"And 'twas quite wearying," Geoffrey seconded.

"Wearying! Sure and I thought ye did love a good fight!"

"I do," the boy yawned, "yet 'tis wearying nonetheless.!'

"Wherefore ought we to wake, when Puck doth not?" Magnus groused.

"He rose up before ye, and went ahead to spy out the countryside. Ye'll not go unwarned into danger again, says he! So come, awake!"

"Let me sleep a bit more," Cordelia murmured, burrowing her head back into her rolled-cape pillow.

But a velvet nose nuzzled her cheek, and she looked up to see the unicorn standing over her, silver in the dark. With a glad cry, she leaped up to throw her arms about the creature's neck.

The boys rose more slowly, but with much chivying, Kelly managed to persuade the children to wash. With a splash of cold water on their faces and a double handful of wild berries in their stomachs, they felt bright enough to trudge out of the forest.

They came into pastureland, and the cool, moist air, coupled with the sight of the early sun, raised their spirits enough so that they began singing as they wended their way down a cow-track, with Fess, who had finally found them again after their adventure with the troll, trudging contentedly behind them. Geoffrey even felt lively enough to fly a few. feet every other bar.

At the top of his third flight, he suddenly fell silent and dropped back to earth hissing, "Hush! 'Tis four hulking thieves, or I mistake quite!"

Gregory bobbed up to take a look, but Magnus caught him by the ankles and hauled him back down. "Nay! If there be evil men, it most becomes children to be unseen and unheard!"

They went forward in silence, stealing into the hedgerow at the edge of the field and peeking out. They saw a dusty road. Off to their right, it met another such track to form a cross-road, marked by a huge stone cross. To their left, four beefy men came swaggering along, guffawing and bellowing.

"Eh, but didn't he run, though!"

'"Twas well for him, or we'd have left his carcass for crow-meat!"

"Nay, nay! We could ha' guv him as fancy a funeral as any village priest!"

"Surely we could have—he'd paid dearly enough for it." The biggest man chortled and held up a leather bag as big as his head.

"Aye," growled the shortest and most burly man, "yet we've not split it up into shares! And if I don't have mine soon, Borr, 'tis your corpse we'll bury, not his!"

Anger sparked in the eyes of the man called Borr, but he managed to smother it under a cardboard smile. "Eh, now! Would I cheat ye, Morlan?"

"Only an I did let ye," Morlan rumbled.

The anger glinted in Borr's eyes again, but he managed to keep the smile in place. "Why, comrade! Never would I! 'Tis only that we did need to be far enough from the ambush, lest that fat merchant might summon the Reeve!"

"So ye said," one of the other thugs growled, "but we're far enough now."

"Aye." Morlan pointed at the stone cross. "Yon's Arlesby Cross. 'Tis two miles we've come. Is that not enough?"

"Aye, 'tis indeed!" Borr agreed. "And there's the offering-stone before the rock! Others may leave food for the fairies on it—but 'tis in my mind 'twill make an excellent counting-table for us! Come, comrades!"

The four men strolled up to the cross.

They are robbers! Gregory thought.

Thieves, who've robbed a fat merchant, Geoffrey agreed.

'Tis outrage! Cordelia's thoughts were fiery.What harm had that poor man done them ?

Ask rather, who would harm them for robbing him? Geoffrey retorted.

Magnus set his hand on his dagger.

A small hand grasped his thumb with an iron grip. "Nay!" Kelly hissed. "Ye cannot save the poor merchant now—his gold's already stolen!"

"We might return it to him," Magnus pointed out.

" 'Tis not worth hazarding yerselves!"

" 'Tis no hazard," Geoffrey grated.

"Mayhap ye are right—yet reflect! The Puck is not by ye now, if ye're wrong!"

Geoffrey hesitated.

The four robbers squatted down around the offering-stone, and Borr upended the bag. Coins tumbled out, and the men hooted delight.

"One for ye, Morlan!" Borr shoved a gold piece toward the squat man. "And one for ye, Gran—and one for ye, Croll…"

"And all for me!" rumbled a voice like the grinding of a mill wheel. Out from behind the stone cross he came—eight-feet tall at least, and four-feet across the shoulders. His arms were thick as tree trunks, and his legs were pillars. The cudgel he swung in his right hand was as big as Magnus, and probably heavier. His shaggy black hair grew low on his forehead; his eyes seemed small in his slab of a face, and his grin showed yellowed, broken teeth. "Nay, then!" he boomed. "Bow down, wee men! 'Tis your master Groghat who speaks!"

The robbers stared at him for one terrified instant. Then they leaped up and ran—except for Morlan, who swept the coins back into the bag before he turned to flee.

Groghat caught him by the back of his collar and yanked him off his feet.

Morlan squalled in terror, and Groghat plucked the moneybag out of his hands before he threw him after his mates. Morlan howled as he shot through the air, spread-eagled, and Borr yowled in pain as Morlan crashed into him. Gran and Croll, the fourth robber, kept running, but Groghat passed them in a few huge loping strides and slewed to a halt, facing them with a scowl and a lifted bludgeon. "I bade thee bow!"

Gran faced him, knees trembling and face ashen. Slowly, he bent his back in a bow—but Croll whirled toward the trees at the side of the road.

Groghat's club slammed into the man's belly, and the rob-ber fell, curled around the agony in his midriff, mouth spread wide, struggling for the breath that would not come. The giant stood over him, glowering down at Morlan and Borr.

Slowly, they bowed.

"'Tis well," Groghat rumbled. "Be mindful henceforth—I am thy master.

Whatsoe'er thou dost steal, thou shalt bring three parts out of four unto me."

"Nay!" Morlan bleated. "'Tis we who do steal it, we who run the risk of a hang…"

The huge club slammed into his ribs and something cracked. He fell, screaming.

"And do not seek to withhold aught," Groghat bellowed over the noise, "for I shall know, soon or late, who hath taken what, and shall find thee wheresoe'er thou dost roam!"

"Nay!"

"Nay, Groghat, we never would!"

"Three parts out of four to thee, Groghat, ever, henceforth!"

The giant glared down at them, nodding slowly. "See thou dost not forget."

He nudged Morlan with his foot. "Take thy fools, and be gone."

"Aye, Groghat! Even as thou sayest!" Gran knelt to pull Morlan's arm over his,shoulders. Morlan screamed in pain.

Borr stood looking up at the giant. He was trembling, but he plucked up his courage to ask, "Art not afeard of Count Glynn? Assuredly, thou art mighty—but how wilt thou fare an he doth come against thee with an hundred men, armored?"

Groghat laughed, a sound like marbles rolling down a sheet of iron, and pulled something out of the wallet that hung from his belt. "Look and see!" he bellowed.

Borr took a hesitant step, eyeing Groghat warily.

"Nay, be not afeard!" the giant rumbled. "I'll not smite thee now. Come and see!"

He doth wish them to look, Geoffrey thought.He doth wish to boast .

Borr looked down into the giant's cupped palm and his bream rasped in, harsh with dismay. " 'Tis Count Glynn's signet ring!"

"The same," Groghat laughed, "and I assure thee, I did not find it by the side of the road!"

Borr lifted his gaze to the huge face, trembling. "Hast thou then slain him?"

"What! Throw aside a counter for bargaining? Nay!"

Groghat laughed with contempt. "What would I do then, if the Duke and his horse and foot came against me, eh? What would I donow ? Nay, ask!"

"What wouldst thou do now, if the Duke came against thee with all his horse and all his men?" Borr asked, quavering.

"Why, bid him, 'Hold, or I will slay them! Slay Count Glynn, and his wife and babes!" Groghat cried. "Would he charge me then? Nay!"

He holds them imprisoned! Cordelia thought, appalled.

We must rescue! Geoffrey clenched the nearest branch so hard his knuckles whitened.

"Hold fast," Kelly hissed, laying a hand on his shoulder. "He will not kill them, as thou hast now heard. No further harm will come to them—yet it might, to thee."

"Aye, quake!" Groghat laughed, "Tremble, and rightly! For 'tis I who rule this county now, and all must pay me tribute!"

"Aye, Groghat!" Borr was nodding so quickly it seemed his head might fall off. "All shall be as thou dost say, Groghat!"

"Be sure that it will," the giant rumbled. "Will you or nill you! Nay, be assured

—I will not take all thou dost steal. Wherefore ought I? For then thou wouldst steal no longer, and I wish thee to—to keep garnering gold for me. Yet thou wilt give to me three gold pieces of each thou dost steal, and three of each four silver and copper, also!"

"Aye, Groghat!"

"Even as thou dost say, Groghat!"

"Be sure of it!" The huge club hissed through the air and slammed into Borr, sending him flying with a yelp. Groghat laughed as he tied the moneybag to his belt.

"That will ensure thy memory! Forget me not! Now up, and away—the whole day lies before thee, and thou hast much stealing to do for me!" And he turned away, guffawing and beating the money-bag in time to his footsteps as he strode away down the road.

Borr and Croll hauled themselves to their feet, groaning.

"Here, then! Aid me with him!" Gran cried.

Borr turned, frowning at Morlan, then nodded. "Aye. He did, at the least, fight the ogre." He reached down.

"Not the arm—he hath broken ribs on that side," Gran cautioned. Together, they helped the moaning man to his feet.

" 'Twill heal, Morlan, 'twill heal," Gran soothed.

"Yet will we?" Borr muttered as they turned away. "We must now rob whether we wish to or not!"

"Oh, be still! Thou knowest thou didst wish to," Morlan groaned.

"Aye," Borr admitted, "yet to keep only one coin out of four!"

" ''Tis one more than thou wouldst have otherwise," Morlan growled. "But help me to a bandage and a bed! Then give me two days, and I'll aid thee in robbing again!"

And they went off down the road, grumbling and moaning.

"Nay, 'tis scandalous!" Geoffrey hissed, as soon as they were out of hearing.

"Will the roads not be safe for any man now?"

"At the least, we know now why Count Glynn did not summon his knights to battle Count Drosz," Gregory pointed out.

"Even so," Magnus said with a scowl. "There will be no government henceforth—he who hath seized rule, will do naught but take money!"

"'Tis outrage!" Geoffrey exclaimed. "The Count can no longer protect his people—and this giant will encourage bandits, not stop them!"

"No woman or child will be safe now," Cordelia whispered.

"Out upon him!" Geoffrey cried. "Let us slay this vile giant!"

"Nay, children, stay!" Kelly warned. "''Tis not a common man ye would fight now, but a monster!"

"And was that dragon a garden lizard?" Geoffrey countered.

" 'Gainst that dragon, thou hadst the power of the unicorn to aid thee—but what aid will she be 'gainst a fell man of that size? Nay, Groghat might catch and hurt her!"

"Oh, nay!" Cordelia cried, flinging her arms about the unicorn's neck.

Kelly pressed his advantage. "And thou didst have the Puck's magic to strengthen thine. Wilt thou not wait till he doth rejoin thee?"

"But this monster must not be left an hour, nay, a minute, to strike terror into our neighbors!"

"And who will take up the reins of governance when he hath dropped them?"

Kelly demanded. "Nay, ye must free the count and his wife and children ere thou dost seek to battle the giant!"

"Why, then, lead us to them!" Geoffrey said.

"Thou carest not which battle thou hast, so long as thou hast battle," Cordelia scoffed.

"Thou dost me injustice!" Geoffrey turned on Cordelia, clenching his fists.

"'Tis true." Magnus slid artfully between them. "Thou must needs own, sister, that thy brother doth contain his hunger for fighting 'till he doth find a brawl that will aid other folk!"

"Aye, 'tis true," Cordelia sighed, "and here's a brawl that will aid them surely."

"Then let us to it!" With the children safely sidetracked, Kelly could let his own anger boil up. "The gall of him, to strike at a woman and babes! Onward, children! For we'll find and free that count, and he'll call up his knights! Then may ye aid him in making that giant into a doormat for the town gates!"

"Aye!" the children shouted, and followed the leprecohen.

The boys decided flying was faster, but Cordelia wouldn't leave her unicorn, so they flew down the road to either side of her, with Gregory perched astride the unicorn's neck just in front of Cordelia with an ear-to-ear grin, thumping the poor beast's withers and howling, "Giddyap! Giddyap!"

"Wherefore hath the beast come to tolerate him, yet not us?" Geoffrey called to Magnus.

His big brother caught the blackness of his mood and shouted back,

"Mayhap because Gregory is so tiny. Contain thyself, brother!"

Geoffrey lapsed into a simmering glower.

Fess brought up the rear with Kelly dodging between his hooves and howling,

"Ye great beast! Tread more softly!"

As they rode, clouds drifted across the sky, and the day turned gray. Kelly lifted his head and sniffed the air. "Sure and it's rain I'm smelling!"

"An analysis of local meteorological conditions indicates a high probability of precipitation," Fess agreed.

Thunder rumbled, not terribly far away.

"Ought we not seek shelter?" Cordelia asked.

"'Twould be wise," Kelly agreed, and swerved off the road into the trees.

"Turn, Iron Horse! At the least, the rain will reach us less beneath leaves."

Thunder rumbled again, and the first raindrops sprinkled the road as the children turned to follow Kelly. They thrashed

their way through the underbrush at the side of the road. After fifty feet or so, the forest floor became relatively clear, as the deep shade of the towering trees cut off sunlight from the small growth. There were still roots and saplings, so the unicorn and the robot-horse couldn't really run. They hurried as quickly as they could, though, trotting. Kelly led the way, dodging saplings and vaulting tree roots.

" 'Tis a hut!" Geoffrey cried, pointing.

The children looked up, then swerved off after him with glad cries. The unicorn followed, responding to Cordelia's nudge.

"Nay, children!" Kelly cried. "Will ye not heed? There's something about that hut I like not!"

But the children ran blithely on.

He frowned up at Fess. "Hast thou naught to say? Do ye not also mislike it?"

The great black horse nodded.

Kelly ducked into a hollow at the base of a tree and dropped down, cross-legged, folding his arms. "I'll not move from here! Do as I do, ye great beast

—will ye not? Let's bide here without, and watch and wait, so we can spring to their aid if they need us."

Fess nodded again, and crowded up against the tree, to block the rain from Kelly's doorway.

The two older boys shot through the window. The unicorn pulled up short at the doorway. Cordelia sprang down, and hammered on the panel. It swung open, and Geoffrey stood there. "Who would it be, calling at this time of the day? Eh! We have no need of your ware!"

"Oh, be not so silly!" Cordelia ducked in through the doorway, hauling Gregory with her. She stopped and looked around in surprise. "Doth none live here then?"

"If one doth, he is not at home." Geoffrey looked around at the empty interior. Gregory scuttled past his hip.

Cordelia turned to look up at the unicorn. "Will you not come in, then?"

The unicorn tossed her head and turned away, trotting back toward the wood.

"Come back!" Cordelia cried.

The silver beast turned and looked back, tossing her head and pawing the turf. Then she whirled away, trotting off among the trees.

"Hath she left again, then?" Geoffrey said hopefully.

"Oh, be still!" Cordelia turned back, tilting her nose up. "She doth but seek her own form of shelter. I misdoubt me an she doth not trust housen."

"Nor do I." Magnus was looking around the hut with a frown. "How can this chamber be so much larger than it seemed from the outside?"

Cordelia shrugged and went to sit on a three-legged stool by the fireplace.

"All houses do seem smaller from without."

"Yet 'twas not a house—'twas but a hut of sticks! And here within, 'tis a solid house of timbers, with walls of wattle and daub!" Magnus went over to the table set against one wall and frowned up at the shelves above it. "What manner of things are these?" He pointed from one bottle to another. "Eye of newt… fur of bat… venom of viper…"

"They are the things of magic," Gregory said, round-eyed.

Magnus nodded somberly. "I think that thou hast the right of it. And they are not the cleanly things, such as old Agatha doth use when she doth brew potions, but foul and noisome." He turned back to his brothers and sister. "This is a witch's house, and worse—'tis a sorcerer's!"

The door slammed open, and a tall old man hunched in, face and form shrouded by a hooded robe. A yellowed beard jutted out of its shadow, wiggling as he swore to himself, "What ill chance, that such foul weather should spring up! What noisome hag hath enchanted the clouds this day?" He dropped a leather pouch on the table in the center of the room. "At the least, ere dawn, I gained the graveyard earth I sought —so the trek served its purpose." He yanked off his robe, muttering to himself, went to hang it by the fire—and stopped, staring down at Cordelia.

She shrank back into the inglenook, trying hard to make herself invisible.

The old man was tattered and grubby, wearing a soiled tunic and cross-gartered hose. His face was gaunt, with a hooked blade of a nose and yellowed, bloodshot eyes beneath stringy hair that straggled down from a balding pate—hair that might have been white, if he had washed it more often. Slowly, he grinned, showing a few yellow teeth—most of them were missing. Then he chuckled and stepped toward Cordelia, reaching out a hand blotched with liver-spots.

"Stand away from my sister!" Geoffrey cried, leaping between them.

The sorcerer straightened, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Eh! There's another of them!" He turned, saw Gregory and, behind him, Magnus, hunched forward, hands on their daggers—but he saw also the fear in the backs of their eyes.

He laughed, a high, shrill cackle, as he whirled to slam the door shut and drop a heavy oaken bar across it. "I have them!" he crowed, "I have them! Nay, just the things, the very things that I'll need!"

"Need?" Dread hollowed Magnus's voice. "What dost thou speak of?"

"What dost thou think I speak of?" the sorcerer spat, whirling toward him. He stumped forward with a malevolent glint in his eye. "What manner of house dost thou think thou hast come to, child?"

Magnus swallowed heavily and said, "A sorcerer's."

"Eh-h-h-h." The sorcerer nodded slowly, a gleam in his eye. "Thou hast sense, at the least. And what doth a sorcererdo , lad?"

"He doth… doth brew… magics."

"Well! So thou knowest that little, at least! Yet the better sorcerers do seek to discover new magics—as I do. For I am Lontar, a sorcerer famed throughout the countryside for weird spells and fell!"

The children stiffened, recognizing the name of the man who had cursed old Phagia.

Again, the gap-toothed grin. "And I've found one that will give me power over every soul in this parish! Nay, further— in the county, mayhap the whole kingdom!"

Gregory stared up at the old man's eyes and thought,He is mad .

"Hush!" Magnus hissed, clapping a hand onto his shoulder, for Gregory had not cast his thoughts in their family's private way. But Lontar's grin widened.

"Patience—he is young. He knoweth not yet that all witch-folk can hear one another's thoughts. But I…" he tapped his chest. "I am more. I can make others hearmy thoughts—aye, even common folk, lowly peasant folk, with not one grain of witch-power in their brains!"

The children were silent, staring at him.

The sorcerer cackled, enjoying their fright. "Yet 'tis not thoughts alone I can send, nay! For years I have studied, trying and trying, again and again, whetting my powers with one weird brew after another—yet I have learned the craft of it, aye, learned it until I can work this spell without drinking even a drop of the potion, nor a whiff of its fumes! First with mere earthworms, then with the robins who came for them, then with field mice, rabbits, wolves, bears—all, all now cower before me! All shrink and howl, turn and flee, when I do cast this into their brains!"

"Cast what?" Even Geoffrey could not quite disguise the dread in his voice.

"Why… pain!" The sorcerer cackled with high glee. "'Tis pain, pure! Pain, searing pain, as though thy head did burn, and thy whole body did scream with the stings of a thousand bees! 'Tis pain, pain, the root of all power—for pain doth cause fear, and fear doth make all to obey! Yet!" He speared a long, bony forefinger straight up. "My work is not done! I cannot yet go forth, to take rule of the county!

For I've not done with the last task!"

"And what task is that?" Magnus's voice trembled in spite of all his efforts; he could feel the feared answer coming.

"Why, people! Casting the pain into the minds of real people! With bears I have done it, with wolves, but never with people!" The sorcerer's eyes glittered. "To make human brains flame, to make mortal folk scream at my mere thought! And why have I not? Why, 'tis that I've never found folk with whom I could attempt it! Long have I sought some, to use for my learning—yet never did they come, strangers and alone, into my wood. Ever, ever did they come accompanied, three or four grown ones together—or they had folk who would seek them, an they did not return!"

"So have we!" Geoffrey said stoutly. "We too have folk who will scour this forest, an we come not home!"

"Thou dost lie." The sorcerer leveled a forefinger at him. "Never have I set eyes upon thee before; thou art not of this parish; thou art come from afar. And thou hast come without parents! None do so—save orphans! Or ones who do flee!" He cackled with glee at his own cleverness. "Nay, none will come seeking thee—and if they did, who would know where thou hast gone?"

"But the count!" Magnus cried, grasping at straws. "The count would call his men out against thee!"

"The count!" Lontar crowed. "Nay, there is no count! Dost thou not know?

A giant did seize him! A giant did break down the door of the count's castle in the darkest hour of night, did thrust the count and his family into a bag, and commanded all

the knights and men-at-arms to put down their swords on pain of their lord's death! Then he clapped all those proud warriors in the deepest, dark dungeons, and hauled the count and his family away into his own hidden prison. The count? Ah, the count shall do naught! Nor can he, when I've learned to use my torture spell to its fullest! He, even he, shall not resist me—nor shall Groghat the giant! Even him shall I humble, even him shall I bring to his knees, screaming with the pain that sears through his brain! None will resist me; all will bow down!"

Suddenly, Gregory stilled, staring at him, unblinking.

"And I'll begin it withthee !" The old sorcerer spun, leveling a forefinger at Cordelia.

"Nay, thou shalt not!" Rage flared in Magnus in a moment of pure hate, every gram of emotion directed at the old sorcerer. Geoffrey's wrath joined his, and Cordelia's terrified anger.

Gregory cried, "I have it!" and instantly his brothers and sister found in their minds the old sorcerer's method for concentrating thought and projecting pain. With it came memories of the pain and terror of little animals, spurring the children to greater anger, and greater, as their fear and wrath focused into the old sorcerer while Cordelia screamed and screamed, the force of her horror tearing through the old man's brain with her brothers' hatred and rage behind it, stabbing through from temple to temple, searing his mind with his own techniques until his howl turned into a raw, hoarse scream. His body stiffened, hands curling into claws; he stood, back arched, for one frozen instant, then collapsed in a heap on the floor, totally silent.

The children stared, appalled, anger evaporating in an instant. Finally, Cordelia spoke. "Is… is he…"

Gregory was staring intently at the old body. "His heart hath stopped."

"We have slain him!" Cordelia cried, in dismay.

"More to the better!" Geoffrey snapped.

But Magnus said, "Nay! We must not have blood on our hands, an we can prevent it! What would Mama and Papa say?"

"That he is a vile, evil man," Geoffrey answered.

"But they would say also that we must spare his life, an we can." Cordelia knelt down by the body, gazing intently at Lontar's face. "What we have done thus far they would approve, for we have done it only in defense of ourselves—and I thank you, my brothers!" She gave each of them a warm look of gratitude that made even Geoffrey forget his anger for a moment; then she turned back to the sorcerer. "Now, though,

'tis another matter. Now we can spare his life—and we will, an we can start his heart to beating once again!"

"How canst thou do that?" Geoffrey questioned; but Magnus joined Gregory and Cordelia beside the waxen body, staring down.

"Be guided by me," Cordelia breathed, "for this is women's work, in this land. Squeeze the left of the heart, when I bid thee—now!"

With telekinesis, they massaged the heart. All three of them thought a squeeze on the left-hand side of the heart, then let go immediately.

"Now, the right side," Cordelia instructed, and they all squeezed together.

"Now the left again… now right… left-right… left-right… left-right…"

They kept at it for several minutes while Geoffrey stood back glowering, his arms folded.

"It doth beat of its own," Gregory reported.

"Aye," Cordelia agreed, "but faintly. Keep pressing, brothers, but softly now."

Gradually, bit by bit, they lightened the pressure till, finally, the old man's heart was beating regularly again. Cordelia breathed a long, shaky sigh and sat back on her heels. "'Tisdone!"

"Mama would be proud of thee," Gregory said, beaming.

"And of thee." Cordelia managed a tremulous smile before she sighed again.

"Eh, brothers! I hope that never again shall I come so close to causing another's death!"

"If thou dost," Geoffrey growled, "I trust he will deserve it as deeply as this one did."

Cordelia frowned down at the old sorcerer. "He hath caused great suffering,

'tis true."

Gregory frowned, too. "Mama and Papa hath said that when a person's heart is stopped too long, the brain can suffer hurt."

"Aye, and full damage." Magnus scowled, concentrating. The room was silent a moment while his brothers and sister watched him; then he nodded. "All is as it should be. From what I can tell, there is no damage done."

"There should have been," Geoffrey hissed.

Magnus glanced up at him, irritated, but said nothing—he couldn't really disagree.

"Yet I think he will not be so quick to offer injury again," Cordelia said thoughtfully.

"Aye… yet let us be certain." Magnus glared down at Lontar's unconscious face. The old man twitched in his sleep, and Magnus said, "Lay words, Gregory."

The little boy's face screwed up for a moment, then relaxed.

So did Magnus. He wiped his brow with a shaky smile. "An aught will restrain him, that will."

His brother and sister nodded. They had heard the thought Magnus and Gregory had implanted in the old man's mind. "Prom this time forth," Cordelia said,

"if he doth so much as think of causing pain to another creature…"

"Every time," Gregory agreed, "each and every."

And they turned and went out the door, closing it behind them, leaving the unconscious sorcerer to waken in his own good time—with an association arc buried in his mind. If ever again he thought, even thought, of causing pain to somebody else, he would feel a twinge of the agony the children had given him stabbing through his own brain, and a small child's voice echoing in his ears:

"Thou must not be so nasty!"

Chapter 12

They came out of the hut to find rain still falling lightly about them.

"I will gladly choose a wetting, over housen with that monster!" Geoffrey declared.

Cordelia shivered and hugged herself, but said bravely, "I, too."

"Kelly knew it from the first." Magnus looked glum. "We should have hearkened to him; he would not come near."

"Nor would my unicorn," Cordelia said softly. "Alas, poor beauty! Doth she suffer from this wetting?"

"She doth know the ways of the wood." Magnus looked about him, frowning. "Kelly! Wherefore art thou? Hast thou abandoned us quite?"

"Nay, he hath not," said a deep voice by his knee, "nor have I."

"Robin!" Cordelia exclaimed, overjoyed, and Geoffrey said, "I thought thou hadst gone to spy out dangers ahead of us."

"Aye, but I did not know thou wouldst turn from the home-ward path. Yet thou hadst need to; I will own, thou hast done well."

"Well! We were near to being slain in agony!" Cordelia cried.

"Thou wouldst not have been," Puck said, with full certainty, and Kelly stepped up beside him, nodding. "If there had been any true danger, children, yer great black horse would have stove in that sorcerer's door, and elf-shot would have struck him senseless."

"I think he was so already," Geoffrey growled.

"Mayhap," Puck agreed, "yet he did not have so much power as the four of thee."

But Magnus was frowning at Kelly. "How didst thou know what did hap within?"

"Through a brownie, who hid by the hearth. Long have the Wee Folk forsaken that place; yet when they saw thee go in, one crept through a mousehole to watch."

"Fie upon it!" Geoffrey plopped down cross-legged, arms folded tight, head hunkered down. "Will we never truly win a fight by ourselves?"

"Why, so thou didst," Puck answered. "'Twas thou four who didst best that sorcerer, children."

"As thou didst know we would," Magnus accused.

Puck shook his head. "If thou hadst not been able to join all thy four powers together, then might he have hurted thee."

"Then," Geoffrey retorted, "elves would have saved us."

"That they would have," Puck agreed. "I have sworn to thy parents that I would protect thee. Never wilt thou lack for elfin guards. Yet they did naught, in this instance—the victory was thine, and thine alone."

"The day shall come," Geoffrey vowed, "when I shall win broils without even thy warding, Puck."

"So it shall, when thou art grown," the elf allowed. "Yet for now…" He looked from one little face to another. "We must join forces. What thou didst, thou didst well. Now let us return to thy chosen goal."

Geoffrey looked up, frowning. "To free the count?"

Puck nodded. "Yet I bethink me, we must have greater force than a band of elves and four small children, even ones so powerful as thyselves. Kelly!"

"What would ye?" the elf muttered.

"Hie thee to King Tuan, and ask of him some few knights and a hundred foot.

'Tis a castle we must breach, not some mere peasant's hut."

Kelly nodded. "A catapult with it?"

"Aye! See to it thou art there and back within the half of an hour!"

"Were the cause not so vital," the leprecohen growled, "I would never heed so much as one of yer commands!"

"Thou wouldst, or thou wouldst truly hop to it!"

"Yet the causeis vital," Kelly said hastily, "and I am gone." And he was, with the sound of arrow feathers whipping past an archer's ear.

"Come, children!" Puck turned away toward the roadway. 'To Castle Glynn!"

"The half-hour is up," Gregory reported.

Puck spared him a glance of annoyance. "Must all thy folk carry clocks in their heads?"

"Only Gregory." Magnus gave his little brother's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Yet where is Kelly, Puck?"

"Here."

The unicorn and robot-horse stopped; Magnus and Gregory dropped down to the road. The leprecohen stepped out of the brush, slapping dust out of his breeches. "Sure and it's a hornet's nest ye did send me into!"

"Nest of hornets?" Puck frowned, arms akimbo. "Explain thyself, elf!"

"There's little enough to explain. The king can spare us no knights, nor no footmen neither."

"What!"

"Surely he would not deny us!"

"How could the King forget his High Warlock's children?"

Kelly shrugged. "What grown folk will credit the words of children, when great affairs of state do loom?"

"Yet how Is't this king would not hearken to the Puck?" the bigger elf demanded. "Say, Kelly!"

"Oh, he's hearkening to ye, well enough—or to Brom O'Berin, his Privy Councillor, which comes to the same thing, when Brom's doin' yer askin' for ye. But he's facing the same task a hundredfold, in the South—and the East and the West too, for that matter. And the North, now that I mention it."

Puck scowled. "Thou dost speak in riddles. Explain."

"Why, 'tis no more nor less than this—that every petty lord has of a sudden risen 'gainst his neighbor. Their dukes do naught to prevent them, for they're far too occupied with fighting one another, themselves."

, The children stared, horrified. "And the King must beat them back into their castles, one by one?" Geoffrey whis-pered.

Kelly nodded. "Do ye wonder he can spare ye no horse nor foot?"

"Nay, not a bit."

"But how comes this?" Magnus asked. "I can comprehend how any one count might rise in war 'gainst his neighbor— but that all might do so, together…!"

" 'Tis conspiracy," Geoffrey stated.

They were all quiet, turning to him. Then Magnus nodded.

"Aye. 'Twas planned, was it not?" He turned back to Puck. "Wheredid Mama and Papa go?"

"Thou must needs now know," the elf said sheepishly. "We did follow their tracks to a pretty pond in the woodland. There we found marks of a scuffle, and their tracks did cease."

"Even as they did when we were stolen away to Tir Chlis," Magnus whispered.

Gregory looked up, interested.

"Even so," Puck agreed.

" 'Twas no mere mishap, nor the work of a moment's passion." Geoffrey spoke angrily, to hide the creeping fear in his belly.

"Nay." Cordelia shivered, and the fear was plainly written on her face. "It must have been well plotted. Yet how could they know where Mama and Papa would go?"

"They must needs have lured them in some fashion," Geoffrey returned, "and set up their engines of enchantment along the path to that pond."

"Set them up days in advance, and waited and waited," Gregory agreed.

"Such weighty spells do require much apparatus that I wot not of."

The children were quiet. It wasn't all that rarely that Gregory admitted that he didn't know how something worked— but it was unusual for him not to know.

"And," Geoffrey summarized, "whosoe'er did plot to kidnap Mama and Papa, did plot also to have all the barons rise up at one time."

"Yet how could they do so?" Cordelia asked, puzzled.

Geoffrey shrugged impatiently. "There are a hundred ways, some of which I know."

"This set of events falls into a pattern characteristic of SPITE, your father's anarchistic enemies," Fess interjected.

"Groghat must be hand in glove with them," Geoffrey cried. Then, suddenly, he looked thoughtful. "Aye, there is truth in that, is there not?"

"Sure and there is," Kelly agreed. "From what we saw of him, I'd be well surprised, if he had wit enough to plan such as this."

"More a dupe than a partner." Puck nodded.

"Yet what of their enemies?" Magnus asked, frowning. "Papa hath said SPITE is opposed by VETO, which is composed of those who seek to rule all, with an iron fist."

"Yes—the totalitarians," Fess agreed.

They were all quiet, thinking. Then Gregory said, "Mayhap the Shire-Reeve?"

Geoffrey's head snapped up. "Aye, thou hast the right of it!"

"And thou children art like to be caught in the warring," Puck said. "I like it not."

"Yet we are like to be caught in such warring in any case." Cordelia spread her hands. "Would not we be marked, Puck?"

The elf was silent for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I had not thought to set spies to watch thy house."

"Thought!" Kelly scoffed. "Wherefore would ye need to think? If there be great lumbering fools sitting out in the forest watching the High Warlock's house, how could elves fail to notice them?"

"There's truth in that," Puck agreed, and turned to the children. "Yet these enemies of thy father's have spells we wot not of, with which they can watch."

The children were quiet. Then Cordelia said, in a very small voice, "Dost thou say we ought not to go home?"

"I misdoubt me of it," Puck said grimly, "yet I'll set elves to watching for watchers."

"Then where can we hide?" Gregory asked.

"In any place," Puck answered, "yet never for more than one night."

"Then Count Glynn's castle is as good as any other," Geoffrey insisted. "We have but to defeat one giant, to hide there."

"How shalt thou?" a huge voice roared, and a net of thick ropes dropped down over them.

Kelly howled, darted through the mesh, and ran. Puck disappeared. The unicorn tossed her head, knocking the net aside, and bolted, with Gregory and Cordelia on her back— but Groghat swung his stick like a baseball bat, knocking the two children off. They slammed to the ground. Pain stabbed through their sides, from head to hip, and the world seemed to swim about them. They heard Groghat's hoarse bellow and Fess's screaming whinny of rage, abruptly cut off with a huge crash.

"Thou hast hurted him!" Geoffrey cried, thrashing against the mesh. "Fiend!

Thou hast broke our father's horse!"

"I'll break more, ere I'm done," Groghat bellowed. He scooped up Cordelia and Gregory with one huge hand, tossed

them into the net with their brothers, and yanked on a draw string. The whole net shut up like a bag. Groghat threw it over his shoulder with a roar of laughter and strode off over the fields, chanting a victory song.

Jumbled in together, jouncing with every step, the children held a conference that the giant couldn't hear.

He is large, Geoffrey admitted,yet there is but the one of him .

And he hath but four limbs, Magnus agreed.

And but one brain, Gregory pointed out.Gently, 'Delia !

Big Sister had him bundled against her tummy for cushioning, to protect him from the jouncing.As gently as I can ,babe. Hold tightly to me .

Nay, siblings, Magnus thought.We have slain a vile sorcerer, and restored him to life again …

More's the pity, Geoffrey added.

And from him, Gregory continued,we have learned a spell for causing great pain .

Never shall we use it! Magnus thought instantly. Then he reconsidered.Mayhap —for Groghat…

He is ours, not we his, Geoffrey said, with finality. He looked around, frowning through the mesh.Puck did but now say we would not lack for guards —

yet I see him not, nor Kelly neither.

Thou wouldst not, Magnus reasoned,yet be certain —an we cannot finish what we begin, they will.

Cordelia's thoughts were tinged with blood.An he hathbroke our Fess …

I misdoubt me of that, Magnus thought back at her.Fess hath been in many battles, and hath scarcely lost horsehair. Yet he will need one to turn him on again .

Aye. Geoffrey glowered.Naetheless, I am not therefore minded to spare this foul giant. What say you, brothers and sister? Shall we slay him now, or later ?

They were quiet for a moment.

Nay! Geoffrey protested.Surely thou dost not truly think to let him live !

For a while, at least, Cordelia thought.

Aye, Magnus agreed.We did wish to go to Castle Glynn, did we not?

Wherefore ought we not let him take us there ?

Then, too, Gregory added, Ihave never seen a real giant before .

Yet it wasnotCastle Glynn that Groghat brought them to, but a craggy old ruin deep in the forest.

He stamped into the great hall, halted before a fireplace where a huge fire roared, loosed the drawstring, and upended the bag. The children squawked as they hit the floor, and Groghat crowed, "Now, then! I've new toys to play with!"

The children picked themselves up, and there was murder in Geoffrey's eye.

Magnus laid a restraining hand on his arm and said, "Hast thou never had playmates, then?"

For a moment, there was a lost, frozen look in Groghat's eyes. Then it thawed into a grin, and Magnus noticed that the giant's eyeteeth were longer than any of his other teeth. "Thou art the toys, not the players," Groghat growled.

"Indeed." Geoffrey cocked his head to the side with the dangerous glint still in his eye. "What game wilt thou play? Ninepins?"

"Jackstraws, more likely," Groghat grunted. "What, child! Dost not realize thou art in danger of thy life?"

Geoffrey simply stared at him.

Magnus said quickly, "There are many things we do not realize. We are, after all, but innocents in a rough world. Wilt thou not explain to us?"

For a moment, Groghat seemed baffled. Then he looked suspicious. "What manner of things?"

"Why, many things." Magnus was all innocence.

Groghat sat on a bench slowly, leaning back on a table with one elbow, eyeing them warily.

"Poor giant." Cordelia fairly oozed sympathy. "Thou hast had little of gaming in thy life, hast thou not?"

"What need have I of games?" Groghat rumbled.

"But who hath not?" Magnus spread his hands. "I'll wager thou hast never even played at riddles!"

"Riddles?" Groghat frowned. "What game is this?"

"Why, 'tis simply done." Cordelia beamed. "One of us will tell a riddle, and if thou canst not puzzle it out, thou must needs answer any question we ask."

"Thus will we gain knowledge," Magnus said brightly, "and thou wilt gain amusement."

Groghat sat there gazing at them for a long moment, and Magnus began to think they might have stretched their luck too far. Then the giant rumbled, "It may prove amusing, in truth. Well, then, as thou wilt. What is thy riddle?"

They all heaved a sigh of relief. Then Magnus recited,

"Arthur O'Bower has broken his band; He comes roaring up the land. The King of Scots, with all his power, Cannot turn Arthur O'Bower."

"Aye!" Cordelia cried, glints dancing in her eyes. "Say to us, then—what is this Arthur O'Bower?"

Groghat's brow knotted in consternation, and the children waited in suspenseful silence while the giant gazed into the fire. Finally he turned to Magnus with a look of impatience. " 'Tis nonsense! No one man could stand against all the might of a King, especially an he hath broken with his band of men!"

"Nay, certes 'tis nonsense," Magnus agreed. '"'Tis all for fun."

"Aye, it is that," Groghat agreed reluctantly. "Tell me, then—what is Arthur O'Bower?"

"Why, the wind!"

"Wind…" Groghat stared at them for a moment.

Then he threw back his head, roaring a laugh. "Nay, of course! Now I see, now I know how this game is played! Nay, then, letme askthee one!"

"Nay!" Magnus held up a palm. "First, our question! One question that thou wilt answer, ere we ask another riddle!"

"Dost thou not remember?" Cordelia urged.

Groghat scowled at them for a moment; then he almost smiled. "Well enough, then, claim thy forfeit. What is thy question?"

"Wast thou born a giant?" Cordelia asked. "Or didst thou but grow larger?"

Groghat scowled, but answered, "I cannot say surely, for I do not remember

—yet the ill folk who reared me did tell me I was a wee, puny thing when the stranger brought me to their cottage."

All four children looked up, suddenly bursting with curiosity.

"Now, my riddle." Groghat leaned forward. 'Tell me what is silver above and pale below."

"Why, 'tis… WHUF!" Geoffrey broke off with Magnus's elbow in his ribs.

"Silver above… pale below?" Magnus frowned. "Let me see, could it be…

Nay, a lizard's green above… Nay, it's… Why, I have it! 'Tis a rock!"

"Nay, thou'rt wrong!" Groghat crowed. "Where hast thou ever seen a silver rock?"

"High in theCragMountains ," Cordelia answered, "but Papa told us 'twas

'fool's gold.' What is the answer?"

"A fish, children! Hast never seen a fish?"

"Only when it's cooked and on my plate," Magnus fibbed. "What is thy question for us?"

"Question? Why…" Groghat thought a minute. "Let me see… question…

Um."

The children waited.

Finally, Groghat said, "What manner of horse was that I overthrew? Never before have I heard a horse crash!"

Anger kindled in Geoffrey's eyes, but Magnus said, "An enchanted horse. I know not the crafting of the enchantment; 'tis Papa's horse."

"Enchanted?" Groghat looked up. "Is thy father a wizard, then?"

"Ah-ah! No question without a riddle!" Cordelia held up a palm. "And 'tis our turn.

"A little wee man in a red, red coat, A staff in his hand, and a stone in his throat. If you'll tell me this riddle, I'll give thee a groat!"

Groghat's brow knitted again. "What is a 'groat'?"

"Papa said 'twas a very small coin. What is the little wee man?"

"Little wee man… Let me see…" Groghat gazed off into space. "It could not be an elf, no, for I've never seen one with a stone in his throat. I have never seen one at all, come to that. Are they real, I wonder?"

"They are."

"Magnus!" Cordelia chided him. "He must tell his riddle ere thou dost answer!"

"Oh! Aye, I erred!"

But Groghat grinned. "I care not. But I cannot tell what thy wee, wee man is."

"'Tis a cherry!" Cordelia cried. "The staff in his hand is the stem, and the stone in his throat is the pit. Now tell me—if thou wast so small a babe, how didst thou come to be so great?"

Groghat smiled, and Cordelia was glad she'd chosen the more complimentary adjective. "The stranger who brought me to the old couple, brought them also a potion to put in my stew at every meal." He frowned. "He brought, too, a gold coin; therefore did they care for me. Yet they cared for the gold more."

And he doth revenge himself upon them, by being mean to all folk he doth meet, Gregory thought.

Thou hast the right of it, Magnus agreed,but what was in the potion ? Aloud, he said, "'Tis thy riddle now."

Groghat stared off into space, thinking.

Papa hath told us of a lump of flesh, in the base of the skull, that doth direct how much we grow, Gregory answered.Whate'er the potion was, it must have acted upon that bit of flesh .

Magnus nodded.Yet who was the stranger ?

Papa's enemy, Geoffrey thought instantly.It matters not from which side .

"What is it," Groghat asked, "that is brown in the spring, green in the summer, and scarlet in the autumn?"

Gregory started to answer, but Cordelia clapped a hand over his mouth. "Let me think… green… scarlet…" She sighed and shook her head. "I cannot say."

"Nay, thou canst not!" Groghat guffawed, slapping the table top. " 'Tis a tree, foolish child!"

'Why, so 'tis," she cried, fairly beaming. "What is thy question?"

Groghat remembered. "Is thy father a wizard?"

"Nay, he's a warlock. And my riddle is: How can there be a chicken that hath no bone?"

"A chicken that hath no bone!" Groghat stared. "Nay, tell me—for I'd be greatly pleased to dine on fowl that did not crunch!"

"Then thou hast but to fry an egg!" Cordelia said triumphantly.

Groghat stared. Then he threw- back his head and roared with laughter, slapping his leg.

Doth he eat chickens whole? Geoffrey wondered.

Aye, and without plucking the feathers, I doubt not, Magnus answered.

"Now let me see…" Cordelia pressed a finger against pursed lips. "What question shall I ask?"

Wherefore doth he roam the countryside? Magnus prompted.

"Wherefore dost thou roam the countryside?" Cordelia repeated. "Thou hast a pleasant enough lair here, if thou didst put it in repair."

"Why, for that I hate all craven knaves who take orders!" Groghat exploded.

"Ever did the old man who reared me give orders: 'Do this! Fetch that!' And I grew wearied, and did resolve that, when I grew large, never more would I do another's bidding! Therefore do I spit on all craven knaves who obey, and make itmy commands they answer to!" He leaned back against the table, gazing at the children and brooding. "Thee, now—thou showest no sign of fear, nor of doing another's bidding…"

Could he begin to like us?

Would we want him to?

Papa's enemies do use this poor puppet to help to bring chaos to the land, Geoffrey thought,and he knoweth it not —he, who is so proud of not doing another's bidding !

'Tis true, Magnus agreed,and I doubt me not 'twas Papa's enemies in SPITE, who do hate all government, that did bring him to the old couple and paid them. Yet wherefore do not Papa's other enemies in VETO, who wish to rule all Gra-marye with an iron glove, not attempt to stop him ?

Why, for that it will be all the easier for them to step in and conquer all when there's no government left, and no large army with it, but only small armed bands of bandits, Geoffrey answered.

Imislike the way he doth look at us . Cordelia's thoughts were tinged with apprehension. .

" 'Tis time to discover whether thou wilt obey me or no," Groghat rumbled.

Quickly, Gregory thought, Ihave been tracking the paths his thoughts flow through when they tell his arms or legs to more, or his muscles to tighten or loosen to hold his balance. They all do meet at the top of his belly in one great knot .

'Twould hurt him greatly, an thou didst twist it with thy thoughts. Cordelia shied from the idea.

Greatly daring, Magnus demanded, " 'Tis mayhap more to the point, to know whether or not another doth commandthee ."

Anger flared in Groghat's eyes. He surged to his feet, bellowing, "Dost thou slander me, bug? Who could command such as I?"

"The man who did bring the potion that fed thee," Magnus answered, with a stroke of insight. "Thou dost have pain if thou dost not drink it, dost thou not?"

For a long moment, Groghat just stared at him, his eyes burning.

Suddenly, his head snapped up, looking toward the window. His lips curved into a wicked grin, and he chuckled. "What is this I hear?"

The children strained their ears, but heard nothing. "I cannot guess," Magnus admitted. "What is it?"

"A maiden," Groghat said, with a throaty laugh, "and naught else—a lone maiden, wandering in the woodland. Nay, she must not go without escort!" He whirled away to the door.

As he opened it, he whirled back, stabbing a huge finger at them. "Do not think to wander—for this door shall be barred and, if thou dost seek to climb from the window, thou'lt fall to they death!" Then he was gone, and the door boomed behind him.

The children stared at each other in the sudden silence.

"Thou'lt not heed him, I trust," came a voice from the hearth.

The children spun about, startled. "Puck!" Cordelia squealed in delight.

"Wherefore art thou amazed? Did I not assure thee thou wouldst be guarded?"

"Truly," Magnus admitted. "Canst thou find a broom for Cordelia, Puck?

Then we can fly out the window."

" 'Tis in the corner, yon. Thou hast but to clean ten years' worth of cobwebs from it."

"Ugh!" Cordelia flinched at the sight.

"Art thou so squeamish, then?" Magnus sighed. He went over to pick up the broom and clean it.

"Puck," Geoffrey asked, "what will the giant do with the maiden, when he doth catch her?"

"Eat her, belike," Cordelia said wisely.

"Mayhap summat of the sort," Puck said nervously. "Come, children! We must rescue!"

"Why, certes, we will," Geoffrey said, surprised, "but wherefore dostthou say we must, Robin?"

"For that this maiden ever did cry, ' 'Ware, Wee Folk!' ere she did pour out filthy wash-water, and did ever leave a bowl

of milk by her hearth for the brownies. Shall the Wee Folk desert her now, in her hour of need? Nay!" He raised his voice.

"Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and

groves,

And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew!

Thine aid she doth

require,

Who hath ever paid the tributes which thou dost desire!"

He was silent a moment, his head cocked to one side; then he gave a satisfied nod. "'Tis well. Come, children."

He started toward the window. Puzzled, they followed him, Cordelia dragging the broom.

Howling exploded outside.

The children stared at one another. "What noise isthat ?" Magnus cried.

Geoffrey grinned.

"Come see," Puck invited as he hopped up to the window-sill.

The boys levitated, drifting up behind him. Cordelia followed on her broom.

They flew out the window, drifting over the woodland to a meadow, bisected by a cow path. A young girl was fleeing away from them, running flat out for all she was worth.

"The Wee Folk did afright her with the semblance of a bear," Puck explained.

"It truly doth sound like one." Geoffrey peered down, then slowly grinned.

"Whatever thy folk have done, Puck, they have done well!"

Below them, Groghat was stamping and howling as though he were demented.

"What have they done?" Cordelia gasped.

"Only cozened a hiveful of bees into thinking the giant's a field of sweet flowers," Puck said innocently.

"'Tis strong magic indeed." Gregory remembered Groghat's odor.

"Aye, but if they stop, he'll pursue her—or go home to find thou art gone, and run amok through the woods seeking his captives. And there are still the count and his family in the dungeons, on whom he might wreak his vengeance."

"Then we must put him to sleep," Magnus said firmly. "Come, Gregory.

Where is this thought-path thou hast found?"

Gregory visualized Groghat's nervous system for them, and they all struck together, a massive stimulation of the solar plexus. Groghat folded as though the wind had been knocked out of him—which it had.

"He sleeps," Gregory reported.

"Recall thy bees, Puck," Magnus requested.

Puck was silent a moment, then smiled as a buzzing cloud lifted from Groghat and headed back into the woods.

Magnus sat back with a sigh of relief. " 'Tis done."

"Aye." Geoffrey gazed down at the giant. "Good folk may travel theHigh Way again."

"Not yet," Cordelia corrected. "Those loutish robbers do still hide in the forest."

Geoffrey lifted his head, a slow grin stretching his lips. "Why, then, we'll hale them out!" And he turned away, reaching for his dagger.

"Thou shalt not!" Puck's hand closed around his wrist. "When thou art grown, thou mayest do as thou dost please, and hazard thyself as thou wilt—yet for now, thou wilt leave such measures to those grown-ups whose office it is!"

Geoffrey turned back, frowning. "But he lies imprisoned!"

"Then let us free him!" Cordelia clapped her hands. "Oh, please, Puck!"

"Certes," the elf agreed. "There should be no danger in that. Yet wilt thou leave thy father's horse for the crows?"

"Fess!" Cordelia pressed a hand to her lips. "I had forgot!"

"The bird that could harm Fess must needs be an iron crow," Magnus assured her, grinning. "Naetheless, we assuredly must not leave our stalwart companion. Come, let us seek him."

He banked away toward the forest, and the others sailed after him.

The great black horse lay on its side, eyes clouded.

Cordelia knelt by him. "Pray Heaven he's not truly hurted!"

"I doubt it quite." Magnus dropped down beside the robot and felt under the saddlehorn for the enlarged vertebra that was the hidden circuit-breaker. "Papa hath told me that Fess's 'brain' is enclosed in padding that can withstand shocks fifty times greater than the pull of the earth… There!"

The amber eyes cleared. Slowly, the great head lifted. "Whaaat… wherrrre…

"

"Self-diagnostic," Gregory said quickly.

The robot held still.

"What hast thou said, sprat?" Geoffrey frowned, worried.

"I know not—only that 'tis something Papa doth say, when he's afeard Fess may be hurted. What is its meaning, Magnus?"

"Iddt cuezzz uh brrrogram that eggzamines mmy circuits forr dam-mage," the great black horse put in, "then mmy phyzzical strugdyure. In this instanzze, mmy circuitry is unnn-damaged, and therre izz only a slllight weakening inn mmy left hind leg."

"Oh!" Cordelia's eyes widened. "How may we mend it?"

"It is unnn-nezessary ad this tlmme. Stannd aside, dzhil-dren."

They leaped up and stepped back as Fess lurched, scrambling to his feet.

"Yet will not the weakening prove harmful, an thou art embattled?" Geoffrey protested.

"The probability of such stress-failure is .97," Fess ac-knowledged. "When we return home, I shall see to its replace-ment. Yet for now, I am safe enough." He lifted his head suddenly, looking off toward the north. "Your friend has re-turned, Cordelia."

They all turned, to see the unicorn step out of the wood. Cordelia ran to embrace her with a glad cry. The unicorn nuz-zled the girl's face, then cocked her head in question. "Gladly!" Cordelia cried, and leaped up sidesaddle. The uni-corn trotted toward the boys, but halted ten yards away.

Puck smiled, pleased. "Now, children—shall we fetch that count thou dost seek?"

"And his children," Cordelia added.

The count was in his dungeon, eating bread and water. His wife was in the cell next door, encouraging her children in

their efforts to dig their way out with a spoon. She knew they didn't have a chance, but it kept them busy. Needless to say, she was overjoyed when the young Gallowglasses let her out. So was the count.

"I shall call up my men!" he cried.

"First thou must needs go back to thine own castle," Magnus reminded him.

"Be wary and go by the northern path."

"Wherefore?"

"For that we left the giant sleeping by the southern pasture, and he may be wakening now."

"And we have met a poor old witch in the south who was accursed by a foul sorcerer; we left them sleeping, too," Gregory added.

"And there is a peasant wench who doth work her wiles to persuade all the young men to join with the Shire-Reeve," Cordelia put in.

"All this, in a few days' time!" The count shook his head. His lady tactfully didn't mention that she had told him he should pay a little more attention to the monsters in the under-brush.

"All lie to the south," Magnus explained. "Sin that thou art afoot, we do think thou wouldst be wisest to go toward the north."

The count didn't argue. He and his family faded into the forest, moving fast.

Magnus turned to confer with his brothers, sister, and elves. "The count and his family are freed, and the giant is vanquished; I doubt me not he will prove small trouble, an we can muzzle his master."

Puck frowned. "Thou speakest of true danger now. These Cold-Iron warlocks have thy father's manner of magic; I ken not how to counter it."

"Ye couldn't counter a dance step," Kelly scoffed. "Ye don't seek to undo these Cold-Iron spells—ye bedevil the sorcerers!"

Puck gave him an irked glance. "I've some small experience in that, too. I'd have no fear for my own sake—but 'tis too great a risk for the children."

Geoffrey lifted his head, incensed, but Gregory said, "They may hold our Mama and Papa."

The children stared at one another, then at Puck. "'Tis true," Magnus said slowly. "Where else would Papa's enemies

hold those they've captured, but in their own castle?"

"They do not use castles," Puck reminded. "They may issue their orders from a manor house, or a church—or even a peasant hut, for all that."

"For all that, and all that," Kelly grumbled.

Puck frowned at him. "Of what nation didst thou say thou wert?"

"Any but yers," Kelly retorted.

"I prithee, hold," Magnus cried. "If Mama and Papa are prisoners within the keep of these star-warlocks, we must hale them out."

The room was quiet for a moment; Puck and Kelly exchanged looks of misgiving.

"We will help thee to find them," Puck said at last, "if thou wilt promise me solemnly to stay in the forest nearby, and never go into the fighting."

The children exchanged glowers, and Geoffrey looked fit to burst. Finally, though, Magnus said reluctantly, "We do promise, Puck."

"Most solemnly?"

"Oh, aye, most solemnly," Geoffrey said in disgust.

"Well enough, then." Puck nodded, satisfied, and turned away to the dungeon stair. The children followed.

"Though how," wondered Magnus, "could any prison hold our mother and father?"

"In drugged slumber," Geoffrey answered. "Come, brother—let us search!"

Chapter 13

"Yet wherefore have we gone south again?" Cordelia spoke to Puck, but her eyes were on the brace of partridge that Magnus turned slowly on the spit over the campfire.

"Aye," Gregory said, and swallowed before he went on. "We have journeyed northward thus far, Puck. Dost thou mean to take us home now?"

The elf shook his head. "I have an itch in my bones that tells me thou art right to seek thy parents. Whether thou wilt find them or no, thou art right to seek them."

"Yet rebellions commonly start far fromRunnymede ," Magnus pointed out as he turned the spit. "Wherefore do we turn our steps once again to the Capitol?"

"'Tis not a rebellion we face," Puck answered. "'Tis a host of rebellions, and their leaders do wish to topple the throne at first chance. They must, therefore, stay near the Royal Mere."

Geoffrey nodded. " 'Tis sound."

"I rejoice that I meet thine approval," Puck said, with withering sarcasm.

Geoffrey watched the partridge turn, blithely unwithered. He swallowed, though.

"Yet surely we're amiss to go farther into the forest," Magnus said, frowning.

"Will they not hold their center in the Capitol itself?"

"Nay," Geoffrey answered, "for no other reason than that we'd seek them there. Puck hath the right of it; they'll as likely be in the forest nearRunnymede , as any place else."

"With modem communications, the 'center' can be anyplace—or many places," Fess explained. "Still, if there is a spies' nest, it would most logically be nearRunnymede , as Puck has suggested."

"Fess agrees with thee," Gregory informed the elf.

"I have heard," Puck grunted. " 'Tis not witch-folk alone who hear thoughts."

"Art thou not pleased?"

"I cry his mercy," the elf said dryly.

"Have you any method in mind for locating this hypothetical headquarters?"

Fess asked.

"Set a spy to catch a spy," Puck retorted, "and I've more of them than any mortal band."

Leaves rustled, and two fairies flitted up, close enough to be seen in the firelight.

"Summer and Fall!" Cordelia cried in delight.

The two fairies dropped dainty curtsies. "We have come to repay thy good aid."

"Who did summon thee?" Kelly snorted.

"Why, the Puck," Summer answered. " 'Tis our wood, do ye not see; we know who moves in it better than any."

"Whatdoth move?" Puck asked softly.

Fall turned to him. "'Tis warlocks thou dost seek, is it not?"

"Warlocks, aye—or sorcerers, more likely."

"We know of them," said Summer. "They have a great house quite deep in the forest, at the foot of the mountains."

Puck looked up at Geoffrey. "'Tis but three hours' ride fromRunnymede ."

"And I doubt me they would ride," the boy returned.

"'Tis two days' walk, though, for a mortal," Fall cautioned. "Thou art witch-bairns; can ye travel no faster?"

Magnus started to answer, then glanced up at Fess.

"Do not delay for my sake," the robot assured them. "I shall follow your thoughts, and will arrive not long after yourselves. The unicorn, I doubt not, will find Cordelia no matter where she goes. I ask only that you not risk any great hazards till I am with you."

"We will fly with winged heels," Magnus assured the fairies.

"Or broomsticks," Summer said, with a smirk.

It was a big half-timbered house with white stucco that had mellowed to ivory with age—or what looked like age; for "Who would ha' builded a house so deep in the woods?" Magnus asked.

A hut would have been understandable, maybe even a cottage—but this was a two-story Tudor house with wings enclosing a courtyard.

"Nay, none would have built here," Geoffrey whispered, with full certainty. "

'Tis Papa's enemies have made this place, and that not much longer ago than Magnus was born."

"If 'tis so big, it must be ripe for haunting," Cordelia whispered.

Her brothers looked at her in surprise. Then they began to grin.

The guard's eyes flicked from screen to screen, from one infrared panorama of the clearing outside the headquarters house to another, over to a graph-screen that showed objects as dots of light on crossed lines, then to a screen that showed sounds as waveforms, then back to the picture screens again. He was bored, but knew the routine was necessary—HQ was safe . only because it was guarded.

A long, quavering sound began, so low that the guard doubted he'd heard it at first, rising gradually in pitch and loudness to a bass, moaning vibration that shook the whole building. The guard darted a look about him, then whirled to the score of screens that showed views of the inside of the house. Finally, he stabbed at a button and called, "Captain! I'm hearing something!"

"So am I," a voice answered out of thin air. A moment later, the captain came running up, shouting to make himself heard over the noise. "What is it?"

But as soon as he started talking, the sound stopped.

The two men looked about them, waiting. Finally, the captain said, "What in hell was that?"

"Right," the guard answered. Then he saw the captain's face and said,

"Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood."

"I don't need light moods, I need answers! What did your screens show?"

"Nothing," the guard said with finality. "Absolutely nothing."

The captain scowled at the screens. "How about the oscilloscope?"

"Nothing there either."

The captian whirled back to him. "But there had to be! That was a noise—it had to show as a waveform!"

The guard shook his head. "Sorry, Captain. Just the usual night-noise traces."

"Not the outdoor scope, you idiot! The indoor one!"

"Nothing there, either." The guard glared at him. "And if we could both hear it,one of the mikes should have picked it up."

They were both silent for a moment, the guard watching the captain, the captain gazing about him, frowning. "What," he said, "makes a noise that people can hear, but microphones can't?"

"They are worried," Gregory reported, "and afeard, though they hide it."

"No mortal can fail to fear the unknown," Puck said, grinning. "'Tis bred into thee from thine earliest ancestors, who did first light campfires 'gainst the night."

They crouched in a dry stream-bed near the house; the stream had been diverted indoors to fill out the water supply. Bracken had grown up in it, enough to cushion the children as they lay against the side on their stomachs.

"Is that why we waited for night?" Geoffrey asked.

"It is," Puck answered. "Thy kind fears the dark, though some of ye hide it well."

"What shall we give them next?" Cordelia asked.

Puck turned to her with a smirk. "What wouldstthou fear?"

The captain sat in the watch officer's office, gazing out the window. What could that noise have been? Of course, old houses are always settling—but this house wasn't really old, it just looked that way!

Well, on the other hand, new houses settle, too—he knew what kind of shoddy workmanship they tried to pass off these days. But settling wouldn't make a noise that lasted solong !

Outside, something flitted by; he barely saw it out of the corner of his eye. He frowned, peering more closely. There it was again, just a flicker—but enough to need checking! He pivoted in his chair and pressed a touchpoint on his desk.

"Check the visual scan, northeast quadrant, quickly!"

"Checking," the guard's voice responded.

The captain waited, glaring out the window. There it was once more—still a flicker, but lasting a little longer this time. He could almost make out a form…

"Nothing," the guard stated.

The captain cursed and whirled back to the window.

The shape danced between two tree trunks a hundred-feet from the house, at the edge of the security perimeter. It was pale, glowing, and vaguely human in form. In spite of himself the captain felt the hairs trying to stand up on the back of his neck. He was a materialist—he knew nothing could exist if it couldn't be weighed or measured. If he saw it but the cameras didn't, it couldn't really be there; it had to be an hallucination. And that meant…

Unless somebody else could see it, too. He stabbed at another touchpoint and barked, "Sergeant! Come in here!"

Two minutes later, a third man stumbled in through a side door, hair tousled, blinking sleep out of his eyes. "What… what's moving, Captain?"

"Ghosts," the captain gritted. He pointed out the window. "Tell me what you see."

The sergeant stepped over to the pane, puzzled. Then he stared. "They're not real!"

"Well!" the captain heaved a sigh. "At least you see them, too!"

"What?" the sergeant turned to him. "Did you think you were dreaming, sir?"

"No, just hallucinating. Now, you've seen them—go look on the monitors, will you?"

Frowning, the sergeant turned and went out into the hall. A few minutes later, his voice sounded right next to the captain's ear. "Right you are, sir. There's nothing on the monitors."

"That's what I thought." The captain stared out at the darkness, numb. There were three of them now, flitting from one tree trunk to another. Or else it was just one, moving very quickly… "Check all the sensors."

A few minutes later the sergeant reported, "Nothing on infrared, sir," and the guard's voice said, "No radiation… no new concentrations of mass… no RF

reflection…"

"They're not real." The captain glared out at the glowing, dancing forms in indignation—but under that emotion was a growing dread. The things were there, no doubt about it—it wasn't only him; the sergeant had seen them, too. But how could they be there and not leave any trace on the sensors?

Gregory looked up at Magnus and Geoffrey. "Canst thou sus-tain this illusion, brothers?"

The two bigger boys knelt side by side, sweat starting on their foreheads, deep in concentration. "Long enough," Magnus answered.

"'Tis hard, casting this picture into their minds," Geoffrey muttered. "The groaning was easier."

"Then make them hear it again," Magnus grunted. He waited a moment, then asked, "How doth it work on them?"

"They do begin to fear," Gregory reported. " 'Tis not great, and buried deeply—but it hath begun."

"So much the worse for them," Cordelia declared. She turned to Fall. "Hast thou the spiders?"

"Aye, a thousand for each door. They have begun spinning a giant web before each portal."

'"'Tis well." Cordelia turned back to Magnus. "Are the elves in place?"

Her brother looked the question at Kelly. "Aye," the lepre-cohen grinned,

"and greatly delighted they are."

"Then let them laugh," Cordelia declared.

A hideous cackling rang through the house from every nook and cranny.

"Trace!" the guard shouted. "Thatsound shows a waveform, Captain!"

"At last! Something real!" The captain hit a touchpoint on the wall beside the desk and a siren whooped throughout the house. Agents tumbled from their cots, bleary-eyed and fuzzy-brained, hearing the captain's voice booming near their ears,

"Search every place large enough to hold a loud-speaker!"

They searched. Behind the terminals, behind the stacks of boxes of organic powder, throughout the storerooms they searched—but they found nothing more than spiderwebs, cur-iously without spiders. As the siren faded, they heard what they were looking for—or its evidence; shrill, manic laughter, at exactly the right pitch to set their teeth on edge and make chills crawl up their backbones. Inside the closets they searched, around the hearth and inside the chimney—but they didn't peer into the crannies between the stones. Down in the time-lab, up on the landing pad, under each cot they searched —but they didn't pull out the wainscoting. Inside every desk drawer, behind every toiletry, inside the cabinets they searched—but they didn't look inside the pipes, or behind the mirrors in the bathroom.

It was just as well they didn't. They wouldn't have believed what they found, anyway. Even if they had, it wouldn't have made them feel any better.

In every nook more than two inches wide with a foot of space behind it, an elf crouched. Inside the walls, in back of the baseboards, and behind the food synthesizer hid pixies, shooing away mice—and from every minute crack and each open grille echoed their laughter, growing more and more hilarious with every passing moment.

"It's mass hallucination!" the captain bellowed. "It couldn't be anything else!"

"How about sabotage?" called a civilian official.

"From where?"

"Bid them coax the mice to where they can see these fellows," Magnus instructed Kelly.

The elf protested. "Why not the Wee Folk?"

"We dare not let the Big People find them! 'Tis too dangerous," Cordelia explained.

Geoffrey nodded. "And, too, if they did find something that could explain the noises, they might become able to bear their fear."

"Assuredly, we do not wish that," Kelly grinned, and he turned to instruct an elfin courier.

Inside the house, elves coaxed mice into mouseholes that the men didn't know existed. Quivering, the mice stared out at the huge beings who were hurrying from place to place, peering and seeking, growing more and more frantic with each passing minute.

Cordelia closed her eyes, opening her mind to the kitchen mouse. "Aye, I can see them. That cup, there…"

The cup shot off the counter and flew through the air, narrowly missing a plainclothes agent. The agent's head snapped around watching it; he winced as it smashed itself to smithereens against the wall. He looked about with a sudden stab of foreboding…

… and saw the saucer spinning right toward his nose.

In the watch office, the captain heard a crash. He spun about to find the terminal cover in a dozen pieces and molecular-circuit gems strewn about in a circle.

-

At the guard station, the terminal beeped. The guard turned toward it, wide-eyed, and saw a mass of print scrolling frantically upward on its screen.

The print stopped abruptly.

Slowly, the guard stepped toward it, scanning the letters. "Regulations concerning surprise inspections…" He darted frantic glances at the screens, but they were all blissfully peaceful. He stabbed at a touchpoint and called, "Captain… I think somebody's trying to tell us something…"

But a civilian agent down the hall suddenly ducked as a vision pickup wrenched itself out of the ceiling and went whistling past his ear to smash itself to bits on the wall. The agent screamed, "Poltergeist!"

With sweat dripping off his brow, Magnus asked, "Have the gnomes tunneled under the foundations?"

"Aye," Kelly reported. "A score stand under each comer —and the Puck is with them."

Magnus nodded. "Tell them the contest hath begun."

"It's enemy action!" the captain said to an agent, white-faced and trembling.

"That High Warlock has to have figured out where we are, and he's sending an army of espers against us!"

"The High Warlock is missing," the agent snapped. "Remember?"

The whole room shivered.

The agent looked up, white around his eyes. "What the hell wasthat ?"

At the guard station, the desk suddenly heaved upward as the floor bucked beneath. The guard toppled over, howling, "Earthquake!"

"If it's an enemy action," the agent said to the captain, "it's a damn good one!"

The floor again heaved upward a foot, then dropped back down. The agent and captain tumbled shouting to the floor.

Out in the hallway, a civilian agent grabbed at a door frame for support, but the jamb jumped under his hand.

"Enemy action, supernatural, or just unexplained phenomena—it's lethal!"

The agent jumped to his feet and stabbed a touchpoint on the desk. "Everybody evacuate!"

"They might come out at any number of places," Geoffrey said angrily.

Gregory shook his head. "They wished the house to be proof against burglars— so they filled the windows with slabs of glass so thick they cannot be broken, and cannot be opened."

"Then there are but the two doors," Magnus said, grinning.

"They come!" Cordelia cried.

The door slammed open and the men came running out at full speed—and slammed into a huge net that had been spun by a thousand spiders. It stretched, but it held. The men flailed about, howling, but the web closed behind them, netting a bagful of a dozen agents at each doorway.

Then up to the front doorway strode the High Warlock.

Higher than usual—he was nine feet tall if he was an inch, crowned with flames where he should have had hair, and his eyes were glowing coals.

The chief agent stared up at him in horror. "But you were kidnapped!"

"Didst thou truly think any trap could hold me?" the High Warlock boomed.

The agent plucked up his nerve. "One ofour traps might have—but what can you expect of an anarchist? Of course their trap didn't hold!"

In the gully, Cordelia read the man's mind, and whispered to Magnus, "He doth speak truth—he knoweth not how Mama and Papa were captured."

The High Warlock boomed, "Yet thou didst collaborate with them! Even now, thine agent doth seek to seize power!"

"None of our men are trying a damn thing," the captain yelled, and the agent said, "Go talk to SPITE about it."

"They lie," Cordelia said. "Their thoughts leapt to the Shire-Reeve; he hath been their man for many years, and they have told him exactly what they wished him to do when the chance came."

"As it hath." Geoffrey frowned. "But that chance was not of their making?"

"Nay," Cordelia answered.

Magnus was silent, face screwed up in concentration, staring over the rim of the gully at the house and the nearest bagful of agents, into whose minds he was casting the simulacrum of his father.

"Who doth support thy Shire-Reeve in the other counties?" the High Warlock boomed.

"How the hell did you know about…" the captain burst out; but the agent silenced him with a gesture. "We aren't supporting any locals.''

"Yet a dozen came to his mind," Cordelia reported, "faces, and some names, one for each dukedom and earldom. And the Shire-Reeve is above all of them."

"Thou dost lie poorly," the High Warlock sneered, "yet thou wilt be in no further danger this night. Farewell." He turned, and stalked away into the darkness.

The VETO agents watched him go, stupefied.

After awhile, the captain looked up at the house. "Everything seems quiet."

The agent shook his head. "That doesn't matter. The High Warlock knows about this HQ. We'll have to abandon it and build another one."

"Sir!" the sergeant hollered. "The net's loose!"

"Loose?"

"Let me see!"

"Let me out!"

"Rank!" the agent bawled. "Squirm aside! Out in order of seniority."

He scrambled out of the bag with the captain right behind him. The agent stood, dusting himself off, but the captain looked up at the house, frowning.

"Don't get ideas," the agent growled. "We can't stay here."

"Y'know," the captain said, "that guy was awfully big, even for the High Warlock."

"What are you saying?" the agent asked.

"And his voice was kind of low-pitched for a human being, you know?"

"Yes, sir, now that you mention it." The sergeant stood up beside him.

"And come to think of it," said one of the junior agents, "the High Warlock speaks modern English, not Elizabethan."

A mile away, the children sat down with Puck, Kelly, and Fess to try to make sense out of the new information.

"'Tis not our VETO enemies who did kidnap them," Magnus stated.

Cordelia nodded. "That much is clear. Therefore we must seek elsewhere for them."

"But what will happen an we do not find them before Groghat and the barons have brought down Their Majesties?" Geoffrey asked, frowning. "Or the Shire-Reeve hath taken the throne?"

The children were silent for a moment.

Then Gregory said, "We must prevent that."

"Nay!" Puck cried. "There be some matters that be too dangerous even for witch-children!"

"But we cannot let them ruin our land, Puck," Cordelia pleaded.

"You cannot stop them, either," Fess murmured. "Puck is right in this, children. You can be of great assistance to adults —but you cannot fight such powerful, grown enemies by yourselves. They will defeat you, and you may be slain."

"Heed him," Kelly advised.

They were silent for a moment. Cordelia rose and went to her unicorn, hugging it for comfort.

Then Geoffrey rose too, dusting off his hands. "Well, then! If we cannot find them of ourselves, we must find Mama and Papa, that they may do it!"

"Aye," Magnus looked up, his eyes kindling. "And we may begin by seeking out Papa's enemies from SPITE."

"There is none," said Summer, "not in all this forest, nay, nor any of the farmlands about."

"Truly," Fall agreed, "not in all this earldom of Tudor— neither a great house, nor a warren of caves."

"Sure, and 'tis as they say," Kelly agreed. "In all the King's lands, 'tis the same—in all ofRunnymede , no sign of any sort of a 'headquarters,' as ye call it. I've sent for word from the fairies there, and I know."

"Nor is there one in any county in Gramarye," Puck added. "I, too, have called for word from all fairies, aye, and elves, too, and nixies, and pixies, and pookas and sprites; from bu-chawns and kobolds, from gnomes and from goblins…

"

"We do believe thee," Magnus said hastily, to cut off Puck's listing of spirits.

"Yet surely these 'anarchists' do coordinate actions. Must they, therefore, not have a center?"

"A geographical center is not necessary," Fess reminded them, "any more than it is for the witches and warlocks. Just as any of you can communicate with a leader, no matter where he is, so can the anarchists, with their transceivers and view-screens."

"Yet the folk of VETO could have done so, too!"

"True," Fess admitted, "but a central administrative base is more in keeping with their pattern of thought. SPITE's anar-chists have the goal of destroying central coordination, so they are much more likely to manage without its physical symbol."

"Yet they must have a leader," Geoffrey insisted, "a commander! No action can be taken in concert without one!"

"It is theoretically possible," Fess demurred, "though it has never occurred."

"What manner of men are these," Cordelia said in disgust, "who embrace the very thing they abhor, in order to destroy it?"

Fess tactfully forebore to mention that she was not the first to have had that particular insight.

"An they have a commander," Geoffrey said stoutly, "we have someone to question. How can we find him, Fess?"

"That will be extremely difficult," Fess admitted. "In fact, if they adhere to their usual pattern, they will have several commanders, each of whom has all the data that the others have, and any one of whom is capable of coordinating the entire operation."

"They are nonetheless commanders," Geoffrey said staunchly.

"'Tis their pattern in all things," Fall said. "Fairies from other counties have told us of plowboys and shepherds who go to join the forces of bandits; and of giants and ogres, who have begun to wreak terror, but do not leash outlaws; of sorcerers who do seek to seize power, and counts who do battle one another, but never the bandits. Each county seems to have one of each of these, and a monster, too. If 'tis not a dragon, then 'tis a manticore or a cockatrice."

Geoffrey reddened with anger. "Commander or not, they have been well enough guided to unleash this chaos on our land in a day!"

"'Tis horrible," Cordelia stated, pale and trembling. "Oh! The poor peasant folk, who must suffer the woes these evil ones do inflict!"

Gregory clung to her waist, round-eyed with horror.

"And we can do nothing," Magnus breathed, "for this is beyond what four small children can do."

"Aye," Puck agreed. "That is work for thy mother and father, when they do return."

"But will they return?" Cordelia said in a very small voice.

"Oh, they shall!" Gregory looked up at her with total certainty. "They shall find their way home again. None can keep them from us."

Somehow, no one even thought of doubting him.

Then Magnus's face hardened, and he turned to his brothers and sister. "Yet in our own country, we need not allow so much misery! InRunnymede and in this southern tip of Tudor, we can hold sway! Not of our own doing, 'tis true —but by bringing the Wee Folk, and the other goodly creatures…" he nodded toward Cordelia's unicorn "… to act against these… these…"

"Nasty men!" Gregory cried, his little face screwed up in indignation.

Magnus froze, trying to look severe. Then Cordelia giggled, and Magnus grinned. "Aye, lad, these nasties! Yet wehave brought Puck and Kelly and their folk to league 'gainst these 'nasties,' and we can do it again and again, till they are all rendered harmless!Runnymede at least can be kept safe, and the King shall have a sanctuary of peace into which to retire!"

"Aye!" Gregory shouted. "We shall seek out the nasties, and lock them in gaols!"

"And while we are about it," Geoffrey said grimly, "we can ask certain questions of them."

"Out upon them!" Cordelia cried. "With which shall we begin?"

They all fell silent, staring at each other in consternation.

"Who," Gregory asked, "is the greatest of nasties?"

Chapter 14

"'Tis well asked," Magnus admitted. "Who can be chief among them? Who can be leader of they who seek to eschew leadership?"

They were walking down a forest path in the general direction of the main road, trying to puzzle it out.

"They do not truly lack a leader," Geoffrey asserted, "though they claim to. I heard Papa speak of this, of a time; there's one whose word they heed."

Magnus frowned at him. "I have not heard of this. What name had he?"

"I do not know," Geoffrey confessed, "nor did Papa. Yet he seemed certain that there was such an one."

"Mayhap thou hast heard of this, Robin?" Cordelia asked.

"As much as Geoffrey hath," Puck said, "yet no more. Thy father seeks some philosopher, some writer of ill-formed ideas, whose thoughts these foes of governance do adhere to. He doth give no orders, seest thou, but doth suggest some actions."

"Yet Papa doth notknow ?" Gregory inferred. "He doth but guess?"

"Nay; 'tis something more than that," Puck said. "He's certain that this philosopher exists, but only doththink the others follow his words."

Geoffrey shook his head, frowning. "I misdoubt me of it. No band of men can take any action an they have no commander. Their deeds would lack coherence; each would do what the others have done. There would be only repetition of the same work, in many places."

Magnus nodded slowly. "Now that I bethink me of it, their actions may bespeak just that."

"Hold!" Puck stiffened. "Here comes one hot-foot!"

Summer and Fall popped up, wide-eyed. "An elf hath told us, and we have gone to see! His words are true!"

"What words are those?" Cordelia asked.

" 'Tis a band of peasants," Fall explained. "They do march along the King'sHigh Way , bearing scythes and brandishing sickles—and a boy doth march before them!"

Cordelia was puzzled. "Before them? Doth not his mother keep him close?"

"Nay, nay!" Summer protested. "The lad doth lead!"

The children stared.

Then Geoffrey scowled. "Can this be true? That a whole band of grown folk would allow a mere boy to lead them?"

"Quite true," Fall assured him, "for the lad who leads them claims to be thyself."

The children stared, thunderstruck.

Then Magnus found his voice. "How can this be? Could a peasant lad have such audacity?"

"Nay!" Geoffrey cried, "for who would credit him? What proof could he offer?"

"The best, for one whose claim is false," Summer answered. "He is the spit and image of thyself."

Geoffrey stood rigid, the color draining from his face. Cordelia saw, and took a step backward before she realized what she was doing.

Then the boy erupted. "The louse and recreant! The vile bit of vermin! How durst he? How could this overweening rogue have the gall and bile to present himself asme ? Nay, take me to him straightaway, that I may carve his gizzard for his tombstone!"

But the two fairies stepped backward, appalled by his wrath.

"Wilt thou not, then?" Geoffrey shouted. "Nay, I must…"

"Throttle thy wrath!" Magnus snapped, and Geoffrey whirled to face him, crouching for a leap; but his brother said, more calmly, "What warrior will confront another in hot blood?" and Geoffrey froze. He stared at Magnus for a moment, then answered, quite reasonably, "Why, he who shall lose."

Magnus nodded. '"'Tis even as our father hath said, and we've seen the truth of it in himself. Nay, then, brother, be mindful—a rogue who would claim to bethee must needs be competent at battle. Thou must needs have thy wits about thee when thou dost face him."

"Even so," Gregory breathed.

Geoffrey stood, gazing at him for a minute; then he nodded, and slowly straightened up, relaxing—but every muscle held a tension that still bespoke firmly-bridled anger. "I thank thee brother. I am myself again." He turned to Summer and Fall. "My apologies, sweet sprites, for such unseemly wrath."

"'Tis warranted." But Fall still stared at him, her eyes huge.

"Wilt thou take me to him now?" Geoffrey asked.

The fairies nodded, and turned away wordlessly, running lightly down the path.

Geoffrey's mouth tightened in chagrin, and he launched himself into the air to follow them.

His brothers wafted after him. Cordelia's unicorn kept pace.

"I have ne'er seen him so angered," Cordelia murmured to Magnus.

"I do not wonder at it," he answered. "But we must watch him closely, sister, or he'll rend that whole peasant band apart."

Magnus halted them with a raised hand. "'Ware, my sibs! I mislike this!"

Beside him, Geoffrey nodded. " 'Tis not natural."

A hundred yards away, the village stood, a handful of houses circling a common—but with not one single person in sight.

"Where have the goodfolk gone?" Cordelia wondered.

"To follow my fetch," Geoffrey grated, "or to attend him."

"'Tis the latter." Magnus pointed. "Seest thou not the flash of color, here and there, between the cottages?"

His brothers and sister peered at the village.

"I do," Fess said, "and I have magnified the image. There are people there, many of them—but their backs are toward us, and only one voice speaks."

"Cordelia," Magnus said, with total certainty, "bid thy unicorn bide in the forest till we come. And thou, Fess, must also wait in hiding."

Cordelia's face clouded up, but Fess spoke first. "I am loathe to leave you, as you know, Magnus. Why do you wish me to wait?"

"For that the safest way to come upon them is to slip into the crowd, and worm our ways to the fore. Thus may we discover whether this double of Geoffrey's is any true threat or not, and if he is, may we thus take him unawares.

Therefore I pray thee, hide and wait."

"Well enough, then, I shall," Fess said slowly. "But I will hide nearby, and listen at maximum amplification. If you have need of me, you have but to call."

"Be assured that we shall," Geoffrey said, his face taut.

Cordelia slipped off the unicorn's back and turned to stroke the velvet nose.

"I must bid thee await me, beauteous one." Tears glistened in her eyes. "Oh, but thou wilt not flee from me, wilt thou? Thou wilt attend?"

The unicorn nodded; Magnus could have sworn the beast had understood his sister's words. He knew better, of course —Cordelia was a protective telepath, as they all were; it was her thoughts the unicorn understood, though the sounds may have helped. She tossed her head and turned away, trotting off toward the shelter of the trees.

"Come, then," Magnus said. "Cordelia, take thou the eastern point with Gregory. Geoffrey will take the center, and I the western edge. We shall meet in the front and center."

The others nodded, tight-lipped, and they spread out as they approached the village. Fess accompanied them, but stopped behind one of the cottages, waiting, head high, ears pricked, as the children silently infiltrated the crowd.

The "crowd" consisted of perhaps a hundred people, only a few dozen of whom, to judge by their carrying scythes and pitchforks, had come in off the road with the juvenile rabble-rouser. But he was doing his level best to convert the other threescore to his cause; as the children stepped in between grown-ups at the back of the mob, they heard him telling atrocity stories.

"Thus they have done to a village not ten miles hence!" the boy cried. "Wilt thou suffer them to so servethy wives and bairns?"

The crowd in front of him rumbled angrily. Scythes and pitchforks waved.

"Nay, thou wilt not!" The boy stood on a wagon, where they could all see him—but he failed to notice the four children who slipped in from the space between two cottages. "Thou wilt not suffer bandits to rend thy village—nor wilt thou suffer the lords to amuse themselves by warring in thy fields, and trampling thine hard-grown com!"

The mob rumbled uncertainly; apparently they hadn't heard this line before.

Bandits were one thing, but lords were entirely another.

"Thou wilt?" the boy cried, surprised. "Then I mistook thee quite! I had thought thou wert men!"

An ugly mutter answered him, and one man at the front cried. " 'Tis well enough for thee to say it, lad—thou hast not seen the lordlings fight! Thou hast not seen how their armor doth turn our pike blades, nor how their swords reap peasant soldiers!"