“And, of course, you were trying to be her champion, and laying down the law.” Rod ignored the danger signals. “Which you had no right to do—at the time. Still don’t, really.”
“Have I not?” Tuan snapped, whirling to face Rod. “I am now King!”
“Which means that you’re supposed to be foremost among your peers. It doesn’t make you a superior breed—and doesn’t give you the right to make laws if your barons are against them.”
“You cannot truly believe that I would do so.”
“Well, no, not you,” Rod admitted. “Catharine, however…”
“Rarely is the Queen not swayed by my counsel,” Tuan grated. “What we do, we do in concert.”
“Then you both agree on marching south to fight the beastmen?”
Tuan managed to stay with the change of topic. “We have discussed it; and, aye, we are agreed. I do not say we take joy in the prospect.”
“Well, say it,” Rod invited. “Or are you really going to tell me you don’t like being out in the field again?”
Tuan stared, taken aback. Then he grinned sheepishly. “In truth, my heart doth lift as I gaze upon open fields and feel harness on my back. I will own, ‘tis good to be out from chambers and councils.’‘
Rod nodded. “That’s what I expected; you’re a born general. Still can’t understand how you manage to be a good king, too.”
Tuan shrugged impatiently. “ ‘Tis like to the order of battle, save that the ’troops’ one doth command are reeves and bailiffs.”
“But it does require a totally different library of knowledge.”
“That, Catharine hath,” Tuan said very honestly. “I need only to steady her judgment, and issue her commands in such wise that they shall not arouse rebellion.”
Which was true, Rod reflected; half of the offense Catharine gave was due to the way she said things, rather than what she said. “Well, you’ve just earned my respect again.”
Tuan frowned. “For what? For kingship?”
“No, for candor. But now the burden of monarchy moves back into your field of knowledge, Majesty. What do you propose to do about these raiders?”
“Go to where they have been, expecting that they will strike again, and not far from where they struck first,” Tuan answered. “When the bee findeth a flower filled with nectar, doth he not return to that place to find other flowers nearby?”
“Yes, and usually with more bees. I notice you brought a few stingers of your own.”
Tuan glanced back at the army behind him. “The beastmen should be hard put to best these stout hearts.”
“From the report I had, it’s not their hearts that’re in danger.” Rod turned Fess, falling in alongside Tuan. The King kicked his heels into his horse’s ribs, and the column began to move south again. Tuan nodded. “Thou dost speak of the Evil Eye.”
“I doth,” Rod agreed. “How much faith do you put in that part of the report?”
Tuan shrugged. “ ‘Tis wisest to believe it true, and guard against it as best we may.” He pinned Rod with a stare. “What charm is there against it?”
Rod shrugged. “Beats me; I’ve never run into it before. Haven’t the slightest idea how it works. For all I know, they might just be so ugly that you freeze in horror when you look at ‘em.”
Tuan shook his head firmly. “Nay. If the report is true, ‘tis magic, not simple fear.”
“Well, ‘disgust’ was more of what I had in mind. And, of course, the report itself might not be too accurate. Who’d it come from, anyway?”
“Mothers and grand-folk who were fleeing as they saw. And three of the footmen still live, though with grievous wounds; they have not spoken much, but what little they have said confirms the report, that ‘twas the Eye that froze them.”
“Not exactly ideal spying conditions, in either case,” Rod mused, “and not enough information to work up anything to counter it. Still, it does seem that they have to look you in the eye to freeze you; so pass the word to look at their hands, their hats, their teeth—anything but their eyes.”
“Well, ‘tis better than naught,” Tuan sighed. “But I would thou couldst find a better remedy, Lord Warlock. A soldier is hard put to avoid his enemy’s eyes, in the melee.”
“Well, it’s the best I can do, for the moment,” Rod grumped. “I’ll try to get some firsthand experience if they attack again. Then maybe I…”
“Nay.” Tuan drew up sharply and looked Rod in the eye. “Thou must learn this to thy sorrow, Lord Gallowglass, as I have had to: thou art now of too great worth to be risked in the melee. Thou must needs stand apart, with me, on high ground, to aid in the directing of the battle.”
With a sinking heart, Rod knew Tuan was right; an army did fight better when it had overall direction. “Your Majesty is of course always right. I’ll stay out of it as long as you do.”
Tuan eyed him skeptically. “Do not think that will aid thee. I have gained in patience.‘’
He wasn’t doing so badly in perceptiveness, either; three years ago, he would’ve missed the sarcasm. “All of this assumes, however, that we have time to pick our ground before the fighting starts.”
“Ah.” Tuan turned back to the south and began riding again. “That is thy part.”
“Oh?” Rod eyed him warily. “Am I supposed to magically transport this whole army to the ground you choose?”
“Nay. Thou’rt to secure us warning that raiders come, far enough in advance that we may ride to the place they will attack, and be there before them.”
“Oh.” Rod’s lips held the shape of the letter after it was gone. “That’s all I’ve got to do, huh? Mind telling me how? Am I supposed to set sentries pacing a mile offshore?”
“Aye, if thou canst derive a spell that will prevent them from sinking.”
“Oh, nothing easier! It’s called ‘rowboats.’ ” Rod frowned. “Hold on, now. That almost sounds sensible.”
“Aye, it doth.” Tuan turned to him. “A line of sentries in small craft just beyond the horizon, to watch for a mast. But how will they sound the alarm?”
“They could row.”
“The beastmen will row more quickly; there do be more of them, and they will be aided by wind. Would they not overtake thy sentry and slay him?”
“True.” Rod frowned. “Well, how about if the sentry was a warlock? Then he could telep… uh, conjure himself ashore, and leave them an empty rowboat.”
“A likely thought.” Tuan nodded. “But thy warlocks hear thoughts. Could not he raise the alarm more quickly if there were another of the witch-folk ashore, listening for his thoughts?”
“True. That would be quicker, and… wait a minute!” Rod struck his forehead with the heel of his hand. “What’s the matter with me? Sorry, Your Majesty; I’m slow today. Why bother putting the warlock in the boat? Why not just have him stay ashore and listen for approaching beastman thoughts?”
“Nay, certes!” Tuan squeezed his eyes shut. “Did I truly need a High Warlock to tell me this? Where are my wits?”
There was a good chance he’d left them back at the royal castle in Runnymede, but Rod didn’t think it was politic to say so. Besides, Tuan could’ve replied that Rod’s brains currently had long red hair and a figure worth killing for.
Then the King opened his eyes, with doubt in them. “Yet art thou certain they do think?”
“That is a distinct possibility. Maybe if I go to the western coast and shout, ‘Cogito, ergo sum,’ they’ll all disappear.”
“Is that a mighty spell?”
“No, just wishful thinking; I’m putting Descartes before the horse.” There was a short, nasty buzzing in Rod’s ear; Fess didn’t think much of his sense of humor. “Seriously, though, Your Majesty, that shouldn’t be a problem. Anything alive and moving under its own power has some sort of neurological activity. I’ve got one young witch who can read an earthworm’s thoughts, and they don’t even have any.”
“But can they hear thoughts far enough away to give us time to set our battle line where they mean to land?”