"Never, by force of arms?" Matt pricked up his ears. "That means it has been taken. The only question, is: How?"
"By treachery," Robin answered, "by a traitor opening its gates from within. Surely, Milord Wizard, we shall not stoop so low!"
"No," Matt said slowly, "but if one of us were able to get in and open the gates, that wouldn't be treachery."
"True," Robin allowed, "yet how shall we achieve that?"
"I might know a friend or two who could do it. Uh, Puck?"
"Aye, Wizard?" The other Robin popped his head out of a joint in Sir Guy's armor.
"A thought," the knight agreed. "Hobgoblin, can you penetrate the castle of the sorcerer-king?"
But Puck shook his head. "I have tested it already, knight, in such wise that none could detect. There are fell and puissant spells that guard that keep, and a miasma of old corruption throughout it. Elves have been slain there, slain wholesale. I have asked of the sprites of this land, and they tell me that, when the sorcerer took the castle, his second act was to annihilate every sprite that was not evil and would not serve his ends."
Yverne and Marian shuddered, along with most of the men. Matt managed to shelve the shudder and ask, "His second act? What was his first?"
"The slaying of the rightful king, and all his adherents."
"Pardon his innocence," Sir Guy told Puck. "He is a man of magic, after all, not of war."
"And you are a man of honor," the Puck pointed out.
"True, and therefore do I ken dishonor and shameful acts. I thank you, elf."
"At your bidding." Puck popped back in to Sir Guy's armor. "Well, that lets one out." Matt sighed. "Max?"
"Aye, Wizard?" The arc spark danced before him, and the whole band drew away with gasps of horror.
"Don't worry, folks," Matt called out. "He's neither good nor bad in himself, and he's on our side."
"How foolish some mortals are, not to know!" the Demon scoffed. "What would you with me, Wizard?"
"Just some information. Do you think you could get into that castle, across the strait, and dry-rot the gates?"
"While rusting the portcullis? Nay. I had felt some strangeness there, and did go to investigate—but the place is wrapped about with some force that contains its corruption into some semblance of form. It is entropy bound, and anathema to me."
Interesting aspect of evil—chaos held together long enough to wreak disaster. Matt sighed. "Okay, thanks. I won't ask the next question—the answer's obvious."
"Should you not test it anyway?"
"Not by experiment, thank you. I only bet on sure things."
"Any number must play," the Demon droned.
"Not in my park. I'll call you when it's time for roulette."
"Baccarat," the Demon snapped, and disappeared.
Robin Hood frowned. "Wherefore would you back a rat?"
"Because he might be able to gnaw through the king's defenses." Matt leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "I'm stonkered, Sir Guy. There may be a way into that castle, but if there is, I don't see it."
"Of course you may see!"
Everyone turned at the sound of Don de la Luce's voice coming from the archway that led down into the dungeons.
The old don stood in the pool of light from the torches that flanked the arch, holding the hand of a beautiful young woman, gazing down at her flawless features with a fatuous smile.
Matt stared. Her green gown had every appearance of being woven of living seaweed, leaves and fronds creating the look of a feathered cloak. Golden rings sparkled on her fingers and a golden coronet in her blonde hair—hair that was not really quite yellow, but faintly tinged with green. Her complexion was pale, but her lips were rubies, and her eyes the deepest green of the sea. She turned to gaze at them, those magical eyes wide and huge, her nose tip-tilted, her heart-shaped face composed and tranquil. Her lips curved with a smile. "They are, milord! Mortals, and not evil! I can feel their wonder! 'Tis a marvel!"
Matt felt an eerie tingling down his spine, and his skin prickled. He stood up carefully and turned to bow to the young lady. "Your servant, mademoiselle. Whom have I the pleasure of addressing?"
The girl clapped her hands and laughed with delight. "He is so impatient, this one! Milord, will you introduce us?"
"With pleasure." De la Luce beamed. "Lord Wizard, this is the Lady Sinelle, the maid of whom I told you. Lady Sinelle, this is Matthew, Lord Wizard of Merovence."
Matt looked up at the old man with a stab of panic. Was he out of his mind, disclosing Matt's real identity to someone who might not be sympathetic to their plot!
No. Of course he wouldn't. Matt forced himself to relax; the lady must be on their side.
Her eyes were round and huge as she looked about the hall. "Never have I beheld so many mortals, foregathered in one place! Though 'tis goodly to see this great hall no longer resounding with its emptiness. I had wondered, when you told me of it, my lord. Why do they come?"
The old don started to answer, but Matt beat him to it. "That's an issue that might be answered at some length—but only after you have met the rest of my friends." He took a quick glance, weighing who should be introduced first.
Fadecourt was still sitting dazed, holding the hand of a staring Yverne, both astounded to find that the old man had been speaking the truth. Sir Guy and Robin Hood, though, had recovered in an instant and rose, ready for anything—as usual.
"This is Robin Hood, the rightful Earl of Locksley, currently posing as a forest outlaw because he opposes tyrants," Matt said. "Milord Earl, the demoiselle...uh, Lady Sinelle."
"I am the demoiselle d'Ys, too," the lady said, pressing Robin's hand but withdrawing her own before he could kiss it. "Not she of legend, no, who brought disaster on my poor city, but her descendant. Yet she is dead, and the title has come down to me."
She turned to Sir Guy, and Matt said quickly, "Sir Guy de Toutarien, the Black Knight—the Lady Sinelle, demoiselle d'Ys." The lady inclined her head, but regarded Sir Guy with a smile of amusement. "A simple knight bachelor, you would have us believe? Surely, Sir Knight."
Sir Guy kissed her fingertips before she whisked them away, and regarded her with a steady gaze. "Methinks milady knows more than she speaks."
"As should any wise demoiselle," the lady returned, "or any prudent man, for that matter. My ancestress was not, though she thought she was—yet that was only vainglorious contempt of those around her, in another guise. It was for that pride that she drowned her island and city."
"Surely," Yverne protested, "so many folk did not die for one single woman's pride!"
"There were few enough good folk in Ys," the lady returned, "for my ancestress's influence had been wide-reaching and pervasive. Nay, my grandfather gathered those few good souls together within his castle, so that only they who merited the Sea King's wrath were drowned. We keep a merry court in our castle beneath the waves, where there is never want nor sorrow, for none of us need die, and my grandfather has taught the sea creatures to provide for us. This they do, in return for his protection. Tell your fellows, and beware—this cove is sacrosanct from all who fish or dive!"
"Even so," the don confirmed. "None will fish in my bay, nor in the strait between mine island and the mainland, for dire things have happened to they who have taken living creatures from these waters."
Matt didn't think he wanted to hear what. "You mean you haven't had any trouble with the current king?"
Sinelle made a moue. "Some irritation, when first he took the throne and sought to fish our waters for his supper—but a heavy sea capsized his sailors' boats, and a kraken cracked his ships. Since then, ever and anon we feel the power of his fell magics, like a bit of metal on the tooth, or a tone that grates upon the ear—but my great-father repels him with ease. Yet sea creatures flee to us in fear, and loathsome monsters prowl the waters without our cove, ever testing my great-father's warding spells. It is not in our power to smite this gross kinglet, yet if it were, we should not hesitate."