They were silent a moment longer, thinking the matter over, before Quicksilver delivered her verdict: “Something misled them.”
“Aye,” said Cordelia. “There could be no other explanation.”
“But what?” asked Allouette, eyes wide in amazement.
CHAPTER 5
“What indeed?” Cordelia finally met her gaze.
“It could not be a will o’ the wisp,” Quicksilver said, “or any other sort of marsh-fire, for they would recognize such things and avoid them.”
“Or banish them,” Cordelia agreed. “No, something has clouded their minds quite thoroughly.”
“What could so becloud a warlock’s mind?” Quicksilver’s brows drew down.
“Only a spell that they knew not of,” Allouette answered.
Quicksilver gave her a wary look. “How could such a thing be done, lady?”
Allouette reddened, realizing that in Quicksilver’s mind she was the authority on underhanded tricks, sneaky strategies, and hidden betrayals. Well, she deserved that—and the cure that Gwendylon had begun in her did not remove her knowledge. “Cast an enchantment on him while he is distracted,” she said.
“You mean while Gregory sits in meditation?”
“No, even in that state he is aware of the world about him,” Allouette said impatiently. “It would have to be a charm laid upon him when he is in the midst of battle, or when he has discovered a new idea in study.”
“Or when he has found a few minutes alone with you, I’ll warrant,” Quicksilver said.
Allouette paled. “You do not think that I would betray him now!”
“I do not,” Quicksilver returned, “but I do think that you can distract him and hold his attention far better than anything save battle.”
“Oh, study can—”
“He would far rather study your lips and eyes than any book,” Cordelia said with asperity.
“Well . . . there’s some truth to that.” Allouette tried to hide her smile, then lifted her head and said sharply, “But if any sought to enchant him while I was with him, I would know it and turn upon them!”
Cordelia’s head snapped up. “Do you say that you are not as riveted to him as he to you?”
“Even when we have time alone,” Allouette countered, “his well-being is my prime concern.”
Cordelia studied her a moment, then nodded. “I believe you—and that is a wholesale conversion indeed.”
“Why, because I sought his downfall?” Allouette asked sardonically. “Believe me, lady, that is all the more reason why I am determined to ward him now!”
“I wish you all luck in doing so,” Cordelia answered. “Truly, if the two of you are each intent on the other’s well-being, it should be a thriving marriage.”
Surprised, Allouette searched her face for signs of sarcasm or mockery, but there were none.
“I do not think, though,” said Quicksilver, “that you were the cause of his distraction in this. Indeed, this confusion-spell was laid upon him as the moutaineers kidnapped you.”
“Yes, that would hold his attention,” Cordelia agreed. “As to Alain and Geoffrey, battle of any kind would suffice to distract them.”
“So some enchanter has clouded their minds unbeknownst and leads them about in circles,” Quicksilver concluded.
“How certain a circle, think you?” Allouette asked. “Have we only to wait here ere they return once more?”
Quicksilver studied the ground. “The tracks are too old; they returned only twice, and the most recent was hours ago. No, whatever malicious spirit leads them, it has taken them farther into the wildwood.”
An awful thought struck Allouette. “Quickly, let us follow! It may be they travel toward the mountaineers’ home!”
The other two looked up, astonished. Then Quicksilver said, “That would be a good tactic, yes.”
Cordelia’s eyes were frightened, but she said, “If they are merely befuddled, not led . . .”
“They might still strike the mountaineers’ trail and follow it!” Allouette cried. “Especially since they seek me!”
Cordelia paled, then nodded. “Yes, let us track them.” She turned away with renewed purpose.
“Come, summon resolution!” Geoffrey clapped Gregory on the shoulder. “If you love the lass, trace their tracks and steal her back!”
Gregory’s face hardened. He rose, taut and determined. “Even as you say. Come, let us follow in their wake.”
He started forward, but Geoffrey caught his sleeve. “Softly, brother. They may be baiting a trap.”
Gregory froze, then gave a single nod. “Lead on, sir knight.”
Geoffrey took the lead. Alain, in prudence, fell in behind Gregory—if the scholar should do something rash, he intended to be handy to stop him.
Geoffrey led them in among the trees but within sight of the furrow the mountaineers had ploughed in the grass. Up the hillside they went, and the trees closed over the grassland.
Geoffrey stopped. “Ward me, gentlemen. I must walk in their steps now, for I shall not be able to see their tracks so far from the side.”
“All should be well,” Alain said, “so long as we go deliberately and with all due care. After all, they cannot ambush a telepath.”
Geoffrey gazed ahead, eyes losing focus for a few seconds; then he nodded. “They still flee. They have not yet thought to surprise us.”
“Not the ones whose thoughts you read,” Alain reminded him. “There may be others who have learned to hide what they are thinking.”
“That is somewhat sophisticated for a rough mountaineer,” Geoffrey said, “but so is their manner of ambush, or we’d not have fallen prey to it. Well, we shall walk warily.”
Gregory tried reading the kidnappers’ thoughts too, and anger burned in his eyes when he heard them.
“Do not deny them some feeling of triumph, brother,” Geoffrey said gently. “They shall not have it long.”
“No, they shall not!” Gregory glared at the trees ahead as though he could see through them to the kidnappers.
Geoffrey looked down and walked forward, tracking their enemies. Uphill they went, through the trees, with Gregory and Alain vigilant and ready for the slightest sign of danger. Then the ground began to fall away. They walked downhill steadily, until the trees thinned.
“Now we come to a clearing!” Gregory drew his wand, eyes flashing.
“But why do their thoughts still seem to come from a distance?” Geoffrey wondered.
They crept forth from the trees and had their answer. Gregory stared about him, slack-jawed. “We are back where we were ambushed! How could they lay so false a trail so quickly?”
“Is it false?” Alain asked. “Listen to every thought, wizards, whether it be of earthworm, squirrel, or bird! If a woodsman can call like a jay, he may be able to think like one, too!”
“Well thought,” Geoffrey said with surprised approval. Alain was the very soul of fairness, loyalty, and truth; he was steady as a rock, clear-headed in a crisis, and had an unimpeachable sense of judgment—but not much insight. Geoffrey hoped he was learning, although he had to admit Alain’s qualities were far more important to the monarch he would one day be, than great intelligence.
Gregory looked very pensive for several minutes, then shook his head. “None are near.”
“Then how did they lay a trail back here?” Geoffrey exploded. He hated being tricked.
They were still for a few minutes, looking at one another and trying to make sense of it. Then Alain said, “Was it truly them?”
“Who else could it have been?” Geoffrey asked with a frown.
“Some forest spirit?” Gregory gazed off into the woods. “It could be. I hear none, but magical creatures might guard their thoughts well.”