Warlock and Son

by Christopher Stasheff

  "No," Rod said slowly, "but you did kind of take me by surprise there."

  "Wherefore?"

  "Because," Rod said carefully, "I would have said that what you're looking at is a twisted version of a good religion, not a good religion twisting a man."

  Magnus slowed to brooding. "Aye. This is not the same Faith that you and my mother taught me."

  "Not at all-in several major particulars. Oh, the forms are the same, but Eleazar made several major changes in doctrine to increase his own power, and the spirit of this religion is diametrically opposed to the Faith of the good Friars of St. Vdicon. The Faith I learned says that Charity is the most important virtue, not obedience."

  "Is't so?" Magnus demanded. "Hath not the Church ever insisted that. none diverge from its dogma? Hast thou forgot the persecutions of heretics, the wars 'twist different sects, the Inquisition?"

  "That was long ago," Rod said, brooding. "I'd like to think the Church of Rome is above such hypocrisy now."

  "Indeed! And how wouldst thou say this current bishop hath twisted that Faith?"

  "By using it," Rod said simply. "Oh, I don't doubt that he believes what he was taught-but I do doubt the sincerity of that first bishop, Eleazar. We'll check the records at the monastery, and I'll bet we'll find absolutely no mention of this place, nor of him. He just left to put on a show, not to see the Abbot. Probably never got more than ten miles from the forest."

  "Aye. His sole purpose was to gain power for himself, was it not?"

  "Yes-and he used the Catholic religion for that purpose. In the process, he made a few significant changes, such as claiming he was only a man, not God. Anyone who's after power has to start with that-so that he can claim almost as much authority as Christ. Then, too, there's this business of requiring unquestioning obedience of every member of the parish, and giving himself the power to declare any behavior that he didn't happen to like, to be sinful, such as doing any thinking for yourself."

  "Oh, aye." Magnus smiled. "The Church hath ever encouraged free thought, hath it not? So long as that thought hath freely agreed with all that the Church did teach."

  "Touche," Rod said. "But at least the Church did encourage thinking of some sort-and the bishops were willing to explain errors and discuss ideas; they didn't automatically say every new thought was a sin."

  "There is some truth to that," Magnus mused. "And the form of this community, my father, doth seem more that of a cult, than of a religion."

  "I wouldn't disagree with that for a second-especially since it started out as an attempt to have religion without priests. Several cults, and even sects, have started out that way, but they always developed clergy of one sort or another. People try to live without priests, but always wind up reinventing them-they need them too much. And the priests are sometimes corrupted, either by power or by other lusts. But just because some people use religion to exploit other people doesn't mean that religion in itself is bad just the person who misuses it. There will always be people who will find a way to twist something good and use it for their own purposes."

  "That may be so, my father, but it does not mean that religion in itself is right, either."

  Rod looked up at him sharply. "You're seeing something I'm not--or that I wasn't saying, at least. What is it?"

  "That 'tis not the priest alone who doth use the Faith," Magnus answered, "nor even his curate and his nuns. Nay, every single person in this village doth use this religion, to prop him up and to ease him of the burden of forming his or her own conscience, and of thinking matters through for himself or herself. They take Revealed Truth, dost thou see, and thereby have no need to seek Truth for themselves, nor to labor to understand the purpose of life, or what God may be-and thereby do not come closer to Him, as they should."

  Rod frowned. "You're not infallible either, Son. Should you be delivering judgements like that on your fellow man?"

  "I do not judge the people, but the structure they have built, that they call a church. I do not judge the people, but the beliefs that I may or may not espouse."

  Rod eyed him askance, then turned away with a sigh. "Well, at least we can agree on one thing-theocracy is a very demeaning form of government."

  "Not so," Magnus countered. "These folk are happy in it; it doth give them what they need-the means to cooperate with one another, to resolve disputes, and to comfort them in their strife." He shook his head. "I cannot say this form of government is evil, my father-not for them. For others, mayhap, and for Gramarye as a whole, it would be injurious-but not for these folk."

  "So you still think this government-by-pulpit has a right to exist?"

  Magnus turned to stare at him, taken aback. "Aye! For they to whom it gives what they need."

  "Okay for those who like it, huh?"

  "More than that-if they wish to live thus, it is their right!"

  "How about those who don't wish to?"

  "'Tis their right to leave!"

  "Well, then." Rod gave him a brittle smile. "Let's set about enforcing a few rights, shall we?" He noticed movement beyond Magnus's shoulder. "Here comes another case."

  Magnus turned about, and saw Hester hurrying up to him, cheeks rosy with exertion, eyes bright, bosom heaving. Magnus stood rigid, and Rod couldn't blame him-she was very pretty, to a callow youth.

  "Praise Heaven!" she gasped, catching Magnus's arm. "I feared thou hadst left the village!"

  Magnus held his face immobile, than let a small smile show. "Would that have distressed thee?"

  "Aye, greatly!" she panted. "I most earnestly wish to know thee further!"

  "I am pleased to hear my company is so pleasant," Magnus said gravely. "Or is't that thou dost wish to have me take thee away from the village?"

  She stared at him, her expression fading, her face growing pale, and Rod just barely managed to keep his jaw from sagging. The boy didn't mind using the direct approach, did he? "How canst thou say such a thing?" she whispered.

  "Because I have seen how unhappy thou art, here in thy village. Yet wherefore dost thou think I could loose thee from this bondage, when the village is so closely guarded?"

  "Why, they would not dare to meddle with a stranger!"

  "I think they would, if they could be sure he would not leave ever, to tell what he hath seen."

  The blood drained out of her face. "Thou dost not speak of murder!"

  "Nay-only a legal execution. I am certain thy priest will discover a way in which my soul can be saved only by killing my body."

  Hester stepped back, one hand going to her bosom as she stared at him, appalled. Then she dropped her gaze. "I-1 could not ask thee to so risk thyself."

  "Nay, thou couldst, and I will-for I think it wrong that folk not be able to leave if they wish. Yet there's another that I think would gladly go-thy schoolfellow Neil."

  She glanced up, startled and astounded, then looked away, blushing furiously.

  "Aye." Magnus's smile was sardonic. "Thou hadst meant to ask me to bring him also, hadst thou not?"

  She turned on him, embarrassment transmuting to anger. "Thou dost think thou dost know me fully, dost thou not?"

  "Not a whit," Magnus assured her. "I know only what thou dost wish of me. Nay, I will bring Neil too, and gladly-for thou dost love him, dost thou not?"

  She seemed to loosen up a bit, growing thoughtful. "Aye," she admitted. After all, for Magnus to want to bring Neil along as a favor to Hester, that was all right.

  Rod could understand-she'd feel much safer if she thought Magnus were doing it because he loved her. She didn't trust charity, having heard it preached too often and seen it practiced too rarely. Of course, that didn't mean Rod couldn't blame her for trying to use his son.

  Magnus nodded. "So I had thought. Meet me as soon after sunset as thou mayest, at the base of the hillock on which doth stand the church, at the side nearest the forest."

  "Why . . . 'tis where lovers do meet," she said, astonished. "I had thought as much; it is as far removed from sight of
the village as any place may be in this clearing. Surely, there, none will suspect us of aught but the worst."

  "But they watch like hawks, the old biddies! Neil and I would never come within a furlong of't without a nun bustling out to shoo us home!"

  "Then come alone, and bid Neil await us elsewhere."

  "Yet an they see us come to meet him, assuredly they shall stop us!"

  "Then we shall rendezvous at a place they are not apt to watch. Do thou seek him out first, and tell him to meet me within the fringe of the forest, out past the threshing floor, at sunset."

  Hester frowned. "Wherefore two meeting places?"

  "Why, if any see all three of us foregather, they shall drive thee and Neil home, as thou hast said. Nay, we'll all three meet within the wood."

  Hester shivered, but plucked up her spirits. "I shall tell Neil." She looked up at Magnus. "I ... thank thee, stranger. I ... cannot thank thee enough."

  "Time enough for thanks, when we are all away clear. Already we tarry too long; any seeing thee in converse with us will grow suspicious. I shall see thee in the gloaming."

  "Aye. I thank thee. Till then." Hester turned away. She went a few steps down the path, glanced back with misgiving, saw Magnus's gaze still upon her, flushed, and hurried away.

  "Not the way she had planned to have it happen, I'm sure," Rod murmured.

  "Oh?" His son turned a bland smile on him. "What did she intend, then?"

  "Why, to have you fall madly in love with her, so that you couldn't bear to be without her. That way, she would have been sure you would have taken her away. Then, at the last moment, she would have asked if her childhood friend Neil could come along, and you would have been jealous as hell, but you would have done anything she'd asked."

  Magnus smiled, amused. "'Tis like to a scene from a play upon a stage, is't not?"

  "You think that wasn't what she had in mind?"

  "It most definitely was."

  Rod smiled. "Glad we can still agree occasionally. But just to err on the side of caution, how about I be the one to meet her?"

  "Nay." Magnus frowned. "Dost thou think me unable to ward mine own heart?"

  "Let's just say it's going to be less suspect for us to meet them separately than for you to be seen chatting with each one, just before they take off for the tall timber."

  "A good thought, but I think they'll be more suspicious of thee than of me-for with myself, they will suspect only dalliance, where with thee, they'll suspect escape. And 'tis no answer to my question. Thou dost still think me defenseless before a pretty face, dost thou not?"

  "Well, not just the face."

  Magnus laughed, true and unfeigned mirth, to Rod's great relief. "No fear, my father. She never had so strong a hold upon my fancy as all that. In truth, she scarcely had even a pinch. I assure thee, I have been harrowed by experts, 'gainst whom she is the veriest amateur."

  "Well ... I'm glad to hear that," Rod said slowly; but there was an undertone to the boy's words that chilled him. "Just so you're able to recognize your one true love when she comes along."

  "If she doth come," Magnus said, his voice flat. "I misdoubt me an such a woman doth live. Yet if she doth, I hope I'll not have so calloused a heart that it will not respond to her touch. For all others, though, I warrant I'm proof against them."

  Rod hoped he was right-but the words did have an overtone of arrogance to them.

  They hiked back to the tavern and had dinner; then Rod inquired about lodgings for the night, just to establish a cover. The innkeeper looked worried, but told them that he had no beds for strangers, since they came so seldom. -He did, however, say they might ask the bishop for the privilege of sleeping in the village hayloft.

  "Thanks, but I wouldn't want to trouble him," Rod said. "We'll camp out in the fields-we've done that before. Besides, that way we'll be all set to strike out again tomorrow morning."

  "I can offer porridge, to break thy fast," Corin assured them, perhaps a little too quickly.

  "Thanks." Rod gave him a bright smile. "We'll take you up on that. G'night, now."

  He waved a hand as he went out the door. Magnus did the same, and they strolled away from the inn. "Well done, my father. Thou mayest be certain the bishop will know of our `plans' within the half-hour."

  "That long?" Rod feigned surprise. "Well, let's find us a chunk of pasture with a nice view, and put on a good show." They found pasture land not too far from the church on the hill, and not too close to the livestock, and spread out their blanket rolls. There they sat and chatted as they watched the sunset, passing a wineskin back and forth. No one needed to know that they took only sips from it, not gulps. When the rosy glory had faded into dusk, Magnus lay down while Rod went off, none too steadily, toward the nearest thicket-but as soon as the leaves screened him, his step firmed remarkably.

  He stepped into the forest, found a likely looking sapling, then called Fess. He took a special dagger from the saddlebag, pressed the right rivet, and a scarlet beam shot out of the ruby on the pommel. Rod moved it slowly across the base of the sapling. Smoke rose as the laser cut, and the sapling came free. Rod let up on the rivet, put the dagger away, and stripped the twigs off his new quarterstaff.

  Then he slipped around the village to come out near the threshing floor. Neil was waiting, ostentatiously sweeping the boards. Rod strolled past him, whistling. Neil thoughtfully put away the broom, picked up a small pack, and followed.

  Meanwhile, Magnus tossed and turned, then got up and went down to the nearby stream to have a drink. He went on over the rivulet, though, slipped into the brush along its border, and followed it around behind the hill with the church.

  As he stepped out of the leaves, he saw Hester waiting, nervously swinging a parcel. His mouth tightened in chagrin--the pack was as good as an advertisement that she intended to run away. But as he came closer, Magnus revised the notion-she had kept it down to something that could believably be a gift of food to a travelling friend. He mentally gave the girl points for brains. "Good eve, Hester."

  She jumped. "I-I had not seen thee come up, Magnus. Good e'en." She glanced upward and behind her; looking that way, Magnus saw a figure in a black robe watching them-one of the nuns, keeping an eye on the chastity risks. "Let us stroll," he said. "So long as we are on our feet, and away from cover, surely they will not cavil."

  Hester smiled a little. "Nay, surely. Whither shall we wander?"

  "Everywhere and nowhere, so they shall see-but we shall tend south and west." Magnus proffered his arm. "Wilt thou walk?"

  Startled by the courtesy, she took his arm, and they ambled off into the gloaming. "My conscience doth trouble me," Magnus said, "at thought of thy parents' distress when they find thee fled."

  "They have given me their blessing," she said, with the afterechoes of shock. "They each have told me they longed to go, even as I have, when they were mine age."

  "I rejoice to hear it." But Magnus's tone was hard.

  "Have no fear, they'll speak not a word! Neither of them would wish to see me shamed in the pillory-and they are such firm friends of the bishop that I misdoubt me an he'll blame them for my wayward flight."

  Magnus nodded, relaxing. They strolled on into the evening, managing some very strained small talk. Magnus started trying to work in every old joke he knew, and sure enough, to her they were new-so she was laughing quite merrily, when she looked up to see the heap of bare dirt, and the three men standing near it. Her good humor vanished on the spot, and she stared, eyes huge, suddenly trembling.

  "There is naught to fear," Magnus said gently, "and here is thy young man. Go to him, now."

  She glanced up at him once, flashed a grateful smile, and hurried over to Neil, to be swallowed up in his embrace. Roble watched them, his face bleak, then looked away-but Rod covertly eyed Magnus, and saw the tiny tightening of the face that betrayed emotion held in check. His son hadn't been quite so carefree about Hester as he had pretended. If nothing else, it was a blow to his pride.r />
  The lovers broke apart, and Hester turned to Rod. "How shall we. . ."

  "Hist!" Neil raised a hand, looking off into the darkness. "I hear the watch!"

  They were all still, and heard a distant murmur of voices-but Rod and Magnus, listening to minds, heard several men talking about the bishop's orders for extra vigilance this night, because certain corrupted souls might try to flee to the forest, the domain of Satan. "Thou hast keen ears," Magnus said.

  "Take them and get lost!" Rod caught his son by the shoulder and pushed him toward the track that led into the forest, then shooed the others after him. "Go on! Move as fast as you can, and cover your tracks as well as you can! Wade a stream! Swing from the branches!" He knew Magnus would take that hint. "Just get gone!"

  Roble hung back. "But thou. . ."

  "I'll stay here and feed the bishop's men a tall tale! Don't worry about me-I can escape very quickly, if I have to." Roble should only have known just how quickly. "Just go!" He gave the man another push, watched him step into the shadows and disappear, amazingly deft and graceful, then turned and strolled toward the oncoming watch.

  He met them just as the first rays of moonlight touched the meadow grass about him. They looked up, startled, as though he had appeared out of the night-which he must have seemed to do. "Halt!" They were three burly men, with cudgels at their belts and a dog on a leash. He saw Rod and started barking. One of the men cuffed him into silence as another demanded, "Who moves?"

  "I do-and I breathe, too." Rod raised a hand. "I'm the stranger who's travelling through, remember?"

  "Aye, and hath left discontent and troubled hearts in thy wake! What dost thou here?"

  "Couldn't get to sleep, so I went for a walk." Rod waved behind him and toward the village. "We're camped out a mile or so away."

  "We took note of it. Is not a mile a longish stroll?"

  "Not for me. This is a very peaceful setting you have here."

  "And we wish it to remain so," said the biggest fellow. "What of thy son?"

  "Back at the campsite, presumably." Rod frowned. "What's the matter?"

  "Naught yet, and we shall be sure it doth so endure. What of Roble?"