Warlock's Last Ride wisoh-13

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Warlock's Last Ride wisoh-13 Page 30

by Christopher Stasheff


  WORD CAME TO the High Warlock at his seat in Runnymede, and Magnus d'Armand came to the western shore to gaze upon the body of his father where it lay broken on the shingle above the tide line. Nearby stood Fess, as faithful as he had ever been, but when Magnus spoke to him, he could not say what had happened, and he seemed changed. The robot was never the same again; there seemed to be something missing in him, as though he were indeed only a machine.

  Then his brothers appeared about him, his sister came spiraling down from the sky and with one touch read the massive heart attack that had taken Rod's life before his fall. Together they knelt by their father, each immersed in his or her own thoughts and prayers. Then together they lifted up his body and bore it away.

  "SO WE ARE bereft of mother and father in the same year."

  "It's not supposed to happen this way. Papa wasn't supposed to die until we were in our fifties, and Mama was supposed to outlive him by ten years."

  "I was prepared to console her and help her out of her grief, but not for this!"

  "We will have to help each other, then," Magnus said gravely.

  No one said anything. The silence was enough for him to feel the tightening, the resentment of his seeming assumption of authority, especially after his long absence. Then the mood relented, and Cordelia allowed, "At least we have each other—and there are more of us."

  "There are," Magnus agreed, "but for this first night, perhaps we each need to be alone with our grief, to take the first step in coming to terms with it." He rose and turned away to the door. "Good night, my sibs."

  "Good night," several voices said.

  Alea stared at Magnus's back, turned a questioning glance to Cordelia, who could only shrug. Exasperated, Alea rushed to catch up with Magnus.

  "What was that all about?" she demanded.

  "I'm not one to stay where I'm not wanted," he answered.

  She could hear the hurt and anger in his voice. "But she's your sister! They're your brothers!"

  "I think it will take a few years for us to re-establish our relationships," Magnus said. "After all, when I left home, I was still the font of wisdom to Gregory, and Geoffrey was still testing himself against me."

  "And Cordelia?" Alea was glad she asked, because the question brought a smile, albeit a small one.

  "Well," Magnus said, "Cordelia and I were always squaring off as to which had the authority—unless someone attacked us, of course. Still, she does seem to resent my coming back." He came to a stop, frowning into the darkness. "Perhaps that's it. Perhaps I'd be welcome as a visitor, if they could be sure I would leave." His face darkened. "And perhaps I should." He began to walk toward their suite again.

  "Perhaps not!" Alea hurried to catch up with him. "Perhaps you should stay and wait until, inch by inch, they've moved over and made room for you again!"

  "Perhaps," Magnus admitted, but didn't sound as though he believed it.

  ALTHEA PUSHED ASIDE her peasant bonnet to ask Raven, "Do you really trust any of them?"

  Raven cast a quick glance at the VETO agents carrying sacks of provisions into the kitchen of Castle Gallowglass and said, "Not for a second. They'll turn on us the moment we've finished executing the Gallowglasses."

  "Then why did Durer call the Mocker for help?"

  Raven shrugged. "Common enemies. We both need to eliminate the Gallowglass family if we're to have any hope of taking over the government—but the second the brats are dead, start shooting the VETO agents."

  Althea started to say that the totalitarians must be planning the same fate for them, but she shivered too badly at the thought.

  Dressed as peasants and carrying sacks of provisions, the SPITE agents trooped into the castle beside the file of VETO agents.

  THE AMUSEMENT AT dinner was muted, but the Gallowglasses and their spouses were managing to smile and enjoy the reassurance of one another's company.

  "The kingdom still stands, at least," Gregory observed.

  "Yes, thanks to your valiant efforts in fighting off the monsters." Alain raised a glass. 'To my friends and guards!"

  "To the Prince who had the good sense to talk before he fought." Geoffrey raised his glass in return.

  "Aye, and the brave knight who spoke on his peasants' behalf." Cordelia raised her cup, too. "To your cousin Geordie!"

  "Yes, well met at last!" Alain said with relief. "Now the family can heal—I hope."

  Magnus watched with a half-smile, but Alea sizzled beside him. Didn't any of them realize how much Magnus had done to fight off all their enemies? Deliberately, she raised her own cup and said loudly, "To kin and friendship!"

  'To friendship!" the others chorused. All their cups rose, then all drank.

  Alea blinked in surprise, amazed that her toast had been accepted.

  "To enemies!" said a voice.

  The Gallowglasses looked up in polite surprise as men and women in peasant garb stepped out of doorways, moved from behind tapestries, appeared in the minstrels' gallery—all levelling crossbows that bore ominous gems beneath the bolts.

  A man who appeared aged and emaciated stepped forward before all the rest with a mocking smile. "Your servants salute you."

  "You, then, are the one called Durer?" Gregory asked.

  "He is—and I am the Mocker." Another lean and wrinkled man stepped forward with a bow. "Your parents' ancient enemies—and your own."

  "Do not think to attack us with your psi powers," Durer said, "for both our organizations have enlisted locals who are very powerful espers."

  "And you think they are stronger than all our powers joined together?" Gregory asked, amused.

  The Mocker frowned. "I assure you, you have very little to smile about."

  "Surely seeing our enemies face-to-face at last is cause for delight," Cordelia said.

  "Then at least you will die happy." Durer raised his weapon and pulled the trigger—then pulled it again and again, his look of triumph transforming to horror.

  "Fire!" the Mocker yelled, and all the agents squeezed triggers and pushed firing buttons. Only two of the crossbows loosed bolts—but those nosedived into the flagstones. A few of the jewels glowed brightly with rays that gathered, but never burst out.

  "We have telepaths of our own, you see," Cordelia said, her face taut with strain, "to aid us in restraining your weapons."

  "And soldiers to disarm you," Alain said.

  Loops of rope dropped down and around each of the agents; the soldiers who held them pulled tight. The agents shouted in alarm and anger, struggling to twist free, to turn their weapons on their captors, but the soldiers kicked their feet out from under them and forced them to their knees.

  Durer glared at Allouette and hissed, 'Traitor!"

  "Traitor!" Allouette was on her feet, face burning with anger as she advanced on him. "You dare call me traitor, you whose agents stole me from my cradle? You who sent me to false foster parents who twisted my sexuality and smashed my self-esteem deliberately and methodically? Whose successors debased me and abused me and shaped me into a weapon to strike at their enemies? You dare call me traitor?"

  "They housed you and fed you!" Raven cried. "They changed your diapers and bandaged your cuts!"

  "And called me whore and told me I had been born corrupt!" Allouette raged. "Nay, you have fashioned your weapon—now feel its sting!" She glared at Raven, eyes narrowing.

  Raven screamed, clutching her head, then fell to the floor writhing in agony. "Cut it off! Cut if off to stop the pain!"

  Allouette's mouth opened in a rictus of anger and effort, and Raven went limp. Then Allouette turned that awful glare on Durer.

  "She betrayed you!" Durer shouted to Gregory. "She is our agent! She won your heart only so that she could be here within your midst to destroy you—as she maimed your eldest brother!"

  "Fool, do you truly believe we do not know that?" Gregory stepped up beside his wife. "By titanic effort, my mother managed to undo the worst of the damage your agents had done to Allouette. Then my l
ove told us all she had done, all the malice she had borne toward us."

  Durer stared at Allouette, then bared his teeth in a snarl. "Betrayed from the moment I talked to you!"

  "Oh, be reassured sir," she said bitterly, "for you have destroyed my life for the second time and disintegrated any chance I might ever have held for happiness!" Her eyes narrowed, and everyone in the hall could feel the power building in her, the mental power with the rage of years behind it.

  Gregory touched her shoulder. "Leave him to the Crown, my sweet. Do not soil your hands with his corrupted blood."

  Allouette's gaze snapped to him, staring in incredulity. "Do not mock me, sir! Well do I know that you cannot remain married to a woman who is as treacherous as I!"

  "Remain married!" Gregory stared back, stricken.

  "Aye! Miracle enough it is that you took a serpent to your bosom once, who knew so many of your enemies that she was the obvious choice when they sought one to betray you! How could you ever trust me again!" She turned to march to the doorway, sheer leashed rage radiating from her so intensely that soldiers and prisoners alike flinched away.

  Alea stepped between Alouette and the doorway, looking down at her in exasperation. "You fool! You absolute total fool! You have the richest love a woman could hope for, you have a man who loves you to distraction, who couldn't even dream of blaming you for the slightest flaw, can't even recognize that there IS a flaw, and you're ready to leave him because you don't think you're worthy of him?"

  "Step away, virago!" Allouette's rage cut loose. "Frozen spinster who is eaten up by envy of the love you cannot find, who seeks revenge on the world because you think yourself unlovable! I have withstood your silent condemnation for months, I have endured your silences and slights, but I will bear them no longer, nor let you bar me one second from the fate I deserve! Stand aside, amateur, or learn what true psi power really is!"

  Alea didn't budge an inch. Tense and white-lipped, she said in a low and venomous tone, "And this is the woman who claims she has abandoned the ways of cruelty!"

  Allouette froze, turning pale—and in that moment, Alea stepped back as Gregory stepped between them, staring into his wife's eyes, then dropping to one knee. Gazing up, he caught her hands between his own and said, "You are everything that is good and right, you are all that is completely loveable, not only for your beauty but also for your warm and generous nature—and above all, for your loyalty. How could you ever have thought that I could believe you a traitor?"

  The blood drained from Allouette's face; she stared down, still frozen, aching to believe but unable to.

  "Trust him, lady."

  Turning, Allouette found Magnus gazing down at her— but the grave look he gave her was full of sympathy, not enmity. "Those of us who think ourselves unfit for love must look now and then at truth."

  Alea stared at him, thunderstruck.

  "You proved your loyalty by telling Gregory at once of the ambush Durer planned," Magnus said, "loyalty that is so titanic it stuns me, now that I realize that, from the moment Durer approached you with his blackmail, you have been sure you would lose your marriage and your love!"

  "How could you doubt me so?" Gregory rose, staring deeply into her eyes. "How could you doubt me when you have only given me cause to love you more?"

  Still Allouette stood frozen, eyes darting from one to the other. Then belief and relief broke through her anger, and she fell sobbing into Gregory's arms.

  He soothed her and caressed her, murmuring, "Nay, sweet love, 'tis done, and the monsters shall be banished from your sight. Never again shall they rise to hurt you. Nay, my jo, my dear, my precious, be sure that I love you with a love that shall never vary, never swerve, for I know you for what you truly are, and 'tis for that I do love you."

  His brothers and sisters looked on, beaming fondly— but Alea whirled and ran from the chamber.

  Twenty-Eight

  MAGNUS STOOD STARING AFTER ALEA, STUNNED, then started after her, walking quickly, even now careful not to come too close too quickly.

  He came out into the courtyard just in time to see her run into the stable. Knowing she was unlikely to leave, he followed slowly and came in carefully, searching about him in the gloom, then following the sound of weeping.

  He found her leaning against the post between two empty stalls, head on her arms and weeping with the deep, racking sobs of true heartbreak. Magnus came up as near as he dared, then asked gently, "Why do you weep, companion of my bosom? Surely you cannot think that anything Allouette said in a moment of despair might be true!"

  "But it is, it all is!" Alea groaned. "Go away, Gar! Let me be miserable in peace!"

  "I cannot leave you sunken in lies."

  "Lies?" Alea whirled to face him, face blotched, eyes red and swollen, tears still running down her cheeks. "She told only truth! I've always known I was awkward and gawky, too ugly for any man to love!"

  "That is not true, not a word of it!" Magnus still dared move no closer, but he reached out. "But your feeling that way means that every word Allouette spoke went straight to that most vulnerable point in your heart."

  "You can't deny that I'm awkward and gawky!"

  "You are the soul of grace and deftness," Magnus countered. "Your movements in battle are a symphony; every step on the road or in the forest is sheer poetry. Oh yes, I deny most heartily that you are in any way awkward—but I can believe that you were in your teens."

  Alea's eyes widened. Suddenly conscious of them, she made a quick swipe at her tears. "I'm far too tall to be graceful!"

  "You're the perfect height," Magnus contradicted, then amended himself. "Well, perhaps an inch too short."

  "Don't mock me, Gar!"

  "I wouldn't dream of it." Magnus stared steadily into her eyes. "You want truth, and that is all I'm giving you— or honesty, at least; truth as I see it."

  "You can't really believe I'm beautiful!"

  "I've believed it since the first day I saw you," he said, "covered with briar scratches and smudged with dirt, your hair wild with two days' flight through a forest. I believed it then, but I knew it two days later, when you were clean and neat, and I thought I had never seen so beautiful a woman in my life!"

  "All right, maybe I'm plain, not ugly—but you can't expect me to believe you find me beautiful!" Hope had crept into her voice, though.

  "You must believe it," he said, "for it is true—believe that in my eyes, at least, you are beautiful." At last he stepped closer, lifting a hand to touch her cheek but not quite daring. "Come, you know you've caught me looking at you with admiration time and again—the times you caught me by surprise when you turned to look at me, and I hadn't been quite quick enough to look away."

  "With admiration, yes." Her heart was pounding with hope that she tried to thrust down. "But desire? Never!"

  "You've never caught me at it, no," Magnus said. "I hid it well, knowing you would see it as the worst sort of betrayal."

  Alea stared at him, startled, then said, "For the first few years, yes, that was true—but not any more!"

  "I could not take that chance, though, do you see," Magnus said, "could not take the chance of frightening you and hurting you and undoing all the progress you had made toward healing. So as to being repressed and frustrated, I most certainly am—but I will continue to be so, as long as that is what you need from me."

  Alea only stared at him, wondering how so intelligent and sensitive a man could be so stupid, then said, "That's not what I need from you any longer. I need the final stage of healing now."

  Magnus's eyes glowed; he stepped closer, but he only asked, "What could have wounded you so badly that it has taken so long to heal?"

  "Only a careless, selfish lover." Alea tried to make light of it, but a sob caught in her throat. "Only a man who swore he loved me, told me his desire for me caused him physical pain, and begged me to assuage it. Flattered beyond words, I let him bed me—but when he had taken his pleasure, he called me a whore and went away, the
n never spoke to me again." She couldn't hold back the tears as she said it.

  Face all tender concern, Magnus held out his arms, and Alea stood rigid, then swayed into his embrace and let the sobs go.

  Magnus held her firmly, and when the weeping had slackened, he said, "Even after five years of my safekeeping and devotion, it still hurts you so badly."

  "Nowhere nearly as badly as it did." Alea looked up at him, wiping tears from her eyes. "But you—it's been ten years now, and the wounds Finister gave you still fester."

  "Well, yes." Magnus's embrace loosened; he stepped back a little, but still gazed into her eyes. "There was reason, though. She induced my love not just by allure, but by projective telepathy—total, abject devotion—then shamed me and humiliated me in every way she could. She even convinced me I was a snake doomed to crawl forever about the base of a tree, and I understand that I did just that, though everyone else saw a naked man curled about that trunk."

  Alea gasped in horror, hearing it again, but from bis point of view. "How …?"

  "My father found me and called Cordelia, who was able to banish the worst of the spell—she's a strong projective herself. But the witch came back again to compel my love and shame me one final time, leaving me mired in a morass of depression. My father found me again and called my mother this time, who knew she must not cure me herself and sent me to the Green Witch, who healed the worst of my pain."

  "Healed the worst, but it has taken you ten years to heal the rest?" Alea gasped.

  "Yes—for the only true healing I could have was to fall in love with a woman who was absolutely trustworthy…" Magnus touched her face, ever so lightly. "… a woman who might disagree with me to my face but who would never speak against me behind my back, and would certainly never, ever humiliate me or shame me."

 

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