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"Are you a witch, too?"  Moraga asked.  "I am," Quicksilver admitted.

"You scarce have need of it, if you can fight as well as a man!"

Quicksilver smiled gently.  "God does not ask if we need these strange powers of mind, damsel, nor if we want them—He gives them to us at birth, to cope with as we may.  For myself, I would rather use force of arms."

"Is it for that reason you have become an outlaw?"  Quicksilver smiled.  "Nay—all I wished to be was a wife and mother, even as my mother was."  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Geoffrey look up, suddenly intent, and smiled with glee inside—but went right on talking to Moraga.  "I turned outlaw because a lord sought to force me, and I would not submit to him."

"Why, even as was done to me!  Though I was beguiled, not..."  Moraga glanced up at the boys, then quickly away.

"Was there none to teach you the use of your powers?"  Quicksilver asked gently.

"Nay—and I thought I was some sort of monster, foredoomed and foredamned, so I kept my powers secret all my days."

Quicksilver nodded.  "It was thus for me, too.  And I was paid for my discretion with my neighbors' friendship."

"Well, with their companionship, at least," Moraga said bitterly, "though 'twas companionship heavily seasoned with condescension, for I am no beauty."

Quicksilver's smile was brittle.  "Had they accorded you the place of future spinster, then?"

"Aye, for no lad showed any interest in me.  I lived with my parents till they died, then eked out a meager living by spinning."

"A spinster indeed," Quicksilver murmured.  "Aye—though I had learned something of herb-lore, and moreover, had made use of my powers to aid healing, and my neighbors became friendly indeed when I began to cure their ills.  Then I caught the eye of Sir Gripardin, the knight on whose land our village stood."  Her face hardened.  "I knew it not, but he had learned that I was a witch—a poacher had espied my practice at moving things by thought, when I had thought myself hidden in the forest, and had sold me out when he was caught and brought before Sir Gripardin.  That, and my healing, gave him all he needed to know.  He feigned love for me, though he never quite spoke the word, or truly said the word 'marriage,' either.  At first, I thought only that he meant to practice the droit de seigneur on one who had no lover, husband, or parent to protect her, and prepared to sell my virtue dearly—but I was quite undone by sweet words of flattery and made no demur when he invited me to his bed.  He used me with gentleness and tenderness, and I was so overcome with love that I never thought to question when he asked me to brew up potions by the hundredweight.  I knew he sold them for gold, and was thrilled to think that, together, we might become rich—but 'twas he who gained riches, then spurned me from his bed, for he had no further use for me, nor need to cozen an ugly wench.  Nay, he sent me packing home, penniless and covered with shame, to endure the jibes and taunts of they whom I had thought to be my friends."

Her voice caught on a sob, and Quicksilver embraced her impulsively.  "Why, what a rogue was he!  No matter what you did to him, he deserved far worse!  And your neighbors deserved small credit, either!"

Moraga nodded, swallowing tears.  "I was now shunned by those I had thought to be my friends, because I stood revealed as a witch, and a fallen woman."

Gregory nodded gravely.  "Those who had looked upon you with comfortable condescension now feared you."

"And Count Nadyr gave you no justice?"  Geoffrey demanded.

"Justice for a witch?"  Moraga said, with a bitter smile.  "Surely you jest!  Oh, I appealed to him for redress, but he supported his knight and turned me away.  In anger, I turned to revenge.  I began by tormenting Sir Gripardin with supposed haunting, and by stealing his gold from his strong room when he was gone from his manor house—for I had learned well how to make things move by thought alone, I assure you."

"I have had experience of that," Geoffrey acknowledged.  "You have."

"You impoverished him, then," Geoffrey inferred.

"No more than he deserved," Quicksilver said, thinlipped.

"Did he not seek to move against you?"  Geoffrey demanded.

Moraga smiled with vindictive satisfaction.  "He tried to have the shire-reeve arrest me, but I defeated both himself and his constables.  His men rejoiced, for they had hated his service, and swore themselves to mine."

"'Twas then you began to think of ruling the parish," Gregory said.

"Indeed I did!  Now it was I who sent the false knight packing, and the shire-reeve too, with his own men.  I confess I lorded it over those who had treated me first with condescension, then with rebuke—and, oh, my vengeance tasted sweet!"

"I trust you did not abuse them truly," Quicksilver said, frowning.

"No.  Oh, I repaid their insults and jibes with my own, but I lightened their taxes, and was still quick to heal the sick, of course."

"Of course," Gregory said, in tones of wonder.  Geoffrey glanced at him in concern, but Little Brother's face was all bland calmness.

"Did you sell charms to those who sought them?"  Quicksilver asked, remembering the wise woman of her own village.

"Nay, I gave them—but first I gave counsel to those who came for charms.  Mocking or not, healing or not, I made it very clear to everyone that it was now I who ruled them."

"Count Nadyr could not long abide such a challenge to his authority," Geoffrey said, frowning.

"He did not," Moraga confirmed.  "He sent three knights with a dozen men against me—and at their forefront rode Sir Gripardin.  I overthrew them all, making the ground turn to mire beneath them, then into a pit, and as they fell, plucked each man's helmet from his head and struck him senseless with a flying rock."  She smiled with a vindictive satisfaction that made Geoffrey's blood run cold.  "But he who had used and misused me, I burst the buckles on his armor, shelled him quite, and summoned quarterstaves to beat him until he dropped, senseless.  Then I pulled each of them from the pit, closed it up again, and watched them ride home, chastened."

Geoffrey nodded gravely, thinking meanwhile that this woman was a very strong telekinetic indeed, if she had really done all she had described.

Really, Fess's voice reminded him in family thought mode, and Geoffrey felt a little better.  Yes, she could have been making it all up—smart tactics, in her current position.  Come to that, he really hadn't seen any of the army she claimed to have recruited.  He wondered if any of the people she governed had seen it.

"Did you then lay claim to the county?"  Quicksilver asked.

"Nay, only to the parishes that adjoined mine."

"Only half the county, then," Geoffrey interpreted.  Moraga tilted her chin up and shrugged.  "They had declared me outlaw, and I had risen above it to the status of a rebel.  I saw that if I were going to do it at all, I might as well do it openly."

"And you set up rule?"  Geoffrey asked.

"I did.  I appointed a woman to be mayor over each village, and made it clear to all that she had no choice in the matter—she was to administer the village as I told her, or suffer the consequences of my wrath.  All had husbands and children; none of the village folk questioned why they did as I bade them."

"Well, yes—but do none wonder why your mayors do not seem to go in fear and trembling?"  Quicksilver asked.  Moraga turned to her with a slow smile.  "Perhaps they do.  Who will question it?"

"'Tis well done," Gregory said judiciously.  "You protect your lieutenants from blame or charge if you fail, yet ensure their loyalty if you succeed."