but his spell still had the same flaws as the Saltash spells.
It only worked once on any particular person. And over a week before, on their
first night out of
London
, Mairelon
had cast the Saltash truth spell on Kim to find out what her lay was. That was
why Dan's control couldn't touch her!

           
There
were, however, two pistols still pointed at Mairelon, and he and Kim were
outnumbered
three to two
, counting
the phlegmatic coachman. It would clearly be much better to follow Dan's
directions for a while. As long as he thought his spell was working, he
wouldn't pay too much attention to Kim, and she might get a chance to pike off
and get Hunch. Kim took a deep breath and climbed into the carriage.

           
"You
next, Mr. Merrill," Dan said. "Sit there, next to Kim. Good."
Dan climbed in after Mairelon and settled onto the seat opposite him. He
pointed his pistols at Mairelon, then called out the window, "Up on the
box with Ben, Jack. Keep your pistols handy, but try not to let anyone see
them. We don't want to attract attention, remember."

           
Jack said
something Kim could not hear, and Dan frowned.
"Nonsense.
Don't dally, my dear; I haven't time to waste."

           
There was
a muffled curse, followed by an assortment of thumps as Jack climbed up to sit
with the coachman. A moment later, the coach jerked and started off. "Not
much of a driver, your man Ben," Mairelon commented. "Did you bring
him out of sentiment, or economy?"

           
"Neither,"
Dan said with unimpaired good humor. "He has talents other than driving
that I thought I might find useful."

           
There was
an undercurrent in Dan's voice that made Kim shiver. She was all too conscious
of the various unpleasant ways a man could find to survive in
London
's
rookeries; Jack Stower was the Archbishop of Canterbury compared to some. She
knew nothing of the driver, but she knew enough of Dan to be sure that she
didn't want to learn. Anyone he spoke of in those tones was sure to be an ugly
customer.

           
Dan
either did not see Kim's quiver or attributed it to the motion of the carriage.
Mairelon shot her a flickering glance,
then
returned
his attention to Dan as if he had noticed nothing. A moment later, however, the
carriage lurched as he was shifting his position, and he fell sideways against
Kim's shoulder.

           
"Don't
fret," he breathed into her ear, his lips barely moving. "Sorry,
Kim," he added in a louder tone as he straightened and resumed his seat.

           
Kim
forgot her worries long enough to glare at him. "Don't fret" was
probably his idea of a reassuring message, but he couldn't have picked a more
ridiculous thing to say if he'd thought about it since the day they met. Don't
fret, with Dan Laverham pointing a pistol at them, Jack Stower on the box with
a gun of his own, a dead man in the woods behind them, and not the faintest
hope of a way out of the mess that she could see? Don't fret, when Dan was
about to get his hands on the blasted platter that all the rogues and half the
gentry for miles around were chasing after? Did he take her for a Bedlamite, or
hadn't it occurred to him that any reasonable person would fret himself to
flinders in a situation like this?

           
"I
think you should stay firmly seated from now on," Dan said to Mairelon.
"It would be unfortunate, don't you think, if you were to careen into me
that way and my pistol were to go off."

           
"Unfortunate
is certainly one word for it," Mairelon agreed. "You know, as long as
we have time for a chat, I was wondering whether you'd tell me a little more
about that control spell of yours. It's terribly interesting. Don't you think
it's terribly interesting, Kim?"

           
"A
more tactless comment I have seldom heard," Dan said.

           
"What?"
Mairelon blinked,
then
looked from Dan to Kim for a
moment and back to Dan. "Oh, yes, I see what you mean. But even so--"

           
There was
a loud report from outside the window, and the coach jerked to a sudden and
unceremonious halt. For a moment, Kim was convinced that Jack Stower had fired
at something or someone; then she heard an all-too-familiar voice cry in
ringing tones, "Stand and deliver! In the name of the Four Holy
Things!"

           
"Jonathan
Aberford," Kim said, feeling stunned.
"That
bufflehead!"

           
"Oh,
Lord, not again," Mairelon said, rolling his eyes.

           
Laverham's
eyebrows rose.
"A holdup, in broad daylight?
On a country road going from nowhere to nowhere else?
It
seems unlikely, on the face of it."

           
Jack
Stower seemed to share Dan's opinion. "You're dicked in the nob,"
they heard him shout. "Mr. Laverham's in this coach!"

           
"Stand
and deliver!" Jonathan cried again. "Drop your weapons, or I
fire!"

           
"We've
stood, we've stood," Jack snarled.
"Now what?"

           
"An
excellent question," Mairelon murmured. "I wonder whether he's
thought of
it?
"

           
"If
this is some trick of yours--" Dan raised a pistol.

           
"It's
not a trick," Mairelon said. "It's a druid. In a manner of speaking,
that is. He's harmless, I think, unless he happens to have taken the notion
that highwaymen always shoot someone just to prove they're serious."

           
Before
Dan could respond, they heard a wordless yell, a horse's shrill, frightened
neigh, and the sounds of a scuffle outside. Dan leaned over and glanced out the
window. When he returned his gaze to Mairelon, his expression had not changed,
but there was an air of satisfaction about him. A moment later, Jack's face
appeared at the window. He was breathless, and there was a smear of mud across
his left cheek.

           
"We
got the rum padder, Mr. Laverham," Jack panted. "What d'you
want
us to do with him?"

           
"Kill
him," Laverham said.

           
"Right."
Jack smiled, showing crooked brown teeth.
"Now?"

           
Dan
nodded, then, as Jack turned to go, he frowned and said, "No, wait. Are
you"--he gestured at Mairelon with his pistol--"quite sure this
person is a druid?"

           
"Well,
you can see that he's not much of a highwayman," Mairelon said in a
reasonable tone. "It probably didn't even occur to him to bring a spare
pistol."

           
"It
don't
matter," Jack objected. "The cull tried to
pop the lot of us!"

           
"With only one pistol?"
Dan said. "I think
not. In any case, if this inept highwayman is a druid, he'll know where to look
for the platter once we get to the lodge. We'll bring him along."