Rod’s eyes gleamed. “You’ve seen him yourself, then?”
She dropped her eyes. “Aye, though only from a distance. ‘Twas enow.” She shuddered. “I could feel his hatred washing o’er me, as though I stood ‘neath a cloudburst of dirtied water. Methought that I should ne’er again feel clean!”
“But how could the Duke let you come so near the battle!”
“He fought against it, I assure thee—yet the battle did come nigh to me. For when he had dispatched the courier southwards, and his knights had come up with all their men, he donned his armor and rode forth to meet the sorcerer.”
Rod nodded. “Sounds right. I never would’ve accused Duke Romanov of hesitating—or of the slightest bit of uncertainty.”
“Error, though?” The Duchess looked up, with a sardonic smile. “I know mine husband, Lord Warlock. Dearly though I love him, I cannot help but be aware of his rashness. Yet in this matter, I believe, even full caution would have impelled him to battle—for ‘twas fight or flee, look you, and, as Duke, he could not flee—for he was sworn to the protection of his people. Twas his duty, then, to fight—and if he must needs fight, ‘twas best to fight just then, when the sorcerer and his forces were newly come from battle, and would therefore be weakened with battle losses.”
“But strengthened with the men he’d captured.” Rod frowned. “Or didn’t you realize…” He gazed at her, and let the words gel in his mouth.
“What?” She frowned.
Rod cleared his throat, and shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, uh… where he recruited his men from. His army, I mean.”
“Ah.” She smiled bitterly. “From those he had defeated, dost thou mean? Aye, that word was brought to us with the news of Baron Gratecieux’s lost battle. The soldier who came back, did tell us of old friends he’d seen who, he knew, had fought in the train of one of Gratecieux’s vassal knights.”
“Well, at least it’s not a surprise now,” Rod sighed. “I suppose it would take Alfar a little while to process his new recruits…”
“To bind them under his spell?” The Duchess shook her head. “I know not. I know only that my lord did march out toward the castle that had been Gratecieux’s—and I went up to the highest turret, to see them go.”
Rod lifted his head a little. “Could you see all the way to Gratecieux’s castle?”
“Aye; his towers are taller even than those of Their Royal Majesties. We can see only the battlements—yet we can see that much. Not that I had need to.”
Rod frowned. “You mean they didn’t even get that far?”
The Duchess nodded. “The sorcerer had marched out to meet him. Even when my lord set out, the sorcerer’s forces already stood, drawn up and waiting, by a ravine midway betwixt the two castles. ‘Tis as though he knew aforetime of my lord’s coming.”
“He did,” Rod growled. “All witches and warlocks here are mind readers.”
The Duchess looked up, surprised. Then her mouth tightened in exasperation. “Aye, certes. And I knew it. I had but to think—and I did not.”
“It matters not,” Gwen said quickly.
“Truth. What aid could I provide?” The Duchess spread her hands helplessly. “I could but watch. Yet though the sorcerer had magics, my lord the Duke had guile.”
“Oh, really? You mean he managed to escape the ambush?”
“Aye, and drew them onto ground of his choosing. For they waited on the road, look you, with a wooded slope to the left, and a bank strewn with boulders on the right.”
Rod nodded. “Good ambush country. What’d your husband do about the roadblock?”
“He saw it afar off, and marched his force off the road ere the slopes had begun to enfold it. Out into the open plain they went, and away toward Castle Gratecieux.”
“Oh, nice.” Rod grinned. “Go knock on the door while the army’s out waiting for you.” His opinion of Duke Romanov went up a notch. No matter; it had plenty of room.
“The sorcerer did not appreciate his wisdom,” the Duchess assured Rod. “He marched his men posthaste out into the plain, to once again block my lord’s path, and more men than had bestrode the road, burst from the trees and rock.”
“Of course. Your husband knows an ambush point when he sees one—and it is nice to be proven right now and then, isn’t it?”
The Duchess exchanged a wifely glance with Gwen.
Rod hurried. “I gather they did manage to cut him off.”
“They did indeed; yet my lord’s troops were drawn up in battle array, and fresh, whiles the sorcerer’s straggled hard from a chase. Then they met, with a fearful clash of arms and a howling of men, that I could hear clearly over the leagues. And, at first, my lord’s forces bore back the sorcerer’s. Little could I see from my tower; but the coil of men did move away, and therefore did I know that the sorcerer retreated, and my lord did follow.”
“Delightful! But I take it that didn’t last?”
“Nay.” She spread her hands. “I cannot tell why, or what did hap to change the tide of battle. I only know that the coil began to grow again, and swelled far too quickly. Thus I knew that my husband’s forces did flee—in truth, that I did witness a rout. I stayed to see no more, but flew down to gather up my boys, and bundle them into the coach. I bade them keep the curtains close, and lie upon the floor; then turned I to old Peter, the groom, and I did cry, ‘The coachman hath gone to fight by my lord’s side! Up, old Peter, and aid us in our flight!’ Yet he did not stir; he only glowered up at me, and spat at my feet. ‘Not I,’ he growled. ‘Ne’er again shall I serve a lordling!’ ”
Rod didn’t speak, but flint struck steel in his gaze.
Gwen saw, and nodded. “Twas even so. The sorcerer’s spells had reached out to entrap his mind.”
“What did you do?” Rod asked the Duchess.
“I fled,” the Duchess said simply. “I did not stay to seek another coachman, lest old Peter’s surliness turn to malice. I had no wish to have spellbound creatures seek to drag me down. Nay, I sprang up on the box myself, and seized the whip. I attempted to crack it over the horses’ heads, but it only whistled past them; yet that was enow, and they trotted forward. Through the gates and over the drawbridge I drove, with my heart in my throat, for fear the team would seize the bits, and run wild away; yet they trotted obediently, and I found that I had moved in barely ample time. For even as my coach’s wheels roared onto the drawbridge, the portcullis shot down behind me with a crash, and the bridge beneath me began to tremble. As soon as I was clear, I did look back, and, surely, did see the bridge begin to rise.”
“Yet thou wast free!” Gwen breathed.
The Duchess shook her head. “Nay, not yet. For as I raced away from the castle, I did see my lord’s soldiers charging towards me with the sorcerer’s men-at-arms hot on their heels. I knew I must pass near to their flight ere I could win free to the southward road; I prayed that our faithful men, seeing me, would turn to fight, and gain us that last vital moment in which to escape. Yet were my hopes dashed, for as they came nigh me, fire kindled in their eyes, and a dozen of them ran to catch my horses’ reins, howling for my blood and my children’s heads—they, who but minutes before had fought in our defense!” She buried her face in her hands, sobbing.
Gwen wrapped an arm around her, and murmured, “They did not know. I have broke this spell from two bands of men now, and thus can tell thee how it is: Their minds are put to sleep, and the thoughts that float above that slumber are not theirs. The men themselves, who swore thee faith and served thee well, do keep the faith they swore! If they are waked, and learn what their bodies did while their minds slept, they will be heart-struck, even as these.” She nodded toward the soldiers gathered under the tree.
“Heart-struck, as am I!” the Duchess sobbed. “For when they are waked from their enchantment, what shall I say to them? ‘That scar upon thy cheek is my own doing, but I did not truly mean to do it?’ For, look thee, as they threw themselves at the horses’ bits, I struck out with the whip, and scored them wheresoe’er I might—on their hands, their arms, their chests or, aye, even their faces! And they fell back, then they fell back…“ Her voice dissolved into weeping again.