She moaned, turned over, and opened her eyes, seeing me. “Hi,” she muttered weakly.
“Hi, yourself,” I responded, not bothering to hide my big grin. “You know where you are?”
She groaned and tried to sit up, failed the first time, then managed it. “Sort of,” she told me. “It was—kinda like a crazy dream. I was sound asleep, and I knew I was sound asleep, but I could hear stuff when there was stuff to hear and see stuff when my eyes were open. It was all dreamy like, though, not real.” She hesitated a second, looking puzzled and serious. “But it was real, wasn’t it, Cal ? All of it? That creepy doctor, that horrible room, you rescuing me, Father Bronz, witches—they really are witches, aren’t they, Cal?”
I nodded. “Sort of. At least they think they are.”
She stared at me with the kind of expression I had never seen anyone give me before. “You could’ve got out real easy, but you took me,” she whispered, low and almost to herself. Her voice broke slightly and she said, “Oh, Cal, hold me! Hug me! Please!”
I went to her and gently squeezed, but she grabbed on to me and hugged and kissed me as hard and strong as she could. Finally she gasped and I saw tears in her eyes. “I love you, Cal,” she almost sobbed, and hugged me again.
I looked at her strangely for a moment, not quite comprehending her actions nor my reactions. “I—I love you top, my little Ti,” I replied, then held her close and hugged her, a sense of wonder and amazement coming over me at the realization that, incredibly, what I’d just said was true.
The village seemed deserted. I could see only the smoking remains of the fire and an empty gourd-pot. Not a sign of life, although all around I could hear the ever-present insect chorus.
And then the sound stopped.
It was eerie, incredible. For a moment I thought I had gone deaf, so absolute was the silence in contrast with what I was used to. Not a sound, not a whisper. Even the wind had stopped.
Suddenly, from all around came the sound of incredibly loud, piercing screeches, and a sudden wind whipped the trees from all over. I remained in the hut, conscious that I could do no more, but I was damned well going to see what I could see. Ti, although still very weak, was equally determined once the situation was explained to her, and when I objected to her nearness to the doorway she objected to my being too exposed. I surrendered and we both watched, cautiously.
The besils rose effortlessly from cover a hundred meters or so from the witch village. Although I couldn’t see anything in back of me, I was aware from how they were deployed that they must have the place encircled.
I marveled at how the creatures seemed to rise incredibly smoothly as if on some invisible hoist, then hover there, nearly motionless, about twenty meters up, just beyond the treetops.
One besil glided slowly out of the formation and approached the center of the village, almost over the caldron, then descended to a point only four or five meters above the ground. I was marveling at how effortlessly the creature moved, but then the rider drew my attention.
“Artur,” I heard Ti gasp. And in fact it was the Sergeant at Arms of Zeis Keep, his icy power radiating like a living thing.
“Witches!” he shouted gruffly. “I wish to speak with your leader! We have no need to do battle here today!”
Suddenly, as if popping up from nowhere, Sumiko O’Higgins stood there in full robes and regalia, facing him. I had no idea how she got there without being seen.
“Speak, armsman!” she called back. “Speak and begone! You have no right or business here!”
Artur laughed evilly, although I could tell he was slightly disconcerted by her sudden appearance and defiant tone. “Right? Might makes right, madam, as well you know. You and your colony exist here at the sufferance of the Grand Duke because you do us occasional service, but it is for that reason alone that I might spare you. You err, too, madam, in saying I have no business here. No less than my Lord Marek Kreegan has charged me to return with Cal Tremon, the fugitive who is now in your charge. Surrender him to me and we will depart in peace. All will be as it has been.”
“Just Tremon? You don’t wish the girl as well?” the witch queen responded, and I had a sudden queasy feeling that she was striking a deal to her liking but definitely not to mine.
Artur laughed again. “Keep the girl if you wish,” he responded airily. “We will even make certain she is fully restored. It is Tremon we must have, and it is Tremon we will have.”
“I don’t like your tone, armsman,” O’Higgins responded. “You are so used to wielding absolute power that your arrogance will be your undoing. We do not exist here at the sufferance of Grand Duke Kob6 or anyone else. Marek Kreegan is your Lord, but mine is Satan Mafkrieg, Prince of Darkness, King of the Underworld, and no other.”
He ignored the commentary, but I heard Ti mutter under her breath, “Atta girl, witchie! Give him a taste of his own big mouth!”
Artur shrugged, looking very formidable and splendid on his great black beast. “I take it, then, that you will not voluntarily surrender the fugitive?”
“I have no love for him,” the witch responded, “but I have far less for you and your masters. If you attack, you will be utterly and completely destroyed. The choice is yours.”
Artur just glared at her a moment. Then with an almost imperceptible nudge of the big man’s foot, the besil floated back to its place in the waiting formation. Sumiko O’Higgins just stood there, and while I marveled at her courage I thought she had acted in a pretty stupid fashion, all things considered.
Suddenly, as mysteriously as Sumiko had appeared, the rest of the witches were all there, spread out in an almost unbroken circle around the perimeter of the village, facing outward toward the attackers. None appeared to have any weapons.
Artur gave a hand gesture, and the two besils on either side of him glided forward, there riders aiming pretty nasty-looking fixed crossbows, like artillery pieces, mounted in front of them on there saddles. All four, by their positioning, fixed on Sumiko O’Higgins as they closed in, then fired almost in unison, the arrows flying with enormous force toward the black-garbed figure below.
I started to cry out, but instantly the witch queen waved her hand idly and all four arrows landed in the grass, neatly framing her. Then suddenly every third or fourth woman in the long human circle turned inward, and O’Higgins gestured again with her right arm at the four soldiers.
What followed was incredible. Although the men were bound in by thick, secure straps, they were hurled from their saddles as if plucked by a giant hand, then dashed to the ground below with a force far in excess of gravity. None of them moved.
Artur roared in anger, and the other soldiers closed in and started letting loose their terrible arsenal—spears, arrows, and all sorts of other stuff rapidly flew back and forth across the field—taking point-blank aim at the circle of women. An incredible hail of lethal stuff rained down upon the witches.
It all missed.
Now Sumiko was gesturing again, making some sort of symbol with her hands. Besils screamed, and several dropped out of the sky like stones, crashing to earth and taking their riders with them.
I was beginning to admit that the woman had something here.
Artur was fit to be tied, of course, but he gestured for his troops to regroup. It had occurred to him, as it had to me, that nothing nasty happened to you unless you broke that circle of human bodies, and he was reorganizing to meet that fact.