With a tearing scream, the huge black horse reared, steel hooves lashing out, the unicorn beside it, goring men with its silver horn. The Shire-Reeve's men howled in superstitious fear and crowded back against their own companions in a huge knot, surrounded by King's men.
Through it all raged a great chestnut warhorse with a golden knight on its back, shouting, "Onward, brave fellows!
Onward! For glory and freedom! Hurl the soldiers aside! Hack through to the core! Seize the vile recreant who seeks to slay children!"
"King Tuan!" Cordelia cried, eyes streaming.
The King it was, laying about him, hacking and hewing his way to the pile of men on top of the boys.
That pile exploded with sudden, shattering force, a dozen men flying outward, striking their fellows and knocking them down. An eighteen-inch elf stood where they'd been, face pale with fury, as the two boys scrambled to their feet, gasping for breath.
"Ga-a-a-llowgla-a-ss!" a great voice bellowed, and a small dark body shot from the King's horse like a cannonball, landing beside the two boys, laying about him, two feet high, huge-headed and black-bearded—Brom O'Berin, the King's Privy Councillor, come to defend the children who were his favorites in all the land. He leaped, kicking and slamming punches. Armed soldiers fell back from his blows. Foot by foot, he cleared the path between the boys and Cordelia, and she caught up Gregory and ran to her brothers with a glad cry.
The Shire-Reeve's men turned to face the new enemy—but they were all about, ringing in the whole clearing, crowding in by the hundred, against fifty. The Shire-Reeve's guards fought with the desperation of men who know they cannot retreat; but one young soldier cried, "Mercy! I yield me! Have mercy!" and dropped his pike, throwing his arms up, palms open. A King's soldier yanked him by the collar, hurling him behind and out of the fight, where more soldiers, coming out of the trees, stood ready to catch him and tie him up.
Seeing him still alive, other soldiers began to cry, "I yield me!"
"I yield me!" The King's men caught them and pulled them out of danger.
"He is a traitor who yields him!" the Shire-Reeve shouted. "A traitor and a fool! Fight! 'Tis thine only hope—for the King shall hang thee if thou dost surrender!"
"A pardon to any man who yields him!" King Tuan bellowed. "Full pardon and mercy! I shall hang no man who was constrained to fight! Surrender and live!"
"He lies!" The Shire-Reeve screamed; but the King knocked the last bodyguard aside, and his horse leaped up to the Reeve.
The Shire-Reeve howled like a berserker in fury and stabbed at the King, sword-point probing for the eye-slits in the helmet; but Tuan's sword leaped to parry, whirled about in riposte, and stabbed down as the King lunged, full extension. The Shire-Reeve gave a last curdling scream, and his eyes glazed even as the sword transfixed him, piercing his heart. Then he fell, and Tuan yanked the sword free. "Thy master is dead!" he roared. "Yield! What cause hast thou for fighting now? Yield thee, and live!"
The Shire-Reeve's soldiers hesitated, for but a second— but that was enough for Tuan's finest. In that moment, they struck the weapons from their enemies' hands and set the points of their pikes to the throats of the Reeve's men. The enemy shouted, "I yield me! I yield me!" holding up their empty hands, and King Tuan wiped his blade and cried, "Let them live!"'
When the soldiers had shackled the Shire-Reeve's officers and led them away, Tuan nodded to his own men. "Let them flee."
Glowering, the legionnaires stood aside, and the Shire-Reeve's peasants blinked up at them, trying to believe they were really free, but afraid they were not.
"I did declare I would not harm any man who hath been constrained to fight for the Shire-Reeve," Tuan said. "Now go, and tell thy fellows what hath happed here."
With a glad cry, the peasant boys turned and bolted.
As they disappeared among the trees, Brom O'Berin rumbled, "Was that wise, Majesty?"
"It was," Tuan said, with full certainty. "They will bear word to the Shire-Reeve's army, and the army will disband, each man going to his home, as most of them wish to do. The remainder will know their cause is lost with the Shire-Reeve's death." Then he turned to the children.
Four chastened and humbled Gallowglasses looked up at him with foreboding—and an apprehensive Puck eyed Brom O'Berin warily.
"We thank thee, Majesty, that thou hast saved us in our hour of desperation," Magnus managed.
"I rejoice that I came in time," Tuan returned. "Yet I trust thou hast learned not to meddle with armies again, till thou art grown!"
"Oh, aye!"
" 'Twas dangerous folly, we now know!"
"We will never dare such hazard again!"
Tuan reserved his own opinion about that—and he noticed that Geoffrey hadn't said anything. Still, he counted his winnings and decided to stand pat.
Cordelia said, greatly daring, "Yet how didst thou know we stood in such great need"of rescue?"
Tuan smiled. "For that, thou hast another to thank." He turned to the trees and called, "Come forth, Highness!"
There was a moment's silence; then Alain stepped out from between the trees with Kelly beside him.
The silence stretched; then Puck muttered, "I commanded thee to take him home!"
"Aye, ye did." Kelly's beard jutted up defiantly. "Yet if I had, what would have become of the other children?"
"Would thou hadst ta'en such great caution with all those entrusted to thy care." Brom O'Berin glared at Puck.
Puck looked away. "Who could ha' known the Shire-Reeve had his own tame warlock?"
"Who should ha' known better than the Puck?" Brom re-torted.
Puck bit his lip. "I cry thy worship's pardon; I mistook."
"Gentlefolk," Tuan murmured. Dwarf and elf alike fell si-lent, and the King bowed gravely to his son. "I thank thee for thy timely news."
Equally formally, the Crown Prince returned the bow. "I rejoice that I have been of service." He cast a glance at the Gallowglasses. "Mother was so far away—and 'twas even as Puck said: Father was scarce two miles off!"
"Let him not deceive thee," Tuan said kindly. "He was concerned for thy safety."
"As well he should have been," Brom muttered.
"And I must thank thee," Tuan said to the Gallowglasses, "for thy loyalty. An all my subjects were so true and courageous, I would have little to concern me."
They stood, staring; then Cordelia, blushing, dropped a curtsy, and the boys, suddenly remembering their manners, bowed. "We are only glad that we could aid," Cordelia said.
"'Tis well for me that thou didst. Thanks to thee, this greatest threat to Queen Catharine and myself—and thy friends the princes—is removed; for, due to thine action, I took this Shire-Reeve unawares, yet with honor."
The blush spread to the boys.
Tuan turned to Alain. "Thou hast served me well this day, my son."
Alain fairly beamed.
"Yet I cannot help but wonder," Brom O'Berin rumbled, "how much of what they did was out of fear for Their Majesties, and how much was adventure." He glowered at Kelly. "Thou, I'll wager, couldst not abide the thought of being far from battle."
The elf hunched in on himself, but Puck spoke up. "The fault, my lord, was mine. 'Twas I who led them out against enemies."
"Aye, but the enemy was not the Shire-Reeve," Magnus said quickly. "'Twas a fell giant, who gave us little trouble."
Brom's head snapped up; he stared, appalled.
"Coming to fight the Shire-Reeve was our choice," Geoffrey seconded.
"Yet not thine idea." King Tuan bent a stern eye on his son, who seemed to shrink. "I mind me an I bade a certain person to bide at home, for the protection of his mother."
"I could not see thee go against such odds," Alain wailed.
"Bless thee for thy caring, son," Tuan said, thawing a little, "yet I've faced such odds before, and won."