The crashing of its passage faded, and Rod let himself sink back to the earth, panting and pressing a hand against the ache in his side, wondering if the monster's grip had cracked a bone. "Must have been—witch-moss," he gasped, "but a hell of a lot of it! What have we got—a whole village full of grannies telling ogre tales?" He turned to his family. "Okay, you can come down now."
They were down, all right—but Cordelia was huddled against her mother sobbing, and Gregory was clutching tight to her skirts, staring up at his father with huge, frightened eyes. Behind, Magnus and Geoffrey stood manfully, trying to hide their apprehension.
Rod frowned. "What's the matter with you? The troll was the monster—not me!"
Tears brimmed Gwen's eyes. "Husband, we saw naught! Thou didst dodge from no blows!"
"Come on! It plowed up a dozen snowdrifts!"
"The surface was completely undisturbed, Rod," Fess answered, "except by your own tumbles."
' 'Then thou didst rise up though naught did hold thee— yet thou didst struggle as though against a giant hand."
"Believe me, I felt it!"
"But we did not see it!"
"Not see it?" Rod stilled suddenly, feeling a chill of ice that had nothing to do with the winter. "You're all against me again, aren't you? Teaming up!"
"Husband, no!"—as though it were torn from her.
"Then look, will you?" Rod whirled, pointing at the snow. "There're the footprints! Fess could stand in one! In fact, he is standing in one!"
The horse looked down. "I see only snow, Rod, disturbed by no more than my own hooves."
"Mayhap only thou couldst see it," Gregory offered. "Could it have been shielded by a spell that denied it to our eyes?"
That gave Rod pause, but Fess answered, "We would then have been able to see its effects, Gregory, and…"
"Save your breath, Fess." Rod's eyes narrowed as he looked down at the boy. "He's humoring me."
Gregory shrank back against Gwen's skirts, and for a moment, the whole family stood frozen, appalled at the memory of their father's rages, and bracing themselves for another.
"Hell's skulls," Rod moaned, "am I near lashing out at you all?"
No one answered him.
"I am," Rod breathed, "I really am! And there is no way I'm going to let that happen again!"
On the word, he turned and strode away into the forest.
"No, Papa!"
"Papa, come back!"
"Husband, thou hast not readied thyself for being long out of doors!"
"Sacred Blue!" Rod muttered to himself. "As though I hadn't slogged through sixteen-hour winter days before I ever met her!"
"On the planet Pohyola, as I remember, Rod," Fess said at his shoulder, "when you were helping the rebels to organize."
"Are you there, then?" Rod scowled up at the great black horse. "Go away. I'm of questionable mental equilibrium, remember?"
"No one but yourself has said so, Rod."
"No one but myself has had to live in my mind." Rod stopped stock-still, staring off into the night. "That's it!"
"What is what, Rod?"
"Why I could see a troll, and none of the rest of you could. Because it wasn't there."
You could almost hear the relief in Fess's voice. "That is, certainly, a logical conclusion, Rod."
"Yeah, but then isn't it equally logical that I'm hallucinating?"
"That is simply a matter of definition."
"No, it's a matter of scrambled brains. Face it, Fess—I'm insane." Rod stopped in the snow, a beatific smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, insane. Well! If that's all it is, then I can relax again."
"Would you… explain the basis for that attitude, Rod?"
"What's to explain? As long as I know what it is, I know what to do about it.''
"Which is?" Fess asked, with foreboding.
"Stay far away from Gwen and the kids, for openers, so I can't hurt them. Stay away from everybody, for that matter, until I manage to get myself straightened out." Rod started walking again. "That forest looks inviting. I'm overdue for a vacation, anyway."
"Now, Rod." Fess hurried to catch up with him. "Surely you are exaggerating."
"No, I'm hallucinating. And if I'm hallucinating, I'm either starving, drugged, suffering from heatstroke, or insane."
"That is not a warranted inference…"
"Oh, yeah? Do you know any other causes of hallucination?"
Fess was silent a moment, then said, "An excess of religious zeal, perhaps, usually coinciding with deep meditation."
"Yeah, well, I sure haven't been praying this afternoon— and after that banquet Their Majesties fed us, I'm certainly not starving! If any of that food had been drugged, there'd be a hundred other people hallucinating, too!"
"Have we any proof that they are not?"
"Judging by the ruckus I've been making, we'd have heard them by now—or at least heard about them; Their Royalties always summon us when something unexplain-able happens to somebody."
"That does seem valid," Fess said with reluctance.
"You bet it does! As to heatstroke, it's the middle of winter—and that leaves insanity!"
' 'The term is perhaps a bit extreme…"
"Sure—I'm just seeing things that aren't really there. Seeing them attack me, too—and will you really try to tell me that I haven't always been a little bit paranoid?"
"Your grandfather did perhaps exert too strong an influence on you, with his medieval fantasies…"
"Yes—my darling, beloved, but dotty grandfather. Is that an adjective you'd accept, Fess? Or how about 'mad as a hatter'?"
"I think I might prefer the last," Fess said slowly, "considering its association with the works of Lewis Carroll."
"Then it's heigh-ho! Off to Wonderland! Are you coming along, Fess?" But Rod didn't wait for an answer.
Chapter Two
The trees closed behind him. Rod glanced back, and saw only a maze of bare branches, outlined by the snow clinging to them. At once, he slowed his pace with a sigh of relief. "They did it. They stayed."
"They do recognize your need for occasional solitude, Rod."
"Still there, Steel Steed?" Rod looked up at his old companion, and was surprised to see that the great black horse was facing front, not watching him. For some reason, this made the pressure roll off. "Well. So I'm on sick leave."
"It would seem advisable," the robot agreed.
"Great!" Rod stretched, then relaxed with a happy sigh. "No more emergency calls from Tuan and Catharine! At least, not for a while."
"Yet Gwen will have to manage the children alone," Fess murmured.
"She does, anyway, Fess, you know that. I'm just a security symbol for them all, a sort of animated teddy bear."
"Oh, no, Rod! You do them an injustice. You are far more, to all of them…" He stopped, seeing that his owner wasn't listening.
"Fess—what's that great big brown blob over there?"
"Where, Rod?" Fess followed Rod's gaze, but saw nothing.
Rod, however, saw a large, fat animal stand up on its hind legs and wave, a cheerful smile on its face. "It's a bear, Fess—six feet tall, if it's an inch. Very friendly-looking, too," he said, puzzled. "I thought bears were supposed to be hibernating."
"They are, Rod." There was a cautious note to the robot's voice. "Are its legs much thicker than is normal for its kind?"