"Very clever, magician. But you had best hurry. My men have almost subdued the last of your knights. You have only the smoke and fog to cover your retreat."
Lucretius assessed the situation with a single glance at the smoke-shrouded courtyard. It was impossible to see much of what was happening, but it was clear that the clash of swords was lessening rapidly. Ulrich's voice could be heard above the din, demanding that the invaders yield.
Lucretius looked at Clare. "I would rather have a more certain shield.
Come here, Clare. I shall exchange young William for you."
"No," Gareth said. "You do not need her. You have my word that I will not stop you from leaving this courtyard."
"Forgive me if I do not trust the depth of your feelings for this boy,"
Lucretius said. "But I know that you will most certainly think carefully before you risk your lady's neck. Clare is, after all, the most valuable member of your household, is she not? Without her, the flowers of Desire are worthless.
Clare, come here at once."
"Clare, no," Gareth said roughly. He felt his stomach clench with fear.
"Tis for the best, my lord," Clare said. "Trust me."
She went calmly down the steps.
Lucretius did not hesitate. He released William, grabbed Clare, and crooked his arm around her throat.
Then he retreated swiftly into the haze that filled the courtyard.
"Damn your soul to hell, magician." Rage lanced through Gareth, hot and fierce. He moved to follow Lucretius and Clare.
"My lord, wait." William caught hold of Gareth's arm.
"Go back inside the hall." The damned magician was already disappearing into the smoke, Gareth realized.
"But there is something I must tell you before you go after the magician," William hissed softly. "Clare put mugwort inside the pouch. Sir Lucretius will soon begin to sneeze uncontrollably. His eyes will water and he will be rendered helpless."
Gareth looked down at William. "Are you certain?"
"Aye, my lord. He has a terrible reaction to mugwort. I saw what happened when Clare once gave him a pomander that was filled with it. He accused her of trying to poison him."
"Go back inside the hall and wait until Sir Ulrich tells you to open the door."
"Aye, my lord." William hesitated. "You will fetch Clare back, will you not?"
"Aye." He looked at Dalian. "Come with me, Squire."
Dalian turned a stark face to him. "He will kill her, my lord."
"Nay. We will rescue her. It is the magician who will not survive this night."
He strode toward the gate and called to one of the men-at-arms to open it.
Ulrich hailed him through the smoke. "We have the magician's knights, my lord."
"Lock them up until I return."
"But where are you going?"
"To hunt a magician."
Once outside the gate, Gareth discovered that an eerie silence now gripped the isle. The chill of dawn had caused the fog to thicken measurably.
The gray mist glowed with the pale light of morning. Unfortunately, that pearly luminescence only served to veil the landscape more completely. Attempting to see through the fog was akin to peering into the smoked crystal stone in the pommel of his sword, Gareth thought. There was light there, but it fooled the eye and obscured the depths.
"What are we going to do?" Dalian asked in a whisper.
"I believe he will head for the first of the small coves. He will seek the small boat that he hid there."
Dalian glanced at Gareth, startled. "You found a boat in one of the caves?"
"Aye. I gave orders that the caves were to be searched every few hours.
One of the men discovered a vessel concealed there a short while ago."
"The magician's boat?"
"No doubt. The bowmen were merely a distraction. He never intended to meet up with them or to leave by way of the harbor." Gareth glanced around, searching for familiar landmarks in the fog.
Through the mist he spotted the shape of one of the outbuildings. "That way. Henceforth, say nothing. Walk as silently as you can."
Dalian nodded.
Gareth led the way across the mist-shrouded field. When the outbuilding faded into the fog, he used the sound of the waves as a guide.
He and Dalian had not gone more than twenty paces when they heard the first great sneeze. It came from up ahead and off to the left.
Dalian looked at Gareth, his eyes widening with realization.
Gareth smiled. My sweet, clever Clare. You have snared the magician for me. Now all I have to do is wait for the right moment to kill him.
The second sneeze was accompanied by a raging curse.
"Goddamn this isle and all your obnoxious perfumes, Clare. There must be a field of mugwort nearby."
"Release me, sir," Clare commanded. "You do not need me any longer."
"Hush. Do not speak again. That damned Hellhound is no doubt following us." Lucretius broke off to sneeze.
Gareth used the sound to guide himself closer to his quarry. He motioned Dalian to stay behind him.
They were very near the edge of the cliffs now. Gareth could hear the echo of the waves in the cove.
He heard Clare cry out softly as she stumbled over some object.
"The boat is hidden in the cave down below," Lucretius muttered. "You will go down the cliff path ahead of me. There is no place to run, so don't even think of doing so.
Go. I will be right behind you?"
The magician's words were cut off by a swift series of loud, convulsive sneezes. He swore again, violently. And sneezed again.
The sound of a brief scuffle ensued.
"Nay," Clare said. "I'll not go with you."
"Come back here, you stupid wench. I will kill you with my magic if you do not return to me." Another sneezing fit overcame Lucretius. "What is this?" he gasped. "What have you done to me? Damn you, 'tis the book."
Something heavy fell to earth. Gareth knew that it was the leather pouch Lucretius had slung across his body. The magician had thrown it down onto the ground in rage.
"You have tried to poison me," Lucretius screamed. "I'll kill you for this, just as I killed your father."
"Leave," Clare cried. "Flee while you still can, magician. If my husband finds you, he will surely destroy you."
Gareth saw the flash of Clare's gown in the fog. A new fear seized him.
He realized that Clare could not see any more clearly than he could. If she chanced to lose her bearings, she might fall into the sea.
"Clare, this way," he shouted. "Do not run toward the cliffs. Run to me."
Footsteps thudded softly in the moist ground. Clare appeared out of the mist. She ran blindly toward the sound of his voice. Then she saw him.
"Gareth."
"Stay with Dalian." Gareth raised his sword and went past her.
He nearly stumbled over the leather pouch that was lying on the ground.
The book had fallen out.
Dried flowers were scattered about. The familiar scent of mugwort was strong.
Another loud sneeze made Gareth whirl to the left. Lucretius stood in the swirling gray mist. His black cloak was thrown back behind his shoulders, revealing his mail hauberk.
"So you think that you are a more clever magician than I, Hellhound?"
Gareth did not answer. He paced toward Lucretius.
"Stay back." Lucretius held his sword ready for battle with one hand.
With his other, he reached into the folds of his cape and withdrew an object the size of a cup. "I can throw the contents of this vial farther than you can reach with a sword, Hellhound."
Gareth glanced at the large vial. It was filled with a green-tinged potion that he did not recognize. "Do you think I fear whatever you have in that jar?"