"Such as a comely lass passing near," Cordelia said sweetly.
Magnus gave her a dark look, but Gregory said, "Ah, but 'tis therefore that thy limbs do move to the music! For an 'twere but thine heartbeat, look you, thy limbs would be as much in accord as they ever were!"
"Gregory may have a point," Fess said slowly. "There are certain natural rhythms to the body's functions; the heartbeat is only one of them. And, as Geoffrey points out, once the music becomes too loud to truly ignore, the body naturally tends to respond."
"I wot no physician would countenance such a notion," Magnus muttered.
"Yes, but I am not a physician," Fess noted. "And I must stress, Magnus, that the idea we are discussing is only conjecture at the moment; it is not yet sufficently detailed to even be termed an hypothesis."
"Yet what hath made the music so much louder?" Geoffrey demanded.
"Why, the grown folk, brother," Cordelia explained. "When they threw so many stones together, there was more music in one place!"
"That would suffice for that one field, sister," Geoffrey answered, "yet it doth not explain the greater loudness all around us."
Cordelia stopped, casting about her. "Why, it hath grown! I do hear it all round! How is't I had not noticed that sooner, Fess?"
The robot started to reply, but a sudden cry belted from farther down the woodland path, around the bend. "Ho!" followed by a "Ha!" all in the woodwind timbre of adolescent boys' voices, repeating and repeating. "Ho! Ha! Ho! Ha!" Then, above their rhythm, came girls' voices, chanting:
"What manner of song is that?" Geoffrey asked, goggle-eyed.
Cordelia's nose wrinkled. "Oh! 'Tis vile! Is love naught but the press of bodies?"
"Yet who doth sing it?" Magnus asked, frowning.
Round the bend of the path they came, a chain of thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds, linked by clasped hands, their feet stamping out the pattern of a dance, their bodies and heads tossing in time to the music.
The Gallowglasses stared, astounded.
"What comes?" Geoffrey demanded.
Then the line of youths and maidens was upon them, twining them into their cordon as the Gallowglasses lurched staggering from one to another.
"Oh, come, or thou wilt never stand," a pretty maiden said, laughing. "Thou must dance or fall!"
"Must I truly?" Magnus muttered.
"I do not wish to dance!" Geoffrey snapped.
"Then leap aside," a hulking boy behind him retorted lightly. "Yet what ails thee, that thou dost not wish to step?"
"What ails thee, that thou dost wish it?"
But the boy didn't even seem to hear him; he had turned his head to gaze into the eyes of the girl behind him.
"What manner of music is this, that doth order thy feet?" Gregory gasped, hurrying to keep up.
"Why, 'tis our music!" the girl next to him answered. "Its strains are woven solely for folk of our age!"
"Canst thou not control thine own feet?"
"Wherefore?" The girl laughed. "I do love what they do!"
"Brace thyself against it!" Cordelia enjoined her. "Thou must needs be thine own master!"
The girl looked at her as though she were some sort of monster. "What manner of lass art thou, to not wish another to guide thee?"
"Mine own! A lass who will not be a chattel! Dost thou not see this throbbing sound doth rob thee of thy self?"
"Nay! How could it?" said another girl, also laughing. " 'Tis but entertainment!"
"Who hath told thee that?" Cordelia demanded furiously.
"Why, the very rocks do cry it!"
"The throbbing of it is wondrous!" a third girl said, eyes glowing. "It doth beat within thy blood; it doth set thy whole body to humming!"
Cordelia's eyes widened in horror. "Assuredly thou dost not believe the foul lie its words do sing!"
The first girl frowned at her. "What lie is that?"
"There is no lie in them, but truth!" said another girl farther down the line. She was a little taller than the others, buxom, and very pretty. She smiled at Magnus, eyelids drooping. "Dost thou not hear the wonder of them? Love!"
Magnus's eyes were fixed on her, fascinated, but he mustered the strength to answer, " 'Tis not love those words do speak of, but the hot, unbridled passion of the body's lust."
"What difference?" the girl asked, puzzled. Then she smiled again and leaned backward, and her lips seemed to grow fuller as her face swayed close to Magnus's. "Wherefore dost thou not dance? Doth not our company please thee?"
"Nay," Magnus managed, but he knew he lied.
She knew it, too. "My name is Lalaina. Wilt thou not tread the measure with us?"
"There is no measure, nor no rule, in that which thou dost seek." But Magnus's feet began to fall into step with hers, and his gaze was riveted to her face.
"Wherefore should there be?" Lalaina breathed. "We are young, in the season of joy! An we do not take our pleasures now, when shall we?"
"Dance," the boy behind him commanded, "or step aside! For we would raise the boughs with our singing, and thou dost bind us to the earth!"
"Canst thou not dance?" jeered another boy, Magnus's own size.
"Thou canst not be our friend an thou dost not tread the welkin with us," said a third, grinning.
Lalaina swayed a little further back, and let her lips brush Magnus's. He jolted to a stop, electrified, and the dancers rocked to a halt with him. All stood watching him, lips smiling, holding their breaths, poised…
Then Cordelia screeched. "Thou hussies! Thou vile, grasping liliths! Wouldst thou then drag him down with thee?"
"Aye," answered one tall girl, "with all my heart."
"And body." Lalaina gazed deeply into Magnus's eyes.
"He cannot wish to dance with them," Geoffrey cried, appalled.
"He doth hang in the balance." Gregory twisted away from the girl holding his hand and dove toward his big brother. "Magnus! Wake thee! They do weave a spell, they do enchant thee!"
"Why, 'tis no enchantment," a boy scoffed. "Tis but entertainment."
"Thou heartless wretches!" Cordelia stormed. "Dost thou think a woman's naught but a plaything?"
"Believe them not!" Gregory shouted to Magnus. "They do seek to ensorcel thee, to draw thee into the selfsame maelstrom of droning and stamping as they are caught in!"
"Give in to it," a boy coaxed. "Thou wilt not believe the pleasure of it, the heady giddy feeling!"
"Hold fast!" Gregory reached up to thump his big brother's arm. "Thou art thine own man, not some mindless puppet!"
"The music is great, the music is all!" another boy countered. "Submerge thyself in it; let it roll over thee! Then reach to find another's hand, to touch, to stroke!"
"Thou knowest right from wrong!" Gregory insisted. "Thou hast so often told me of it! 'Tis wrong, thou didst say, to let another think for thee! How much more wrong must it be, then, to let mere music make thee mindless?"
"Aye." Magnus's face hardened and, with a huge effort, he squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and turned away from Lalaina. "I am my own man still."
"Then thou art not ours!" the hulking youth cried. "Avaunt thee! Get thee hence!"