Part 17 (1/2)
”Well, yes-but you haven't really told them the bad parts,” Rod said judiciously. ”For all they know, their fa- ther's winning the battle. And can you really say he didn't?”
”Nay,” she said, as though it were forced from her. ”Yet I did not flee till I looked down from the battlements, and saw that the melee had begun to go against him-even as we had feared.” Then she buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders heaved with sobbing. Gwen clucked over her, comforting, and Rod had the good taste to keep quiet until the d.u.c.h.ess had regained some measure of control over herself. She lifted her head, gazing out over the meadow with unseeing eyes. ”When first the reeves began to bring us tales of villages suborned, we dismissed them with laugh- ter. Who could come to rule a village, whiles its knight stood by to s.h.i.+eld it? Yet the first tale was followed by a second, and a second by a third, then a fourth, then a fifth- and ever was it the same: that a sorcerer had made the people bow to him. Then it was a witch who forced the homage, with the sorcerer's power supporting her; then a warlock.”
”How'd they do it?” Rod asked. ”Did the reeves know?”
The d.u.c.h.ess shook her head. ”They had heard only ru- mors of dire threats, and of bams bursting into flame, and kine that sickened and fell. Yet for the greater part, there had been only surliness and complaining from the peasants, complaining that swelled louder and louder. Then the witch or warlock stepped amongst them, and they turned with joyful will to bow to him or her, and the sorcerer whose power lay 'neath. My lord did bid one of his knights to ride about his own estates, and visit the villages therein. The knight returned, and spoke of peasant mobs that howled in 109.
fury, brandis.h.i.+ng scythes and mattocks, and hurling stones.
When he charged, they broke and ran; yet when he turned away, eftsoons they gathered all against him once again.”
Her mouth hardened. ”Thus were they bid, I doubt not.”
”Sudden, rabid loyalty.” Rod glanced at Gwen. ”Would you say they didn't really seem to be themselves? The peas- ants, I mean.”
”Nay, a.s.surdly not!” The d.u.c.h.ess shuddered. ”They were as unlike what they had been, as Maytime is from winter.
Such reports angered milord, but not greatly. They angered his va.s.sal, the Baron de Gratecieux, far more; for, look you, the greater part of Milord Duke's revenues was yielded to him by his counts, who gained theirs from their barons. Yet the barons gain theirs from their knights.”
Rod nodded. ”So a knight's village resisting payments is a little more serious to the baron than to his duke.”
The d.u.c.h.ess nodded too. ”He did implore Milord Duke for arms and men, which my lord did give him gladly. Then rode the Baron 'gainst the sorcerer.”
She fell silent. Rod waited.
When she didn't go on. Rod asked, ”What happened?”
The d.u.c.h.ess shuddered. ”Eh, such reports as we had were horrible, in truth! The Baron's force did meet with a host of magics-fell creatures that did pounce from the air, fireb.a.l.l.s and rocks that appeared among them, hurtling; arrows that sped without bows or archers, and war-axes and maces that struck without a hand to bear them. Then peasant mobs did charge upon them, howling and striking with their sickles. Yet far worst of all was a creeping fear, a sense of horror that overcame the Baron's soldiers, till they broke and ran, screaming hoa.r.s.ely in their terror.”
Rod met Gwen's eyes, and her words sounded in his ears alone: / count a witch-moss crofter, and the warlock who doth hurl stones 'mongst us; and there be witches who do make the weapons fly. Yet what's this creeping horror?
Rod could only shake his head. He looked down at the d.u.c.h.ess again. ”What happened to the Baron?”
The d.u.c.h.ess shuddered. ”He came not home; yet in later battles, he has been seen-leading such soldiers as lived, against the sorcerer's foes.”
110 Rod caught Gwen's eye again; she nodded. Well, they'd met that compulsive hypnosis already. ”How many of the soldiers survived?”
”There were, mayhap, half a dozen that lived to flee, of the threescore that marched to battle.”
Rod whistled softly. ”Six out of sixty? This sorcerer's efficient, isn't he? How many of the defeated ones were following Baron de Gratecieux in the next battle?”
The d.u.c.h.ess shrugged. ”From the report we had-may- hap twoscore.”
”Forty out of sixty, captured and brainwashed?” Rod shuddered. ”But some got away-the six you mentioned.”
”Aye. But a warlock pursued them. One only bore word to us; we know not what happened to the other five.”
”It's a fair guess, though.” Rod frowned. ”So right from the beginning, Alfar's made a point of trying to keep word from leaking out.” Somehow, that didn't smack of the me- dieval mind. ”You say you learned this afterwards?”
The d.u.c.h.ess nodded. ”It took that lone soldier a week and a day to win home to us.”
”A lot can happen in a week.”
”So it did. The sorcerer and his coven marched against the Castle Gratecieux; most of the household acclaimed Alfar their suzerain. The Baroness and some loyal few ob- jected, and fought to close the gates. They could not prevail, though, and those who did acclaim the sorcerer their lord, did ope the gate, lower the drawbridge, and raise the port- cullis.”
Rod shrugged. ”Well, if they could make whole villages switch allegiance, why not a castleful?”
”What did the sorcerer to the Baroness?” Gwen asked, eyes wide.
The d.u.c.h.ess squeezed her eyes shut. ”She doth rest in the dungeon, with her children-though the eldest was wounded in the brawling.”
Gwen's face hardened.
”How did you leam this?” Rod tried to sound gentle.
”Servants in Gratecieux's castle have cousins in my kitch- ens.”
”Servants' network.” Rod nodded. ”So Alfar just took 111.
over the castle. Of course, he went on to take over the rest of the manor.”
”Such villages as did not already bow to him, aye. They fell to his sway one by one. At last, the other barons did take alarm, and did band together to declare war upon him.”
”Bad tactics.” Rod shook his head. ”The h.e.l.l with the declaration; they should've just gone in, and mopped him up.”
The d.u.c.h.ess stared, scandalized.
”Just an idea,” Rod said quickly.
The d.u.c.h.ess shook her head. ”'Twould have availed them naught. They fought a sorcerer.”
Rod lifted his head slowly, eyes widening, nostrils flar- ing. He turned to Gwen. ”So he's got people thinking they can't win, before they even march. They're half defeated before they begin fighting.”
”Mayhap,” the d.u.c.h.ess said, in a dull voice, ”yet with great ease did he defeat the barons. A score of sorcerer's soldiers did grapple with the barons' outriders, on the left flank. The scouts cried for a rescue, and soldiers ran to aid them. The sorcerer's men withdrew; yet no sooner had they vanished into the forest, than another band attacked the vanguard of the right flank. Again soldiers ran to bring aid, and again the sorcerer's men withdrew; and, with greater confidence, the barons' men marched ahead.”
Even hearing the story. Rod felt a chill. ”Too much con- fidence.”
The d.u.c.h.ess nodded, and bit her lip. ”When they came within sight of Castle Gratecieux, a wave of soldiers broke upon them from the forest. At t'other side of the road, rocks began to appear, with thunder-crashes, and also from that side came a swarm of thrown stones-yet no one was there to throw them. The soldiers recoiled upon themselves, then stood to fight; yet they fell in droves. Three of the five barons fought to the last with their men, and were lost. The other two rallied mayhap a score, and retreated. The sor- cerer's army pressed them hard, but well did they defend themselves. Naetheless, a half of the men fell, and one of the barons with them. The other half won through to the High Road, whereupon they could turn and flee, faster than 112 the sorcerer's men could follow. A warlock followed them, and rocks appeared all about them; yet he grew careless and, of a sudden, an archer whirled and let fly. The arrow pierced the warlock, and he tumbled from the sky, scream- ing. Then away rode the baron and his poor remnant-and thus was the word brought to us. And I a.s.sure thee, mine husband did honor that archer.”
”So should we all,” Rod said. ”It always helps, having a demonstration that your enemy can be beaten. Didn't your husband take these rumors of danger seriously before then?”
”Nay, not truly. He could not begin to believe that a band of peasants could be any true danger to armored knights and soldiers, even though they were witches. Yet when the Baron Marole stood before him and told him the account of his last battle, my lord did rise in wrath. He summoned up his knights and men, and did send his fleetest courier south, to bear word of all that had happed to Their Royal Majesties.”
Rod frowned. ”He sent a messenger? How long ago?”
The d.u.c.h.ess shrugged. ”Five days agone.”
Rod shook his head. ”He should have been in Runnymede before we left.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes widening, haunted. ”He did not come.”