"Go doit!" he shouted. "Go nowiFor the Queen!"
"For the Queen!"
Tuan flipped his hand; the drum boomed loud and fast. "Hunting call!" Tuan snapped in aside to Rod.
Rod flourished the trumpet to his lips and began the quick, bubbling notes.
"Go!" Tuan roared.
The people broke, to their rooms, to the armory. In ten minutes time they had caught up packs, staffs, and knives.
"It is done!" Tuan leaped down off the rail to the balcony floor. "They'll ha' run down to Breden Plain in two days!" He grinned, slapping Big Tom's shoulders. "We ha' done it, Tom!"
Tom roared his laughter and threw his arms about Tuan in a bear-hug.
"Whew!" Tuan gasped as Tom dropped him. He turned to Rod. "Do you, friend Gallowglass, tell the Queen, and see that the word of it goes out to her soldiers. Tell her to send meat, tents, and ale, and right quickly. And do you hurl these lackeys"—his thumb jerked at the Mocker and his lieutenants—"deep into the Queen's dungeon. Farewell!" And he was bounding and leaping down the stairs.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Rod shouted, running to the rail. "Where do you think you're going?"
"To Breden Plain!" Tuan shouted, stopping to look back up. "I must guard my people, or they'll strip the countryside worse than any plague of locusts could do, and kill themselves off in a fight o'er the spoils. Do you tell Catharine of my"—he paused; a shadow crossed his face—"loyalty."
Then he was gone, leading the mob that boiled out the great front doors of the house, running before them in a wild, madcap dance.
Rod and Tom exchanged one glance, then turned and ran for the stairs to the roof.
They watched from the rooftop as the chanting mob poured out the south gate. Somehow, by means of the chant, Tuan had gotten them moving in good order, almost marching.
"Do you think he needs any help?" Rod murmured.
Tom threw back his head and guffawed. "Him, master? Nay, nay! Rather, help those who come up against him, with that army at his back!"
"But only one man, Tom! To lead two thousand misfits!"
"Canst doubt it, master, when thou hast seen his power? Or didst thou not see?"
"Oh, I saw." Rod nodded, light-headed. 'There's more witchcraft in this land than I thought, Big Tom. Yes, I saw."
"Waken the Queen, and beg of her that she join us here in her audience chamber!" Brom snapped at a hastily-wakened lady-in-waiting. "Go!"
He slammed the door and turned to the fireplace, where Rod sat with a bleary-eyed Toby, rudely awakened after only an hour o sleep; the nightly party in the Witches' Tower had run a little late tonight. He held a steaming mug in his hand and a throb in his head.
"Assuredly," he muttered thickly, "we wish to aid the Queen in any manner we may; but what aid would we be in a battle?"
"Leave that to me." Rod smiled. "I'll find something for you to do. You just get the Queen's Witches down to Breden Plain by… uh…"
"Three days hence." Brom smiled. "We march at dawn, and will be three days in our journey."
Toby nodded, hazily. "We shall be there, my masters. And now, with your leave…"
He started to rise, gasped, and sank back in his chair, hand pressed to his head.
"Easy there, boy!" Rod grasped an elbow, steadying him. "First hangover?"
"Oh, nay!" Toby looked up, blinking watery eyes.
" 'Tis but the first time I've been wakeful when the drunk turned to the hangover. If you'll pardon me, masters…"
The air slammed at their eardrums as it rushed in to fill the space where Toby had been.
"Uh…yes," Rod said. He shook his head and eyed Brom. "Teleportative, too?"
Brom frowned. "Tele-what?"
"Uh…" Rod closed his eyes a moment, cursing the slip of the tongue. "I take it he's just gone back to bed."
"Aye."
"He can disappear from here and reappear there?"
"Quick as thought, aye."
Rod nodded. "That's what I thought. Well, itoughta come in handy."
"What wilt thou have them do, RodGallowglass?"
"Oh, I dunno." Rod waved his mug airily. "Conjure up feathers inside the Southern knights' armor, maybe. Or something like that, good for a joke. They'll just die laughing."
"Thou knowest not what thou'lt be having them do, yet thou would bring them?"
"Yeah, I'm beginning to think a little witchcraft can come in handy at times."
"Aye." Brom smiled covertly. "She hath saved your life twice over, hath she not?"
Rod swung about. "She? Who? She who, huh? What're you talking about?"
"Why, Gwendylon!" Brom's smile absorbed mischief.
"Oh, yes! Uh… you know of her?" Rod raised a cautious eyebrow; then he smiled, relaxing. "No, of course you'd know of her. I forget; she's on pretty good terms with the elves."
"Aye, I know of her." Brom's eyebrows pinched together. "Nay, but tell me," he said, almost anxiously, "didst thou love her?"
"Love her?" Rod stared. "What the hell business is that of yours?"
Brom waved a hand impatiently." Tis of concern to me; let it pass at that. Dost thou love her?"
"I won't let it pass at that!" Rod drew himself up with a look of offended honor.
"I am Prince of the Elves!" Brom snapped. "Might I not have concern for the most powerful witch in all Gramarye?"
Rod stared, appalled. "The most… what?"
Brom smiled sourly. "Thou didst not know? Aye, Rod Gallowglass. 'Tis a most puissant wench thou hast grappled with. Therefore, do you tell me:dost thou love her?"
"Well, uh, I, uh…I don't know!" Rod sat, cradling his head in his hands. "I mean, uh, this is all so sudden,I, uh…"
"Nay, nay!" Brom growled impatiently. "Surely thou must know if thou lovest!"
"Well, I mean, uh… well, no, I don't know! I mean, that's a subject that it's a little hard to be objective about, isn't it?"
"Thou dost not know?" Thunderclouds gathered in Brom's face.
"No, damn it, I don't!"
"Why, thou fool of a puking babe, thou mock of a man! Dost thou not know thine own heart?"
"Well, uh, there's the aortic ventricle, and, uh.
"Then how am I to know if thou lovest her?" Brom thundered.
"How the hell should I know?" Rod shouted. "Ask my horse!"
A quivering page thrust his head in, then came quivering into the room. "My lords, her Majesty the Queen!"
Brom and Rod swung about, bowed.
Catharine entered in a dressing gown of the royal purple her loosened hair a pale, disordered cloud around her head. She looked very tired, and scarcely wakened.
"Well, milords," she snapped, seating herself by the fire, "what great news is it makes you waken me at so slight an hour?"
Rod inclined his head toward the page. The boy paled, bowed, and left.
"TheHouse of Clovis is up, into arms, and away," Rod informed her.
She stared, lips parting.
"They have boiled out of the south gate, and this very night run south toward Breden Plain."
Catharine's eyes closed; she sank back in her chair with a sigh. "May Heaven be praised!"
"And Tuan Loguire," Rod murmured.
Her eyes opened, staring. "Aye. And Tuan Loguire," she said reluctantly.
Rod turned away, running his hand over the mantle. "They must be sent food and drink, so that they will not strip the countryside as they pass. And a courier must ride ahead to tell soldiers to let them pass."
"Aye," she said grudgingly, "surely."
Her eyes wandered to the fire. "And yet it is strange, that they who have ever raised their voices in clamor against me, now should fight for me," she murmured.
Rod looked at her, his smile tight and ironic.
"Tuan…" she murmured.
Brom cleared his throat and stumped forward, hands locked behind his back. "And this very night," he growled, "have I spoken with the King of the Elves; all his legions are ours."
She was her old self again, smiling sourly. "Legions of elves, Brom O'Berin?"
"Oh, don't underestimate them." Rod rubbed the back of his head, remembering a clout on the skull and a prisoned werewolf. "And to top it off, we've got your own personal coven of witches…"