Part 5 (1/2)

Gwen shrugged. ”Both sides are alike to me, my lord.”

”What do you think you are, a candidate? Okay, you disappear to the east, and I'll fade into the left. I keep trying, anyway.”

Gwen nodded, and squeezed his hand quickly before she sped off the road. Leaves closed behind her. Rod stayed a moment, staring north and wondering; then he turned to the underbrush, muttering, ”Head north about ten yards, Pess.”

The robot sprang into a gallop, and almost immediately turned off the road onto Rod's side.

The leaves closed behind him, and Rod turned to face the roadway, peering through foliage. He knelt, and let his body settle, breathing in a careful rhythm, watching the dust settle.

Then, around the curve of the roadway, they came-a dozen dusty peasants with small backpacks and haunted .

33 faces. They kept glancing back over their shoulders. The tallest of them suddenly called out, jerked to a halt. The others hurried back to him, calling over their shoulders to their wives, ”Go! Flee!” But the women hesitated, glancing longingly at the road south, then back at their husbands.

The men turned their backs and faced north, toward the enemy, each holding a quarterstaff at guard position, slant- wise across his body. The women stared at them, horrified.

Then, with a wail, one young wife turned, hugging her baby, and hurried away southward. The others stared after her; then, one by one, they began to shoo their children away down the road.

Then the men-at-arms strode into sight.

Rod tensed, thinking, ”Ready!” with all his force.

They wore brown leggings with dark green coats down to midthigh, and steel helmets. Each carried a pike, and a saffron badge gleamed on every breast. It was definitely a uniform, and one Rod had never seen before.

The soldiers saw the peasants, gave a shout, and charged, pikes dropping down level.

Rod thought the word with all his might, as he muttered it to Fess: ”Havoc!”

He couldn't have timed it better. Fess leaped out of the underbrush and reared, with a whinnying scream, just as the last soldiers pa.s.sed him. They whirled about, alarmed, as did most of their mates-and Rod leaped up on the roadway between peasants and soldiers, sword flickering out to stab through a shoulder, then leaping back out to dart at another footman even as the first screamed, staggering backward. Two soldiers in the middle of the band shot into the air with howls of terror, and slammed back down onto their mates, as a shower of rocks struck steel helmets hard enough to stagger soldiers, and send them reeling to the ground.

Rod threw himself into a full lunge, skewering a third soldier's thigh, as he shouted to the peasants, ”Now! Here's your chance! Fall on 'em, and beat the h.e.l.l out of 'em!”

Then a pike-b.u.t.t crashed into his chin and he spun back- ward, vision darkening and shot through with sparks; but a roar filled his ears and, as his sight cleared, he saw the 34 Christopher Stasheff 35 peasant men slamming into the soldiers, staves rising and falling with a rhythm of mayhem.

Rod gasped, and staggered back toward them; there was no need for killing!

Then another thought nudged through: they needed pris- oners, for information.

He blundered in among the peasants, took one quick glance at the remains of the melee, and gasped, ”Stop!

There's no need... They don't deserve...”

”Thou hast not seen what they've done,” the peasant next to him growled.

”No, but I intend to find out! Look! They're all down, and some of 'em may be dead already! Stand back, and leave them to me!”

A rough hand grasped his shoulder and spun him around.

”I' truth? And who art thou to command, thou who hast not lost blood to these wolves?”

Rod's eyes narrowed. He straightened slowly, and knocked the man's hand away with a sudden chop. It was ridiculous, and really shouldn't have made any difference to anybody- but it would work; it'd get their cooperation. ”I am the High Warlock, Rod Gallowgla.s.s, and it is due to my magic and my family's, that you men stand here victorious, instead of sprawling as buzzard's meat!”

He didn't have to add the threat; the man's eyes widened, and he dropped to one knee. ”Your pardon. Lord! I... I had not meant...”

”No, of course you didn't. How could you tell, when I'm dressed as a tinker?” Rod looked around to find all the peasants kneeling. ”All right, that's enough! Are you men or p.a.w.ns, that you must kneel? Rise, and bind these animals for me!”

”On the instant, milord!” The peasants leaped to their feet, and turned to begin las.h.i.+ng up the soldiers with their own belts and garters. Rod caught the belligerent one by the shoulder. ”How are you called?”

Apprehension washed his face, and he tugged at his forelock. ”Grathum, an it please thee, milord.”

Rod shrugged. ”Whether or not it pleases you, is a bit more important. Grathum, go after the women, and tell them the good news, will you?”

The man stared, realization sinking in. ”At once, your lords.h.i.+p!” And he sped away.

Rod surveyed the knot-tying party and, satisfied every- thing was well under way with the minimum of vengeful brutality, glanced up at the trees and thought. Wonderful, children! I'm a very proud daddy!

The branches waved slightly in answer. Rod could have bent his mind to it, and read their thoughts in return; but it still involved major effort for him, and he couldn't spare the concentration just now. But he turned toward the underbrush, and thought. Thanks, dear. It was nice to see you throwing somebody else's weight around for a change.

”As long as 'tis not thine, my lord? Thou art most surely welcome!”

Rod looked up, startled-that was her voice, not her mind. Gwen came marching up, with the women and chil- dren behind her. Grathum hurried on ahead, face one big apology. ”'Ere I could come unto them, milord, thy wife had brought word, and begun their progress back.”

She had obviously run the message on her broomstick; the wives were herding their children silently, with covert glances at her, and the children were staring wide-eyed.

Rod turned back to Grathum. ”Any more of these apes likely to be following you?”

The peasant shook his head. ”Nay, milord-none that we know of. There were more bands-but they chased after others who fled. Only these followed the high road, when we who escaped to it so far as this, were so few.”

”'Others who fled?'” Rod frowned, setting his fists on his hips. ”Let's try it from the beginning. What happened, Grathum? Start back before you knew anything was wrong.”

”Before... ?” The peasant stared at him. ” 'Tis some months agone, milord!”

”We've got time.” Rod nodded toward the north. ”Just in case you're worried, I've got sentries out.”

Grathum darted quick looks about him, then back at Rod, fearfully. Rod found it unpleasant, but right now, it was useful. ”Several months back,” he prompted, ”before you knew anything was wrong.”

”Aye, milord,” Grathum said, with a grimace. He heaved a sigh, and began. ”Well, then! 'Twas April, and we were 36 shackling our oxen to the plows for the planting, and a fellow hailed me from the roadway. I misliked his look- he was a scrawny wight, with a sly look about him-but I'd no reason to say him nay, so I pulled in my ox and strode up to the hedge, to have words with him.

'”Whose land is this?' he did ask me; and I answered, 'Why, o' course, 'tis the Duke of Romanov's; but my master, Sir Ewing, holds it enfeoffed from him.'

”'Nay,' quoth this wight, ' 'tis not his now, but the Lord Sorcerer Alfar's-and I hold it enfeoffed from him.'

”Well! At this I became angered. 'Nay, a.s.suredly thou dost not,' I cried. 'An thou dost speak such treason, no man would blame me!' And I drew back my fist, to smite him.”

Rod's mouth tightened. That sort of fit in with his overall impression of Grathum's personality. ”And what'd he do about it?”