He looked quickly behind him and saw the irregular lumps of the dead hairless ones lying in a ragged row. The hairless ones and the other things as well — the spitting fury that he had sliced in two, the squawling thing that Tiny had torn apart, and perhaps there were others of them, too.
He passed between two of the standing stones, Daniel pacing at his side, and as he stepped between them, the grass beneath his feet turned from unkempt meadow grass to a well-kept, pampered velvet lawn.
Startled, he looked up and gasped at what he saw. The castle mound was gone. In its place stood a splendid castle, a building out of fairyland, brand new and shining, stone steps leading up to a great front entrance that was agleam with candlelight and with lights showing as well in some of the many windows.
The griffin stood humped upon the lawn in front of him and Diane, in her leather breeches and her leather jacket, her hair a golden glory in the fading light from out the west, still carrying the gory battle axe, was walking across the lawn toward him.
She stopped a few feet from him and made a little curtsy.
“Welcome,” she said, “to the Castle of the Wizards.”
All the rest of them were there, standing on the sweep of immaculate lawn, their heads tilted up to stare at the castle, all of them, more than likely, as puzzled as he was.
He still was carrying the naked sword in his fist, and he lifted it, unthinking, to place it in the scabbard, but Diane made a motion to stop him.
“Not,” she said, “until you wipe it clean. Here.” One hand went to her throat and pulled free the white stock that she wore.
“Use this,” she said, holding it out to him.
“But I would not want to…”
“Go ahead,” she said. “I have plenty of others. This is an old one, anyhow.”
“I could manage with some grass.”
She shook her head and he took from her the length of fabric. It was fine of weave and silky to the touch.
“With your permission, ma’am,” he said.
Carefully he wiped and polished the blade until there was not a fleck upon it.
“Give the rag to me,” she said. Hesitantly, he handed the stained piece of cloth to her and she, in turn, used it to clean the battle axe.
“It was good sport,” she said. “Good hunting.”
He shrugged in bewilderment. “Yes, it turned out that way. We were in a bad way for a time, until you and the Huntsman showed up. Tell me, what has the Huntsman to do with all of this? For that matter, what have you? And this castle…”
“I’ve told you,” she said. “This is the Castle of the Wizards. Once you pass the magic circle you stand on enchanted ground.”
Conrad came limping up, followed by Tiny.
“What happened to you?” asked Duncan.
Conrad swung slowly around to show the bloody gash that ran from thigh to knee. “Something raked me. I think that thing, whatever it was, that Tiny tore apart. But you are all right, m’lord.”
“Knocked down by a griffin’s wing, that’s all.”
He put his hand up to his forehead and it came away sticky with clotting blood.
“I’m sorry about that,” said Diane. “At times Hubert tends to get a little awkward. But it’s really not his fault. He is so old, you know.” She said to Conrad, “You better had come in. That gash …”
“It will heal,” said Conrad. “I have taken worse.”
“There could be poison in it. There are unguents that will take care of that. I’m well schooled in salves and potions.”
“My thanks,” said Conrad, trying to be courtly, but not quite making it.
Glancing back at the circle of standing stones, Duncan saw that now they were all in place and correctly seated.
Now there was no cant to them. Lying squarely on top of them, in their proper places, were the lintel stones. All the stones, the lintels and the standing ones, were new and white, shining faintly in the fading light, as if they had been carved only yesterday.
“I don’t understand,” he said to Diane. “The stones all standing, the castle new and shining, this lawn, the stone benches on the lawn, the shrubs and trees, the little pools, the paths, all so neatly landscaped.”
“It is an enchanted place,” she said. “A special place. Outside the magic circle it all seems a ruin, as it rightly should be, for it was raised many centuries ago. But once inside the circle it is as it always has been since the day it was created. Here time and the ravages of time are held at bay. At one time many powerful wizards lived here and they possessed great secrets. They could hold the world and time at arm’s length. They could…”
“At one time, you said. And now?”
“Now one wizard still lives here. He is the last of them.”
He started to ask another question, but clamped shut his mouth before the words came out.
She laughed a merry laugh at him. “You were about to ask about myself.”
“I have no right, milady.”
“I don’t mind telling you. I have wizard blood.”
“You a wizard?”
She shook her head. “No. I have tried to be. I wanted to be. I have found I’m not. Wulfert. You remember that I asked of Wulfert.”
“Yes, I do remember.”
She said, “Wulfert was my great-grandfather. But we stand here talking when we should be going in. Your big comrade needs something on that wound. And there may be other injuries. You have a scratch upon your head. All of you, I suppose, are half starved.”
Conrad brightened visibly. “I could do with food,” he said. “And a little drink should you have it. Fighting’s thirsty work.”
“You must excuse him,” Duncan said. “He has no shame at all.”
“We have no staff,” said Diane. “Not a single servant. There was a day when the castle did have servants everywhere, when there were people here who might have need of servants. But now there really is little need of them and it is hard to find the kind of faithful servitors that one would want. There is not a great deal to do. The preparation of food, the making of beds, such small chores as that. The enchantment takes care of all the rest.”
“In a rough fashion, milady,” said Conrad, “m’lord and I can cook, and I suppose old Meg as well. The hermit I don’t know about. At best he is a simple soul.”
“Well, get along,” said Diane. “The larder is well stocked. It always is well stocked. We’ll not go hungry.”
With Duncan on one side of her, Conrad on the other, she led the way toward the long flight of broad, wide steps that went up to the castle’s entrance. Meg fell in behind them.
“We’ll find meat for the dog,” said Diane. “The lawn will provide good pasturage for the horse and burro.”
“We thank you, milady,” Duncan said. “Your hospitality is above and beyond all courtesy. What you did in helping us today…”
“The help was mutual,” she said. “You did as much for us as I and Hubert did for you. You lured the Evil out and struck a mighty blow against them. You made them smart. Cuthbert will be pleased. It is something he would have done himself had he not been so old and feeble and so very much alone. You see, I am the only one he has. All his old comrades are gone.”
“Cuthbert?”
“He is the wizard that I spoke of. The last of a mighty band of wizards. But now all the rest are gone and he has lost much of his former power because of the loss of his companions, although he would deny that should it be mentioned.
I am very careful not to mention it.”
“You say he is old and sick. I did not know…”
“Wizards are not supernatural beings,” said Diane. “Certainly you know that. They are merely men of great knowledge in certain arcane subjects and therefore able to accomplish many wondrous things, but they are not immune to the common ills and woes of mankind. I had meant to come back to the church and village where we first met, but when I returned I found Cuthbert very ill and have remained here since, nursing him.”