Rod nodded. "So don't worry about it, children—and do try to help the simpleton and the madman when you can."
"What of the fool, Papa?"
Rod stirred uncomfortably. "I don't know if you can help a fool, children, except to save him from total disaster. But remember, it won't help any of them to go around looking gloomy."
Magnus grinned. "Aye, Papa. Let us help them when we can—but when we cannot, let us take what joy we may."
"Well said." Rod smiled. "And just now, it's the end of a perfect day."
"Aye." Gwen rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, then looked up at him, smiling. He returned the smile, gazing deeply into her eyes, hoping that she was really giving the promise he read there.
"You two really should be careful of your footing," Fess observed.
"Okay, I get the message. We'll watch where we're going." Rod turned back to the road with a happy sigh. "I can't complain, though. It's a perfect winter's night— clear as a bell, with the stars at their brightest."
"Aye, and the greater moon nearly full."
"Yeah." Rod looked up at the silver circle through the twigs of the branch above him. "Funny how every decent-sized moon always has markings that look like a face."
"Like a face?" Gregory piped up. Rod looked down at his youngest. "Thou hast told us some did see the whole of the man there!"
"Aye, and with a dog at his heels!" Cordelia was still in the habit of behaving like little brother's shadow, just in case.
"And a lantern, too!" Geoffrey wasn't about to be left out—and, suddenly, Gwen was surrounded with her whole brood again, as dapper young Magnus came sauntering back, smoothing his first moustache with a fingertip. (Rod had sworn he wouldn't teach him to shave until there was enough to make the effort worthwhile.)
"The man with the dog and lantern was a medieval European interpretation, children," Fess explained.
"Back on old Terra, kids, humanity's birthplace." Rod smiled down at Gwen. "We did manage to find time to take a look at it, when we were there."
"Tell us again how thou wert on that first Moon of Men," Geoffrey demanded.
Rod shook his head. "Not tonight. But I will say that I never saw more than a face in it, myself."
"Then is it in our minds that the Man in the Moon doth dwell, Papa, and not truly in his silver sphere?"
Rod nodded, looking up at the satellite again. "Could be, Gregory. Of course, I suppose it depends on the viewer, too. For myself, trying to see what's really there and not what I've been told about, I'd have to say the Gramarye Moon looks like…"
"A pie!" Geoffrey cried.
"A shilling!" Cordelia caroled.
"A cheese!"
"A mirror!"
"I was going to say, an eye." Rod grinned. "See? It winked at me."
"Where!"
"Let me see!"
"Will it wink for me, too, Papa?"
"It would certainly be a very odd atmospheric effect." Fess looked up at the moon.
"I see not so much as an eyelash," Gwen informed them.
But the shape of the pupil and iris was becoming clearer, so clear that Rod couldn't doubt the resemblance. "It did. It winked again." Then he realized there was another eye beside it—and he froze. "There's two of them, and… they're narrowing!"
The branch above him moved downward, the twigs flexing, looking more and more like woody fingers on the end of a bark-covered arm, coming right down toward the family.
"Look out!" Rod grabbed Gwen in his right arm, Cordelia and Gregory in his left, and dove for the roadside, bowling down Geoffrey and Magnus on the way, as the enormous hand groped toward them.
The children howled with alarm, and Gwen cried, "Husband! What dost thou!"
"Battle stations!" Rod shouted. "It's coming for us!"
"What doth come for us?" Magnus scrambled to his feet, looking about wildly.
"Where? What?" Geoffrey sprang up, landing in a crouch, sword out, darting glances to left and to right.
Fess leaped out into the road, blocking them with his huge body. "Where is the enemy, Rod? I cannot see it!"
"There! It's a troll! That wasn't the moon, it was its eye—and that branch was its arm and hand!"
"Husband, calm thyself!" Gwen said. " 'Tis not a troll's eye, but truly the moon! And the branch is only a branch!"
"Can't you see it?" Rod dodged aside as the huge hand swept down past the horse, turning into a fist.
"Nay!" Cordelia wailed. "Oh, Papa, there's naught there!"
"Don't tell me what I don't see!" Rod leaped back, sword whisking out as the gigantic fist slammed into the snowbank in front of him and swung up again. "Quick, fly away! It's after us!"
' 'But there is naught…"
"Do you trust me or don't you?" Rod bellowed. "Run! I can't escape until you do!"
"Papa," Cordelia insisted through her tears, "there is no troll! 'Tis but a dream!"
"Then it's a dream that can hurt you! Fly!"
"Quickly, children!" Gwen cried. "Whatsoe'er he doth see, he cannot be calm while we're here! Up, aloft! Everyone!" Her broomstick appeared from beneath her cloak.
In a whisk, Cordelia was airborne, her brothers shooting up like skyrockets. Gwen spiraled up after them.
Fess came to Rod's side. "If there is a troll, Rod, it is invisible, and that is contrary to the laws of physics."
"Invisible? It's right there, for crying out loud! Fess, jump out of the way!"
But the horse stood still, so Rod leaped to the side, and the troll seemed to pause, unsure which target to aim at.
Gwen decided the issue by calling, "We are safe, husband!"
"No, you're not!" Rod shouted as the troll turned with a gibbering laugh, its huge hand reaching up toward Rod's daughter. " 'Delia, up to a hundred feet! He's after you!
You obscenity of a monster—get away from my child!" And he leaped at the troll, slashing out with his sword.
The blade cracked against a leg hard as oak, but it scored a long line, and ichor welled out. With a howl of rage, the troll turned, huge fist smashing down at Rod.
He leaped again, and snow fountained where the fist struck, while Fess's voice rang inside his head. "Rod! Put up your blade! There are none here but yourself and your family! There is no troll!"
"Then how come he's trying to tear my head off?" Rod leaped again, but the troll's other hand caught him in a crushing squeeze, driving the air from his lungs. He managed a sort of whinnying cry of alarm as the ground swung away beneath his feet, and the troll's huge maw gaped wide before him. Vision reddened as the viselike grip pushed blood into his head, but a single thought swam through the haze: even a troll had to have parts that were soft—relatively, at least. He saw the huge lips soaring closer and lunged out as hard as he could. His blade jabbed into flesh that had the texture of balsa.
The troll let out a hoot that would have attracted a female locomotive and threw Rod down, hard—he managed to think Up! barely in time to cushion the force of the fall. He landed on his side and rolled up to his feet as the troll roared and stalked toward him, its eyes crimson in the night, huge foot slamming down at him.
Rod danced aside, and dodged the huge fist that followed—then leaped as high as he could, rocketing upward with the full power of his levitation, sword spearing toward the troll's belly.
It hit, with a shock that jolted Rod's whole arm—but the troll howled in agony and doubled over. Rod managed to shoot out of the way, then lunged in to skewer the monster's ear. The sword pierced the lobe, and the troll clapped a hand over it with a roar that shook the hillside. It snapped back upright—until the pain in its abdomen stopped it. Rod dove in at the inside of the elbow, feeling like a mosquito—but no insect ever brought out a bellow like that. The troll stumbled back, away, then away again, hands up to fend off the tiny demon that shot around and about it, darting in and stabbing. It turned away, burbling in alarm, and stumbled off into the forest.