The Warlock is Missing

Chapter 8

A little after sunrise, they came out of the forest into a meadow dotted with wildflowers. "How pretty!" Cordelia exclaimed; then, "Yon is a footpath!"

Off to their right, a dusty track wound down the slope toward the fields below.

"And people beyond it." Magnus squinted from his vantage point on Fess's back. "Eh, but they're awake betimes!"

"Country people rise before the sun," Fess informed them. "May I suggest the unicorn seek a more discreet route?"

"But why?" Cordelia cried.

Puck shook his head. "I must own the iron beast hath the right of it. Bethink thee, child, what mortal men, full grown, would seek to do with such a creature."

Cordelia stared, her eyes widening. "Surely thou dost not mean they would wish to enslave her!"

"Aye, certes they would—and would try to steal her from one another." Geoffrey smiled with tolerance for his sister's innocence. "And the creature might be slain in the fighting."

Cordelia leaped down from the unicorn's back as though it were a hot griddle. "Oh, I could not bear it!" She caught the great silver head between her hands and stroked the muzzle. "I could not bear to have thee hurted! Nay, my love, my jewel! Go thou, and hide thee! Be assured, we'll meet again when we come back to this forest."

But the unicorn tossed her head as though scorning danger.

"Nay, I beg of thee!" Cordelia pleaded. "Hide thee! Thou knowest not how vile some men may be!"

Puck smiled, with a cynicism that softened into fondness.

The unicorn gazed into Cordelia's eyes. Then she tossed her head, turning, and trotted back into the forest.

"Will I see her again, thinkest thou, Puck?"

"Who may say?" Puck said softly. "Such creatures are wild and free; no man may summon them, nor no young lass, neither. They come when they wish." He turned to smile up at

Cordelia. "Yet I think this one will wish it."

He turned away. "Now, come! Let's trace this track that thou hast found!"

They went down a slope glorious with blossoms. As they neared the bottom, they passed a stile, a set of stairs that went up one side of a wall and came down the other, so that people could cross, but cattle could not. A pretty peasant girl was leaning against the stile with a mocking smile, gazing up through half-lowered eyelashes at a young farmhand who stood, rigid with anger, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Nay, then, Corin," the peasant girl purred. "How durst thou think that I might spare a glance for one who's craven?"

Magnus and Geoffrey stopped to stare at the girl. "Why, she is beautiful," Magnus breathed.

Geoffrey swallowed heavily.

Cordelia looked at them as though they'd taken leave of their senses. So, for that matter, did Gregory.

"Craven?" Corin exploded. "Nay! I'm as brave as any man! Show me any foe, and I will fight him!"

"Foe?" she scoffed. "Nay, walk into the greenwood! Go into the hills! Stride down any highway! Thy foes will leap to meet thee—bandits, thieves, and outlaws! 'Tis come to be so bad as that! Any man who's restless, or hath an ounce of mettle, doth break the law, and runneth off to hide and thieve —and leaveth wife and children to the care of those dull males who have no daring!"

Puck had hidden in the heather near Magnus's foot, but the children could hear him growl, "Assuredly, 'tis never so bad as that!"

" 'Tis not a word of truth!" Corin bawled. " 'Tis not needful for a man to work evil, only because he's a man! Nay, there's strength required to stay and ward, and. care for those ye love!"

"Love?" the girl sneered. "I spit on that which you call love! Oh, caring there may be—but there's naught of thrill nor joy within it!"

Corin stepped toward her, hands outstretched, palms up. "If thou didst love me, thou wouldst see the error of thy words."

"An I did love thee," she spat, "I would needs be as dull as thou! Nay, how could I love a man who'd leave his wife and ' bairns in threat of pillaging?" >

"I would never do so!" Corin cried.

"Yet thou dost! Thou dost permit these bandits to roam wild throughout the hills! Thou dost give leave to highway-men to rob and beat whomsoe'er they please! Nay, no woman's safe to walk abroad now by herself! Within these two days gone, three lasses that I know have suffered, and a dozen men have run off to the hills. True men." Her eyes glittered as she looked directly into his. "Not mere boys."

"In only two days' time?" Puck snorted. "Such could never hap so quickly."

But Fess's voice sounded inside their heads: It could, if the High Warlock's enemies were fully prepared to accomplish such disorder, and were only waiting for his disappearance to unleash their agents.

Corin had reddened. "Thou dost wrong me, sweet Phebe! What could I do to halt them? At the least, I stay to guard the village!"

"And assuredly, thou wilt repel them when they come against us," she said with sarcasm.

"What else might I do?" he cried.

"Why, join the Shire-Reeve and march behind his banner! Go to fight for him, and capture or put down these outlaws who would prey on us! That is what thou mayest do—and might have, these three days past! Yet I misdoubt me an thou wilt, for there'd be danger! Only real men, who can conquer fear, will fight for him!"

Corin's face finned with resolution. He straightened, squaring his shoulders. "Thou dost wrong me, Phebe. I will go unto him straightaway—and thou shalt see how little I do fear!"

"Brave lad!" she cried, and leaped forward to seize his face and give him such a kiss as he had likely never had—a kiss both long and lasting; and, when she stepped back, he gasped for air, and seemed quite dazed.

"Go now," she cooed, "and show me what a man may earn!"

He nodded, not quite focusing, and turned away to drift on up the pasture lane between plowed fields, off toward the highway.

Phebe watched him go—and as she did, her face hardened, and her eyes glittered with contempt.

"And such, I doubt not, hath she done to half the lads of the village," Puck muttered, unseen.. "Kelly, go! Find near elves, and tell them to ask for news: Hath banditry truly begun so horribly in only two days' time? And discover, too, if other maids have done as she hath."

"I go," the leprecohen's voice crackled. "Begorra! If such as she taunts men to this Shire-Reeve's army, we'll know what to do with him!"

But Magnus was drifting toward Phebe, and Geoffrey was following as though an invisible string drew him.

Magnus cleared his throat. "Your pardon, but we have heard what thou hast said. Tell, we pray, who is this Shire-Reeve thou speakest of?"

Phebe whirled about in surprise, then smiled, amused. "Why, child! Knowest thou not what a reeve is?"

"Aye," said Magnus, " 'tis the man who doth tend to all the King's business in a district. A shire-reeve is one who doth take the King's taxes and levy low justice for a whole shire; and he must put down bandits if the barons do not."

"There! Thou didst know it, straightway," Phebe laughed. "Yet our Shire-Reeve is somewhat more—for look you, he is Reeve of Runnymede; and he hath seen that even in the King's own shire, Their Majesties cannot keep down bandits and highwaymen. Nay, even more—they cannot keep their kingdom in peace and order! Ever must the King's army be inarching and countermarching, trampling through the hard-grown crops and levying stores of provender that we peasant folk put by for winter, to be putting down rebellions, and those who would unseat Their Majesties from their thrones. In but the last two days the Counts of Llewellyn and Glynn have taken it into their heads to take more land into their counties —and have not thought it needful to ask a by-your-leave of Their Majesties! So they do call up all their knights, who call their peasants away from their fields, and this with the summer haying hard by, to go make war upon each other! And what do Their Majesties do, what?"

"I know not." Geoffrey gazed up at her, entranced. "What do they?"

"Why, naught, little one," she said, with a silvery laugh. "They do naught! And our good Shire-Reeve hath grown weary of such lawlessness. Nay, he hath risen up in righteous wrath, and hath declared that the King hath failed to govern. ' And, saith he, an the King will not wield the law to keep the peace, our Reeve will, himself! 'Tis for this he doth gather lads for his armed band—that he may, by force of arms, put down these bandits, and make the roads once again so safe that a woman may walk them alone. Already hath he sallied 'gainst an outlaw band and broken them—and daily do more young lads flock to his banner!"

"Small wonder," Cordelia muttered, "an they do encounter lasses like to thee!"

"Why 'tis glorious!" Geoffrey shouted. "Let us join with this Shire-Reeve! Let us, too, go forth to do battle with evil-doers and outlaws! Let it be said of us that we, too, did aid in restoring the peace!"

"I had not known it had fallen so badly," Cordelia said dryly.

"Only since Mama and Papa went away," Gregory reminded.

Magnus's gaze stayed glued to Phebe's face, but he gave his head a little shake and blinked. "Nay, tell me—what difference is there between what this Shire-Reeve doth and what the counts do? Is he not also making war, and disturbing the peace?"

Phebe frowned. "Oh, nay! He doth restore the peace!"

"By making battle?" Gregory asked.

Phebe's face darkened.

"I cannot help but think that he doth behave as badly as the counts," Magnus agreed. "Tell—doth he, too, not seek to increase the territory he doth govern? Doth he, too, not attempt to bring more villages under his sway?"

"He doth push farther and farther afield 'gainst the bandits, that's true," Phebe said, frowning. "Is this conquest?"

"Certes," Geoffrey said automatically, and Magnus said, "Battle is battle. The clash of arms and the toll of the dead is noise and destruction, whether it be thy Shire-Reeve who doth command, or the counts."

"I would rather have peace lost from armies than from bandits," Phebe declared hotly.

"I cannot like any man who fights our King and Queen," Cordelia declared, "no matter how the cause they claim doth glitter with goodness. He who fights not for Their Majesties, fights against the Law they seek to uphold." She turned to Geoffrey. "Join him? Nay, brother. If aught, thou shouldst join battle against him, and work his downfall."

Geoffrey frowned. "Dost thou truly think so?" He shrugged. "Well, then, as thou wilt. I'll not contest, when thou and Magnus do agree—the more especially when Greg-ory is of a mind with the two of thee."

Phebe gave a nasty laugh. "Hast thou no mind of thine own, then?"

"Only for matters that interest me. For affairs of state, I care not, so long as there be battle and glory within it. Nay, I'd as liefer fight against thy Shire-Reeve as for him."

Phebe laughed again, but in disbelief. "Nay, assuredly thou mayest do as thou wilt! Go, bear thy swords of lath against the Shire-Reeve! For what matter can mere children make, when armies clash?"

Cordelia's face darkened, and her chin came up. "Mayhap more matter than thou canst know, when those children are the High Warlock's brood."

Phebe stared. Then, slowly, she said, "Aye, they might, an they were such highborn children. Art thou truly they?"

Gregory tugged at Cordelia's skirt. "What is 'highborn'?"

"A deal of nonsense that grown folk speak," she answered impatiently.

"'Tis only the highborn who can think so." Phebe frowned, stroking the pouting fullness of her lower lip.

Abruptly, she seemed to come to a decision. Her face cleared, and she beamed down at the children. "Nay, surely, two fellows so brave as thyselves must needs strengthen any army! Wilt thou not, then, come with me to the Shire-Reeve?"

Her voice was velvet and silk; her heavily-lidded eyes seemed to glow into theirs. She stretched out a hand in welcome.

Magnus and Geoffrey stared at her, their eyes fairly bulging.

"Come, then," Phebe breathed, "for I am of his army, too."

Magnus took one wooden step toward her. So did Geoffrey.

"Nay!" Cordelia cried. "What dost thou? Canst not see the falseness in her?"

"Be still, small hussy," Phebe hissed.

But her brothers seemed not even to hear her. They moved toward Phebe—slowly, almost stumbling, but moving. She nodded in encouragement, eyes glowing.

Inside the children's heads, Fess's voice said, "Beware, Magnus, Geoffrey! The woman uses her beauty as she would use you!"

"Why, she cannot use us, if we fight willingly," Geoffrey muttered.

Gregory threw himself toward them, catching Geoffrey's hand. "What spell is this? Nay, turn! How hath she entranced thee?"

"Knowest thou not?" Phebe breathed. "Thou, too, art male, though very young. Wilt thou, too, not come to fight for the Shire-Reeve?"

"Nay, never!" Gregory stated. "What hast thou done?"

"Thou'lt learn when thou art older, I doubt not," Phebe said with scorn. "Away! Thou hast no worth yet! But thy brothers…" She gazed at the two elder boys, running the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. "They will come to me." She held out both hands. Gazing up at her, Magnus took one. Geoffrey took her other hand. Smiling in triumph, she turned away, strolling down the footpath with Magnus and Geoffrey to either side. She spared one quick, scornful glance back over her shoulder at Cordelia.

The forsaken sister clenched her fists. "Oh! The hussy! Quickly, Gregory! We cannot let her take our brothers!"

"But how can we stop them?" Gregory asked.

"I know not! Oh! What manner of witchcraft is this, that I have never heard of?"

"Nor never will, from the look of thee," Phebe called maliciously. But the path seemed to explode in front of her, and she pulled back with a cry of alarm.

"Puck," Magnus muttered.

Phebe cast him a quick look of horror, then stared at the elf in the pathway in front of her. "It cannot truly be!"

"Yet it is!" Puck leveled a finger at her. "And I adjure thee, witch, to break this spell! Release these boys, ere thou dost rue it!"

The threat seemed to restore Phebe a little. She straightened, looking down her nose at him. "What glamour is this!-There be no elves, nor any spirits! Thou mayest cease thine enchantment, child—I'll not believe it!" And she stepped forward on the pathway.

"Hold!" Puck's voice was a whiplash. "Ere I give thy body the semblance of thy soul, and make thy face the image of thy virtue!"

The girl blanched. "Thou couldst not truly!"

"Could I not, then?" The Puck's eyes glittered. "And art thou not the harpy who doth delight in tormenting men? What semblance wilt thou have, then?"

Slowly, Phebe's eyelids drooped, and her full lips curved into their smile. Magnus and Geoffrey stared up at her, spellbound, but her gaze was now for Puck. "Thou art male," she purred, "and great of spirit, though small of stature. Nay, then, canst thou not imagine my delights?"

Puck snorted in derision. "Nay, nor can I think thou hast any! What! Canst thou truly think thyself the equal of a fairy lady? But look into mine eyes, lass, and learn what charms may be!"

And she was looking into his eyes, of course, to try to cast her spell over him—but now she found that she could not break her gaze away.

"Now, regard," Puck said softly, coming closer. His eyes glittered as he sang,

"Golden slumbers kiss thine eyes! Do not wake till moon doth rise! Sleep, pretty wanton, do not cry, And I shall sing a lullaby! Rock her, rock her, lullaby!"

Her eyelids drooped, and kept on drooping. They closed, and she nodded, as Puck's voice went on in eldritch singing. Her head jerked up once, and she blinked, trying valiantly to stay awake—but Puck kept on singing, and her eyes closed. She sank to the ground, head pillowed on one arm, and her breast rose and fell with the slow, even rhythm of sleep.

Puck smiled down at her, gloating.

Then he turned to the two boys who stood staring dumbly down at the sleeping peasant maid, and clapped his hands in front of Magnus's face. "Waken! What! Wilt thou let a woman lead thee by the nose?"

Magnus's head snapped up as he suddenly came out of his trance.

Puck had already turned to Geoffrey. "Wake! For thou hast lost thy battle ere it began!"

Geoffrey's head whiplashed; then his eyes focused on Puck. "Battle? What fight is this?"

"Why, the struggle for thy will, my lad! What! Wilt thou let a woman lead thee into fighting for a man thou knowest to be evil?"

Geoffrey's gaze darkened. "Nay! Never would I!"

"Yet thou didst!" Cordelia came up. "Thou didst, and only Robin's rescue did save thee from it!"

Geoffrey turned to her, hot words upon his tongue; but Puck said, "Remember," and the boy froze, appalled as he suddenly remembered how he had let himself be caught.

Puck nodded, watching his face. "Aye. So easily wast thou mastered."

"It will never happen again!"

But Magnus, more carefully, said, "I pray not."

"Pray strongly, then—for any man may be caught by women's beauty, and few are the men who have not been. Yet not 'men,' neither, for that man is not a man, who may be so entranced by a woman that, at one sight of her, he doth forget all that he hath undertaken, all that he doth strive to do, all duty that remains. Nay, an he doth, then the woman hath mastered him—and how can he then be a man?"

But Cordelia had a gleam in her eye. "'Tis a power to be desired."

"Aye, for a lass—but 'tis one to be proof against, for a man. There be many good women, yet there be many also like to this Phebe, who will very willingly use their charms to govern men, an they can—so be not overly concerned with the pleasures they promise."

Cordelia frowned, looking as though she wasn't too sure she liked this line of talk. She couldn't really object to it, given the provisos Puck had stipulated; but she could set the record straight. "'Tis a foul slut, belike." She wasn't sure what a slut was, but she'd heard grown-ups use the term, and knew that it was an insult. "Yet though this Phebe hath a certain tawdry sort of prettiness, it cannot be the sole source of her power."

Puck agreed. "There's truth in that. She is a common milkmaid, look you, and, though she is attractive, I've seen far more beauteous women among the ranks of mortal females."

"Doubtless there is some element of the projective telepath in her, too," Fess said. "She is quite probably a minor witch, though she knows it not—an esper who can project her own thoughts effectively enough to hyponotize instantly. And, since she thinks her greatest strength is her physical attraction, her projective ability is naturally linked to it. Thus her effect on men is mesmerizing, both literally as well as figuratively."

"What doth he say?" Geoffrey asked.

"That she is an enchantress," Gregory summarized!

Geoffrey cast him a look of annoyance, but he couldn't argue.

"Yet surely she's enough a hazard so that the knight who rules this parish would stop her," Magnus insisted. "How cometh she to be yet free to work such havoc, Puck?"

"Why, for that she hath not begun it till two days agone," Puck sighed. "Bethink thee, lad—from what she said, this Shire-Reeve whom she doth support, did begin his work directly after thy mother and father went wandering. Ere he can stop her, the parish knight must learn how she doth turn young men away from his service—and how is he to find that out, when all she doth is chat with them?"

"But can he not see that she doth twist them to her purpose?" Cordelia protested.

"There's no law 'gainst that, and if there were, I doubt me not there'd be few weddings. Nay, lass—our goodly knight must needs decide that teasing can be treason—which thou dost know, since thou hast seen it; but grown men would have trouble crediting it."

"Aye," Cordelia said. "They are puffed up with importance. How could they deign to notice so small a thing? It would quite make them seem much smaller than they wish to be."

Puck eyed her with a new respect. "Thou wilt be most dangerous, when thou art grown. Yet thou hast the right of it—men who are surfeited with their own importance, scarce can bring themselves to acknowledge things so small as jests and rumors. That's the reason whispers are so hard to guard against, and thus can do great damage."

Geoffrey frowned. "I do begin to comprehend. Papa hath told me that rumor can bring down armies."

"This may be one reason," Puck agreed. "Another is that within the featherbed of rumor, there's ofttimes a pea of truth, and who can tell what is and is not false? What proof is there that this Shire-Reeve doth not work for Their Majesties, and for the kingdom's good? Only what we ourselves have heard from this wench."

"And how could the knight credit what she doth say?" Cordelia murmured. "She's but a milkmaid, and she speaks against the King's Reeve."

Puck nodded. "Thus, how's the knight to know the Shire-Reeve will speak him false? Or that thou wouldst speak truly?"

"Aye." Magnus's mouth tightened. "We're but children, and she and the Reeve are grown-ups."

"Yet wilt thou do better when thou art grown?" Puck asked.

"Be sure, I will!" Geoffrey stated. "Children or milkmaids, high or low, I'll hearken to them all, and give full thought to all I hear!"

Puck nodded, satisfied. "Now thou dost begin to comprehend. AH folk must be allowed to speak their minds, whether thou dost think them wise or foolish—and thou must weigh what they do say, on chance that the most unlikely of them may be right. Therefore thou must needs see it enshrined in the highest Law of the Land, as thy father doth seek to do. If thou dost not, evil men may keep good folk from learning of their evil deeds."

"Why, how shall they do that?" Magnus questioned.

"By punishing all who speak against them in even the slightest way," Puck explained. "If thou dost let the law prohibit certain words, then evil men will punish folk that they dislike, by claiming they did speak the words prohibited."

"So." Magnus frowned down at Phebe. "Much though we dislike what she hath done, we must not bind her over to the knight?"

"Nay, that thou mayest do—but thou canst not forbid her to speak, even though thou dost know that she will lie, and claim she did naught of what thou sayest. Thou must needs prove she did as thou dost say."

"Which we cannot, of course." Magnus's mouth tightened. "Yet is there naught we can do to keep her from working her havoc, Puck?"

"Why, warn all the lads of the village about her, of course." Puck grinned. "And if they do heed thee, she'll have naught to do but rage."

"If," Cordelia said, darkly. "Can we do naught with her, then?"

Puck shrugged. "Leave her, and let her sleep. Come, children—let us seek out her commander."

"The Shire-Reeve?" Geoffrey grinned. "Nay, then! We'll have battle from him, one way or another!"

"Where does this Shire-Reeve quarter, then?"