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The Warlock in Spite of Himself wisoh-2

Page 33

by Неизвестный


  He lifted his eyes to the stars again. "I'm not a warlock, not the slightest bit, not so much as the meanest of your peasants. I don't belong here."

  He felt a tearing in him as he said it.

  "I chose this life," Rod growled. "I take orders, yes, but I do it voluntarily."

  "A point," Brom admitted, "but a weak one. By choice or not by choice, thou'rt still enslaved."

  "Yes," Rod admitted. "But some must give up their freedom, so that their children may have it."

  But it didn't even sound convincing to him.

  Brom gusted a sigh and slapped his thighs, standing. He gazed at Rod, his eyes weary and old.

  "If thou must go, thou must go; a geas is a thing no man can deny. Go on to the stars, Rod Gallowglass, but be mindful: if ever thou seekest a haven, 'tis here."

  HeHurned and strode away, down the hillside.

  Gwendylon sat quietly beside him, clasping his hand.

  "Tell me," she said after a little while, "is it only one dream that takes you away from me?"

  "Yes. Oh, yes." Rod's hand tightened on hers. "You sort of blotted out any other dreams."

  She turned, smiling tremulously, tears glittering on her lashes. "Then may not I accompany you to the stars, good my lord?"

  Rod clamped down on her hand, throat tightening. "I wish that you could; but you'd wither and die there, like an uprooted flower. You belong here, where they need you. I belong there. It's as simple as that."

  "No." She shook her head sadly. "You go not for belonging, but for a geas. But, good my lord"—she turned, tears flowing now—"is not my geas as strong as your dream?"

  "Look," he said tightly, "try to understand. A man has to have a dream. That's the difference between animals and man, a dream. And a man who's lost his dream is something less than a man, and worthy of no woman. How could I dare claim you if I wasn't a man?

  "A man has to prove his worth to himself, before he can claim a woman, and the dream is the proof. As long as he's working for it, he's got a right to her, because he's worth something. I could stay here and be very, very happy with you. But in my depths I'd know I didn't deserve you. Because I'd be a drone, a male with no purpose. How could I father children if I knew their mother was more valuable to the world than I am?"

  "Then it wouldst be thou who wouldst wither and die?" she murmured.

  Rod nodded.

  "But the geas, my lord, if not mine alone, is not Big Tom's geas added to it, and the old Duke Loguire's enough to balance the geas of the stars?"

  Rod sat rigid.

  "They bade you watch over their people," she murmured. "And what would become of them, lord, if these fiends from tomorrow come again? As surely they will, if they hate as deep as thou say."

  Rod nodded, very slowly.

  "And what of the Dream then, my lord?" she murmured.

  Rod sat rock-still for a moment.

  "Fess," he said quietly.

  "Yes, Rod?"

  "Fess, send them my resignation."

  "Your what?"

  "My resignation!" Rod snapped. "And hurry it up!"

  "But Rod, your duty… the honor of your house…"

  "Oh, stuff it! The councillors might be back, Fess, even if we smash the time machines. They did it once, they can do it again. Send it!"

  Fess obediently beeped at the stars.

  Then, slowly, Rod's head lolled forward.

  "My lord?" Gwendylon gasped.

  Rod raised a hand weakly. "I'm all right. I've done the right thing, and the one that'll make me happiest. For the first time in my life, I'm working on my own.

  "And that's it. I've cut myself off. They're not backing me anymore—the house, the clan, Big Brother watching over me…"

  "Thou hast a house here, lord," she murmured.

  "I know, I know. And in a little while this'll pass, and I'll be happier than I ever have been. But now…"

  He looked up at her, smiled weakly. "I'll be all right."

  "Rod," Fess murmured.

  He lifted his head. "Yes, Fess?"

  "They have replied, Rod."

  Rod tensed. "Read it."

  "Report accepted. Request send coordinates for veryifying expedition."

  Rod nodded, mouth twisting back with bitterness. "Send 'em. Goon."

  "Request you reconsider resignation. Accept permanent assignment planet Gramarye guard against further infiltration-subversion."

  Rod straightened, staring. "What?"

  "They would like to make your chosen position official, Rod," the robot replied.

  "What is it, my lord?"

  "They want me to stay on," Rod answered mechanically.

  He turned to her, life replacing the stunned look. "They want me to stay on!"

  "Stay on where, my lord?" she asked, catching the first traces of his enthusiasm.

  "Stay on here!" he bellowed, jumping to his feet and flinging his arm wide to include the whole planet. "Here onGramarye! As an agent! Gwen, I'm free! And I'm home!"

  He dropped to his knees, spinning to face her, hands biting into her shoulders.

  "I love you!" he bellowed. "Marry me!"

  "At once and forever, my lord!" she cried, clasping his face in her hands, and the tears poured.

  He grabbed for her, but she held him off with a palm over his lips. "Nay, my lord. Only a warlock may kiss a witch."

  "All right, I'm a warlock, I'm a warlock! Just kiss me, will you?"

  She did.

  He locked his hands in the small of her back, grinning.

  "Hey," he said, "is it true, what they say about farm girls?"

  "Aye, my lord." She lowered her eyes and began unbuttoning his doublet. "You'll never be rid of me now."

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