Part 16 (1/2)
Rod winced. ”All right, already! I'll go for the content, and stop worrying about the form.”
”Then you would make a very poor critic....”
”Oh, shut up and head off the coach.”
Fess swerved in front of the coach horses, and the animals reared, screaming with fright. The woman hit the brake with frantic strength, then lashed out with the whip at Rod.
”Hey!” He ducked, but too late; the lash cracked against the side of his head. The roadway tilted and circled, blurring; distantly, he heard the whip crack, again and again. Then the world levelled, and he began to see clearly. The familiar 702 rage surged up in him. Appalled, he tried to remember her fear. The woman stood on the box, brandis.h.i.+ng the whip for one more try.
Rod held up a palm. ”Whoa! Hold it! I'm on your side!”
He pointed to his chest. ”No uniform. See?”
The woman hesitated, but anger and fear still held her eyes wide.
Rod was working hard to stifle a huge flood of anger of his own; his head ached abominably. ”You wouldn't hit a poor, wandering tinker, would you?”
”Aye, if he threatened me or mine.” But sanity began to return to the woman's eyes. ”And why would a poor tinker stop a n.o.ble Lady, if not to harm her?”
”To tell you, you can stop running!” Rod cried. ”We knocked out your enemies!”
The woman stood frozen, but hope flared in her eyes.
Rod pointed back along the road. ”Take a look, if you doubt me!”
She darted a quick glance back up the road, then glanced again. She turned back to him, joy beginning to flower in her face. Then her knees gave way, and she collapsed onto the box. ”Praise Heaven! But how didst thou...”
”I had a little help,” Rod explained.
She was instantly on her guard again. ”From whom?”
”My wife,” Rod explained, ”and my children.”
She stared. Then weariness filled her face. ”I see them; they pick the corpses of the soldiers. Do not lie to me, fellow. How could a tinker and his bairns and wife, fare against an armored knight and a dozen soldiers?” She hefted the whip again.
”Now, hold on!” Rod felt his anger mounting again, too.
He took a deep breath, and tried to remember that the poor woman had been chased for most of the night-probably.
”My wife and kids aren't robbing bodies-they're trying to break the enchantments that bind living men. Uncon- scious, but living-I hope. You see, we're not quite what we seem to be.”
”Indeed,” she hissed between her teeth, and forced her- self to her feet again, swinging the whip up. ”So I had thought!”
”Not that way! This tinker outfit is just a disguise!” Rod 103.
straightened in the saddle, squaring his shoulders. ”I am Rodney Gallowgla.s.s, Lord High Warlock of Gramarye- and that woman back there is the Lady Gwendylon.”
She stared. Then her lips parted, and she whispered, ”Give me a sign.”
”A sign?” Exasperated, Rod bit down on his irritation and forced himself to imagine just how paranoid he'd be feeling in her place. He took another deep breath, expelled it. ”Oh, all right!” Rod closed his eyes and let his mind go blank, concentrating. His usual haze of needs and respon- sibilities seemed to ebb and clear, till he could hear his children's voices, as though they were right next to him.
He singled out the one who looked least threatening and thought, Gregory! Come here!
Air popped outward, and Gregory floated next to his shoulder. ”Aye, Papa?”
The woman stared.
Then her knees gave way again, and she sat down, nod- ding weakly. ”Aye. Thou art the High Warlock.”
”Papa?” Gregory c.o.c.ked his head to the side, frowning up at his father. ”Why didst thou call?”
”For what you just did, son.”
The child stared. ”What did I?”
”You proved I'm what I said I was.” He turned back to the woman. ”And whom have I the pleasure of addressing?”
Now it was her turn to pull herself together and remember her dignity. ”I am Elyena, d.u.c.h.ess of Romanov.”
7 Rod steered the tottering horses off the road and into the meadow near Gwen, holding up the d.u.c.h.ess with his left arm. As he pulled them to a halt, she raised her head, looking about, then crowded closer to him. ”The soldiers...”
Rod turned, and saw all the soldiers gathered in a knot under a low tree. Most of them held their heads in their hands. Some had lifted their gazes and were looking around, blinking, their faces drawn and uncertain. The knight lay by them with his helmet off. Gwen knelt over him.
”Don't worry,” Rod said, trying to sound rea.s.suring.
”They feel as though they've just awakened from a bad dream. They're on your side again.” He jumped down from the box. ”Just stay there.”
She did, huddling into herself-and not looking at all rea.s.sured.
Rod sighed, and thought sharply, Cordelia!
The little girl leaped up halfway across the meadow and looked around. She located her father and jumped on her broomstick, zooming straight over to him. ”Aye, Papa?”
Rod noticed the d.u.c.h.ess staring. Well, at least she was distracted. ”Cordelia, this lady needs...”
But Cordelia was staring past him, toward the windows 104.
105.
of the coach, and a delighted grin curved on her lips. ”Chil- dren!”
Rod turned, suprised.
Two little faces filled one of the windows, looking about with frank curiousity.
Cordelia skipped past Rod, hands behind her back. The d.u.c.h.ess's children watched her warily. Cordelia stopped right below them and c.o.c.ked her head to the side. ”I am hight Cordelia.”
They didn't answer; they just stared.
Rod touched her shoulder. ”They've been having some bad scares lately, honey.”