Quicksilver's eyes narrowed. "You are perhaps too quick-witted for my own good."
"Oh, I would not be overly concerned about that," Cordelia said with a smile.
Quicksilver turned to her in surprise, and some secret, silent communication seemed to pass between them, for Quicksilver smiled a little, too. "Perhaps, but I am not his sister."
"Praise Heaven for that," Geoffrey breathed, and Cordelia glanced at him in irritation. "No, she is your prisoner."
"'Tis a rare prisoner who bears a broadsword," Alain noted.
"He has just now given it back to me," Quicksilver retorted, "which he must, if he wishes my aid against these bandits."
"And when the fight is done?" Alain demanded. "Will you give it back to him, then?"
"Will he demand it?" Quicksilver countered.
"Let us win the battle before we deal with the peace," Geoffrey said quickly. "Cordelia has come to heal these villagers, Quicksilver."
The bandit chief frowned. "How are they ill?"
"From poor food," Cordelia told her. "My brother has given them enough to remedy that—if we can persuade the wives to take in that heap of string beans before the crows come for it."
"There is no trouble in that," Quicksilver snapped, and turned toward the huts. "Ho! Wives of the village! Come to Quicksilver! At once!"
The women emerged, wavered for a second, then came hurrying to the chieftain.
"She is not tremendously tactful," Cordelia pointed out in a low voice.
"No," Geoffrey agreed, "but she achieves results." Cordelia glanced at him keenly. "Brother, do not seek results that you should not!"
"No fear," Geoffrey said softly. "This one is different."
"I had not noticed," Cordelia said drily.
"Had you not? She is magnetic, she is a very dynamo, she is..."
"Geoffrey," Alain said softly, "your sister is being sarcastic again."
Geoffrey looked at Cordelia in surprise, then gave her a sheepish grin. "I ride my hobbyhorse, do I not?"
"You do not," Cordelia snapped, "and you had best not!"
The women were hurrying back to their huts, each with an apronful of string beans, and Quicksilver strode back to them. "I have made them swear not to cook them until the bandits have come and gone." She glared at Geoffrey. "How did you bring it here, warlock?"
"Why," he answered, "you should know, witch."
"Is she really?" Cordelia seemed very interested. "But one untutored, no doubt."
"Aye," Quicksilver said reluctantly, "if by that you mean I have had to learn the usage of my powers by myself."
"I did. Know, then, proud lady, that warlocks can move things from one place to another in an instant, merely by thinking of it; we call that 'teleportation.' "
Quicksilver stared in indignation. "Men can, but we cannot? 'Tis quite unfair!"
"Aye," Cordelia said in a soothing tone, "but they cannot make objects fly just by thinking at them—save themselves."
"Your brother can."
"All my brothers can," Cordelia answered. "They alone among all the warlocks of Gramarye, and 'tis even as you have said—it is quite unfair."
Alain suddenly lifted his head. "I hear the clash of harness."
Everyone fell silent for a few seconds. Then Quicksilver said, "You have good ears—I cannot hear a shred of it. But I hear their thoughts. You have the right of it—the bandits come." She turned to Geoffrey. "Do you take the eastern side of this common, and your sister's betrothed with you, to guard your back."
Geoffrey almost retorted that he did not need anyone to guard his back, then realized that it was a way for him to protect Alain without the Prince being aware of it. He wondered if Quicksilver had been thinking of that, then was quite sure she had.
"Aloft, damsel!" Quicksilver commanded. "I must go sit as bait." And she turned away, to stride to a low stool that stood in the middle of the little common.
Cordelia watched her go with a small smile, then turned away to her broomstick. Alain and Geoffrey were on their way to hide among the huts, and Quicksilver was hiding her sword in the grass at her side. The bandits were in for quite a surprise.
CHAPTER 10
The bandits came riding out of the trees, between the huts, and into the village common.
These are wealthy for brigands, Geoffrey thought. Their clothes are rich, and decked with ornaments.
But their lace is filthy, and their velvet doublets soiled and slashed, Fess pointed out.
They are slovenly, Cordelia put in from her vantage point above. Wealthy slovens, but slovens nonetheless. The biggest bandit rode at the front and reined in ten feet from Quicksilver. "Ho! What beauty have we here? They have been saving the best till now!"
Quicksilver made her eyes huge and round. "What men are you?"
"Why, I am the bandit Maul, and these are my men." The chief grinned, showing stained teeth with several gaps. "Bandit?" Quicksilver cried, aghast. "They told me their lord would come to woo me for his bride!"
Maul threw back his head and laughed. His men echoed him. "Why, you have been duped," he said, wiping his eyes. "What are you—some traveller who was passing, and was beguiled into taking the place of the maid I demanded?"
"You! Are you their lord?"
"In some measure," Maul said, relishing her evident fear. "Not their legal lord, no—he is a craven who will not fight me, so I lord it over this village to my heart's content, and they pay me tribute in food, wine, and women. If they do not, I shall burn their village to the ground, aye, and all their men and old women as well!"
"I am betrayed!" Quicksilver cried, shrinking in on herself.
Geoffrey knew the fear was a pretense, but even so, his blood raged within him, and he ached to feel Maul's throat between his fingers.
"Aye, betrayed, but their lie had some truth in it." Maul swung down off his horse and came toward her. "I am their lord, in a fashion, as I've said—and I do come to woo, though not for marriage." He reached out for her ...
Quicksilver moved so fast that she was almost a blur. She reached down into the grass beside her, then thrust upward, right into Maul's groin.
Brother, came Cordelia's thought, are you sure you wish to travel with this woman?
Maul froze, staring down horrified at the unbelievable gout of blood pumping from him as Quicksilver yanked her sword free. But his anguish lasted only seconds; she leaped to her feet and lunged, stabbing deep into his chest as she screamed, "Havoc!"
The sound broke the trance of horror that held Maul's bandits. They were men of violence and brutality, and hardened to the sight of bloody horrors. With one massive shout, they charged down upon the lone woman.
But she was alone no longer; the second she had shouted "Havoc!" Geoffrey had kicked his horse, breaking from the cover of the huts to her side, with Alain right behind him on Quicksilver's mount. They stood now to either hand, swords at the ready.
Her own bandits were just as quick, though unmounted. They burst from the huts all around, from the trees behind. But the bandits in front were too crazed with anger to pay attention. They rode straight for Quicksilver, swords high...
The swords twisted in their hands and stabbed down at them.
The front rank recoiled with howls of superstitious fear, even as their horses reached Quicksilver.
Fess leaped forward, shouldering one stallion aside, and Geoffrey stabbed without compunction, though he did aim for the shoulder, not the heart. The man slumped in his saddle, howling, even as Geoffrey turned to stab the man on his left. He was aware of hoarse shrieks of pain, of outlaws swinging their shields up above their heads to ward off a rain of rocks—and of the quarterstaves that thrust up at them from below. But more than anything else, he was aware of the burning need to keep any of these brutes from coming near Quicksilver. He parried and slashed, working his way along the line, praying that Fess would not have a seizure ...