Warlock - The Warlock Enraged Part 22

and Simon's lips curved in a small smile, "... I have some skill in arms. I fended off his blow, and struck ere he could draw his fist again, and I did stretch the poor lad senseless upon the road. And whiles he lay thus, unwillingly in slum- ber, I knelt beside him, frantic in my need, crying out to him, 'Wake! Dost'a not see thou art ensorceled?' For this was my neighbor's son, look you, who had been my chil- dren's playfellow. I could not stand aside to let the sorcerer take him while breath yet pa.s.sed within my lungs. With every grain of my poor, puny witch power, I did seek to reach and wake his slumbering mind, where it lay 'neath Alfar's spell."

The sergeant stared at him, round-eyed. "And did he waken?"

Simon nodded, closing his eyes. "He did. Praise Heaven, for he did. And when his body likewise woke, he sat up bewildered, for he'd no notion how he'd come to be there, lying in the midroad, half a league from home. I took him back to his father; yet I bethought me that what I could do for one, I might so hap to do for others. Thus, when any 148 Christopher Stasheff 149 boy from our village did gain that far-off gaze and wander toward the High Road in a trance, I followed, struck him down, and woke his mind; and when the spell began to wrap itself around my neighbors' minds also, I waited till night fell, and they slumbered, then pa.s.sed from house to house, standing against the wall and seeking to wake them from their enchantments. At length I fell ill from exhaus- tion-but my village held, alone free from the weird.

"And so, at last-two days agone-a warlock came himself, a meager, pimply-faced lad, but with soldiers at his back. Then I could do naught; the boys all marched away; yet, at the least, their parents saw they were com- pelled."

"Yet did the warlock not seek thee out?"

Simon shrugged. "He did attempt it; for with a whole village yet free-minded, he knew there must needs be a witch or warlock who had prevented it. Yet as I've told thee, my power's weak; I can only hear thoughts. And that I was adept at hiding what little force I had. I was careful not to think of witch powers, or spell breaking; I thought only of suspicion, and how much I did resent Alfar's do- minion." He shook his head slowly. "He could not find me; for every mind in all that hamlet thought as I did."

"And this was but two days agone?" the sergeant cried.

"Two days," Simon confirmed.

"Then 'tis months that thou hast held thy neighbors'

minds 'gainst Alfar's spell!"

"It is. Yet in all comely truth, 'tis not till now that Alfar's had soldiers to spare for such an errand."

"Aye." The sergeant's face hardened again. "Yet with the Duke captured, he could spare the men, and the time- for all present threats were laid."

"I doubt it not. Yet I a.s.sure thee, I did tremble with relief when that warlock pa.s.sed from our village.

"Then I bethought me that I'd cheated Death quite long enow. Nay, I reasoned that I'd done my part, and had es- caped thus far more by luck than skill-and, in comely truth, my daughter doth draw near to her confinement. Ac- cordingly, I sought the better part of valor, and turned my steps southward, hoping I might break from his evil-seized, ensorceled realm into the free air of Earl Tudor's county."

He turned to Rod. "And I have come near-so near! 'Tis but a half day's journey now, is't not?"

Rod nodded. "Guards at the border, though. You'd have trouble getting across."

Simon smiled, amused. "Not I."

"Aye." The soldier gave him an appraising glance. "Thou hast something of the look of the wild stag about thee. I doubt not an thou couldst find thy freedom through the forest trails, where no sentry's eye doth watch."

"Just so. Yet I think I must not go."

"Nay!" The sergeant leaned forward. "Go thou must!

Make good thine escape whilst thou may!"

"And if I do? Wilt thou?"

The sergeant lowered his gaze. "I must go back-for I've blood on mine hands, and must atone."

"Stuff and nonsense!" Simon snorted. "These deaths were Alfar's doing, and none of thine. Do thou make thine escape, to join King Tuan's army, and march back to take thy ven- geance 'gainst the sorcerer."

The sergeant shook his head. "Nay. 'Twould take too long. And... if we journey north again, my men and I, and take our places amidst the sorcerer's force-then there will be peasant lives spared, when next they send out to sweep the roads. And when King Tuan comes, there will be swords to fight for him, within the sorcerer's ranks."

"'Tis worthy," Simon mused.

"And stupid!" Rod snorted. "The first warlock who runs a security check on the army, listening for traitorous thoughts, will find you out. All you'll accomplish is an early exe- cution."

The sergeant glared at him, then turned back to Simon.

"Canst thou not teach us the way of hiding our thoughts?"

"I can tell thee the way of it," Simon said slowly, "yet 'tis not quickly learned. It will require constant practice- and never mayest thou relent. Such vigilance is well-nigh impossible, for one who hath but newly learned. Thou may- est quite easily be found out."

"Then give them choice," the sergeant said. "Wake them from their spellbound sleep, and say to them what thou hast said to me. I doubt me not an all of them will choose as I do-to ride back North."

150.

151.

Simon smiled, and shrugged. "Can I do less? I, who am practiced at such dissimulation? Nay. I shall be a half day's ride behind thee."

"That," Rod said, "is just a form of suicide. The only thing that's uncertain about it, is the date."

Simon looked up, in mild surprise. "Yet thou dost journey northward."

"Well, yes," Rod admitted, "But I have duty involved.

It's required of me-never mind why."

"As it is of me-no matter why." Simon gave him the sardonic smile and rose to his feet, standing a little taller, a little straighter. "Craven was I, to ever flee. My work remains. I must turn back, and set my face against the North, that I may go to aid more souls who labor in enchanted sleep, the whiles their bodies wake."

"Nay, thou must not!" The sergeant stepped forward, alarmed. "In truth, thou hast done all any man should ask of thee!"

"'Tis good of thee, to speak so." Simon smiled with gentle warmth. "Yet I'm beholden to them-for look you, these are my people, and have been all my life. They have aided me in all the daily trials that a poor man undergoes, and tended me and mine in illness, and consoled us in bereavement-as I have done for them. Such bonds are not severed only for reason that I'm the only one able to give aid now. Nay, i* truth I played the craven, when that I did flee."

"Thou didst not," the sergeant a.s.serted. "What will it profit them, for thou to turn back? Thy spell-breaking will but draw the warlock to thee again-and when he hath taken thee, thy folk will rest spellbound once more."

Simon fairly beamed, but shook his head. "I may escape his notice, as I've done already. Nay, I'll not again play coward."

The sergeant sighed. "Thou wast not craven to be afeared; for certes, thou hast much to fear. Therefore, an thou wilt wake my men from this foul spell, we all shall company thee."

"And make the danger greater!" Rod stepped forward, frowning. "How much chance do you think you boys would have against a squad of twenty, Auncient?"

The sergeant hesitated, frowning.

Rod pressed the point. "One civilian, going North with five armed men? Alfar's witch-sentries would smell a rat, even if they didn't have noses."

Simon's face lit with a delighted smile. "Yet think, good- man! They could say I was their prisoner!"

Rod gave the sergeant a jaundiced eye. "Do you have any orders about taking prisoners?"

"Nay," the sergeant admitted. "We were commanded to but slay and rob."

"You'd stand out like a haystack in a cornfield." Rod shook his head. "Pleasant fellow, isn't he, this Alfar? Ef- ficient, though. Nasty, but efficient."

"Nay; he's most plainly evil," the sergeant growled.

"Yeah, but you don't fight evil by standing out in front of a full army and declaring war on them. At least, not when you're only a handful."

Simon gave the sergeant a sad nod. " 'Tis even so, Aun- cient. Thou and thy men were best to fare on southward."

The sergeant's jaw tightened; he shook his head. "I will not choose to go-nor, I think, will even one of my men."

"Well, if you're bound and determined," Rod sighed, "let's make your lives as expensive as possible. Even just a handful of men can do an amazing amount of damage."

"Indeed?" The sergeant turned to him eagerly. "How dost thou mean?"

"You could be guerillas," Rod explained. "The word means 'little war,' and that's just what you do-make little wars within a big war. Most of the time, you see, you'd be riding along like good little Alfarites-but whenever there's a chance, you can turn into raiders."

The sergeant clamped his lips, turning away in exasper- ation. "What use are bandits, 'gainst an army?"

"A lot, if you choose the right targets. For example, if you break into the armoury and steal all the crossbow bolts, or even break all the arrows..."

The sergeant lifted his head, eyes lighting. "Aye-that would hamper an army's fighting, would it not?"

"Some," Rod agreed, "though there are still spears, pikes, and swords. At this level of technology, commandoes have a tougher time hurting the main army. Actually, I was think- 752 Christopher Stasheff 153 ing of you getting into the kitchens and pouring a few bucketfuls of salt on the food."

Slowly, the sergeant grinned.

"It'll work even better if you can link up with the other groups who've had their spells broken," Rod added.

The sergeant stared. "There be others?"

"There will be." Simon's eye glittered.

Rod glanced at him, and tried to suppress a smile. He turned back to the sergeant. "Yes, uh, a Southern witch, yesterday-she broke the spell on another squad, like yours, and they opted to go back North, too."

"Allies!" the sergeant cried, then frowned in doubt. "But how shall we know them? We cannot ask every soldier in the sorcerer's army, 'Art thou of the band whose spell is broke?'"

"Scarcely," Rod agreed. "But any bands Simon frees from now on, he can give secret names-ones you can say aloud for everyone to hear, but that only the ones whose spells are broken will recognize. For example, from now on, you'll be, um... Balthazar." He turned to Simon. "And you can name the auncients of the next two groups you free, 'Melchior' and 'Casper.'"

"What use is this?" the sergeant demanded.

"Well, if another soldier comes up to you, and says he has a message from Auncient Melchior, you can exchange information, because you'll know he's a part of the freedom movement. But you shouldn't get together, mind you. The bigger your force, the easier you'll be to find."

"Then what use this sending of messages?"

"So you can all agree to hit the same target at the same time. For example, you might want to make a big enough raid to actually take over a castle, or something. And, of course, when King Tuan's army marches North, you can all meet just behind the sorcerer's army, and hit them from the back while he hits 'em from the front."

"Doth he come, then?" The sergeant fairly pounced on the idea.

"Oh, he'll come," Rod said, with more certainty than he felt. "A message went South, yesterday."

Simon and the sergeant both stared at him.

With a sinking heart. Rod realized he'd made a bad slip.

"I couldn't help overhearing," he added, lamely.

"Certes, thou couldst not," Simon murmured. "Yet I be- think me thou'rt not the humble yeoman farmer that thou dost seem."

"Aye," the sergeant agreed. "Thou'rt a man of arms, by thy knowledge. What rank hast thou? What is thy station?"

"Proxima Centauri Terminal," Rod answered. "And as to my rank, just take my word for it-I've got enough to know what I'm talking about. And as to the name, call me, uh-'Kem.'"

Instantly, he knew it was a bad choice. If people call you Kern, said his id, from its mora.s.s of superst.i.tious fear, you'll lose track of who you are. You'll start thinking you are Kern, and you'll be absorbed into him.

Ridiculous, his ego responded. Kern's will can't reach across universes. The name's just a word, not a threat to your ident.i.ty.

His superego surveyed the two, came to its own conclu- sions, and declared it a draw.

Rod swallowed, firmed his jaw, and stuck to his story.

"Kem," he said again. "That's all you need to know. Just take it and go with it as far as you can, Auncient."

"Indeed I will. Yet why ought I not to know who it is who doth command me?"

"Not command," Rod pointed out. "I'm just giving you advice. It was your idea to go back North, not mine. If you want a command, I'll tell you to go South."

"Nay," the sergeant said quickly. "Yet I thank thee for thy good, um, 'advice.'"

"My pleasure, I'm sure. And, of course, if the worst should happen, and they should capture you..."

"I will not betray thee," the sergeant said firmly. "Let them bring hot irons; let them bring their thumbscrews. I shall breathe no word."

"You won't have to. All they'll have to do is read your mind. You may be able to keep from saying it aloud, but you can't keep from thinking about it."

The sergeant looked doubtful.

Rod nodded. "So the whole idea is to not know anything more than is absolutely necessary. But-just in case we should be able to get something moving, mind you..."

154 "Aye!"

"If someone should come to you, and say that Kem says to attack a given place at a given time, you'll know what to do."

The soldier lifted his head, with a slow grin. "Aye. I shall indeed now. And I swear to thee, I will execute what thou dost command."

"Good man." Rod slapped him on the shoulder. "Now- let's get to waking up your men." He turned to Simon. "If you would, Master Simon? The sooner we can split up and hit the road, the better."

Simon nodded, with a smile, and turned away to the fallen troopers.