The Warlock is Missing

Chapter 15

The children made their way through the forest, unnaturally quiet, the thought of the false Geoffrey weighing on all their minds.

Suddenly, Fall popped up next to Cordelia's knee. "There's one who doth ask for thee."

They all stared at her.

Then Cordelia found her voice. "For me?"

"For all of thee. He is of a size with thee, little lady, and hath wandered into the wood unaccompanied."

"A boy?" Magnus and Geoffrey exchanged puzzled glances. "Who could be seeking us?"

"What name hath he?" Cordelia asked.

"His name is Alain, and he doth say he is a prince."

"Alain!" Cordelia clapped her hands, and the boys grinned. "Oh, bring him! Bring him!"

Fall smiled, relaxing. "Well, if thou dost know him. Elves unseen hath led him toward thee for a day now—he did first seek thee some leagues away, near Runnymede."

The children looked at one another, wide-eyed. "Why, that cannot be far from the Royal Palace!"

"'Tis even so," Fall agreed. "He did sit 'neath a pine, calling, 'Wee folk, come and aid!' And they saw 'twas but a child, so they came near, yet not too near, and showed themselves, asking, 'What aid dost thou seek?' And he bade the elves take him to thee. Yet they would not, without thy consent; for aught we knew, he might have been thine enemy."

"Nay, he is our friend! Or as close to one as we have." Witch-children didn't find many playmates. "Wilt thou bring him to us?"

"Assuredly, an thou dost ask it." Fall ducked away, and Summer followed her.

"'Tis most dangerous for a prince to be abroad alone," Magnus said, frowning. "Doth he not know his father's ene-mies could seize him and hold him hostage, to threaten the King?"

"Alain doth not think of such things," Geoffrey said, with some assurance; he'd spent enough time scrapping with the prince to know him pretty well.

"Yet assuredly, his bodyguards do! How have they permitted him to wander by himself?"

Geoffrey grinned. "I misdoubt me an they permitted him."

None of the children wondered why Alain was looking for them. After all, who else did he have to play with? His own brother was smaller than Gregory.

The boy came around a huge oak tree, following the two fairies who skipped before him. He wore a flat, round cap, leather breeches tucked into his boots, and a surcoat of stout green broadcloth; but the waistcoat beneath it was of gold brocade, and his shirt was of silk.

"Alain!" Cordelia squealed.

The prince looked up, saw her, and his face burst into a grin of delight. He ran toward them.The fairies dodged out of his way. He threw his arms around Cordelia, crying, "'Tis so good to see thee!" Then he whirled away to pump Magnus's hand. Geoffrey stepped up to throw him a companionable punch in the arm. Alain spun with a left hook that sent Geoffrey sprawling. He leaped up and waded in, fists clenched and grinning, but Magnus stepped between them. "Nay!"

" 'Tis but in good friendship," Geoffrey protested.

"Aye," Alain agreed. "How else do two warriors greet one another?"

"With raised visors and courtly bows! Blows arouse tempers, and spoil friendships!"

Geoffrey made a rude noise. Magnus glared at him.

Gregory tugged at Alain's arm. "Where is Diarmid?"

"At home, with our mother," Alain explained. "Father bade me also to bide with her, but I could not stand it."

"Even so," Geoffrey sympathized. "'Tis hard, when battles are brewing."

"Oh, aye, but an 'twere naught but that, I'd never have disobeyed him."

"He is, after all, thy liege as well as thy father," Magnus agreed. "What matter's of great enough moment to bring thee out 'gainst his command?"

"And why dost thou seek us?" Geoffrey crowded in. " 'Tis not as though 'twere playtime."

"'Tis not, in truth," Alain agreed, "but I know not to whom else I may turn. I am greatly afeard for my father." Suddenly, he looked very serious, even somber. Nothing had changed in the way he stood, but the children were somehow reminded that he was a prince.

"We can do but little," Magnus hedged. "We are not, after all, our parents."

"Yet what power we do own, is thine!" Geoffrey avowed. "What moves, Highness? Wherefore is thy sire in such straits?"

Alain looked from one to the other of them, and his eyes glowed with gratitude; but he said only, "The barons have risen in chaos, brawling and warring against one another like drunken serfs on a feast-day. Father hath marched out to pack them singly home."

Geoffrey scowled, and Magnus asked, "Do their dukes naught to bring them to heel?"

Alain shook his head. "And 'tis in my mind that they do let their vassals test the King for them, ere they do commit their own armies."

"And their sons," Geoffrey reminded. "Thy father doth still hold the heirs of the twelve great lords as hostages, doth he not?"

Alain wrinkled his nose. "Aye, and a noisome lot they are, forever swilling up ale and pestering the serving-wenches— and brawling amongst themselves."

The children nodded, without saying anything; they had understood for some time that Alain's friendly feelings toward them had a lot to do with the quality of the only alternatives available. "The dukes act prudently, then," Geoffrey said, "yet mayhap not wisely."

"Aye," Alain agreed. "This is their chance to gain Father's trust again, they who rebelled against him so long ago…"

(It was thirteen years.)

"… yet they will not. Nay, he'll never trust them more, when he hath won through." The prince's face darkened, and the children knew what he was thinking without reading his mind—if his father won.

"But there's no question that thy father will win!" Geoffrey cried. "They are only counts. A King with a royal army should have little trouble with them!"

"Aye," Alain agreed, "yet there's this upstart of a Shire-Reeve."

The children stared.

Then Magnus frowned. "Surely a Shire-Reeve cannot be greater trouble than a count!"

"This one may be," Alain said. "He hath gathered an army in but a few days' space."

Geoffrey glanced at Magnus. "This must have begun ere our parents were taken."

Alain stared. "I had heard thy parents were stolen, and it did grievously trouble Their Majesties—but how is't thou hadst already heard of the Shire-Reeve?"

"We did meet with a peasant wench who did taunt a plow-boy 'til he did march off to join the Shire-Reeve," Magnus explained.

"She did nearly bewitch Magnus and Geoffrey into a-joining with him, too," Gregory piped up.

Geoffrey flushed and turned to swat his little brat, but Cordelia blocked his swing. "Aye, they would most gleefully have marched away with her!"

"Praise Heaven they did not!" Alain went pale at the mere thought of the Shire-Reeve with the powers of Magnus and Geoffrey behind him.

"Nay, praise Puck—for he did break her spell," Cordelia informed him. "Be sure, she was a witch of a sort." She turned to her brothers. "Do not regard me so darkly—there's no shame in being enchanted!"

But Magnus said only, "There is," and turned back to Geoffrey. "I should not think a mob of plowboys would trouble thy father—they are raw, untrained in battle."

"They have already fought with three counts, and have won," Alain said grimly, "and many soldiers from those defeated bands were eager to join with the Shire-Reeve. Nay, he hath an army as large as Father's now, though not so well-trained or experienced

"And certes not so well led!" Geoffrey affirmed. It wasn't flattery—King Tuan was an excellent general.

"My thanks," Alain said with a bow, "and I own, I would not be concerned were it but a matter of the Shire-Reeve—but five counts have marched up behind Father's army."

Geoffrey stared; then he frowned. "'Tis odd that five should act together, when they have but lately been battling one another."

"It is, in truth," Alain concurred. "Yet I have heard Father say that many of the noblemen have taken seneschals, whom he did not like, and I think they may have counseled their counts."

The Gallowglass children exchanged glances. 'Tis those minions of SPITE that Father hath told us of, Magnus thought.

Aye, yet he did not know that they had come as seneschals, Geoffrey answered.

Mayhap he did, but did not tell us, Gregory added.

They shared a moment of indignation at the thought that their father might not keep them up-to-date on matters of state.

Then Geoffrey turned to Alain. "Still, though, these counts are little threat, unless by hap they all attack together, and that when thy father's engaged in battle with this Shire-Reeve."

"Even so," Alain said, "yet that is just what I fear."

Gregory nodded. "The King is, after all, the greatest stumbling-block in each one's path. An he were defeated, each could seek to enlarge his own demesne without let or hindrance."

"Save for their dukes," Alain said darkly, "and if Father were…" he swallowed. "… if Father were gone, the great lords most probably would whip their vassals right smartly into their places."

"Aye, then march 'gainst each other," Magnus said, frowning, "and make one great turmoil out of our fair land."

"And whiles they were battling one another, the Shire-Reeve would no doubt serve them as he would have served the King," Geoffrey added "battling one, while another doth attack from the rear—and, by the time the dukes did band against him, his army would have grown too great to defeat."

"The fools!" Magnus cried. "Do they not see that, if they aid him now, this Reeve will presently reave them, one by one?"

Alain stared. "Dost thou think he doth seek the throne?"

"I am certain of it."

"Yet how can he?" Alain protested. "He is of common birth, scarcely a gentleman!"

"He doth see no bar in that," Magnus said. "Nay, for such an one, that is all the more reason to seek to rule!"

Alain's eyes narrowed; his face darkened. "'Tis a vile churl, then, and doth deserve to be drawn and quartered!"

Magnus nodded. "Such an one could rend this land asunder—for even an he did win to the throne, ever would barons rise up against him; they could never respect his right, sin that he hath not royal blood!"

"Nor would any man honor him," said Cordelia, "for each commoner would think, 'He is lowborn, and hath won to the throne; wherefore should not I?' And one after another would rise up to challenge him."

"The country would ever be rent in warfare," Alain groaned. "Never would there be peace!"

"Yet that is just as this Shire-Reeve's masters do wish," little Gregory said.

Alain stared. "What! How is this? Doth this miscreant have a master?"

The Gallowglasses exchanged glances. "We cannot know that…" Magnus hedged.

"Yet thou dost suspect it! Nay, tell me! To withhold thy good conjecture would be treason!"

"Only an we guessed truly," Magnus sighed. "Yet we have cause to think this Shire-Reeve was set up by enemies of Papa, who do seek to plunge this whole land of Gramarye into chaos."

Alain frowned. "Father hath never spoken of such."

"Papa may not have spoken to him of it," Cordelia explained. "He is loathe to speak until he is certain."

I would not quite say that is accurate, Fess's voice said in the Gallowglasses' minds.

But Alain couldn't hear him, of course. He shook his head. "He should never withhold such suspicion—yet I can comprehend it; Father would tell Mother, and she is forever fretting about troubles that may come, but do not."

"Yet the trouble hath come indeed," Geoffrey said, "and we do know of our own that Papa hath enemies of another sort—ones who do wish to steal thy parents' thrones, and rule Gramarye more harshly than ever they have."

Alain stared. "Assuredly thy father must have spoken to Their Majesties of this—he must needs be certain of it!"

"Mayhap he hath," Magnus said quickly, "but thy father hath not yet seen fit to tell thee. We all are yet young."

"Mayhap," Alain agreed; but he glowered at the thought.

"Yet here's a quandary," Cordelia interjected. "Did we not,'t'other night, hear one of those men say that the Shire-Reeve was one of their vassals?"

The children stared at one another.

Then Gregory nodded. "Aye, they did say so."

"In point of fact," Fess reminded them, "they did not say it; Cordelia read it in their leader's mind. Her exact words were, I believe, 'Their thoughts leapt to the Shire-Reeve; he hath been their man for many years, and they have told him exactly what they wished him to do when the chance came.'"

The children didn't quibble; they knew Fess always remembered everything exactly as it happened—Papa had used him to give evidence in family quarrels often enough.

Alain frowned. "Yet how can that be? Didst thou not but now tell me the Shire-Reeve did have support from men who wished no rule at all?"

"We did," Magnus verified, "and so we did believe. How now, my sibs? How can the man fight for both sides?"

"Why, by fighting for neither!" Geoffrey cried in excite-ment. "He lets each believe he's their man—but in truth, he fights only for himself!"

"Aye!" Alain caught his enthusiasm. "He doth play a dou-ble game, doth play them off 'gainst one another!"

Geoffrey nodded, eyes glowing. "They believe they use him—but he truly seeks to use them, taking support from each, yet plotting in private to cut out both, root and branch, as soon as he doth have power!"

"The very thing!" Cordelia concurred. "He could quite eas-ily deceive those who seek chaos, for he doth seem to be only one more ambitious fool, seeking to gain land by battle—and his ambitions are so great that he could equally deceive those who seek to rule all the land, and with an iron fist!"

"Yet in truth," Magnus agreed, "he doth seek to gain the throne, not mere rule, and to beget kings—and this by deceit and craft, as much as by force of arms."

Alain was trembling. "Of such stuff are kings made, I fear —though very evil kings."

"This one shall not be a king," Geoffrey avowed. "Not of any sort."

Gregory chirped, "Have we found our Great Nasty?"