Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

TO MY READERS

This isn't a new book.

But it isn't an old book, either.

Let me tell you how it happened…

Back in 1970, when King Kobold was first published, I waited with bated breath to see what the critics thought of it—and was rather disheartened to find they weren't exactly overwhelmingly enthusiastic. That's when I decided I shouldn't pay too much attention to the critics.

Unfortunately, I couldn't ignore Lester del Rey. I had always admired his perspicacity and penetrating insight (i.e., he always agreed with my opinion about new books. Please understand that, at the time, I had never met him.).

When del Rey said, "It isn't a bad book, if you don't expect too much of the evening spent with it," I knew I was in trouble. Worse, letters began arriving—

and they agreed with del Rey! And though del Rey had been gentle and charitable, the fans felt no such need for restraint.

So, when the good people at Ace indicated an interest in reissuing King Kobold, I said, "Not until I rewrite it!"

Please remember, I'd had twelve years to mull over the flaws of the original, and figure out how to fix them. There were some changes that I knew I definitely wanted to make, and quite a few others that I was thinking about.

So the book you hold in your hand is not the product of a publisher who tried to Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html jazz things up to hype sales; it's the result of a mulish writer who refused to go through having fans call him nasty names again. If you bought the original King Kobold fourteen years ago and misplaced your copy-sorry, this ain't quite the same book you read back then. And, if you never did read King Kobold (an offense I will overlook only if you were too young to read), this ain't the plot you've been hearing about. Better, I hope, but not the same. If your favorite scenes are missing—well, sorry. Or, worse yet, your favorite character—well, I'm even sorrier; but I just don't think he really worked (not "she"—she was a total nonentity, and I don't see how anybody could miss her—except maybe

"him"). All in all, I'm pretty satisfied with this revised version; it's still essentially the same story, but I think it's much more solid, and a much better read (all right, so I haven't cut out all the lousy jokes). Besides, if you really liked it better the other way—well, there's always the original edition. You'll have to search a little to find a copy, but if you'd rather read it, you can.

Thank you all, for pestering your bookstores for King Kobold, and bringing it out of hiding again. Here it is, the same story—what happened to Rod and Gwen when they'd only been married a few years, and only had one baby warlock to contend with. I hope you enjoy it. I did.

—Christopher Stashef f Montclair State College October 4,

Prologue

"Sorrowful it was, and great cause for Mourning, that so young a King should die, and that in his Bed; yet Death doth come to all, yea, the High and the lowly alike, and 'tis not by our choosing, but by God's. Thus is was that King Richard was taken from us in the fourteenth year of his Reign, though he had not yet seen Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html forty-five summers; and great lamentation passed through the land. Yet must Life endure, and the motion of it never doth cease, so that we laid him to rest with his ancestors, and turned our faces toward our new Sovereign, his daughter Catharine, first Queen of that name to Reign, though it had been scarcely twenty years since her birth.

"Then the Lords of this land of Gramarye sat them down in Council, and rose up to advise the young Queen of her actions, and at their head stood the Duke Loguire, time-honored and revered, foremost of the Lords of this Land, and Uncle to the Queen. Yet she would not hearken to him, nor to any of her Lords, but set her face toward the doing of things as she saw them, and would not heed Council. And what she wished done, she set in the hands of the Dwarf Brom O'Berin, who had come to the Court as her father's Jester, but King Richard had raised him to Chancellor; and Queen Catharine ennobled him. This did affront all the Peers of the Land, that she should set a Dwarf in their midst, and he baseborn, for she would trust none among them.

"Then did Loguire send his younger son Tuan, who long had courted Catharine ere her Father died, to beg of her that she plight him her Troth, and come with him to the Altar to become his Wife. And she called this foul treason, that he should seek the Crown under guise of her Hand, and banished him from the land, and set him adrift in a coracle, that the East wind might take him to the Wild Lands, to dwell among Monsters and BeastMen, though all of his crime was the love of her. Then was his father full wroth, and all the Lords with him; but Loguire held his hand, and so, perforce, must they all; but Tuan his son swam back to the shore, and stole within the Land again, by night, and would not be exiled.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"Then did Catharine the Queen meet with her great Lords all, in her great Hall in Runnymede, and did say unto them, 'Lo, it seemeth thou dost take boys from the plow, who know neither Letters nor Holiness, and doth set them above thy people as priests, that they may more certainly do thy bidding; and know that such practice doth offend the Lord God, and affronteth thy Queen; wherefore, henceforth, I shall appoint thee full measure of Priests, and send them unto thee; and I will not brook nay-saying.' Then were the Lords wroth indeed, but Loguire held up his hand, and they checked. And it came to pass as the Queen had said, that the souls of her people were governed by monks that she sent out from Runnymede, though they did oftimes confirm the priests the Lords had set over their Parishes; yet some among them had grown slack and, aye, even sinful; and these the Queen's monks removed, and set others of their number up in their steads.

"Then did the Queen summon all her Lords unto her again, and did say unto them, 'Lo, I have seen the Justice that is done on thine estates, both by thyselves and by the Judges thou dost appoint; and I have seen that the manner of Justice thou dost deliver is not all of one-piece; for Hapsburg in the East will hew off a man's hand for the theft of a loaf of bread, while Loguire in the South will only outlaw a man for a Murder; and I have seen that my people grow restive therefore, and are like to forsake the ways of Law in their confusion. Therefore wilt thou no longer deliver thyselves of Justice, nor set others to judge thy folk for thee; but all shall be judged by men that I shall send among thee, from my Court in Runnymede.' Then all the Lords waxed wroth indeed, and would have haled her down from her Throne; but the Duke Loguire withheld them, and turned his face away from the Queen, and withdrew to his Estates, and so did they all; but some among them began to plot Treason, and Loguire's eldest son Anselm made one of them.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"Then, of a night, thunder did roll and fill all the World, though the skies were clear, and the Moon bright and full, and folk looked up and wondered, and did see a star fall from the Heavens, and they turned away marveling, and praying that it might prove an Omen, heralding the healing of their Land of Gramarye, as indeed it did; for the Star fell to land, and from it stepped the High Warlock, Rod Gallowglass, tall among the sons df men, high of brow, noble of mien, with a heart of golden courage and thews of steel, merciful to all, but stern in justice, with a mind like sunlight caught in crystal, that clearly understood all the actions of all men, and his face was comely above all others.

"He came unto the Queen, but she knew him not, and thought him only one among her soldiers; yet there was poison in the air about her, and he knew it, and did banish it; and thereupon she knew him. And she sent him to the South, to guard her Uncle, for she knew that Treason brewed, and not only toward herself.

And the Warlock did as she bade him, and took with him, for a servant, the giant Tom. And they came unto Loguire secretly, under the guise of Minstrels, yet they had not been heard to sing. And there were ghosts within Loguire's castle, and the High Warlock did befriend them.

"Then did Loguire summon all the Lords of the Realm, and they came to him at his castle in the South, that he might counsel them to withhold their power yet awhile; but being met, they brewed their Treason 'gainst him.

"And there were witches in the land, and warlocks too; and word did go from mouth to mouth, the Rumor that speaks more loudly than the heralds, that the Queen had welcomed to her keep all witchfolk who did wish her protection, and there they held wild Revels through the night, for many were the Good Folk who Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html had sought to burn them; and folk began to murmur that the Queen herself had something of witchcraft in her.

"And the High Warlock did befriend the witches, even Gwendylon, most powerful among them, and she was young, and comely, and he spoke to her of Love.

"And Lord Tuan came by night unto the town of Run-nymede, that he might be near unto the Queen, though she despised him, and he came unto the beggars, and sought Sanctuary amongst them; and he taught them Governance, and they made him King among them. Yet the one among them whom Lord Tuan most trusted, he who held the purse and was called "the Mocker," bethought himself of Lord Tuan's mock crown.

"Then, when all the Lords were met at Loguire's demesne in the South, and Anselm with them, they did stand against Loguire's face and refute his leadership, raising up young Anselm to the Dukedom in his father's stead; and one Durer, erstwhile Loguire's councillor, drew blade against him. Then did the High Warlock by High Magic snuff out all the lamps and torches, so that Loguire's hall lay all in darkness, for his Hall lay underground, and had no windows. And the High Warlock conjured up the ghosts that dwelt within that keep, and they did pass amongst the folk within that hall, and all were sore afeared, aye, even those great Lords that there were met; and the Warlock stole the Duke Loguire away, and brought him secretly unto the Queen at Runnymede.

"Then did the Lords summon up their armies, and all did march against the Queen. But the High Warlock spake unto the Elves that dwelt within that land, and they did swear to fight beside him, and the Witches also. And the High Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html Warlock called up young Tuan Loguire, and he marched forth with all his beggars; and thus they came to Breden Plain: a Queen, a Warlock, and a dwarf, with an army made of witches, elves, and beggars.

"Then, under the Sun, the Lords charged out in bold array, but their horses sank into the Earth, for elves had mined it; and they hurled their spears and arrows

'gainst the Queen, but witches turned their shafts, and they fell back amongst the Armies of the Lords, and there did grievous harm. Then did Lord Tuan lead his beggars forth, and his father beside him, to finish what the witches had begun, and all the Field fell into melee. And the giant Tom rose up amidst that churning mass, and hewed a path unto the Lords and all their Councillors, and the beggars followed, and did beat down all those men-at-arms and Councillors, and made prisoners of the Lords; but the giant Tom did, in that carnage, perish, and the Warlock mourned him, and the beggars also.

"Then would the Queen have slain the Lords, or chained them into Servitude, but the Warlock spoke against it, and the Queen gazed upon his lowering brow, and knew fear. But Tuan Loguire stood beside her, and faced against the Warlock, and cried that all should be as the Queen had said; but the Warlock felled him with a most foul blow, and struck the Queen in remonstrance, and rode away upon his charmed steed, that no mortal mount could near; yet Lord Tuan in his agony shot forth a bolt that struck the Warlock as he fled.

"Then did Queen Catharine cry Lord Tuan as the Staff of her strength and the Guard of her honor, and spoke to him of love, and gave him the Lords to do with as he wished. Then did Lord Tuan free them, but with their heirs as hostages, and he took their armies for the Crown. And he did take Queen Catharine unto the altar, and became our King thereby, and reigned with Catharine the Queen.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"But the Warlock sought out the witch Gwendylon, and she did draw Lord Tuan's bolt from out him, and enchanted the wound so that it did no harm; and the Warlock spoke to her of love, and brought her to the altar.

"And the Lords went back to their demesnes, and there ruled Justly, for the King's Eye was upon them, and all was peaceful in the land of Gramarye, and contentment returned unto its folk.

"So matters stood for two years and more, and men began to trust their Lords once more, and to look kindly upon their fellows again.

"Then the night wind blew wailing and keening from the southern shore, and the sounds of War…"

—Chillde's Chronicles of the Reign of Tuan and Catharine

"According to the records, the planet was colonized by a crackpot group who dressed up in armor and held tournaments for fun; they called themselves the

'Romantic Emigres.' This kind of group acted as a selective mechanism, attracting people with latent psi powers. Put them all together on one planet and let them inbreed for a few centuries, and you get espers— which is what they've got here. Only a small percentage of the population, of course, but I have grounds for believing the rest are latents. They think they're normal, though, and call the espers 'witches' if they're female, and 'warlocks' if they're male.

"What's worse, there's a native fungus that reacts to projective telepaths; the locals call it 'witch moss,' because if the right kind of 'witch' thinks hard at it, it turns into whatever she's thinking about. So the ones who don't know they're Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html witches sit around telling fairy tales to their children, and, first thing you know, the landscape is filled with elves and ghosts and werewolves—I'll show you my bites sometime.

"In this agent's humble opinion, the place is a communications gold mine and the answer to the prayers of our noble Decentralized Democratic Tribunal. A democracy can't survive if its territory gets too big for the speed of its communications system, and the last projection I heard was that the DDT would hit critical size in about a hundred fifty years. If I can turn this planet into a democracy, it'll have just what the DDT needs—instantaneous communication over any distance. All the guesswork I've read about telepathy says it'll be instantaneous, regardless of distance, and what I've seen on this planet bears that out.

"But if the planet is vital to the success of democracy, it is equally vital for totalitarians and anarchists to keep it away from the democrats—and they're trying to do just that. The totalitarians are represented by a proletarian organization called the House of Clovis, which is trying to organize all the beggars and petty criminals, and doing a pretty good job of it, too. The anarchists are working on the noblemen; each of the twelve Great Lords has a councillor who is, I'm pretty sure, one of the anarchists.

"Where have they come from? Well, they might just have sneaked in from off-planet—but I've found at least one gizmo that can't be anything but a time machine, and I've got good reason to believe there're more.

"What upsets me about the place is the uncertainty factor. Given the local genetic makeup, and the telepathic-ally sensitive f.ungus, virtually anything Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html could happen —which means that, if I wait long enough, it probably will…"

—Excerpt from Report on Beta Cassiopeiae Gamma (local name "Gramarye"), by Rodney d'Armand, Agent for Society for Conversion of Extraterrestrial Nascent Totalitarianisms

1

The heavy clinging fog lay dense, nearly opaque, over the heaving sea. The rolling, endless crash of breakers against the headlands at the harbor's mouth came muted and distant.

High above, circling unseen, a bird called plaintive sentry cries.

The dragon shouldered out of the swirling mist, its beaked, arrogant head held high.

Four more like it loomed out of the fog at its back.

Round, bright-painted shields hung on their sides.

Oars speared out from the shields, lifting in unison and falling feathered to the waves.

The dragon's single wing was tightly furled around the crossbar lashed to the tall, single mast that thrust upward out of its back.

Squat, hulking, helmeted shapes prowled silently about the mast.

The dragon had an eagle's beak, and a tall, ribbed fin for a crest. Two long, Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html straight horns probed out from its forehead.

The surf moaned on the shore as the dragon led its mates past the headland.

The child screamed, howling for his mother, thrashing himself into a tangle with the thick fur blanket.

Then the oil lamp was there, just a rag in a dish, but warm and safe, throwing its yellow glow upward on the mother's weary, gentle face.

She gathered the quivering, sobbing little body into her arms, murmuring, "There now, love, there. Mama's here. She won't let him hurt you."

She held the child tightly, rubbing his back until the sobbing ceased. "There now, Artur, there. What was it, darling?"

The child sniffled and lifted his head from her shoulder. "Bogeyman, Mama.

Chasing me, and—he had a great big knife!"

Ethel's mouth firmed. She hugged the child and glared at the lamp-flame. "The bogeymen are far across the sea, darling. They can't come here."

"But Carl says…"

"I know, I know. Carl's mama tells him the bogeyman will get him if he's bad.

But that's just a silly story, darling, to frighten silly children. You're not silly, are you?"

Artur was silent a while; then he murmured into the folds of his mother's gown, Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"Uh… no, Mama…"

"Of course you're not." She patted his back, laid him down in the bed, and tucked the fur robe under his chin. "That's my brave boy. We both know the bogeyman can't hurt us, don't we?"

"Yes, Mama," the child said uncertainly.

"Sleep sweetly, darling," the mother said, and closed the door softly behind her.

The oil lamp set the shadows dancing softly on the walls. The child lay awake awhile, watching the slow ballet of light and dark.

He sighed, rolled over on his side. His eyes were closing as they strayed to the window.

A huge misshapen face peered in, the eyes small and gleaming, the nose a glob of flesh, the mouth a gash framing great square, yellowed teeth. Shaggy brown hair splayed out from a gleaming, winged helmet.

He grinned at the child, pig eyes dancing.

"Mama! Mamamamamamamama! Bogeyman!"

The bogeyman snarled and broke through the stout wooden wall with three blows of a great ironbound club.

The child screamed and ran, yanking and straining at the heavy bedroom door.

The bogeyman clambered through the broken wall.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html The door was flung wide; the mother stared in horror, clutching her child to her and screaming for her husband. She wheeled about and fled.

The bogeyman gave a deep, liquid chuckle, and followed.

In another cottage, a bogeyman seized a child by the ankles and swung his head against the wall. He lifted his huge club to fend off the father's sword, then whirled the club into the father's belly, swung it up to strike the father's temple.

Bone splintered; blood flowed.

The mother backed away, screaming, as the beastman caught up the father's fallen sword. He turned to the mother, knocked her aside with a careless, backhand swipe of the club, and stove in the family strong-chest with one blow.

In the first cottage, the oil lamp, knocked aside in the beast-man's passage, licked at the oil spilled on walls and floor.

Other cottages were already ablaze.

Women and children ran screaming, with chuckling beast-men loping after them.

The men of the village caught up harpoons and axes, rallying to defend their wives and children.

The beastmen shattered their heads with ironbound cudgels, clove chests with great, razor-edged battle axes, and passed on, leaving dismembered bodies behind them.

Then drumming hooves and a troop of cavalry burst into the village; the fires Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html had alerted the local baron. He sat now at the head of a score of horsemen drawn up in the beastmen's path.

"Fix lances!" he roared. "Charge!"

The beastmen chuckled.

Lances snapped down, heels kicked horsehide; the cavalry charged… and faltered, stumbled, halted, soldiers and horses alike staring at the beastmen for long, silent minutes.

Each beastman flicked his glance from one soldier to another, on to a third, then back to the first, holding each one's eyes for a fraction of a second.

Jaws gaped, eyes glazed all along the cavalry line. Lances slipped from nerveless fingers.

Slowly, the horses stepped forward, stumbled, and stepped again, their riders immobile, shoulders sagging, arms dangling.

The beastmen's little pig eyes glittered. Their grins widened, heads nodded in eager encouragement.

Step-stumble-step, the horses moved forward.

The beastmen shrieked victory as their clubs swung, caving in the horses' heads.

Axes swung high and fell, biting deep into the riders. Blood fountained as men fell. Heads flew, bones crunched under great splayfeet, as the beastmen, chuckling, waded through the butchered cavalry to break in the door of the Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html village storehouse.

The Count of Baicci, vassal to the Duke of Loguire, lay headless in the dirt, his blood pumping out to mingle with that of his cavalry before the thirsty soil claimed it.

And the women and children of the village, huddled together on the slopes above, stared slack-jawed at their burning houses, while the dragon ships, wallowing low in the waves with the weight of their booty, swung out past the bar.

And, as the long ships passed the headland, the wind blew the villagers an echo of bellowing laughter.

The word was brought to King Tuan Loguire at his capital in Runnymede; and the King waxed wroth.

The Queen waxed into a fury.

"Nay, then!" she stormed. "These devil's spawn, they lay waste a village with fire and sword, slay the men and dishonor the women, and bear off the children for bondsmen, belike— and what wilt thou do, thou? Assuredly, thou wilt not revenge!"

She was barely out of her teens, and the King was scarce older; but he sat straight as a staff, his face grave and calm.

"What is the count of the dead?" he demanded.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"All the men of the village, Majesty," answered the messenger, grief and horror just beneath the skin of his face. "A hundred and fifty. Fourteen of the women, and six babes. And twenty good horsemen, and the Count of Baicci."

The Queen stared, horrified. "A hundred and fifty," she murmured, "a hundred and fifty."

Then, louder, "A hundred and fifty widowed in this one night! And babes, six babes slain!"

"God have mercy on their souls." The King bowed his head.

"Aye, pray, man, pray!" the Queen snapped. "Whilst thy people lie broke and bleeding, thou dost pray!" She whirled on the messenger. "And rapine?"

"None," said the messenger, bowing his head. "Praise the Lord, none."

"None," the Queen repeated, almost mechanically.

" None?" She spun on her husband. "What insult is this, that they scorn our women!"

"They feared the coming of more soldiers, mayhap…" the messenger muttered.

The Queen gave him all the scorn she could jam into one quick glance. "And

'twere so, they would be lesser men than our breed; and ours are, Heaven knows, slight enough."

The messenger stiffened. The King's face turned wooden.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html He leaned back slowly, gaze fixed on the messenger. "Tell me, good fellow—

how was it a whole troop of cavalry could not withstand these pirates?"

The Queen's lip curled. "How else could it chance?"

The King sat immobile, waiting for the messenger's answer.

"Sorcery, Majesty." The messenger's voice quavered. "Black, foul sorcery. The horsemen rode doomed, for their foes cast the Evil Eye upon them."

Silence held the room. Even the Queen was speechless, for, on this remote planet, superstition had a disquieting tendency to become fact.

The King was the first to speak. He stirred in his throne, turned to the Lord Privy Councillor.

This meant he had to look down; for, though Brom O'Berin's shoulders were as broad as the King's, he stood scarcely two feet high.

"Brom," said the King, "send forth five companies of the King's Foot, one to each of the great lords whose holdings border the sea."

"But one company to each!" the Queen fairly exploded. "Art thou so easily done, good mine husband? Canst thou spare but thus much of thy force?"

The King rose and turned to Sir Maris the Seneschal. "Sir Maris, do you bring forth three companies of the King's Guard. The fourth shall bide here, for the guarding of Her Majesty Queen Catharine. Let the three companies assemble in the courtyard below within the hour, provisioned for long and hard riding."

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"My liege, I will," said Sir Maris, bowing.

"And see that mine armor is readied."

"Armor!" the Queen gasped. "Nay, nay, O mine husband. What wouldst thou do?"

"Why, what I must." The King turned to her, catching her hands between his own. "I am King, and my people are threatened. I must ride to the wreck of this village and seek out the trail of these beastmen. Then must I build ships and follow them, if I may, to their homeland."

"Oh, nay, good my lord!" Catharine cried, clinging to him. "Have we not men-at-arms enough in our armies but you also must ride forth to die? Oh, my lord, nay!

What would I do if thou shouldst be—if thou shouldst take hurt?"

The King held her close for one moment, then held her away, tilted her chin, and kissed her lips gently. "Thou art Queen," he said softly. "The brunt of this sorrow must thou bear; such is the office of Queens. Here in the place of power must thou bide, to care for our people while I ride. Thou must hazard thine husband for the good of thy people, as I must hazard my life—for such is the office of Kings."

He held her close for a long, timeless while, then kissed her lingeringly. He straightened, her hands clasped between his, then turned to go.

An embarrassed cough stopped him.

He turned, frowning. "Art still in this place, Brom? I had thought…"

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"My liege," the dwarf interrupted, "what thou shalt command, I shall do—but wilt thou command nothing more?"

The King's face darkened.

Brom's voice was tight with determination. "If there is the Evil Eye in this, Majesty, 'tis matter for witches."

The King turned away, glowering, his lips pressed thin.

"Thou hast the right of it, Brom," he admitted grudgingly. "Well enough, then, we must. Send to the witches in the North Tower, Brom, directing them to summon"—his face twisted with dislike—"the High Warlock."

The High Warlock was currently leaning his back against a tree trunk with his fundament firmly founded on terra firma, watching the sunrise with one eye and his wife with the other. Both were eminently worth watching.

The sun was splendor itself as it rose orange-gold out of the oiled green of the pine-tops into a rose-and-blue sky; but his flame-headed wife was all that was grace and loveliness, singing lightly as she sank her hands into the tub of dishwater beside the cooking-fire in the dry warmth of their cave home.

It wasn't just the domesticity that made her lovely, of course. Her long, loose red hair seemed to float about her, framing a round face with large, sea-green, long-lashed eyes, a snub nose, a wide mouth with full, tempting lips. Her figure was spectacular under the white peasant blouse and tight bodice and long, full, bright-colored skirt.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html Of course, her figure was, at the moment, more a matter of inference than observation; but the Warlock had a good memory.

The memory was a little too good; his wife's beauty occasionally reminded him of his own—well, shall we say, plainness?

No, we should say ugliness—or, rather, homeliness; for there was something attractive about his face. He had the appeal that is common to overstuffed armchairs, old fireplaces, and potbellied stoves. Hounds and small children loved him on sight.

And by this quality he had won her (it would be, perhaps, more accurate to say that she had won him, after an extended battle with his inferiority complex); for if a beautiful woman is betrayed often enough, she will begin to value trustworthiness, warmth, and affection more than romance.

At least, she will if she is the kind of woman to whom love is the goal, and romance just the luxury; such a woman was Gwen.

Such a woman will eventually be capable of loving a man with a good heart, even though his face be a bargain assortment of inclined planes, hollows, and knobs in Expressionist juxtaposition; and such a man was Rod Gallowglass.

He had a receding hairline; a flat, sloping forehead; prominent bushy eyebrows; deep eye-sockets with a matched set of gray eyes; a blade of a nose; high, flat cheekbones; and a wide, thin-lipped mouth. The mouth kept a precarious perch on top of a square, jutting chin.

Nevertheless, she loved him, which fact was to Rod a miracle, a flagrant Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html violation of all known laws of nature.

Not that he was about to object, of course.

He slid down onto the base of his spine, let his eyelids droop, and let the peace of the summer morning seep into him, lulling him into a doze.

Something struck his belly, knocking the wind out of him and jolting him wide awake. He jerked upright, knife in hand.

"Da-dee!" cooed the baby, looking enormously pleased with himself.

Rod stared at the kid. Little Magnus was holding tight to the bars of his playpen; he hadn't quite learned to stand by himself yet.

Rod managed a feeble grin and levered the corner of the oak playpen off his belly. "Very good, Magnus!" He patted the baby's head. "Good boy, good boy!"

The baby grinned, fairly hopping with delight.

The playpen rose six inches from the ground.

Rod made a frantic grab and forced it back down, hands on the lid.

Ordinarily, playpens do not have lids. But this playpen did; otherwise, the baby might have floated out.

"Yes, yes, that's a wonderful baby! Smart little fella, there! Very good baby—

Gwenl"

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"What dost thou wish, my lord?" Gwen came up to the mouth of the cave, drying her hands on her apron.

Then she saw the playpen.

"Oh, Magnusl" she mourned in that tone of hurt disappointment only mothers can master.

"No, no!" Rod said quickly. "He's a good boy, Gwen— isn't he? I've just been telling him what a good boy he is. Good boy, good baby!"

The baby stared, tiny brow wrinkling in utter confusion.

His mother had much the same look.

But her eyes widened as she realized the only way the playpen could've moved out of the cave while her back was turned. "Oh, Rod!"

"Yeah." Rod grinned with more than a touch of pride. "Precocious, isn't he?"

"But—but, my lord!" Gwen shook her head, looking dazed. "Only witches can move things other than themselves. Warlocks cannot!"

Rod pried open the playpen and took his son in his arms. "Well, he couldn't have done it by levi—uh, flying, could he?"

"Nay, he hath not strength enough to lift the playpen along with him—that he would have to do by his own bone and sinew. But warlocks cannot…"

"Well, this one can." He grinned down at the baby and chucked it under the chin.

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"How about that? I've fathered a genius!"

The baby cooed and bounced out of Rod's arms.

"Whup! Come back here!" Rod jumped and snagged a fat little ankle before the baby could float off in the morning breeze.

"Oh, Magnus!" Gwen was on them in a rush, cradling the baby in her arms. "Oh, my bold babe! Thou shalt most surely be a most puissant warlock when thou art grown!"

The baby smiled back at her. He wasn't quite sure what he'd done that was right, but he wasn't going to argue.

Rod beamed with fatherly pride as he hefted the oaken playpen back into the cave. He was amazed at his son; that playpen was heavy]

He got a hank of rope and started tying the pen down. "That kid!" he said, shaking his head. "Scarcely a year old—he can't even walk yet, and… Gwen, what's the age when they start levitating?"

" 'Levi—' Oh, you mean flying, my lord!" Gwen came back into the cave, the baby straddling one hip. "Thirteen years, or thereabouts, my lord, is the age for young warlocks to fly."

"And this kid started at nine months." Rod's chest swelled a trifle—his head, too.

"What age do little witches start making their broomsticks fly?"

"Eleven, my lord, or mayhap twelve."

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"Well, he's a little ahead of schedule for that, too—except that warlocks aren't supposed to make broomsticks fly at all. What a kid!" He didn't mention that Magnus was obviously a major mutation.

He patted the baby's head. The child wrapped a chubby hand around his father's finger.

Rod turned shining eyes to Gwen. "He'll make a great agent when he's grown."

"My lord!" Gwen's brow knit in concern. "Thou wilt not take him from Gramarye?"

"Perish the thought!" Rod took Magnus and tossed him up in the air. "He'll have his work cut out for him right here."

Magnus squealed with delight and floated on up toward the roof.

Rod executed a high jump that would have done credit to a pole-vaulter and snagged his errant son. "Besides, he may not even want to join SCENT—who knows?"

Rod was an agent of the Society for the Conversion of Extraterrestrial Nascent Totalitarianisms, the subversive wing of the multi-planet Decentralized Democratic Tribunal, the first and only human interstellar government in history not to be based on Terra. The Senate met by electronic communications; the Executive resided on a starship which was usually to be found between planets.

Nonetheless, it was the most efficient democratic government yet established.

SCENT was the organization responsible for bringing the Lost Colonies of Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html earlier Terrestrial empires back into the fold. Rod was on permanent assignment to Gramarye, a planet that had been colonized by mystics, romantics, and escapists. The culture was medieval, the people superstitious—and a small percentage of the population had "witch-powers."

Consequently, the DDT in general, and SCENT in particular, were immensely interested in Gramarye; for the "witches" and "warlocks" were espers. Some had one set of psi powers and some had another—but all were telepaths to some degree. And, since the efficiency (and, consequently, the viability) of a democracy varies directly with the speed of its communications, and since telepathic communication was instantaneous, the DDT treasured its only colony of espers very highly.

So Rod had been assigned to guard the planet, and to carefully nudge its political system onto the road that would eventually lead to democracy and full membership in the DDT.

"Hey, Fess," Rod called.

The great black horse grazing in the meadow outside the cave lifted its head to look at its master. Its voice sounded through a small earphone buried in Rod's mastoid bone. "Yes, Rod?"

Rod snorted. "What're you cropping grass for? Who ever heard of a robot burning hydrocarbons?"

"One must keep up appearances, Rod," Fess reproved him.

"Next thing I know, you'll be keeping up with the Joneses! Listen, bolt-head—

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html it's an occasion! The kid pulled his first telekinesis stunt today!"

"Telekinesis? I had thought that was a sex-linked female trait, Rod."

"Well, all of a sudden it ain't." He put the baby in the playpen and clamped the cover down before Magnus had a chance to drift out. "How about that, Fess?

This kid's gonna be a champion!"

"It will be my great pleasure to serve him," the robot murmured, "as I have served his forebears for five hundred years, since the days of the first D'Armand, who founded…"

"Uh, skip the family history, Fess."

"But, Rod, it is a vital portion of the child's heritage; he should…"

"Well, save it until he learns to talk, then."

"As you wish." The mechanical voice somehow managed a sigh. "In that case, it is my duty to inform you that you will shortly be receiving company, Rod."

Rod stilled, cocking an eyebrow at his horse. "What do you see?"

"Nothing, Rod; but I detect the sounds characteristic of bipedal locomotion of a small being conveying itself through long grass."

"Oh." Rod relaxed. "An elf coming through the meadow. Well, they're always welcome."

An eighteen-inch body burst out of the grass at the cave-mouth.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html Rod grinned. "Welcome, merry wanderer of the night."

"Puck!" Gwen squealed. She turned to their guest. "Assuredly, thou art most…"

She stopped, seeing the look on the elf's face.

Rod had sobered too. "What's right, Puck?"

"Naught," said the elf grimly. "Rod Gallowglass, thou must needs come, and right quickly, to the King!"

"Oh, I must, must I? What's so urgent all of a sudden? What's all the panic about?"

"Beastmen!" The elf gasped for breath. "They have raided the seacoast at the Duchy of Loguire!"

The Royal Guard rode south, with the King at their head.

A lone rider sat his grazing horse at the side of the road, playing a pipe with a low and mournful sound.

Tuan frowned, and said to the knight beside him, "What ails yon fellow? Is he so bemused by his own music that he doth not see armed horsemen approaching?"

"And can he not see thy crown?" the knight responded, dutifully putting into words what his sovereign was thinking. "I shall waken him, Majesty." He kicked his horse's sides and cantered ahead.

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"Ho, fellow! Dost thou not see His Majesty approacheth?"

The rider looked up. "Why, so he does! Say, isn't that a handy coincidence? I was just thinking about him."

The knight stared, then backed his horse away. "Thou'rt the High Warlock!"

" 'High'?" Rod frowned. "Not a word of truth in it. Totally sober, good knight—

haven't even thought about intoxicants since last Friday!"

The knight frowned, irritation overcoming awe. "Eh, thou'rt as unmannerly as a churl! Know that the King hath created thee High Warlock!"

" 'Tis even so," the King confirmed, drawing rein beside them. Then, rather unwillingly, "Well met, Lord High Warlock—for this poor Isle of Gramarye doth lie in need of thine art, and thy wisdom."

Rod inclined his head. "I am ever obedient to my adoptive homeland's call. But why do I get a high title out of it? I'd come just as quickly withoutit."

" 'Tis thy due, is it not?" Tuan's lips pressed thin. "And it describes thy place aptly. Folk fight better when they know from whom to take orders, and to whom to give them."

"An understatement," Rod admitted. "You've gotta have a clear flow chart if you want to get anything done. Very true, Your Majesty; I should've known better than to question you."

Tuan's eyebrows lifted. "Pleasantly said; I would not have expected it of you."

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"Oh, you should have." Rod grinned. "I always give respect where it's due."

"And withhold it where 'tis not?" Tuan frowned. "Am I, then, so rarely worthy of respect?"

Rod's grin widened. "Only when you try to use authority you don't have—which doesn't happen very often, now that you're a king. And, of course, when you back someone who's in the wrong."

Tuan's frown darkened. "When have I done such?"

"Just before you got my knee in your groin. But I must admit that the Queen isn't trying to play God anymore."

Tuan flushed, turning away from Rod.

"And, of course, you were trying to be her champion, and laying down the law."

Rod ignored the danger signals. "Which you had no right to do—at the time. Still don't, really."

"Have I not?" Tuan snapped, whirling to face Rod. "I am now King!"

"Which means that you're supposed to be foremost among your peers. It doesn't make you a superior breed—and doesn't give you the right to make laws if your barons are against them."

"You cannot truly believe that I would do so."

"Well, no, not you," Rod admitted. "Catharine, however…"

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"Rarely is the Queen not swayed by my counsel," Tuan grated. "What we do, we do in concert."

"Then you both agree on marching south to fight the beastmen?"

Tuan managed to stay with the change of topic. "We have discussed it; and, aye, we are agreed. I do not say we take joy in the prospect."

"Well, say it," Rod invited. "Or are you really going to tell me you don't like being out in the field again?"

Tuan stared, taken aback. Then he grinned sheepishly. "In truth, my heart doth lift as I gaze upon open fields and feel harness on my back. I will own, 'tis good to be out from chambers and councils."

Rod nodded. "That's what I expected; you're a born general. Still can't understand how you manage to be a good king, too."

Tuan shrugged impatiently. " 'Tis like to the order of battle, save that the 'troops'

one doth command are reeves and bailiffs."

"But it does require a totally different library of knowledge."

"That, Catharine hath," Tuan said very honestly. "I need only to steady her judgment, and issue her commands in such wise that they shall not arouse rebellion."

Which was true, Rod reflected; half of the offense Catharine gave was due to the way she said things, rather than what she said. "Well, you've just earned my Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html respect again."

Tuan frowned. "For what? For kingship?"

"No, for candor. But now the burden of monarchy moves back into your field of knowledge, Majesty. What do you propose to do about these raiders?"

"Go to where they have been, expecting that they will strike again, and not far from where they struck first," Tuan answered. "When the bee findeth a flower filled with nectar, doth he not return to that place to find other flowers nearby?"

"Yes, and usually with more bees. I notice you brought a few stingers of your own."

Tuan glanced back at the army behind him. "The beastmen should be hard put to best these stout hearts."

"From the report I had, it's not their hearts that're in danger." Rod turned Fess, falling in alongside Tuan. The King kicked his heels into his horse's ribs, and the column began to move south again. Tuan nodded. "Thou dost speak of the Evil Eye."

"I doth," Rod agreed. "How much faith do you put in that part of the report?"

Tuan shrugged. " 'Tis wisest to believe it true, and guard against it as best we may." He pinned Rod with a stare. "What charm is there against it?"

Rod shrugged. "Beats me; I've never run into it befoTe. Haven't the slightest idea how it works. For all I know, they might just be so ugly that you freeze in horror Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html when you look at'em."

Tuan shook his head firmly. "Nay. If the report is true, 'tis magic, not simple fear."

"Well, 'disgust' was more of what I had in mind. And, of course, the report itself might not be too accurate. Who'd it come from, anyway?"

"Mothers and grand-folk who were fleeing as they saw. And three of the footmen still live, though with grievous wounds; they have not spoken much, but what little they have said confirms the report, that 'twas the Eye that froze them."

"Not exactly ideal spying conditions, in either case," Rod mused, "and not enough information to work up anything to counter it. Still, it does seem that they have to look you in the eye to freeze you; so pass the word to look at their hands, their hats, their teeth—anything but their eyes."

"Well, 'tis better than naught," Tuan sighed. "But I would thou couldst find a better remedy, Lord Warlock. A soldier is hard put to avoid his enemy's eyes, in the melee."

"Well, it's the best I can do, for the moment," Rod grumped. "I'll try to get some firsthand experience if they attack again. Then maybe I…"

"Nay." Tuan drew up sharply and looked Rod in the eye. "Thou must learn this to thy sorrow, Lord Gallowglass, as I have had to: thou art now of too great worth to be risked in the melee. Thou must needs stand apart, with me, on high ground, to aid in the directing of the battle."

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html With a sinking heart, Rod knew Tuan was right; an army did fight better when it had overall direction. "Your Majesty is of course always right. I'll stay out of it as long as you do."

Tuan eyed him skeptically. "Do not think that will aid thee. I have gained in patience."

He wasn't doing so badly in perceptiveness, either; three years ago, he would've missed the sarcasm. "All of this assumes, however, that we have time to pick our ground before the fighting starts."

"Ah." Tuan turned back to the south and began riding again. "That is thy part."

"Oh?" Rod eyed him warily. "Am I supposed to magically transport this whole army to the ground you choose?"

"Nay. Thou'rt to secure us warning that raiders come, far enough in advance that we may ride to the place they will attack, and be there before them."

"Oh." Rod's lips held the shape of the letter after it was gone. "That's all I've got to do, huh? Mind telling me how? Am I supposed to set sentries pacing a mile offshore?"

"Aye, if thou canst derive a spell that will prevent them from sinking."

"Oh, nothing easier! It's called 'rowboats.' " Rod frowned. "Hold on, now. That almost sounds sensible."

"Aye, it doth." Tuan turned to him. "A line of sentries in small craft just beyond Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html the horizon, to watch for a mast. But how will they sound the alarm?"

"They could row."

"The beastmen will row more quickly; there do be more of them, and they will be aided by wind. Would they not overtake thy sentry and slay him?"

"True." Rod frowned. "Well, how about if the sentry was a warlock? Then he could telep… uh, conjure himself ashore, and leave them an empty rowboat."

"A likely thought." Tuan nodded. "But thy warlocks hear thoughts. Could not he raise the alarm more quickly if there were another of the witch-folk ashore, listening for his thoughts?"

"True. That would be quicker, and… wait a minute!" Rod struck his forehead with the heel of his hand. "What's the matter with me? Sorry, Your Majesty; I'm slow today. Why bother putting the warlock in the boat? Why not just have him stay ashore and listen for approaching beastman thoughts?"

"Nay, certes!" Tuan squeezed his eyes shut. "Did I truly need a High Warlock to tell me this? Where are my wits?"

There was a good chance he'd left them back at the royal castle in Runnymede, but Rod didn't think it was politic to say so. Besides, Tuan could've replied that Rod's brains currently had long red hair and a figure worth killing for.

Then the King opened his eyes, with doubt in them. "Yet art thou certain they do think?"

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"That is a distinct possibility. Maybe if I go to the western coast and shout,

' Cogito, ergo sum,' they'll all disappear."

"Is that a mighty spell?"

"No, just wishful thinking; I'm putting Descartes before the horse." There was a short, nasty buzzing in Rod's ear; Fess didn't think much of his sense of humor.

'ISeriously, though, Your Majesty, that shouldn't be a problem. Anything alive and moving under its own power has some sort of neurological activity. I've got one young witch who can read an earthworm's thoughts, and they don't even have any."

"But can they hear thoughts far enough away to give us time to set our battle line where they mean to land?"

"Don't worry about that one, either. I had another young lady listen to the thoughts of one of the dino… uh, 'terrible lizard' giants over on the mainland, once. She wasn't herself again for three days…"

"Then thou hast thy sentry-force made."

Rod frowned. "Yeah, but I just had another nasty thought. How come none of the witches ever heard beastman thoughts before?"

That stopped Tuan, too. He frowned and thought it over for a few seconds. Then he looked up with a bright smile. "Mayhap because they were not there?"

Rod sat still for a moment. Then he sighed and shrugged. "Why not? On Gramarye, anyway." There was a local variety of fungus that was very sensitive.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html Not that its feelings could be hurt or anything; but if a projective telepath thought at it hard enough, it would turn into whatever the projective was thinking about. Yes, it was very possible that the beastmen hadn't been there before. All it would take was an old granny, one who didn't know her own strength, telling horror stories to amuse the children…

He didn't think he wanted to meet that granny. "Say, uh, Your Majesty… what happens when our sentries do find them?"

"Why, then we ride against them with steel and fire," Tuan said grimly.

"Yes, but—Gramarye is a moderately big island. What if they strike someplace where our army isn't?"

"As they have indeed done." Tuan nodded. "Well, I have commanded each of the seacoast lords to muster a force of worthy size, and keep it ever ready. E'en so, the best of barons' forces can only hold them till my armies come; if it can do more, I have more than beastmen to worry me."

It was a good point; a baron who could defeat a party of raiders was bound to think of taking on the royal army. "But it could take a while for your army to get there—say, a few days."

"Indeed." Tuan turned to him, frowning. "Canst thou not discover a spell to move mine army to the battlefield ere the beastmen come to it, High Warlock?"

" 'Fraid that's beyond even my powers." Rod had a brief, dizzying vision of Tuan's knights and men-at-arms clustered onto huge antigravity plates, skimming over the countryside; but he manfully thrust it from him, remembering Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html that technology comes in whole chunks, not just bits and pieces. If he taught them how to make antigrav plates, they'd figure out very quickly how to make automatic cannon and television chains—and how much chance would democracy have in a land whose king had the technology for totalitarianism, and whose people still thought loyalty was the supreme virtue? Right—about as much as a camel in a glacier. "But you don't need magic to do it—just a complete force of horsemen."

"Why, how is that?" Tuan looked worried; to him, "horseman" meant "knight."

"Well, I know it sounds like heresy—but you don't have to have just the captains mounted. Common soldiers can learn to ride too."

Tuan stared, scandalized.

"Not on full-scale war-horses, of course," Rod said quickly. "The rankers can ride ponies. They can go just as fast as the destriers on the long haul, where they keep it down to a canter, if they don't wear much armor. And you can keep the whole force right there, in Runnymede, since it's pretty close to being the center of the island. Then, when my witch-sentries send word, you can just yell, 'Horse and hattock! Ho, and away!' and they can be mounted up and gone in ten minutes. Then, if you keep alternating canter and trot and give each soldier a spare mount, they can be anywhere within Gramarye in two days."

"And the beastmen could land within one." Tuan scowled, chewing at his lip.

"E'en so, the idea has merit. A thousand men would suffice; certes these beastmen will not bring more. Then I could keep five such forces, placed so that any one of them could be at the seacoast in either of two provinces in less than a day." He turned a beaming smile on Rod. 'T truth, 'twill succeed! And if the Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html footmen must ride, what of it? When they come to the field, they can dismount and fight as they always have!"

And, Rod realized with a sinking heart, the King would have discovered an excellent means of enforcing his will on the barons, whether they liked him or not. But what else could he do? Let bogeymen gobble up the taxpayers? "I think it'll work, Your Majesty."

"But a name! It must have a name!" Tuan's eyes glowed with excitement. "They will fight better, these soldiers, if their force doth bear a name that may ring down the ages!"

Tuan was good at that—these little bits of nonsense that ultimately made a great deal of difference: honor, chivalry, things like that. Men fought harder for these intangibles than for cold cash, frequently. If Tuan said his men would fight harder if their regiment had a famous name, Rod wasn't going to argue. "How about the Flying Legion?"

"Will this truly be an army, my lord?" Gwen stood beside him on the hillside, looking out over the little valley that had sprouted tents and horses.

"Only the vanguard," Rod assured her. "Tuan's still got his standing army of five thousand—and most of them are standing because they don't know how to ride.

Here we're gathering a thousand good riders from all over the island, ones who already have some experience in war. Tuan's going to recruit another five thousand pedestrians for the main force, though."

Far below, a lieutenant shouted, and his squadron leaped into a gallop, charging down on another hapless unit with wicker swords.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html Gwen watched and shuddered. "They are not terribly deft, my lord."

"I said they were experienced, not talented." Rod turned away and strolled along the flank of the hill, holding her hand. "Give 'em a little training and practice, though, and you'll never see a better troop of cavalry—I hope. Who's this?" He stopped, scowling at a brown-robed figure with a neat round bald spot who sat cross-legged about fifty yards ahead of them, a huge book open in his lap. He had an inkhorn in his left hand, and a quill in his right.

"A good friar, it would seem," Gwen answered. "Why art thou concerned, mine husband?"

"Because I don't remember ordering any." Rod strode up to the monk. "Good morning, Father."

"Good morning to thee, goodman." The priest turned a sunny, beaming countenance up to Rod. Then his jaw dropped and he scrambled to his feet.

"Why, 'tis the High Warlock!"

"Careful, there; don't spill your ink." Rod reached out a hand to steady the inkhorn. "It's nice to be recognized, but I'm not worth jumping up for—not unless you're in uniform, anyway."

"Nay; I know thee for one of the greatest men ever to walk the soil of Gramarye." Everything about the monk was round —his stomach, his face, his eyes. "Who else could have rescued Catharine the Queen from the peasant mob who sought her life and the band of barons who sought her throne?"

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"Well, her husband did a pretty good job; he was in on that, too, if you remember. In fact, that battle had a lot to do with his becoming her husband."

"Yet, not so much as thyself," the monk chirped.

Rod cleared his throat; the friar was coming unpleasantly close to the truth. Time for a change of subject. "What're you doing here, Father?"

"Oh!" The monk looked down at his book. "Only amusing an idle moment, Lord Warlock. A wise man will ever be doing; so, when there is naught else afoot, I fill the time with the writing of a chronicle of the events that occur whiles I live."

"A Chronicle? Hey! History in the making!" Rod couldn't resist. "Am I in it?"

"Indeed, Lord Warlock! What Historie of Gramarye could be complete without full accounting of thee?"

"I had rather account for him at home," Gwen said dourly, coming up beside Rod. "Yet I do not think thou didst quite catch mine husband's meaning, good Father."

"Yeah? Oh! Yeah!" Rod looked up, and cleared his throat. "That's right, Father.

When I said, 'What're you doing here?'

I meant, here with the army, not just at this particular moment. What's your business?"

"Why, the saving of souls," answered the priest in round-eyed innocence. "Our good Abbot hath appointed me chaplain to the King's Foot—but His Majesty did Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html say to me that he had a surfeit of chaplains, and sent me to thee."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Rod could see Tuan doing it, too. The young King loved all his subjects, but the average medieval monk tended to be continually exhorting, which could try even Tuan's patience. "I can see I'll have to have a word with His Majesty. Well, at least he sent me an amateur historian."

"Milord!" A squire came galloping up and reined in near Rod. "Lord O'Berin's greetings, milord. He doth send to tell thee the folk from Loguire have come!"

"Oh, really!" Rod grabbed the priest's hand and gave it a quick shake, quill-pen and all. "Well, it was a real pleasure to meet you, Father, but I've gotta run now… Uh, what was your name again?"

"Brother Chillde, I am called. But do not stay to speak with a foolish friar, Lord Warlock, when matters of state await thee."

"Well, military matters, really. Gwen, come listen." He caught her hand as he turned away, pacing down the hill. "These're a few of the survivors from the beastman attack."

"Ah! I will listen, and gladly." A frown puckered Gwen's brow. "I misdoubt me that there may have been something of magic about these beastmen."

"If there is, and they mention it, you'll find it." As they paced over the valley floor, Rod remembered his son. "Where's Magnus?"

Gwen's eyes flashed, and her chin came up. "Rather, ask why I have come here."

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"I did wonder, but not too much—I was just glad to have you. Why? What did Brom do?"

"He came to our home and told me that I could no longer sit idly by, playing at housewifery. As though 'twere play!"

Rod winced, remembering how the dust flew at home—he couldn't even be a little messy anymore—and the rotten (for her) mood Gwen was in by the end of each day. "Well, he can say that—he's got a troop of elves to keep his quarters tidy. But he is right, dear—we need your talents in the field just now. The cave'll have to gather dust."

Gwen shuddered. "Well, mayhap; 'tis after all folks' lives we speak of, and we will not be home for some time, I think. Magnus, however, cannot wait; I must needs spend at least the half of my waking time with him, unless 'tis a day of battle."

"Yeah, I know." Rod winced at a twinge of conscience. "But where is the boy?"

"Brom found a half-dozen elfin beldams to watch over him. I took him to their grotto, and I could see they knew something of children, so I left him with them."

"Not altogether willingly, I gather."

"Oh, I will never feel easy with my babe out of my sight!" Gwen cried. "Yet it must be, and I know I am foolish to worry."

"Yes, you probably are." Rod squeezed her hand. "I'm sure any nursemaids Brom finds for you will be very capable." Gwen couldn't know just how sure—

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html Brom had made Rod swear never to tell her that Brom was her father. He felt a little shy about it, being a dwarf. But he did care for Magnus like one of his own

—which the child was, of course. No, any babysitter Brom picked would be extremely reliable. "Even if they are elves."

" Especially if they are elves." Gwen skewered him with a glance. "Who else could keep thy son bound, Warlock?"

"Only another warlock, or witch." Rod grinned into her glare. "Witch."

"Well, that is true." Her gaze softened. "Though the most of them are too young; and the ones who are aged enough are sour old spinsters and hermits, living midst the wild mountains. No, I do trust Brom's elves."

"After all, who else would he get?" Rod spread his hands. "He is the King of the Elves, after all."

"Aye." Gwen smiled, amused. "If Their Majesties only knew their Privy Councillor's true nature—and office!"

"They'd kick him out of the household and try to sign a treaty with him. No, I think the current setup's much more efficient."

"Aye, with Brom ever at Tuan's elbow."

"And Magnus with the elves, and you with me." Rod sighed. "My son, the changeling! Besides, you can keep checking on him, can't you?"

"Oh, I do at all odd moments, I assure you!" Gwen stopped and stood stock-still, Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html her eyes losing focus. Then she relaxed and began walking again, with a nod.

"Aye, he is well."

"Helps to be a mind reader, doesn't it?" Rod grinned. "Which is, of course, one of the reasons why I like having you along on this trip." He stopped at Brom's tent, nodded to the sentries, and lifted the tent flap. "After you, dear."

Inside, two servants stood near a long table, holding trays laden with food. A handful of peasants sat at the board, chewing huge mouthfuls and washing them down with ale. A dusty man sat at one end of the table, eating with equal gusto but in smaller bites—a knight out of armor, to judge by his clothes. At the other end of the table sat a man less than three feet high, with shoulders almost as wide as he was tall, arms and legs thicker with muscle than Rod's, and a huge head with shaggy black hair and beard. His head snapped up as Rod entered; then he leaped down and strode over to the witch-pair, booming, "Well, 'tis time thou hast come! Here these goodfolk are near to surfeited with food and ale—and I sent for thee as soon as they did arrive."

"Well, we're never easy to find." Rod stepped over to the table. "Who is this gentleman?"

"Sir Reginald De La Place, vassal to the Duke Loguire," Brom explained. "He it is hath brought these peasants to us. Sir Reginald, this titled lout is Rod Gallowglass, Lord High Warlock."

"Lord Warlock!" The knight jumped to his feet. "I am honored!"

"Glad to hear it," Rod said, inclining his head. "My wife, the Lady Gwendylon."

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html The knight bowed, and Gwen beamed.

"And these poor folk be victims." Brom clapped the nearest peasant on the shoulder. "But a week agone, they had houses. What hast thou now, goodman?"

The peasant gulped his current mouthful. "Eh, we ha' cottages again, milord—or the half of us do, then. 'Tis not so long, to build a wall of wattle."

"And daub," Brom amplified. "I ha' seen our folk at work, Lord Warlock. They build a house in but jr day. Yet there were a score of cottages in their village."

Rod noticed the apprehensive way the peasants were eyeing him. "It's all just a rumor, folks. I'm not really a warlock-just a bad scholar who's learned a few tricks."

If anything, their apprehension deepened.

"Well, I tried," Rod sighed. "Tell me, goodman—what did these beastmen look like?"

"Ah, terrible things they was, milord! Tall as houses, and horned like the moon!''

"And hairy," the woman across from him added. "All over covered with hair, they was."

"But not on their faces," another woman chimed in. "Beardless, they was."

"And they rode on a dragon," the man said firmly. "A dragon it was—and it swam away with 'em on its back!"

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"Nay, 'tweren't a beast!" the first woman scoffed. "What would ye know about it? Ye was half dead with a cracked skull when they sailed away!" She turned to Rod. "We were blessed, milord. Seven of our menfolk dead, but he wasn't one of'em."

"All of 'em hurted, though," the woman next to her muttered, "and six bairns killed."

Rod's face darkened. "What were the dragons he was talking about, then?"

"Ships, milord! Only their ship! But the front of it was carved into a dragon's head, and the stern was carved into a tail!"

"Dragon ships? Were they long and narrow?"

"The very thing!" the woman chortled. "Hast seen 'em, then, milord?"

"Only in a history book—and those raiders did have beards. And not much body hair…"

"And horns, milord?"

"Helmets," Rod explained, "helmets with horns on 'em. At least, that's what people thought they wore—but they didn't really. Not in battle."

"Can't be the same ones, then," the man said firmly.

"No," Rod agreed, "I don't think the originals could have sailed this far from their home ports. They were mighty sailors, but they did need water."

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"Then, why would these beastmen be dressed like to them, my lord?" Gwen wondered.

"Because somebody's been telling 'em stories. Speaking of which, do grannies tell folk tales about horned raiders in dragon ships?"

The peasants shook their heads, wide-eyed.

"Well, it was a chance," Rod sighed. "But if the grannies haven't been telling tales, who has?"

"Didn't look like just a ship in the moonlight, with them devils yellin' and swingin' their clubs," the big peasant muttered, fingering his bandage gently.

"Of course not," Rod agreed. "That's why they carved it that way—to scare the…" His eyes lost focus. "Wait a minute! Of course! That's why whoever told

'em about dragon ships and horned helmets… did tell 'em! To help them scare poor people like you! After all, if it worked for the Vikings…"

"What are 'vikings,' milord?" one of the women asked timidly.

"The horned raiders I was telling you about."

"Could they freeze people with a look?"

Rod shook his head. "No, of course not—though I suppose they wanted to. You mean these gorillas couldV

"Froze us near to stone," the man growled. "One of 'em looked me in the eye, and all of a sudden, his eyes seemed to pierce right through to the back of me Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html head. I tried to move, but I couldn't."

"Ye was scared," the second woman scoffed, "frighted stiff, like a babe with a snake."

The man's face reddened. "Was ye there on the green with us, woman? Did ye look into their eyes? Oh, aye, those glittering eyes frighted me—but I've been frighted in battle afore, when our young Lord Anselm fought the Queen… and…

um…" He eyed Brom furtively.

"And his younger brother, who is now our King," Brom growled. "None will fault thee for that, goodman. What choice hadst thou? When thy lord summons thee to fight, thou must needs fight. Yet, in that battle, did fear freeze thee?"

"Nay, good my lord!" The peasant shook his head. "I swung my pike the harder for it. Yet when that grisly monster's eyes pierced my brain, I sought to strike in wild anger—but mine arm would not answer! I strained, I tugged at it with all my will, but it would not…" He broke off with a shudder. "Lord in Heaven save me! May I never live through such a moment again! To not be able to budge, yet see that huge club swinging down at me…" He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, shaking his head.

"Softly, now." Rod clapped him on the shoulder. "You did bravely, goodman.

You did all that a man could do."

" 'Twas the Evil Eye," the man muttered. " 'Twas witchcraft."

Rod turned to Gwen with a questioning gaze.

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"There are tales of it," she answered slowly, "of witches and warlocks who could freeze folk with a glance. Yet I never have met one with such a power."

"And you know most of the witches in Gramarye." Rod turned back to the peasant, nodding. "So our enemy is something new, in more ways than one. But if it had not been for yourself, goodman, we would not have known that. My deepest thanks."

"At your lordship's service." The big peasant recovered a bit, and managed to smile up at Rod. " 'Twas… 'twas real, then?"

"Is the lump on your head real?"Rod retorted. "Then, the club that made it certainly was, and so was the beastman who swung it. As to the Evil Eye—well, when a battle-tried veteran freezes, it couldn't very well be anything else." Not on this world, anyway, he thought.

"Thank ye, milord." The peasant smiled up at him.

"Don't worry. I would've frozen too." Rod clapped him on the shoulder again, and turned to Gwen. "Know any counter-spells?"

Her lips parted to answer as she spread her hands—and suddenly there was a baby in them, kicking and crowing, "Mama! Found you, Mama! Found you!"

Gwen stared, startled. Then a delighted grin curved her lips, and she hugged the child close to her. "Hast thou indeed, thou naughty babe! Come, didst thou seek thy mother through thy mind only?"

"Huh!" The baby nodded, very pleased with himself.

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"A telepathic tracker?" Rod was staring too. "My son's a headhunter?"

" 'Tis a head I'll be having, though not his," Brom growled. "Whose charge was this bairn? Hobgoblin!"

Something small popped through the door and scurried over to Brom. "Pardon, King of Shadows!" It was a miniature man about a foot and a half tall, heavy in the shoulders and deep in the voice. "The elf-wives' powers have waned; the babe lost interest in their games, and their spells could not hold him."

"Then, they must con new charms, and hold him by delight alone," Brom growled. "Though 'tis true, I know of nothing that could hold this bairn when he doth not wish it."

"Naughty babe!" Gwen reproved Magnus. He gurgled happily in reply.

"At least, when he had 'scaped I found him in the half of a minute," the elf pointed out.

" Tis true, and any who would wish to harm him would fare ill against thee,"

Brom admitted. "Yet bid them hold him better, Robin."

"Naughty child!" Gwen scolded. "Though glad I am to see thee, yet must thou know thy mother hath a task which must be done. I cannot be with thee now, my sweet, much though I wish to. Come, hie thee back to thy nurse, and bide until I call thee."

"Uh-uh!" The baby scowled, and shook his head.

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"Magnus," Gwen began, in a tone that implied a nuclear bomb (or, at least, a tactical warhead) was about to explode.

But Brom interrupted. "Nay then, manikin! Hast never heard of bogeymen?"

The child stared down at him in blue-eyed wonder.

"Never?" Brom rumbled. "Ah, woefully dost thou neglect this child's education if he ha' not yet heard of childhood's horror!"

"Well, that's kinda the point," Rod answered, nettled. "I see absolutely no point in scaring kids half to death and giving them dread of perfectly ordinary things.

If I tell him to be good, he's got to do it simply because he believes in me."

"Pray he doth; if this bairn ceased to believe in me, I might cease to be!" Brom growled. "Yet what robbery is this, to take from him one of childhood's most delicious thrills—the dread of the horrible monster that he knows, at heart's bottom, doth not truly live? The bogeymen, child, are huge, shambling things, all covered with hair, with tiny glowing eyes, and long, sharply pointed teeth!"

Magnus cuddled back against Gwen with a delighted squall.

" 'Tis true!" Brom held up a forefinger. "Vile things are they, that do seek to harm both children and parents! And thy mother and father must needs sally forth against them, to drive them from this land for good and all—yet they cannot go if they are not sure that thou art safe."

Magnus stared at Brom wide-eyed, beginning to understand.

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"So hie thee back to thy nurses!" Brom clapped his hands.

"Hie thee hence, and bide with them till thy mother doth summon thee! Bide thee with thy nurses in safety, that thy mother and father may chase the bogeymen from this land!"

Magnus looked up at Gwen out of the corner of his eyes. "Baby come too?"

"I fear not," Gwen said firmly, holding him up under the arms so that she could look directly into his eyes. "Thou must needs do as thine Uncle Brom…"

Rod was the only one who noticed the shadow pass over Brom's face.

"… as thine Uncle Brom doth say, and flit back to Elfland, to thy nurses, there to bide whiles thy father and I do chase these monsters. Yet I'll summon thee whene'er I may, to play awhile. Now, wilt thou go?"

The baby glowered at her, then nodded reluctantly.

"Good babe!" Gwen kissed him. "Now, hie thee hence!"

Magnus looked up at Rod. He reached out to squeeze a chubby hand—then found himself holding empty air. Magnus had disappeared.

"Bairns do understand more than we think," Brom rumbled, "if we are but open with them." He frowned at the peasants. "And what dost thou gape at, village fools? Hast never seen a babe afore?"

The men gave a start and glanced at Rod guiltily; but the women sighed, and one of them said to Gwen, "Now, bless thee, lady! Praise Heaven mine were only Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html common babes!"

"Certes, they tried thee as sorely as ever mine try me," Gwen answered, amused.

"I have, after all, some powers to use in dealing with him. Yet bless thee for thy wishes, good-wife."

One of the guardsmen stepped into the tent. "Milords, His Majesty doth ask that thou attend upon him."

Brom looked up, frowning. "What coil's this?"

"Word hath flown from witch to witch, milord. A dragon ship doth sail toward Bourbon."

Half an hour later, while the main army was still striking its tents and packing up, the Flying Legion cantered up out of the valley and struck off toward the east. Rod rode at their head, with Toby the teenage warlock beside him. "I didn't have time for the full report, Toby. Who spotted the beastmen?"

"Matilda, milord. She and Marion, her sister, flew to the east to dwell within a cottage on a cliff-top that Lord Haps-burg built for them—all as His Majesty commanded."

Rod nodded. "And they take turns just sitting and listening for strange thoughts, right?"

Toby nodded. "Even as His Majesty did command—an hour listening, then an hour doing other things, then an hour listening again." He glanced at Rod out of the corner of his eye. "Twas thou who didst bid His Majesty so instruct us, was it Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html not?"

Rod frowned and shook his head. "What would I know about hearing thoughts, Toby? It was Gwen's idea. So, who heard the beastman-thoughts—the one who was on duty, or both of them?"

"The one who was 'off-duty,' Lord Warlock. She slept, and waked screaming."

"The one who slept?" Rod stared. Then he nodded slowly. "Well, I suppose it makes sense. Maybe her telepathic sensitivity gets a boost when she's asleep."

"We do seem to have dreams that are not our own," Toby admitted.

"Really! Hm! Wish I'd known that—might've come in handy."

"Cannot Gwendylon hear thy thoughts when she doth sleep?" Toby asked carefully.

Rod shook his head. "Neither asleep nor awake. I seem to be telepathically invisible." His tone was carefully neutral, hiding his feelings nicely. He tried not to think about it; it made him feel inferior to Gwen. "What did Matilda dream?"

"She dreamt that she pulled an oar aboard a dragon ship, and heard the chieftains speaking of old gods which they used to worship, and a new god which they worship now. Yet all of it was without words, and the new god seemed somehow monstrous, though there was no picture of it."

"Well, that's not surprising. Haven't you ever had that flash of thought, the whole concept suddenly clear, before you get around to putting it into words?"

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html Toby frowned. "I have indeed, though I had not thought of it. And the thought Matilda heard lasted no longer than such a flash."

"Really?" Rod pricked up his mental ears. "Odd, that. Was there a strong emotion under it?"

Toby nodded. "Very strong; a surge of fear and dread. The beastman's soul, for a second, did clamor toward the sky and the old gods. Then he realized what he did, and the thought ended. Yet it was enough to waken Matilda, and waken her screaming."

"Small wonder; I'd wake up halfway out of the room. But it tells us.a lot."

"Aye. It tells us beastmen draw near the eastern coast."

"Well, a bit more than that. It tells us the beastmen have a religion. So far, we didn't even have any reason to think they had souls."

"I had not thought of that," Toby admitted.

"It also tells us that they've just had a conversion, and at least one of the converts wasn't exactly wholehearted about it. Wonder who the new god is? And what kinds of methods his missionaries use…" Rod was remembering Constantine's baptism and a new shirt, or death. "But more importantly, it tells us the beastmen's thoughts can be heard when there are very strong emotions behind them—and gives us some reason to think they may be able to hide their thoughts deliberately."

Toby frowned. "Why, how is that?"

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"Because you said the thought ended just after the beast-man realized what he was doing. That means either that he deliberately hid his thoughts somehow, or that his thoughts can only be read when he's at an emotional peak."

"Why, that is so!" Toby looked up at Rod wide-eyed.

Rod squirmed; he hated hero worship, especially when it was directed at him. It made a man feel so responsible… "Of the two, I'd guess they can hide their thoughts. There must've been some sort of strong emotion in them when they sacked the Loguire coast, but no witches heard them."

"But would not a one of them have let slip a thought in the heat of battle?"

Rod nodded. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? So maybe it's the other way around; maybe their thoughts can only be read when they're pushing them out.That surge of thought Matilda picked up sounds like a prayer—and a prayer is deliberately aimed away from yourself; you're trying to reach someone else with that kind of thought."

"Then, let us be glad there is one strong believer amongst them."

"Yes, and that the old gods happened to be out of sight at the moment and needed a strong push behind a prayer if it was going to reach them."

"But how could a god be in sight?" Toby looked puzzled. "They are naught but dreams."

"Point well-taken," Rod admitted, "but the beastmen might not know that yet.

Especially if they've got an idol… Hm! Now you've got me wondering…"

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"About what, Lord Warlock?"

"About their new god. I wonder just how new he is? What he wants his worshippers to do?"

Toby's eyes suddenly lost focus. "Lord Warlock… word from Marion… the dragon ship hath shown no sign of turning in toward shore. It sails on past Bourbon…" He frowned a second in concentration, probably his equivalent of,

"Acknowledged; that's a copy," then turned back to Rod. "The beastmen sail on, northward."

"Then, we'll head north too. Sergeant!" Rod called back over his shoulder. "Turn left at the next crossroad!" He turned back to Toby. "Send word to His Majesty."

"Aye, Lord Warlock." Toby's eyes lost focus again. Rod watched him in silence for a few minutes, till the young warlock's eyes cleared again. He turned to Rod with a half-smile. "His Majesty turns the main army northward. He is quite pleased with his new way of sending messages betwixt the parts of an army.''

"I should think he would be. Any medieval commander would've given his right arm for an advantage like that. You know, Toby, when this is all over I'll bet His Majesty tries to set up a permanent witch-and-warlock network—only for royal messages, of course."

Toby frowned. "That is not wholly a happy thought, Lord Warlock."

"No, neither for you, nor for the general population. Though you must admit it would guarantee you full employment."

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"Fuller than I wish, I doubt not."

"Well, that's a point. It is nice to be able to keep the workday down to eight hours

—and it's even nicer to have some choice as to whether or not you're going to take the job in the first place. No, it's okay for an emergency, but we definitely shouldn't encourage this kind of thing during peacetime."

"Save for thy messages, of course," Toby said with his tongue in his cheek.

"Well, of course. But that's a different case, isn't it? I mean, I'm almost a member of the tribe."

"By marriage," Toby agreed. "Aye, when all's said and done, thou art a warlock."

Rod opened his mouth to deny it, thought what would happen if he did, and closed his mouth again.

The sun was only a red glow behind Rod's right shoulder as he rode down the winding road toward the Romanov beach. "No faster than a trot, Sergeant! Let these folk by! We're here to defend them, not trample them!"

Peasants thronged the road, with huge packs on their backs and handcarts behind them, hauling their few household goods. Rod swore. "They'd take their whole cottages if they could! Well, at least they're not stampeding. Here's the real evidence of the good you've done, Toby."

"How so, Lord Warlock?" Toby reined his horse over to let the peasants pass by.

"Because they've got time to evacuate, thanks to the Magic Early Warning Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html system. They even had time to pack up before they started fleeing!"

The Flying Legion swerved over to the side of the road, single file, following Rod's and Toby's example. The peasants, seeing them coming, struggled to compress their ranks and leave room for them.

"God save the High Warlock and his legion!" a voice yelled, and the whole flowing crowd joined in a ragged cheer. The soldiers grinned and sat a little straighter in the saddle.

"Always nice to be appreciated," Rod observed. Toby smiled, amused.

A hand caught Rod's shin. He looked down into a wrinkled, yellow-eyed face rough with beard stubble. "Drive them away, Lord Warlock! Why can ye not keep 'em from comin'?"

"Off wi' ye, now!" The man behind him gave the old whiner a shove. "Here's men goin''t' mortal danger, and you'd ask 'em to hurry!" Rod smiled his thanks, and the younger man grinned back. "Save your worship!" He hurried on.

"There will ever be such, will there not?" Toby said quietly.

Rod nodded. " 'Save us, save us! And please arrange hotel accommodations while you're doing it!' But there'll always be the ones behind them too, who tell

'em to shut up and let us get on about our business."

They struggled on through the crowd. The peasants streamed by, and they came out onto the beach while the sky still glowed with dusk. A hundred nervous men looked up at the sound of hoofbeats, and raised a frantic cheer. Rod grinned and Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html waved, muttering under his breath, "Gallop, Fess. Make it look good. Pick out their officer and stop on a penny next to him."

The black steel horse leapt into a gallop and thundered around in a curve, pulling up beside a cloaked horseman in plate armor. "Hail, Sir Knight! I am Rod Gallowglass, Lord High Warlock, and these men are His Majesty's Flying Legion."

"Thou art well come indeed!" cried the knight. "Now, praised be King Tuan for your coming!" Which was pretty good, considering that only three years ago this man must've been riding behind his lord, Duke Romanov, against the royal army, such as it had been. "I am Sir Styenkov."

"We're just reinforcements," Rod assured. "I don't want to upset your battle plan; we'll just fall in beside you. What'd you planned?"

"What could I, with only an hundred?" The knight spread his hands helplessly. "

'Tis all that Their Majesties allow us to keep under arms—God save them, 'tis generous to allow even that! But what can they do? Draw up in a line, and wait."

"I suppose so. But I've got two hundred more behind me. And yours are veterans, aren't they?"

Styenkov nodded. "All fought in the rebellion, aye. They are not like to break and flee."

"Then draw 'em back up the beach as far as you can, and let 'em wait. There's only one dragon ship; at least, the witches haven't said anything about there being more than one." He frowned at the thought. "Hm. I've been careless.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html Toby!"

"Aye, Lord Warlock."

"Has anyone done a flyby on the raiders? Actually flown over them, to see how many there are?"

Toby's eyes lost focus for a minute; then they cleared, and he shook his head.

"Nay, milord. None ha' thought to do so."

"Then do it, okay?"

"Aye, milord!" Toby sprang up into the air like a javelin trying for a new record, and disappeared into the fow-hanging clouds. Sir Styenkov stared after him, open-mouthed. Rod turned to follow his gaze. "Hm. Yeah, that could be a problem, couldn't it?"

"Only for the beastmen! What fabulous force hast thou assembled, Lord Warlock?"

"Oh, you mean Toby? No, he's the only one with me; the rest are normal. Picked veterans, every one of 'em, but normal." Rod wondered how true that could be of any native of Gramarye. "No, I was talking about the clouds."

"Oh." For the first time, Styenkov seemed to notice the overcast. "Aye, those clouds look sullen. Well, I've fought in rainaforetimes."

"Me too, and it was a thoroughly nasty business. Still, we can't exactly send out an emissary and ask the beastmen to come back on a clear day, can we? But we Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html might manage a different kind of surprise for them. If you pull your men way back, Sir Styenkov, and mine hide behind those rocks, over there"—he gestured toward an outcrop over to his left—"and behind that shrubbery"—he pointed to a line of trees on the right, that grew down almost to the water's edge.

Sir Styenkov's eyes lighted. "Then the beastmen will charge up to hack at my men, and yours may close upon them, like to the jaws of a vise!"

"Before they get to your men," Rod added. "Though, of course, when they see this beach with good cover at each side, they might smell a trap and decide to go look for easier game."

"I would not object to that…"

A gust of wind fanned Rod's cheek, and Toby said, "There is only the one of them, Lord Warlock."

Sir Styenkov nearly swallowed his beard.

"He has to fly out there because he doesn't know where he's going," Rod explained. "But when he wants to come back he knows where it is, so he can teleport. It's faster that way." He turned to Toby. "How many men?"

"An hundred on deck. There may be more below—but I think not; their ship is small."

"It would have been an even fight without us," Rod observed. "Still, maybe my men can make things move a little faster, save a few lives, things like that."

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"Touching that." Sir Styenkov scratched his nose. "Shall we take prisoners?"

"Huh?" Rod reflected that Sir Styenkov's mood had certainly improved. "Take prisoners? Of course!"

Sir Styenkov nodded. "I had thought so. Thou dost need in-formation, and wish to set them talking, dost thou not?"

"Well, that too," Rod agreed. "But mostly, I want to find out if they can talk.

How far off shore were they, Toby?"

"Mayhap half a mile, milord."

"That sounds like time to get into position." Rod strode off toward his troops, bawling, "Places, everyone!"

As he came up to the Flying Legion, he noticed the locals pulling back up the beach. Good; Sir Styenkov wasn't too overconfident. "Sir Lionel! Sir Hampden!"

"Aye, milord," his lieutenants answered in chorus.

"Sir Lionel, take your hundred over to that outcrop of rocks and hide them. Sir Hampden, take yours over to that line of trees. Charge out to fall upon the enemy when you hear the pipes."

"Aye, milord!" And the two lieutenants turned away, bawling orders to their sergeants. The sergeants started bellowing before the lieutenants had quite finished, and the beach filled with yells and the tramp of troops. In five minutes, it was clear. Rod turned, grinning, to wave to Sir Styenkov; then he turned and Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html loped across the beach to the rock outcrop.

The beach lay empty, waiting. Tiny drops began to fall, scarcely more than a mist. Sir Styenkov's soldiers shifted nervously, muttering to one another. Rod heard a few whispers here and there among his own troops. "Hear any thoughts, Toby?"

"Nay, Lord Warlock." Toby's eyes were unfocused, watching the landscape of the mind rather than the world around him. "Whoever sent that one prayer, prays no longer."

"Then, there's no way of telling how close they are. Can't be long now, though."

In the distance, thunder rumbled.

Then it came, gliding out of the mist with muted splashing —a tall, gaunt serpent, mouth wide in a snarl, wicked horns probing from its forehead.

Shadowy figures moved on its back.

Rod held his breath.

The dragon drove up onto the beach, slowing to a stop with the grinding of sand against wood. Beastmen began to drop off its back—squat, hulking, helmeted shapes, with round shields covering their torsos and heavy, double-bladed axes in their hands.

Rod squinted, trying to make out details through the rain, but it was no use. He could scarcely see more than a silhouette.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"Let me fight, Lord Warlock," Toby hissed in his ear.

Rod whirled, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking his head with a furious scowl. Confound the kid, did he want to give away the whole ambush? Rod could've sworn his lieutenants could've heard that whisper a hundred yards away in the tree line. He wished Toby could read his mind—but he had to settle for a glare and a head-shake. The lad's juvenile male hormones were getting the better of him, urging him on to glory and an early funeral. Which was his own business

—but Rod's business was making sure Toby'd still be alive afterwards for his main assignment. Which would be more than dangerous enough.

The young man stepped back, smoldering.

Rod turned back to the beach just as the beastmen saw Styenkov's soldiers.

Whatever they yelled to each other was lost in a rumble of thunder, but they quickly scuttled into place, pulling themselves into a rough semblance of a line.

Then they began to move forward slowly.

One or two of Styenkov's soldiers began to march toward the beastmen. He shouted them back into line. Good man. The rest of his men brandished their pikes, waiting for the enemy.

The beastmen were halfway up the beach now. Rod could hear a low rumble as they called to one another. They were beginning to realize something was wrong; their tone was one of alarm, and their advance was grinding down to a halt. What was tipping Rod's hand? He darted a glance at Styenkov's soldiers, then looked again. Here and there, a man had straightened up a little, pike drooping—and stood frozen at a completely improbable angle. Rod realized they were the ones who had forgotten the standing order and had looked the enemy Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html square in the eye. Now they were temporary statues, frozen by the Evil Eye.

So it really worked! It wasn't imagination!

But the rest of Styenkov's men were watching the enemy's hands, or feet—and were still very much a menace. The beastmen slowed and stopped—apparently they didn't have too much taste for an even fight. They hunched in on themselves, heads hunkered down; they seemed to be waiting. For what?

The beastmen began to make bellowing noises in deep rumbling bass voices.

Rod suddenly realized that they were calling out in unison. He strained, trying to pick intelligible phonemes out of booming voices. It was getting easier, be-cause they were getting their timing better; it was almost one unified shout now. Rod listened, then shook his head; there was no way of saying what it meant in their own language. To him, though, it sounded like:

"Cobalt! Cobalt! Cobalt!"

… Which was ridiculous; at their level of technology, they couldn't even have the concept of bombs, let alone atomic fission.

Thunder rocked the land, and the beach lit up with an explosion of lightning.

Then there was only gloom again, darker for having had the sudden light. Rod peered through the murk —and stared. Sir Styenkov's men stood frozen in their buskins!

A ragged cheer rumbled up from the beastmen, and they waddled forward, making a grating sound. With a shock, Rod realized they were laughing.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html But they were moving so slowly! Why? Didn't they want to reach their intended victims?

Then Sir Styenkov's whole line lurched forward. Then they lurched again, and again—and, step-stumbling-step, they marched toward their butchers!

Something bumped into Rod's shoulder. He whirled—just in time to catch Toby.

The young warlock's body was rigid, and his eyes had lost focus. Had he been tuned in on a soldier's mind when the Evil Eye froze him?

Then Rod saw one of Styenkov's soldiers slow and stop. His head lifted slowly; then he shivered, looked about him wildly, realized what had happened, set his pike on an enemy, and started marching again with grim purpose. Further down the line, another soldier began to waken, too.

Rod stared down at Toby. The young idiot had found a way to get into the fight after all!

Thunder broke over them, and lightning stabbed the land again.

The soldiers froze solid again, and Toby's whole body whiplashed in a single massive convulsion; then he went limp, eyes closed.

Rod stared, appalled. Then he touched the carotid artery in the boy's throat and felt the pulse. Reassured, he lowered the young warlock. "Fess!"

"Here, Rod." The great black horse loomed up out of the darkness.

"Just stand over him and protect him."

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"But, Rod…"

"No 'buts'!" Rod turned, sprinting away toward the battle-line, whipping out his sword. "Flying Legion! Charge!"

Fess sighed, and stepped carefully over Toby's still form, so that the young warlock lay directly beneath his black steel body.

Rod caught up with Styenkov's line just as they began stumbling toward the beastmen again. He looked from one to another frantically; their eyes were glazed, unseeing.

The beastmen began to waddle forward again, making the chugging, grating noise that passed for laughter with them. Rod whirled about, staring at them, just as they broke into a lumbering run. Rod glanced back at the stumbling soldiers, then ahead; the enemy were only huge, hulking shadows against the gray of stormclouds, great shadows looming closer.

Lightning flashed, and the beastmen roared a cheer. And Rod froze solid, but only with shock—because, for the first time, he had a really good look at a beastman.

And he recognized it.

Neanderthal.

There was no mistaking the sloping forehead, the brow ridges, the chinless jaw, the lump at the base of the skull… He had an overwhelming desire to look one in the mouth and check its dentition.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html Then a chill hand clutched his belly. What could Neanderthals be doing on Gramarye?

Attacking, obviously. He noticed two war clubs swinging up, then starting to swing down toward him. He leaped aside just as the first whistled past him, then threw himself into a lunge, sword arrowing toward the other clubman. Its round shield swung up; the beastman caught Rod's point neatly. For a moment, Rod stared directly into the little piggy eyes over the top of the shield—little piggy eyes that seemed to grow, and glow, with a bright, flaming bead at their centers that probed into his brain, leaving a trail of cold fire that didn't burn, but froze. It fascinated; it held all his attention, numbing his brain, stopping all thought.

Dimly, off to the side, he noticed the huge war club swinging up for another blow; but that didn't matter. All that really mattered was that bright, burning bead at the center of the eyes…

A furious scream rang in his ears, blotting out the sounds of battle, a scream such as a Valkyrie might make if she were ac-tually allowed to attack; and a sudden warmth seemed to wrap around his mind, pushing away the bright, burning bead, away and away until it was only a pair of eyes again… the eyes of a warrior beastman whose huge war club was windmill-ing down to crush Rod's head.

He leaped back, yanking his sword free from the shield, and the club whistled past harmlessly. Behind the round shield, the beastman snarled and swung his club up again. Rod advanced and feinted high, at the face. The shield snapped up to cover, and Rod riposted and slashed downward. The sword-tip whipped across the creature's thighs, tracing a line of bright red. It shrieked, clutching at its legs, and collapsed rolling on the ground. Rod didn't stay to watch; he turned to glance at the battle-line—and saw a war ax swinging straight at his sinuses, with Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html a broad gloating grin behind it (yes, the dentition was right). Rod leaped to the side and chopped down, lopping off the ax-head.

High above him, the Valkyrie screamed again—now he recognized it; he'd heard it just last week, when Gwen had caught Magnus teleporting the cookie jar over to the playpen. Confound it, didn't the woman know he couldn't fight as well if he was worrying about her safety?

On the other hand, she was staying far above the battle-not really in any immediate danger, especially since the beast-men were limited to clubs and axes; not an arrow among the lot of 'em. He swung about, chopping at another Neanderthal. Snarling, four of them turned on him. Beyond them, he saw with shock, half the soldiers lay dead on the beach, their blood pouring into the sand.

Fury boiled up in him, and he bellowed even as he gave ground, sword whirling furiously in feints and thrusts, keeping his attackers back just barely out of club-range. Beyond them, he saw frozen soldiers coming to life again; and a ragged shout of rage went up as they saw their dead companions. The nearest beastman looked back over his shoulder, his swing going wide. Rod thrust in under his shield, and he screamed, doubling over. His companions gave ugly barks, and pressed in. Behirtd them, two soldiers came running up, blades swinging high.

Rod darted back out of the way and braced himself at the sickening thud of steel fnto meat. Their targets dropped, and the remaining beastman whirled on his two attackers in desperation. Rod shouted "Havoc!" and darted in. Startled, the beastman whirled back to face Rod— and doubled over Rod's steel. Rod yanked back just before a pike slammed down to end the warrior's agony. Its owner gave a bloodlust-bellow of victory, and turned back to the battle-line. Rod followed, fighting down sickness. No time for it now; he had to remind the soldiers. "Their eyes! Don't look at their eyes!"

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html So, of course, half of the soldiers immediately confronted the enemy stare-to-stare, and froze in their tracks.

The Valkyrie screamed again, and the soldiers jolted awake. Their pikes lifted just in time to block war axes…

And lightning seared, thunder exploding around it.

As the afterimages ebbed, Rod saw the soldiers standing frozen again. High above him, a sudden wail trailed away.

"Gwen!" Rod bellowed. He stared into the sky, frantically probing the darkness—

and saw the darker shadow hurtling downward. He spun, scrambling back up the beach, then whipped about, staring up at the swooping silhouette, running backward, tracking it as it grew larger and larger…

Then it cracked into him, rock, bone, and sinew. Pain shot through his head, and the sky filled with stars. A myriad of tiny stabs scored his back and sides, and a chorus of cracking sounds, like a forest falling, filled his ears. His diaphragm had caved in; he fought for breath in near-panic. Finally air seeped in; he sucked it thankfully, the more so because it was filled with the perfume he'd given Gwen last Christmas. He looked down at the unguided missile that had flattened him, and at a noble bush that had given its life for the cause. He felt gratitude toward the shrub; Gwen was delicate, but she was no lightweight, especially when she was coming down at twenty miles an hour.

He struggled upward, lifting his wife clear of the bush and laying her carefully out just under the next shrub down the line. As far as he could tell, she was Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html perfectly all right; no breaks or wounds. She'd have a hell of a bruise tomorrow, of course… And she was unconscious; but he was pretty sure that had happened before she fell.

Rain suddenly drenched him. He remembered the last lightning-flash, and turned to look down the beach. Through the downpour he could just barely make out frozen forms toppling, and a dozen or so that fought back. Another lightning-flash showed them clearly laying furiously about them with their pikes; and they kept fighting, even as the lightning faded. A few, then, had heeded him and were watching their enemies' hands and weapons instead of their eyes. Too late to do them much good, though—they were outnumbered three to one.

Rod struggled back to his feet, ungallantly heaving Gwen up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and stumbled blindly back over the scrubline in a shaky trot.

"Fess! Talk me in!"

"Turn toward the sea, Rod," the robot's voice murmured through the earphone set in Rod's mastoid process. "Approach fifty feet… turn right now… another twenty feet…Stop."

Rod dug his heels in, just barely managing to counter Gwen's momentum. He put out a hand and felt the synthetic horsehair in front of him. "Good thing they built your eyes sensitive to infrared," he growled.

He threw Gwen over the saddlebow, then dropped to one knee, reaching under the robot horse to lift Toby's head in the crook of his elbow. He slapped the boy's cheeks lightly, quickly. "Come on, lad, wake up! You've done your bit, contrary to orders; now it's time to get out of here."

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"What… Where…" Toby's eyelids fluttered. Then he looked up at Rod, squinting against a painful headache. "Lord Warlock .'What…"

"You tried to get into the battle by proxy, and got knocked out in person," Rod explained. "Gwen tried the same thing and got the same result. Now we've got to get out of here, before our few remaining soldiers get wiped out. Come on, lad—

up in the air. Let's go!"

Toby stared up at him painfully. Slowly, he nodded. He squeezed his eyes shut, his face screwing up in concentration; then, suddenly, he was gone. Air boomed in to fill the space where he'd been.

Rod leaped up and swung into the saddle, bracing his wife's still form with one hand as he bellowed, "Retreat! Retreat!"

The dozen soldiers left standing leaped backward, then began to yield ground a step at a time. The beastmen roared and followed, but the Gramarye pikes whirled harder than ever with the power of desperation, keeping the Neanderthals at a distance. There were too many beastmen ganging up on each soldier, though; given time, they'd wipe out the Gramarye force.

Rod didn't intend to give them that time. "All right, Iron Horse—now!"

Fess reared back, pawing the air with a whinnying scream. The beastmen's heads snapped up in alarm. Then the great black horse leaped into a gallop, charging down at them. At the last second, he wheeled aside, swerving to run all along their line. The beastmen leaped back in fright, and the soldiers turned and ran.

Fess cleared the battle-line; the beastmen saw their fleeing foes, shouted, and lumbered after them.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html Fess whirled with another scream and raced back along the Neanderthal line.

The beastmen shouted and leaped back—except for one who decided to play hero and turned to face the galloping horse, club raised.

Rod hunkered down and muttered, "Just a little off-center—with English."

Fess slammed into the Neanderthal, and he caromed off the horse's chest with a howl. He landed twenty feet away, and was silent. His companions stood poised, wavering.

On the saddlebow, Gwen stirred, lifting her head with a pained frown. She took one look and grasped the situation.

The beastmen growled to one another, softly at first, but gaining volume and anger. They began to waddle back up the beach, their low, ugly rumble filling the air.

Gwen's eyes narrowed, and the beastmen's clubs exploded into flame.

They howled, hurling their clubs after the Gramarye soldiers, turned, and ran.

Gwen glared after them. Then her head began to tremble, and she collapsed again.

"Retreat!" Rod snapped. Fess pivoted and raced back up the beach after the soldiers.

They came to rest high in the rocks atop the cliff, behind the long, sloping beach.

"You did well," Rod assured the soldiers. "No one could have done better."

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html One of the men spread his hands helplessly. "How can we fight an enemy who can freeze us in our tracks, milord?"

Rod dismounted and lifted Gwen down tenderly. "I think my wife's given us the basic idea. I'll work it out with her when she comes to." He knelt, lowering Gwen to the ground behind two boulders, cradling her head and shoulders against his chest. He winced at a sudden pain in his arm and remembered a club hitting him there. He remembered a few other blows, too, now that he thought about it. With the adrenaline of battle beginning to wear off, the bruises were beginning to hurt. With surprise, he noticed a bright crimson streak across his chest—one of the ax-blows had come closer than he'd realized. When he understood just how close, he began to get the shakes. He clamped down on them sternly; there'd be time for that later. "What're they doing, men?"

"They begin to feel brave again, milord." One of the soldiers was lying among the seaward rocks, peering out between two boulders. "They are stepping away from their dragon."

"Any sign of the villagers?"

"None, milord. All fled in time."

Rod nodded. "Well, it's a shame about the village, but they can rebuild it."

" 'Tis not destroyed yet, milord."

"Yet," Rod echoed. "There's a wineskin in my saddlebag, boys. Pass it around."

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html A soldier leaped and wrenched the wineskin out. He squirted a long streak into his mouth, then passed it to his comrade.

"Toby!" Rod yelled. Nothing happened.

Gwen stirred in Rod's arms, squinting against a raging headache, looked up, saw Rod, and relaxed, nestling against his chest, closing her eyes. "I am safe."

"Praise Heaven," Rod breathed.

"What doth hap, my lord?"

"We lost, darling. You came up with a good idea, but they outnumbered you."

She shook her head, then winced at the pain it brought. "Nay, my lord. 'Twas the lightning."

"Lightning?" Even through his exhaustion, Rod felt something inside him sit up and take notice. "Well…"

"Milord," the sentry called, "fire blossoms in the village."

Rod nodded with a grimace. "Whole place'll be one big torch in a few minutes.

The beastmen won't find much to pick there, though. Peasants don't own much—

and what they do have they can carry."

"There is the granary, milord," one of the locals pointed out, "and the smokehouse."

Rod shrugged. "So they'll have a picnic on the way home. Don't worry, lad—the Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html King and Queen will send you food for the winter. Grain they could've had for the asking." He looked down at Gwen. "Can you find Toby, darling?"

Gwen nodded and closed her eyes, then winced. Rod felt a stab of guilt—but he needed the young warlock.

Air slammed outward with a soft explosion, and Toby stood before him. "Milord Warlock?"

One of the soldiers stared, then turned away, muttering and crossing himself.

Rod pretended not to notice. "Feel up to some action again?"

"Assuredly, an thou dost wish it, milord." Toby's knees were shaking with exhaustion.

"I do," Rod said. "I hate to ask it of you, but we've got to salvage something out of this. When they ship out, can you follow them?"

Toby stared off into space for a moment, then nodded. "There are clouds. They will not see me."

"You don't have to go all the way," Rod pointed out. "Just see 'em on their way, then call for one of your mates. He can teleport out to you, and you can disappear. Just get them started."

Toby nodded slowly. "Wise, milord. We will."

"The flames slacken, milord."

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"Yes. Thank heaven for the rain." But Rod looked up, frowning; the sentry's voice had changed. A different soldier lay among the rocks, his arm in a fresh, gleaming sling.

Rod stared. "Hey—who gave you that?"

The sentry looked up, surprised, then nodded toward another soldier who sat, teeth gritted against pain, while a chubby figure in a brown robe wrapped linen around a long gash in his arm.

"Father Chillde," Rod said slowly.

The monk looked up, then smiled sadly. "I fear I have come too late, Milord Gallowglass. At least I may be of some service now."

"We appreciate it, of course—but the chaplain doesn't have to come into battle."

The sad smile stayed. "There are two ways of thinking of that, milord."

Nice to know they had a dedicated one—and his mere presence was definitely a comfort to the soldiers. Him, and the wine.

"They move back toward their ships," the sentry reported.

"There will be much work for me when they have gone," the priest said sadly.

Rod shook his head. "I don't think so, Father. From what I saw during battle, they didn't leave any wounded."

The priest's mouth pressed thin. " 'Tis to be lamented. But there will be other Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html work, more's the pity."

Rod turned toward him, frowning. "What…? Oh. Yeah—the Last Rites." He turned back toward the beach. "But it won't just be our dead down there, Father.

How about the beastmen? Think they have souls?"

"Why—I had not thought of it," the priest said, surprised. "But is there reason to think they would not?"

One of the soldiers growled a reply.

The monk shook his head. "Nay, goodman. I ha' known Christian men to do worse—much worse."

"/ would, could I but get one of them alone," another soldier snarled.

"There—do you see?" The priest spread his hands. "Still, souls or none, I misdoubt me an they be Christian."

"They called upon their false god at the battle's beginning, did they not?"

"Was that the burden of their chant?" another soldier wondered. " 'Go Bald,' was it not?"

"Something of the sort," the first growled.

Rod frowned; he'd heard 'Cobalt,' himself. Well, each interpreted it according to words he knew. What did it really mean, though? He shrugged; it could be some sort of heathen god, at that.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"They have boarded their ship," the sentry called. "They are launching… they turn…"

"May I build a fire now?" Father Chillde asked.

Rod shrugged. "Please do, Father—if you can find shelter for it and anything dry enough to burn." He turned to the young warlock. "Sure you feel up to it, Toby?"

The esper nodded, coming to his feet. He was looking a little better, having rested. "I will start them, at least. When I've learned the trick of following a ship without being seen, I'll call another of our band and teach it to him."

Rod nodded. "See you soon, then, Toby."

"Thou shalt, Lord Warlock." Toby sprang into the air. The soldiers stared after him, gasping, as he soared up and up, then arrowed away over the waves. A few crossed themselves, muttering quick prayers.

"There is no need for that," Father Chillde said sharply. "He is naught but a man, like to yourselves, though somewhat younger and with a rare gift. But he is not proof 'gainst arrows or spears; if you would pray, beseech God for his safety."

*

Rod stared at the chubby priest, surprised. Then he nodded his head in slow approval.

"He has gone through the clouds," the sentry reported.

Rod nodded. "Wise, once he's figured out which way they're headed. He'll Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html probably drop down for a quick peek now and then, just to check on them."

"They have crossed the bar," the sentry reported. "They stand out to sea."

Rod sighed and came to his feet, cradling Gwen in his arms. "It's over, men.

Let's go."

Below them, on the beach, the village smoldered.

"Nay, my lord. 'Twas the lightning, I am certain of it!" Gwen spoke calmly, but her chin was a little more prominent than usual.

"Lightning!" Queen Catharine cried. She threw her hands in the air. "Why not the thunder, then? Or the wind, or the rain? Lightning, i' sooth!"

"Nay, Majesty—hear her out." Tuan touched her arm gently, restraining—but Rod noticed he'd become awfully formal all of a sudden.

" 'Majesty,' indeed!" Catharine stormed, turning on him. "What wouldst thou, mine husband? To blame it on the lightning! Nay, 'twas these beastmen only—

themselves, and no more! They are vile sorcerers, and the spawn of Hell!"

"You may have a point there," Rod admitted. "We're not really disagreeing, you see—we're just getting into the how of their sorcering."

"Why, by peering into thine eye," Catharine shrieked, whirling back on him.

"Lightning, forsooth! Was it at lightning that thy soldiers stared?"

"Nay, certes," Gwen said wearily. " 'Tis true, when they stared at the beastmen's Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html eyes, then could the beastmen cast their spell. And 'tis a foul spell!" She shuddered. "I had some taste of it when I sought to lift it. 'Tis a vile thing that doth fascinate with ugliness!"

" 'Fascinate' is the term," Rod agreed. "They focused all the soldiers' attention on one single point—the beastmen's pupils. Then…"

"Then they could spare no attention for fighting?" Tuan nodded heavily. "Vile, indeed, that will not even allow a soldier the chance of defense."

Catharine rounded on Gwen. "Hast thou never encountered a spell like to this before?"

"There are tales of it," Gwen said slowly, "of the Evil Eye. I, though, have never found it in life."

"I have," Rod said slowly, "though it was a milder version."

Tuan frowned. "When?"

"In prefligh… uh, in apprenticeship," Rod hedged, "when I was being trained in the, uh"—he took a deep breath and gave up on honesty—"in the wizardry I use.

This particular form of magic was called 'hypnotism,' but it looked a lot like this Evil Eye. It came to .the same thing in the long run; it's just that they had to do it much more slowly."

"Aye, therein is it most phenomenal." Tuan frowned. "How can they fascinate so quickly?"

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"Therein I have some experience," Gwen said slowly. " 'Tis a matter of throwing one's thoughts into another's mind."

Fess's voice murmured in Rod's ear, "Your wife is describing projective telepathy, Rod."

"Scientific terminology is wonderful," Rod growled. "It lets skeptics believe in magic. In fact, it transforms them into instant authorities."

Catharine turned on him, glowering. "Of whom dost thou speak, sirrah?"

Not you, Rod thought, remembering the rumors that the Queen had a touch of

'witch-power' herself. Aloud, he said, " To whom is more the point—and the problem is that the beastmen do it to whomever they want. I think we've got a pretty good idea of how they do it now—but how do we fight back?"

"Why, as we did." Gwen looked up in surprise.

Rod frowned down at her. " 'We'?" He felt a chill trickle down his back.

"Toby and I," Gwen explained. "What we did was even as thou didst say, mine husband—we cast our thoughts into the soldiers' minds and made them see what the glowing point at which they stared was in truth—naught but a pair of tiny eyes. We made them see again the face around the eyes, and the body 'neath the face."

"Yeah," Rod said with a curt nod. "Then they stepped up the strength of their Evil Eye and knocked you both out."

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html But Gwen shook her head. "Not 'they,' milord. 'Twas the lightning."

Catharine threw up her hands in despair and whirled away.

"Lightning or not, they did knock you out," Rod growled, "and you'll pardon me, but I didn't like the look of it."

Gwen spread her hands. "What wouldst thou, my lord? There were but Toby and myself—and we acted at the same moment, but not in concert."

"Huh?" Rod's scowl deepened. " 'Not in concert'? What did you want—a drum-and-bugle corps?"

"Nay, my lord." Gwen visibly fought for patience. "We could not join our powers

—and there were too many soldiers for poor two of us. We did attempt to cast our thoughts into all their minds—but we did it side by side, not by blending both our powers into one."

"I take it you think it's possible to merge your powers," Rod said softly.

"Mayhap." Gwen frowned, gaze drifting to the window. "When two who can hear thoughts do touch, there is ever some greater sense of contact—threat, I should say; for I've never known two who have risked reaching out through touch to thoughts."

The door shot open, and Brom O'Berin stumped in, followed by two men-at-arms, each with a shoulder under one of Toby's arms. The young warlock limped between them, panting, "Nay! I… I can bear mine own…"

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"Thou canst scarcely bear thine head upon thy shoulders, now," Brom growled.

"Indeed, an thou wert a crab tree, thou couldst not bear an apple. There," he said to the two men-at-arms, nodding toward a chair. They lowered the young warlock carefully, and he sagged back, mouth gaping open, eyes closed, panting in huge hoarse gasps.

"What ails him?" Gwen cried.

"Naught but exhaustion." Brom's mouth held tight. "Were his news not vital, I would have sent him to his bed."

"Young idiot! I told him to call for a relief!" Rod strode over to the teenager and caught up a wrist, feeling for the pulse. "Didn't you bring any wine?"

Brom turned to the doorway and snapped his fingers. A page scurried in, wide-eyed and apprehensive, bearing a tray with a flagon and a flask. Brom caught them up, poured the mug half-full, and held it to Toby's lips. "A sip only, my lad, then a draught. Attempt it, there's a good fellow."

Toby sipped, and promptly coughed. Rod thumped him on the back till the boy nodded weakly, then sipped again. It stayed down, so he took a big swallow.

"Feel a little better now?" Rod asked.

Toby nodded and sighed.

"Don't fall asleep on us," Rod said quickly. "What did you see?"

"Only the dragon ship, and miles and miles of water," Toby sighed. "I sickened Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html at the sight. I swear I'll never drink the stuff again!" And he took a long pull on the wine.

"Steady there, now," Rod cautioned. "So they sailed a lot. Which way did they go?"

"West," Toby said firmly, "west and south. I called for Giles, and set him to the following, whiles I appeared upon my bed and slept till he did call to say he'd sighted land. Then I appeared beside him and sent him home. He was sorely tired, seest thou, whilst I was fresh."

From the gray cast of the youth's face, Rod doubted that. "There was also a little matter of possible danger if you'd reached their homeland."

"Well, that too," Toby admitted. "In any case, the journey's end was mine affair.

The danger was not great; the sky was lightening but not yet dawning, and clouds still hung low and heavy."

"E'en so, I had hoped thou wouldst not take too great a chance," Gwen said.

"What had the beastmen come home to?"

"A bend of land in the coastline," Toby explained, "low land, with high sky-reaching cliffs behind it a mile or two from shore."

Rod nodded. "How big was the low land?"

"Mayhap some five miles wide."

"He describes an alluvial plain," Fess's voice murmured in Rod's ear.

Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html

"You're a better observer than I knew," Rod told the youth. "What was on the plain?"

"A village." Toby looked up at him. "Huts of daub and wattle, at a guess—round and with thatched roofs. Around and about their fields they did lie, with greening crops."

"Farmers?" Rod frowned, puzzled. "Not the kind of people you'd expect to go pillaging. Any idea how many huts there were?"

Toby shook his head. "More than I could count at ease, Lord Warlock. 'Twas as far across as any village I ha' seen in Gramarye."

"Village," Rod repeated. "Not a town?"

Toby pursed his lips. "Well… mayhap a small town… Still, the houses were set far apart."

"Maybe a thousand households, then. How'd they react when they saw the dragon ship come back?"

"They did not," said Toby.

"What?" Rod gawked. "They didn't react? Not at all?"

"Nay—they did not see it. 'Twas not yet dawn, as I've said, and the dragon ship did not come to the village. Nay, it sailed instead to southward, and found a narrow river-mouth just where the cliffs came down to join the water. Then the beast-men unshipped oars and furled their sail and rowed their ship upstream, Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock 03 - King Kobold Revived (v1.0) (html).html until they slipped into a crack within the cliff-wall from which their river issued."

"A crack." Rod kept his face expressionless.

Toby nodded. " 'Twas a crack thou couldst have marched thy Flying Legion through, milord; but in that vast wall of rock 'twas nonetheless a crack."

"So they sailed into a river-pass." Rod frowned, trying to make sense of it.

"What happened then?"