"Of those who have not, no," she said judiciously, "though I confess I take pleasure in seeing the suffering of those who have wronged me."
"Then you have not tyrannized the peasants?"
She frowned, unsure about the change in subject. "Ask among them, if you can disguise yourself so that they do not know you come from Their Majesties. I have."
"What?" Geoffrey demanded. "Gone among them in disguise?"
"Aye, and though they have many grievances, my rule was not one of them."
Geoffrey wondered if her disguise had really been all that good. "They found you fair, then."
"Do not you?" she demanded, with a vindictive smile. Geoffrey stared, then realized the pun and reddened. He was appalled at himself—no woman had been able to embarrass him for years. He forced a leer and said, "Most fair, indeed—but I speak of your conduct, not your face."
"I know you speak not of my face," she said tartly. "As to my peasants, be mindful that I grew up among them—that as a squire's daughter, I was ever in converse with them. I know their grievances far better than could any lord who was born to his title. Mind you, I have dealt severely with those who seek to prey upon their weaker neighbors—and many men in my villages must smoulder with rage because I will not let them use the women as they would. To them, no doubt, I am a tyrant—but not to any good husband nor respectful swain. I doubt not there are many women who resent my seizing power, and decry me for an unwomanly rogue, but I do not seek to silence them."
"Here is no tyranny, then, nor any great oppression—but you are an outlaw, and have fought against the duly appointed nobility. I fear we must go to the Crown for judgement, no matter how wrong it may seem. Will you give me parole, or must I bind your hands?"
CHAPTER 7
"Only while you sleep," she assured him.
"'Tis better, then, that you do not sleep," said a voice behind them.
Geoffrey spun about.
Three tall young men stood lounging at the edge of the clearing by the stream. They were broad-shouldered and handsome, with open faces that would normally have been friendly—but at the moment, their hands rested on the hilts of the swords by their sides, and their faces were grim.
Geoffrey studied them for a moment, then said to Quicksilver, "Your mother bore a handsome family."
"Lord Geoffrey," she said, "these are my brothers Leander . .."
The young man in front, with the broadest shoulders and darkest hair, nodded politely.
"...Martin..." Quicksilver said.
The young man on the left, with the reddish hair, forced a smile; then it vanished.
"And this, I take it is Jory." Geoffrey nodded at the young man with the fair hair, on the right.
"You have a good memory," Quicksilver said.
"And we have a sister," Leander said. "We wish to keep her."
Geoffrey could fairly feel the tension thrumming through him, the mounting delight at the prospect of battle. "This is a family affair, then."
"Well, not quite." Leander made a beckoning circle with his hand, and the leaves beside him rustled as foresters stepped forward, some with arrows nocked, some with swords or axes in hand, most with nothing but quarterstaves—but Geoffrey could tell from the way they held them that they were skilled in their use. Even across the little brook, a score of men stepped forward—and the Amazons stepped up to circle protectively around their leader.
"Why, how is this, lady?" Geoffrey demanded, not looking at Quicksilver but at her brothers. "You agreed that it would be war between us two and us two only, and that your freedom would be forfeit if you lost."
"I did indeed!"
"But we did not," Leander said with a wolfish grin. "We find that we cannot abide the thought of our sister in chains, and verge on frenzy at the thought of her hanging."
Geoffrey winced at the picture that conjured up, but he held his ground. "Have you forgotten the purpose of our bargain?"
"To spare our lives?" Leander drew his sword. "We will chance it."
"But I will not!" Quicksilver darted between them. "Nay, forfend! If I must fight this man again, I shall—but myself alone!"
"Sister," Martin said, "it is we who should protect you, not you who should guard us. Nay, I think there shall be no need of fighting, for certainly this knight is wise enough in the ways of war to know a losing battle when he sees one."
Geoffrey nodded acknowledgement. "I have such wisdom—but I see no such sight."
Martin was taken aback for a moment; then he laughed. "Surely you do not think you can best our whole band!"
"With sword and strength alone, no," Geoffrey said, "but with magic, yes."
"No!" Quicksilver cried in panic. "You gave your word!"
"My word is void if yours is not kept."
"I have kept it!"
"But if we break your word for you, it is nonetheless broken." Leander nodded at the Amazons. "Take her in among you, ladies. I do not wish her near our fight."
Geoffrey's face went blank as he began to concentrate on the magical moves he was preparing.
"Have you not a sister?" Leander said, his voice low. That broke Geoffrey's concentration and set him aback. "Aye—I have. Surely you know of that, if you know who I am."
"I do," Leander said. "Would you let some stranger knight carry the Lady Cordelia off to judgement and certain death?"
"Nay, of course not." Geoffrey's grin spread slowly, reflecting Leander's wolfishness. "I would die to prevent it, if I had to."
"And so shall we," said Martin.
"You shall not!" Quicksilver cried. "You shall live and protect your peasants and your men! I alone have brought down Count Laeg and his knights, and I alone shall pay for it!"
"No, you shall not," Leander said softly, his gaze still locked with Geoffrey's. "Step aside, sister, for this has gone beyond you now."
"Beyond me! What ...?" Quicksilver glanced from Geoffrey to Leander and back. "Oh! It has become a test of strength between you, some foolish test of your manliness! A contest, an idiotic contest! Give over! It is not fit that good men should die only to prove their worth!"
"It is right and fitting," Geoffrey countered. "It is the way of Nature, beautiful lady, by which the strongest is chosen to strengthen the breed."
"You are men, not horses!" Quicksilver fairly screamed. "Put down those swords! I shall go to the King and Queen at Runnymede whether he brings me or not!"
"Not if I live," Leander said, and her two brothers gave a rumble of agreement that was picked up and carried around the circle of armed men. Quarterstaves rose, bows bent, and they all edged forward.
"Only I have drawn my sword yet," Leander said, but Martin and Jory both tightened the grip on their hilts. Geoffrey scowled, and executed the first step in his magical defense.
The hilt twisted under Martin's hand, and he leaped aside with an oath, then realized the thing that had twisted had come with him.
The outlaws let out a shout and brought their weapons up.
The polearms twisted in the hands of a dozen or so, and they cried out, dropping their bows and axes—but the Amazons just clutched their swords more tightly, lips thinned, and moved in.
"Now hold!" Quicksilver cried with the first signs of anger.
The Amazons halted, but still glared daggers at Geoffrey.
"Craven!" Leander snapped. "Dare you fight me without your magic?"
"Dare you fight me without your army?" Geoffrey returned. "Nay, even all three of you together—so long as you bid your bandits hold their blades, I'll not use my magic!"
"This is nonsense!" Quicksilver stormed. "If you fight, you fight with all you have! If you fight to see who is stronger, fight with blunted weapons! Fight with swords of lath! But play me no boys' game of limits!"