Warlock and Son (6 page)

The witch moaned.

"Right as always." Rod smiled slowly. "How nice to see you, Puck."

"Is it truly? What hast thou in store for me?"

Rod nodded toward the lump of flesh on the grass. "Know anything about this one?" The hag moaned.

Puck's eyes glinted in the moonlight like chips of ice. "Aye, we know of her. When she hath come forth, she hath used her magic to strike at the Wee Folk who dwell nearby. She hath hurled old nails to fend us off, and hath injured many and slain two."

Rod nodded. "We'll leave her to you, then." He turned away, catching Magnus's and Cordelia's arms and moving toward the forest path. Cordelia stepped aside to catch up her broomstick before she came along-not quite quickly enough to escape hearing the hag scream with terror, a scream that was cut off in the middle. Cordelia shuddered and hurried on under the shelter of the bare branches. "Father..."

"They're merciful, in their way," Rod said firmly. "You can be sure she won't have even a fraction of the pain she's given others."

"Yet without trial . . ." Magnus said.

Rod looked up, startled. "Don't tell me you think she could be innocent!"

"Why, certes not!"

"Well, then." Rod nodded. "Don't worry-the elves have their own form of due process. They won't even need you two as witnesses. And, son-the Wee Folk don't generally spread gossip. At least, not to mortal people."

Magnus nodded, relaxing a little more. "Thou wilt say naught of this to my brothers?"

"Of course not-nor to your mother, either."

"Unless she doth ask," Magnus qualified.

"Well, yes. But don't worry-she can keep a secret, too."

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"As to that--" Cordelia frowned. "Wherefore didst thou summon me, and not Mama?" Rod shook his head. "I don't `summon' your mother, Cordelia. I call for help, maybe, but I don't

`summon.' And this is probably the last time I'll be able to call you that way." Cordelia studied him, pensive. "And 'tis therefore thou didst summon me, not her?"

"Why, no." Rod looked up, surprised. "I called you because you're the best at healing, daughter. Your mother has trained you very well, and even though she may have more experience, you have so much talent that you've surpassed her-in that one area at least. Or so she says. Didn't you know?"

4

Cordelia flew off into the mists of false dawn after once more promising to tell no one of the night's adventures. Rod and Magnus managed to retrace the young man's trail and find his horse and clothing. Now, once more dressed and mounted, Magnus was recovering his self-confidence. They came down out of the trees as the sun was risingand the other son was remembering that he was supposed to be feeling aggrieved. "Thou didst follow me, didst thou not?" Rod started to answer, then caught himself with the denial still on his tongue. He had tried never to lie to his children, though there were times when he'd felt he'd had to. This wasn't one of them, however. "Yes, son, I did."

"Why? Didst thou fear I was not equal to whate'er might rise against me? Dost thou think me yet a child?"

"No," Rod said, relieved that it had been a double question. Answering the one of his choice, he said, "I know quite well that you're a man grown."

"How, then, didst thou hap upon me when I was in such dire need?"

"Because the peasants asked me." Rod gestured at the village. "Ask them, if you don't believe me." But there was no need to. The peasant men were coming out to their fields; they saw Rod and froze. Then they dropped their hoes and ran forward with glad cries.

"'Tis the stranger-knight returned!"

"He doth live! He hath prevailed!"

"Praise Heaven thou art well, sir knight!"

"I do." Rod smiled down at them. "I assure you, I do." The men cast apprehensive looks at Magnus, but turned back to Rod.

"Didst thou escape the witch, then?"

"Didst thou not find her?"

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"I found her," Rod said quietly. "Oh, yes, I found herdidn't we, son?" Magnus clamped his jaw shut, and managed a grim nod. The men looked up, startled, glancing covertly from father to son and back again, realizing that there was a resemblance after all. "And thy son?"

"I couldn't have defeated her without his strength," Rod assured them.

"Then thou hast triumphed!"

"The witch is dead?"

"The Wee Folk have taken her," Rod replied.

"They did not seem overly fond of her," Magnus added. "I doubt me not that if she is not dead, she doth wish she were."

The peasants muttered to one another in fright, making the sign of the Cross-whether at the mention of the Wee Folk, or of the hag, Rod didn't know. Certainly the combination would be enough to make a saint take precautions.

The women came running up then, children in tow, and the men had to turn to give them the news while the wives tried to shush the babes. Magnus took advantage of the interruption to lean over to Rod and mutter, "Neatly done, Dad. Thou didst not lie."

"No, but I sure made one hell of a false impression, eh? Well, that happens. Thanks for your help, son." Magnus started to answer, then remembered his own prevarication, and had the grace to blush. One of the older peasants turned back to Rod. "We can only thank thee from the bottoms of our hearts, sir knight. The witch hath beset us, long and sorely."

"Why, how is this?" Magnus demanded, suddenly alert. "Have you no lord to protect you?"

"From a witch like to her?" The peasant shook his head with a grim frown. "Even he did fear this vile hag, young sir, as did his father before him. He came once each year to show himself, so that we might know he was our lord, and his bailiff came but once a month, with armed men behind him, to take his tax. Yet sin that they would do no more, the hag too required tax of us-tribute, she called it, in cloth, grain, meat, and other goods."

"Money, too," said another man. "When we had it." Magnus frowned. "And if thou didst not pay?"

"Then would she make our cows go dry, keep the rain from our crops . . ."

"Or bring far too much of it," another peasant said. "In truth, she hath brought flood." Or taken the credit for it,Rod reflected sourly. "I can see that would be reason enough to pay."

"Oh, there were better!" cried a wife. "She would make the men no longer wish to lie with their wives, or would make us women barren."

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Several men reddened with embarrassment and looked daggers at her, but she was staring up at Rod in righteous indignation and didn't notice. Rod nodded; he could believe that these events, at least, were really the hag's doing.

"Her worst deeds thou hast seen, I doubt not," the first peasant said grimly, "and she would do it, whether or not we paid our tribute."

The woman nodded. "Our sons."

"Now and again," another peasant said, "she would beguile away some young man to use as a toy. Whene'er one of our youths failed to come home at day's end, 'twas cause for mourning, for we knew we'd not see him again."

Magnus scowled. "She let none go free when she had done with them?"

"There were one or two. Elber, dost thou hear?" Another woman elbowed a middle-aged man who stood among them but seemed not to be paying attention. He jumped at the contact, turned to her, and said, "Eh?" His face was completely vacant.

"Thus would they come home," the woman said with contempt, "those few that were seen again. Not the lad himself, but his hollow husk."

Magnus stared at the man's empty gaze, and shuddered. "Well, she won't bother you again," Rod said firmly. "You might consider cutting down the Cold Iron that's hanging over her doorway, so the Little People can get in and decontaminate the tower. You'll find she doesn't demand tribute again, and I doubt you'll ever find any trace of her." The peasants cheered, and the woman in front called, "Bless thee, valiant knight!"

"I can use it," Rod returned. "Don't forget, though-your baron will probably be paying much closer attention to you now. His taxes will still need to be paid."

They looked at one another, startled; they hadn't thought it through that far. Magnus stared, too, then began to look angry.

Time for a quick exit. "Make the best of it," Rod advised. "Good luck." He turned Fess away toward the forest.

A unanimous
cry
of protest rose from the crowd, and they ran after him. "Wilt thou not stay, that we may honor thee?" the headman cried.

"Thanks, but I have other tasks to see to." Rod smiled and waved. Magnus glanced at him, then at the peasants, back to Rod, then back at the peasants again. He forced a smile and waved, too, then rode after Rod.

As the leaves closed about them, he demanded, "Wherefore didst thou not stay? I am a-hungered, and bone weary. Art thou not, also?"

"I am," Rod agreed, "but we can camp in the forest."

"Wherefore, when we could have soft hay upon which to spread our cloaks, and hot food for the asking?"

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"Because it would come with a price tag," Rod said. "'Tis a price we have already paid!"

"Yes, but I saw the looks on some of their facescalculating looks. I wouldn't put it past them to ask us to get rid of the local lord."

"Well ... mayhap we should!" Magnus said stoutly. "These folk do but exchange one tyrant for another!"

"How do you know their baron is a tyrant?"

Magnus tossed his head in impatience. "What matter? He could be-and if he could, their form of government is wrong! Thou didst teach me-thou, and Fess in the classroom-that folk should be free to choose their own ruler, and the manner of his ruling!"

"Self-determination. Did you teach him that, Fess?"

"Yes, Rod, as per your instructions."

"Which I learned from your curriculum in the first place." Rod managed a sardonic smile. "Kind of ironic, when you think about it-a bunch of aristocrats, all diehard liberals, and all totally convinced the people should rule themselves. Maybe that's because there weren't any `people.' "

"Aye-thou hast said thy home, Maxima, had naught but aristocrats."

"Well, that's what they called themselves. After five hundred years, I suppose they had the right to-but when there's nobody there to rule, the term kind of loses meaning."

"They were, at least, noble."

"I'd have to agree," Rod said judiciously, "or that their ancestors were. Of course, they chose their own form of government-and it was, at least functionally, a democracy."

"The House of Lords, ruling none but lords?" Magnus smiled, without mirth. "Yet an thy folk could choose their own form of government, wherefore ought not these peasants?"

"They do have that right. Enforcing it is another matter. And remember-their right of self-determination is limited by their interaction with their neighbors. If the next village chooses a different form of government, and the two systems clash and disrupt one another, both have to remember the other's rights."

"They would have to agree together." Magnus frowned. "And where we must think of one village, we must think of a dozen."

Rod nodded. "Or a hundred, or a thousand-or the whole Isle of Gramarye."

"Why not say `the whole of the Terran Sphere'?"

"Because they don't have much contact with the other planets yet-and what little they do have, they're not aware of."

"But when the day comes that they do, what then?"

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"By then, if all goes as I'm planning, they should have a functioning democracy, in place and well oiled by at least a hundred years of experience. They'll be ready to become part of the larger democracy that governs the Terran Sphere."

"The Decentralized Democratic Tribunal." Magnus frowned. "Thy life's work-preparing them for their place in it. For my countrymen could wreak havoc untold on the rest of the human worlds, could they not?"

"Oh, yes," Rod said softly. "The only collection of espers in the known galaxy? You bet they could."

"And who art thou to tell us we must not gain dominion where we may?" Rod turned to stare at his son. How had Magnus worked it around so he and his father were on opposite sides? "I'm the one who seems to remember the concept of individual rights. Or do you think Gramarye's right to rule should wipe out the rest of humanity's right to self-determination?"

"Nay." Magnus frowned, wondering in his turn how his father had turned the argument back on him.

"Yet by seeking to foster democracy among us, thou dost impose thy will. The folk of Gramarye should be free to choose what form of government they may."

"True. Do you honestly think those people back there would really choose anything other than an effective democracy?"

Magnus turned thoughtful, running over possibilities. "It may be," he said slowly. "The history books Fess gave me to read told of a case or two of folk wishing to be ruled by another."

"Biblical Israel shifting from judges to monarchy." Rod nodded. "Any of the other cases, though, are just stagedressing for a power grab-like the Roman proletariat offering a crown to Julius Caesar."

"Naetheless, thou wilt not deny 'tis possible!"

Rod shrugged. "Anything is possible. That doesn't mean it's good. I'm just naturally wary of any form of government that doesn't guarantee the basic human rights."

"I could subscribe to that," Magnus said slowly.

"Then you'll find you're supporting a democracy of some kind, son, though it may work differently from the ones you've studied. Asserting the rights of the individual always leads to self-government of one sort or another."

"I can think of other forms."

"Yeah, but will they really be democracies hiding under another name? If they're not, are they really enforcing human rights, or just claiming to? Either way, you also have to ask how they're affecting their neighbors. You may have a local tyranny that's really part of a larger democracy, and it's the bigger government that's really guaranteeing those rights."