He sounded, Quicksilver thought, like a procurer, trying to persuade a giddy, restless country girl to go to the city, where he could have his wicked way with her and enslave her to his purposes.
"The thought is tempting," Moraga said slowly, "but I tell you frankly that I do not trust either you two young dandies, nor the Crown. What assurance have I that I will not be clapped into prison?"
"Chiefly," said Gregory, "that the prison has never been invented that can hold a witch of your power for long."
"How, then," asked Moraga, "do you deal with evil witches who will not amend their ways?"
"With death," Gregory told her, his gaze level, and Quicksilver shuddered.
"'Tis true," Gregory admitted, "though we have found very few who would not yield to clemency, and the Queen's promise."
"You would have to stand trial," Gregory informed her, "but you have slain no one yet, and your conquests can be overlooked, if you undo them. By your own testimony, none of those who have served you will suffer, for you have been careful to take all the blame to yourself."
"Indeed," said Moraga, with a thin though wary smile. "But I think that I have shown you that I am not a witch to be trifled with."
"That is true," Gregory allowed, "but you prevailed so long because we wished to arrest you, not slay you."
"Oh, did I really! And if you despaired of capturing me, how would you kill me?"
"Oh, probably like that." Gregory pointed to a tree, and it exploded. Splinters rained to the ground.
Quicksilver stared at the growing heap of tinder, shaken to her core, then glanced at Geoffrey, and was glad to see that he seemed shaken, too. "Brother," he said, "Father told you not to toy about with nuclear fission like that."
"I have learned to control it most excellently, I assure you," Gregory said with a shrug. "I split only a few atoms in the center of the trunk."
"What are they talking about?" Moraga demanded of Quicksilver.
"I know not," Quicksilver said nervously, "but if they offer you clemency, I would advise that you accept it." She glanced at Gregory and felt a chill deep within her.
"I think that I shall," Moraga said slowly, but it was at Geoffrey she was looking now, and Quicksilver did not like the gleam in her eye.
"Excellent!" Geoffrey slapped his knees and stood up. "Come, then! Let us go, ere your Count recovers and comes back with twice the number of men! None are dead in this coil yet, and it were best to keep it so!"
Moraga stood up, looking apprehensive. "Do we go to Runnymede, then?"
"Aye," Geoffrey said, "but first we must go to your own Duke."
"My Duke!" Moraga cried. "There is no Duke Loguire, not truly! If there were, and he had been a good man, I would have had redress at his court!"
"He is grown now, and has this week taken up his place," Geoffrey told her.
"I know him—he is a good man," Gregory assured her. At least, Quicksilver knew he meant it as assurance—but for her, coming from Gregory, it had just the opposite effect.
Not so for Moraga, though. "Well, I will trust to your word, then," she said slowly, "and come to judgement before this 'good man' of yours. But woe unto you, if you betray me!"
And, no matter how she felt toward the woman, Quicksilver found herself saying, "Amen to that. Betray her, and you shall have two of us to contend with."
Geoffrey looked up at her—not in anger, she saw, but in hurt. "Do you trust me so little as that?"
The implied vulnerability shook her, and Quicksilver chose her words carefully. "I trust you, Sir Knight, or I would not be here, no matter how many times I had given you my word. Yet this new Duke I know not at all, and therefore cannot trust at all."
"Why, that stands to reason." Gregory nodded, approving, and Quicksilver felt as though she must have done something wrong, if he thought it was right.
But she was far more concerned with his brother's attitude. Were they to be companions in arms, then, even if they were not to be lovers? Somehow, she doubted thatand knew that she could tolerate it not at all.
Geoffrey turned to Gregory. "Brother, since there are two powerful witches to escort now, will you stay with us? I may need to sleep again."
"Ay de mi!" Gregory sighed. " I did so wish to go back to my studies—but the bonds of blood are greater than the lures of books. Yes, I will come."
So they set off for Castle Loguire, two witches, a warlock, and a wizard. Moraga turned into a veritable bubbling fountain, keeping up a constant stream of chatter, then drawing both young men into telling her about themselves and their upbringing, their adventures and their triumphs. She managed the almost impossible feat of monopolizing them both, and Quicksilver fell behind, seething with a growing resentment and wondering if the woman really could be turning into a stunning beauty even as she watched.
Beauty or not, it seemed she could not make up her mind as to which Gallowglass she preferred. Quicksilver hoped fervently that she would settle on Gregory; it would do him a world of good—and Quicksilver, too.
By the time they came to Castle Loguire, she had finally admitted to herself, openly and in so many words, that she had fallen head over heels in love with Geoffrey, and had believed that he had fallen in love with her, too; that was why she had found it so much fun to torment him with her presence. As a consequence, she was now thoroughly wretched. She felt sure that his interest had been mere lust after all, and rode with a sick, leaden feeling through a darkened day; even the caresses of the sunlight could not warm her bare shoulders. Almost, she rode quietly off the road; almost, she went back to the waiting, protective arms of her brothers, her bodyguard, and her band, who she was sure were riding through the trees to either side of them, out of sight and out of hearing, but never out of mind. Almost. Not quite. The game was not completely played out yet.
So she rode, with full knowledge, over the drawbridge and under the great portcullis in the cliff face that was decorated with a hundred arrow-slits, the mountain that the first Lord Loguire had honeycombed for his home.
She felt as though she rode to her death.
CHAPTER 15
There was no real courtyard in so subterranean a place, of course—but Quicksilver was amazed to discover that they came out of the entrance tunnel into a wide open area, large enough to assemble a whole army (as it no doubt had, many times). It was filled with light from the lower two rows of arrow-slits, even though archers stood near every tenth one.
Quicksilver dismounted and let a groom take her horse as she looked about, awed by the cathedral-like grandeur of the place. It was the largest building she had ever seen, and in spite of the bustle and clamor of a working castle, gave an air of great serenity. So this was the ancestral home of the current King of Gramarye! It explained the good repute of his reign.
She shook herself. No, that was ridiculous! It was Queen Catharine who had inherited the throne, not her husband. If there was any truth to the tales of their good government, surely it was her doing, not his!
"My lady."
Quicksilver spun about, words of denial on her tongue—but they froze there, for Geoffrey took her hand and bent over it, then looked up into her eyes with admiration (yes, but admiration was not love—was it?). "I must leave you now, for a short while," he said. "I have sent word to the new Duke, and he will receive us in two hours' time—in full court. You may wish to take the chance to wash off the dust of the road, perhaps to rest a little—and if you wish fresh garb, it shall be provided."