The ex-witch met her eyes, and fear was written on her face.
Hate curdled the peasant girl's face, and her forefinger jabbed out. "'Tis she, the witch who stole us all!"
The peasants stared; then a clamor of shouting broke out as they charged the companions. "'Tis she, the witch who corrupted my son!" "The sorceress who beguiled our children!" "Slay her!" "Slay her!" "Slay!"
They surged forward, a shouting bedlam, quilled with clubs and pitchforks, men and women shrieking for blood.
"Hold!" Alisande barked, like the best of drill sergeants; and the mob ground to a halt, poleaxed by the unexpected.
"I am she who freed your children," Alisande said severely "and I tell you now: Hold your peace!"
"You did not save my child!" one woman wailed. "They brought him home, a corpse!"
And the clamor started again, not shouts, but scattered cries of outrage. It didn't seem inclined to boost any higher, though; Alisande sat her horse, staring coldly at them.
"They see me shorn of my power and come for vengeance." The fear was gone from Sayeesa's face, washed under by a look of resignation, almost determination. "And I cannot gainsay them; for I have taken youth after youth and drained them all." She bowed her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "Oh, dear Lord! If only..."
"Let us speak, instead, of how we'll meet this coil," Alisande said drily, "for I have no wish to harm them. They are good and worthy peasants, I doubt not, and their grievance is just. How shall we deal with them, Sir Guy?"
"Do you not see?" Sayeesa's head came up, wide-eyed in astonishment. "Surrender me to them! Let none more suffer for my sins!"
"Are you out of your mind?" Matt rounded on her. "They'll tear you to pieces! Sorry, lady - you don't buy free that easy. You've got some work left in this world, or the good Father wouldn't have put you in my charge."
"Charge?" Alisande swung about. "What geas is this?"
"Just a little matter of an oath," Matt explained. "The friar attached a rider to my penance, you see - I have to make sure Sayeesa gets safely to wherever he's sent her."
"And where is that?" There was a dangerous undertone to Alisande's voice.
Sayeesa turned to the princess. "I go to the convent of Saint Cynestria, there to spend my days in prayer and fasting."
Alisande's eyes held an approving glint. "Cynestria - the cloistered home of women who have sinned greatly, but now repent. You shall have high company there, wench."
Sayeesa nodded bitterly. "Aye, duchesses and ladies of high rank. Yet are there not many, too, of peasant blood? Is this not just?"
"Fitting, at least." Alisande turned back to look out over the mutinous, muttering peasants. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, 'tis just, and may have some purpose in it, as Lord Matthew thinks." Her mouth tightened in chagrin. "I cannot deny it. You must needs journey there, Sayeesa. And we must see you come there safely."
Matt heaved a sigh of relief. "So what do we do, Highness? Lug out the swords? Tell Stegoman to whip up a bit of napalm?"
"I do not fear peasants, Lord Matthew. I protect them."
"Lady," cried a youth, "surely that is the dragon that aided in defeating the witch, and as surely you are the noble lady who commanded us to return to our homes. How, then, can you stand between us and the sorceress?"
"And why should I give her to you?" the princess countered.
"Why?" A portly man elbowed his way through the crowd to stand before Alisande's horse. "Why, because four of the children of this village went to the witch - and only three came home alive this day! She merits burning, Lady - 'tis the punishment for witchcraft!"
"What punishment is her desert, God shall give," Alisande said sternly, "for she has repented and confessed her sins, and the priest has granted her absolution."
An outraged clamor broke, but Alisande glared stonily at the crowd, and they subsided to an ugly muttering.
"Absolution!" the spokesman squawled. "For a witch? For one who has sinned as deeply and widely as she?"
"Even so." The crack of the princess's voice cut off the muttering. "If there is a sin so great it cannot be forgiven, I know not of it. Is this not even as our Savior said?"
The spokesman hunched up his shoulders, glowering. "What penance could the priest require that could balance so many sins?"
"She goes to the convent of St. Cynestria, there to spend her life in prayer."
The mutter started up again, but now it had overtones of surprise and consternation.
"If this be so," the spokesman said slowly, "we have small claim upon her, for she is God's."
"If it be so," a crone shrilled.
"You doubt me?" Alisande asked it with the full weight of regal hauteur.
The crone blanched and ducked back into the crowd; but some body in the back yelled, "The church!" Other voices took it up: "The church, the church!"
"Aye!" the spokesman cried. "If she is shriven, as you say, let her step within our church and take the Sacrament - for if she is' a witch unshriven, she'll not be able to bear a holy place!"
"I tell you, she is shriven!" Alisande's anger kindled. "Who are you to doubt me!"
The spokesman shrank back from the lash of her voice, but answered stubbornly, "I do not doubt you, Lady - but even one of noble rank may be deceived."
Alisande started to answer, then caught herself, and glowered down at him in fury.
But Sir Guy was nodding, almost in approval. "A point well taken, goodman. Yet we have seen her shriven."
The peasant shook his head stubbornly. "It is even as I said, Sir Knight: noblemen may be deceived. There are mirages, weirds, glamours, and other foul dreams."
"True, true." Sir Guy chewed at his moustache, then cocked an eyebrow at Alisande.
Her lips tightened.
"Oh, come on!" Matt snapped. "Are we going to sit here all day, debating the nature of reality? They've cited a fair test, and I don't see any harm in it. I could do with Communion myself!"
The crowd gave a shout of triumph, and suddenly people were running, leaping in from every side, to surround Sayeesa's horse and drag her down. Matt saw a tatter of gray cloth go flying, and bellowed, grabbing at his sword. But a steel hand clamped down on his wrist, and he looked up to see Sir Guy shaking his head. Behind him, Alisande cried out, outraged, "Now I command you, hold!"
All movement gelled. Then heads lifted, startled, staring at the princess in disbelief. She glared back, eyes half hooded, grimly; and slowly the people began to step back, muttering angrily.
"Stand away and let the witch come forward!" Alisande demanded; reluctantly, the central knot of men parted. Sayeesa stepped forward, pulling the tattered robe about her, trying to hold the rips closed. She was pale and shaken, but the determined resignation was still there. She glared up at Alisande, and her voice was low; but clear. "Let them take me, let them rend me as they wish! I will not deny them, though I die; for it is just."
"I shall say what is and is not just and when you'll die or live!" the princess answered.
Matt looked at Alisande with a new respect. Here, royalty was more than just a word.
Alisande raised her head, gazing at the crowd thoughtfully. "There is some sense in this test of theirs, and 'twill not delay us long." She looked down at Sayeesa. "How say you, wench? Will you go to church?"
"Aye, and gladly! I have a lifetime's praying to begin and am eager for the Eucharist!"
The crowd stared, totally shocked. Then the outraged murmuring began.
"Be still!" Alisande barked over the rumbling. "'Tis even as you demanded! We shall go to the church!"
Sir Guy grinned and held a hand down to Sayeesa. She caught his arm and swung up on her own saddle. They turned to follow, Alisande. The villagers crowded forward around Sayeesa's horse.
"Uh, Stegoman..."
"Aye, Wizard?"
"Not that I'm expecting anything, mind you -- but maybe we oughta kinda ride close to Sayeesa, just in case."