Allouette’s trembling lessened.
“Besides, we could not leave it loose to gobble cattle and smash the peasant folk,” Gregory said with practicality, “and this was more merciful than slaying her with swords or horses’ hooves.”
“That is so.” Allouette smiled up at him, tears drying on her cheeks. “Praise Heaven I have you to console me!”
He beamed and lowered his head a little more, to kiss her.
They went on their way, their horses side by side so that they could ride hand in hand. Inwardly, Gregory exulted that Allouette’s heart had softened so much that she could weep for an enemy she had vanquished, even one so hideous and bloodthirsty as an ogre.
Scarcely an hour later, though, they encountered a peasant family, pacing beside an oxcart loaded with their household goods, their faces grim and grief-stricken.
Allouette reined in. “Hold, good people! Wherefore do you flee your home?”
“Why, because three ogres have come upon us, lady,” the woman said, and dabbed at reddened eyes with her sleeve. “They have feasted on our cow, and we have no wish to follow her down their gullets.”
“Heaven forbid,” Gregory said.
“Heaven grant they have not gone ahead of us!” the husband returned.
“Be easy in that,” Allouette told him. “Two of them have indeed gone before you, but they are slain.”
“Slain!” Husband and wife exchanged a glance, and the children stared wide-eyed at the fine lady. Then the wife turned back to Allouette and stammered, “But how? Such great grisly things as those—who could dispatch them?”
“Is there some knight-errant who has come to slay them?” the husband asked. “But what weapon could dispatch such monsters?”
“Magic,” Gregory answered, “and its wielder was no knight, but a witch.”
“A witch!” The family shrank together, the mother’s arms going instinctively around her children.
“Peace, peace,” Allouette said, smiling. “She is a good witch, not an evil one, as you may see by her dispatching such villainous creatures as these. Moreover, she goes her way; you will certainly not encounter her ahead on the trail.”
“If . . . if you say so, lady.” The husband moved a little away from his family. “You have seen her, then?”
“She has come within my glance,” Allouette admitted.
“Well, if you should see her again, give her our thanks,” said the husband.
“Aye!” said the wife. “She may have slain them, but she has most likely saved our lives!”
Allouette stared at her, then looked up to find Gregory’s gaze on her, glowing. She blushed and looked down again. “I rejoice to hear it. Go your ways, now, with no fear of either ogre or witch.”
“But what of the third monster?” the wife asked. “We dare not go back to our cottage!”
“Where is this third one now?” Gregory asked.
“We only know that we saw it near our cottage,” the father said.
“That is some help, at least,” Allouette said. “Where did they come from?”
The parents spread their hands and shook their heads, at a loss, but one of the little girls piped up, “I saw them!”
“Hush, Essie!” the biggest boy hissed.
Essie rounded on him. “If Mama and Papa told us never to go there, Chogie, it was surely not because they feared ogres!”
“How is this?” the mother asked, frowning.
Essie looked up in alarm, then tucked her chin in truculently, hands locked behind her back. “We only went because the gooseberries are so much bigger and more juicy there.”
“As well they might be, where the river overflows in nearly every rainstorm! I will not have you tracking mud all over the cottage!”
“We cleaned the mud off before we came home,” Chogie muttered.
“Even so—” Mama began, but Allouette interrupted her.
“By your leave, good woman,” she said, holding up a hand, “may we hear their tale? If there is a third ogre near, we must know whence it came, or we may find ourselves beset by more of the creatures.”
The whole family looked up, wide-eyed and shocked at the thought.
“Perhaps you would indeed do well to repair to your lord’s castle,” Gregory said, “as you no doubt meant to. There will be time to come home when he tells you that the ogres have gone.”
“If they leave our cottage standing,” the wife said, tears in her eyes.
The husband put his arm around her. “There, now, even if they do not, three friends and I can build it anew in a fortnight—but what reason could ogres have to smash a cottage?”
“What reason have they for anything they do?” the wife moaned.
“Hunger,” Allouette said. “I do not doubt they were simply hunting and foraging.” She turned to the children. “So you went down by the river for gooseberries. What did you see?”
“Mist,” Chogie said. “There is always some mist over the river in the morning, but this was much more thick and dense.”
“And high,” Essie added. “It was not plumes lifting, but a cliff of fog rising up to mask the sun.”
“When all else was bright with sunlight?” Gregory asked.
The girl nodded. “A wall of mist, it was! And the ogres came out of it, all three.”
“The gooseberry bush was between us and them,” Chogie explained. “We crouched down and held our breaths.”
“We were too frightened to breathe,” Essie added.
“I was not frightened,” Chogie said quickly.
“Oh, really!” Essie turned on him again. “Why then were you shaking in every limb?”
Chogie reddened and opened his mouth for a blistering retort, but Allouette quickly said, “Did you stay still till they had gone out of sight?”
“Yes, lady.” Chogie turned back to her.
“And saw only three ogres come?”
Chogie nodded.
“Then we ran home and told Mama and Papa,” Essie explained.
“Was the fog still there when you left?” Gregory asked.
“No.” Chogie frowned, puzzled. “We looked back from the top of the slope, and the mist had thinned and lifted.”
“Mist always burns off in the morning,” Essie said condescendingly.
Chogie reddened. “Not so quickly! Not when it was so thick!”
“Yes, that is odd,” Allouette said, frowning. “Was that only this morning?”
The children nodded. “Then Papa came home to tell us he had seen an ogre shambling across the field,” Essie said, “so we took what we most needed to the cart.”
“Wisely done,” Gregory said.
Allouette turned to him. “Like enough, then, there is only the one left.”
“It would seem so,” Gregory said. “Still, let us be watchful.”
Allouette nodded, then turned back to the family. “Thanks for this news, goodfolk. Go to your lord’s castle, then. But be watchful—the third ogre might still be on the road.”
“No, lady,” the wife said. “We looked back at the turn and saw it breaking a tree.”
Gregory and Allouette exchanged glances; Gregory nodded. “After it, then.” He touched his heels to his horse’s flanks.
“Beware!” the wife cried. “You are riding straight toward the monster!”
“We are indeed,” Allouette assured her.
“Had you some thought of going onward?” the husband asked in alarm. “Oh, if you do, gentleman and damsel, do not, I pray you!”
“Have no fear for us,” Allouette said, touched. “The witch who dispatched the first two shall surely be equal to the third.”
“Has she ridden past us, then?” the wife asked, horrified, and Essie and Chogie looked over their shoulders in fright.
“Do not fear,” Allouette told them. “She rides past you even now.”
“Where?” The husband and the wife looked about them frantically.
But Essie and Chogie stared up at Allouette, eyes round as saucers, and Essie raised a trembling finger to point at her. “There!”