The Duchess sat still, head bowed.
“Tis even as milord doth say,” Gwen murmured, “and thou dost know it to be true. Thou art thyself the daughter of noblemen.”
Slowly, then, the Duchess nodded. “Aye, ‘tis true. I have done naught but my duty.”
“And your lord will praise you for it,” Rod assured her. “Bewail his loss—but don’t bewail your own conduct. You know you did exactly as you should have.”
The Duchess sighed, straightening and poising her head.
“Indeed, ‘tis true—yet I did need to hear one speak it anew. I thank thee, Lady Gallowglass—and thou, Lord Warlock.” But her eyes were on Gwen’s when her sudden smile showed.
Rod heaved a sigh of relief. “I take it you’ve been driving without a rest.”
“Aye, the poor horses! Though I slowed to a walk as often as I dared—yet are the poor beasts near to foundering.”
“They lasted.” Rod turned to glance at the horses grazing. A couple had already dozed off. “It’s a wonder, though—they must’ve been going for a whole day and night.”
The Duchess nodded. “Less a few hours. We began our flight late in the afternoon.”
Gwen caught Rod’s eye, with a covert smile. He didn’t hear her thoughts, but he didn’t have to; they no doubt would’ve been something along the lines of: Subtle as a nuclear blast.
“Papa! PapaPapaPapaPapaPapa!”
Rod looked up, glad of the reprieve.
The children came pelting across the meadow—or at least, the Duchess’s two did. Rod’s brood behaved more like spears.
“Papa!” Javelin Geoffrey struck into him, and clung. Rod staggered back a step, caught his breath, and said, “Yes. What’s so important that it can’t wait a second?”
“Illaren’s papa!” Geoffrey crowed. “We saw him!”
Illaren, the elder of the Duchess’s children, nodded eagerly.
His mother sat galvanized.
“You what?” Rod caught his son under the shoulders and held him at arm’s length. “Now, be very careful what you say, son. Remember, you could hurt people’s feelings very badly, if you’re making a mistake… Now. You don’t mean to tell me you just saw Duke Romanov here, do you?”
“Oh, no, Papa!” Geoffrey cried in disgust; and Magnus exploded. “ ‘Twas last night, Papa—when we chased the warlock!”
“The nasty one, who threw rocks,” Gregory chimed in. “Art thou mindful, Papa, of when he took thee to the dungeon?”
“Yes, I remember.” Suddenly, vividly, in his mind’s eye, Rod saw the prisoner shackled to the wall again. “You mean… the man in chains…?”
“Aye! Wouldst thou not say, Papa, that he was…” He turned to Illaren, nose wrinkling. “How didst thou picture thy Father?”
“A great bear of a man,” Illaren supplied.
“Aye!” Geoffrey whirled back to Rod. “With hair of so dark a brown ‘twas near to black. And richly clad, with gilded armor!”
Rod nodded, faster and faster. “Yes… yes! Yes on the armor, too—what there was left of it, anyway.”
“But that is Father!” cried the younger boy.
“Art thou certain!” The Duchess came to her feet, staggering.
Geoffrey stilled, staring at her, eyes huge. “In truth, we are.”
“Dost thou truly mean…”
“They’re right.” Rod turned a grave face to her. “I didn’t recognize him, at the time—but I should have. It was your husband, my lady Duchess. I’m sure of it.”
She stood rigid, staring at him.
Then her eyes rolled up, and she collapsed.
Gwen stepped forward, and caught her in an expert grip. “Be not affrighted,” she assured the two boys. “Thy mother doth but swoon—and ‘tis from joy, not grief.”
“But Illaren’s papa is sorely hurted, Papa!” Magnus reminded Rod.
“Yes.” Rod fixed his eldest with an unwavering stare. “He was hurt—and imprisoned. Remember that.”
Magnus stared up at him, face unreadable.
“A Duke.” Rod’s tone was cold, measured. “With all his knights, with all his men-at-arms, with all his might, he was sorely wounded, captured, and imprisoned.” He turned his head slowly, surveying his children. “Against a power that could do that, what could four children do? And what would happen to them?”
“But we are witches!” Cordelia cried.
“Warlocks!” Geoffrey’s chin thrust forward.
“So,” Rod said, “are they.”
“They have come against us,” Geoffrey cried, “and we have triumphed!”
“Yes—when there were six of us, and one of them. What’s going to happen if we meet all of them together?” He stared into Geoffrey’s eyes. “As the Duke did.”
“We will not go back!” Cordelia stamped her foot.
Rod stiffened, his face paling. “You… will… do… as… I… tell you!”
Magnus’s face darkened, and his mouth opened, but Gwen’s hand slid around to cover it. “Children.” Her voice was quiet, but all four stilled at the sound. Gwen looked directly into Rod’s eyes. “I gave thy father my promise.” “What promise?” Cordelia cried.
“That if he did insist, we would go home.” She raised a hand to still the instant tumult. “Now he doth insist.”
Rod nodded slowly, and let his gaze warm as he looked at her.
“But, Mama…”
“Hush,” she commanded, “for there is this, too—these horrors that the Duchess hath spoke of to me. Nay, children, ‘tis even as thy father hath said—there is danger in the North, horrible and rampant. ‘Tis no place for children.”
Cordelia whirled on her. “But you, Mama…”
“Must come with thee, to see thee safely home,” Gwen said, and her tone was iron. “Or dost thou truly say that I have but to bid thee ‘Go,’ and thou’lt return to Runnymede straightaway? That thou wouldst truly not seek to follow thy father, and myself, unseen?”
Cordelia clenched her fists and stamped her foot, glaring up at her mother with incipient mutiny, but she didn’t answer.
Gwen nodded slowly. “ ‘Tis even as I thought.” She lifted her gaze to Rod. “And there is this, too—I do not believe the Duchess and her sons are safe yet.”
Rod nodded. “Very true.”
Gwen nodded too, and turned back to the children. “We must needs guard them.”
“But the soldiers…”
“Did lately chase them,” Gwen reminded. “Who is to say the sorcerer’s power may not reach down from the North to ensnare them again, and turn them ‘gainst the Duchess and her boys?”
Illaren exchanged a quick, frightened look with his brother.
“But, Mama…” Geoffrey cried.
“Thou wilt do as thou art bid,” Gwen commanded, “and thou wilt do it presently. Thou, whose care is ever the ordering of battles—wilt thou truly deny that the course of wisdom is to guard this family, and take them to King Tuan, to bear witness?”
Geoffrey glowered back up at her, then said reluctantly, “Nay. Thou hast the right of it, Mama.”
“Doesn’t she always,” Rod muttered; but nobody seemed to hear him.
She turned to him. “We shall go, husband—even as thou dost wish.”
“But Papa won’t be safe!” Cordelia whirled to throw her arms around his midriff.
Rod hugged her to him, but shook his head. “I’ve faced danger without you before, children. There was even a time when I didn’t have your mother along to protect me.”
Magnus shook his head, eyes wide with alarm. “Never such danger as this, Papa. A vile, evil sorcerer, with a whole army of witches behind him!”
“I’ve gone into the middle of an army before—and I only had a dagger against all their swords, and worse. Much worse.”
“Yet these are witches!”
“Yes—and I’ve got more than a mental dagger, to use against them.” Rod held his son’s eyes with a grave stare. “I think I can match their sorcerer, spell for spell and power for power—and pull a few tricks he hasn’t even dreamed of, since he was a child.” He hauled Magnus in against him, too. “No, don’t worry about me this time. Some day, I’ll probably meet that enemy who’s just a little too much stronger than I am—but Alfar isn’t it. For all his powers and all his nastiness, he doesn’t really worry me that much.”