The guards at either side of the doorway looked up, startled, then gave a shout and leaped to stop her. She whirled about, lashing a vicious kick into the shin of the first man, then snatching his pike from his hand as he opened his mouth to shout. She swung the butt up at his partner's face as the man came running. He jerked to a halt and swung his halberd up to block—and she swivelled her weapon down to jab him in the stomach. As he doubled over, she spun back just a little too late, for the first guard had limped close enough to catch her arm, blood in his eye, and his fingers dug deep, sending a shoot of pain up her arm. She clenched her teeth, stamped on his foot, and, as his mouth opened in agony, clipped him in the chin with the butt of the pike. As he fell away, she pivoted back to his partner, but the man was rolling on the ground, struggling for breath. Quicksilver curled her lip and stalked away, reflecting that no matter what they had been told, the fools had never expected a woman to fight back. It had made them easy meat—but they were not to her taste...
She went after the hunk of beef that was.
They stood on a stairway landing in a pool of light colored by stained glass, one of the very few real windows, chatting with animation and every sign of pleasure, which cut Quicksilver to the quick.
"But I shall be tried!" Moraga insisted. "You cannot deny that!"
"Well, you have broken the law," Geoffrey admitted, "so at the least, the Duke shall have to give you a hearing."
"Hearing? You mean he will listen?" Moraga had tears in her eyes.
"To be sure, he will listen!" Geoffrey moved closer, hand reaching up for Moraga, to give comfort. Moraga turned into the curve of his arm, and Quicksilver saw, with shock, that the woman had somehow become quite lovely. Perhaps it was the visitor's gown that had been supplied by the Duke, even as her own had—but this one clung to a figure suddenly revealed as voluptuous, and the pudgy face had somehow thinned, becoming firm-cheeked, small chinned, heart-shaped, and with large eyes framed by a rich black mane. Her lashes were long and full, her lips even fuller, and very red. Quicksilver halted for a moment, stunned by the metamorphosis. Surely pretty clothes and a decent hairstyle could not achieve that much of a transformation!
Then anger surged as she realized just how deep Moraga's deception must have reached, and she lanced a quick, feather-light probe into the witch's mind. She read a brief flash of thought—the determination of a beautiful woman to gain Geoffrey's trust by appearing plain, then once she was close to him, making herself more and more attractive, stimulating his interest as much by touches of thought as by beauty—a telepathic temptress!
Then the thought closed off abruptly as Moraga spun about with a gasp of surprise that quickly transmuted to outrage.
There was more there, but Quicksilver had not had time to read it—nor did she truly care. All she really needed to know was that a scheming female had deliberately stolen her man from her, probably the only male ever born who would have been man enough for Quicksilver, and she swooped like a hawk on a snake.
What Moraga saw was an avenging Fury in a fine gown of velvet and brocade, with a tall pike in hand. She may be excused if she shrank in fright. She may be, but she did not. She fixed Quicksilver with an acid glare, and the bandit chieftain felt a sudden stab of pain in her head. "You would, would you, witch?" she cried, and stabbed back with a mental lance of her own, hafted with hurt of treachery and barbed with all the rage of that injury. Moraga cried out and shrank away, hands pressed to her head, then suddenly lunged at Quicksilver, hand cracking across her cheek. The pain startled her just enough for her mental guard to drop, and suddenly she saw not Moraga, but a fiery demon, and instead of Geoffrey, a venomous snake. The little girl within her cried out in fear and burrowed deeper—but the grown woman erupted in a fury she had never known. "You would cast illusions, would you, witch? Then let us see your true nature, that we all may know!" And with the strength of all her anger and frustration and bitterness, she ripped aside the mental veil of illusion and showed the woman as she truly was.
She was even more beautiful than Moraga, and just as voluptuous. Golden hair cascaded down around her shoulders; a face of elfin beauty stared in outrage from two huge blue eyes. The waist was tiny, the bones delicate, the figure superb...
Then it was gone, and in sheer self-defense, Quicksilver cried, "Why, how is this? I tear away one illusion only to reveal another! Is there no truth in you?"
"Yes, and it is this!" Moraga stabbed a finger at her, and pain exploded behind Quicksilver's eyes. She sank to her knees, dropping the pike and clutching her head with a cry of agony...
"Enough!" said Geoffrey's voice, and the pain was gone.
Quicksilver looked up incredulously and saw Moraga red-faced and straining, fists clenched, standing apart from Geoffrey, eyes squeezed shut as she fought to lash out at Quicksilver again.
The bandit chieftain scrambled to her feet. "Loose her! I shall deal with her myself!"
"No," said Geoffrey, "for I wish no blood spilled on your way to trial—either of you!" He turned to glare at Moraga. "Do you wish to be hanged for a new crime, when you might be found guiltless of the old?"
Moraga stilled, stood frozen a moment, then gave Geoffrey a stunning smile. "Why, you are right, as always. I thank you for saving me again! But if you will excuse me now, I shall go, for I must repair the ravages this wanton has wrought!"
"Wanton!" Quicksilver cried in indignation, but Moraga only brushed past her with a quick, venomous smile and went on up the stairs. Quicksilver turned to follow, but Geoffrey's hand restrained her, ever so lightly on her forearm. "Nay, sweet lady. Stay, and do not pursue a fight not worthy of you."
Quicksilver turned on him, anger at Moraga transmuting instantly to anger at Geoffrey's perfidy. "And you, sir! Will you gaze longingly at me, then turn to cozen any other pretty maid who happens by? Is there no faith in you?"
"There is." His eyes were glowing into hers again. "Pardon me if I took pity on a stray, or if I did let myself enjoy her conversation and her presence. I assure you, 'twas nothing of any depth, for I knew her for what she was."
"Oh, did you indeed!" Quicksilver spat. "Then you may know it alone, for you surely know not truth when you see it!" Even that did not assuage her outrage, though, so she went on. "You need not look so smug, sir! That witch meant to entrap you if she could and, if she could not, to geld you, in your mind if not your body!"
"I do not doubt it for a second;" Geoffrey assured her. "Indeed, I saw it in her mind as you fought. I must thank you, lady, for my life." And he stepped forward to take her hand and kiss it.
Quicksilver stood frozen in shock; then, before her emotions could betray her, she snapped, "Aye, you will thank me for your escape—but you will not lift a hand to ensure mine!" And she spun on her heel and stalked away, back to her chamber where the two guards were just now reviving. She tossed the halberd back down between them with contempt. "Here—not that it will do you any good!" And she swept on into her chamber, leaving them to gawk at her, stupified.
One look in the mirror was nearly enough to reduce her to tears. Her hair was dishevelled, her face red with exertion and alarm. Fortunately, her gown did not seem to have suffered at all—and there was a box of rice powder close at hand. She washed her face, dried it, and powdered, then rearranged her hair, scolding herself all the while for having bothered to go to Geoffrey's defense, when he had only been about to get what he richly deserved.