Cordelia decided to assert her position as resident unicorn-friend, and skipped up toward her, holding up her ring of flowers. "Here, O Silver One! I shall not hurl this, but give it thee!"
The nearest man leaped out, sprinting toward her.
Just then, Geoffrey tossed a wreath a little too far to the side. The ungenerous might have thought he intended to hit Cordelia with it.
But the unicorn didn't. It spun and leaped, tossing its head to catch the ring on its horn.
The soldier gave a shout of triumph as he pounced on Cordelia.
The unicorn's horn slashed through his jerkin. Blood welled out of his arm. The man shrank back with a bleat of terror, pale and trembling at such a close brush with death.
"Footpad!" Geoffrey howled in anger. "A vile villain come to seize our sister! Brothers, rend him!"
But the trees and bushes all around them erupted, armed men boiling out of them with blood-curdling battle cries, leaping toward the children and catching them up with yells of triumph. Gregory squalled, and Cordelia shrieked with rage. But Geoffrey clamped his jaw shut, narrowed his eyes for better aim, and sent his wreath sailing right into the face of Cordelia's captor.
The soldier was startled; his hold loosened, and Cordelia twisted free.
Magnus's wreath skimmed into the face of Gregory's cap-tor. It was a rose wreath, with thorns. The man bellowed in pain, and dropped Gregory, who shot up like a rocket and disappeared into the leaves above. Geoffrey's captor saw and blanched, just before Cordelia's wreath struck him on the brow. Geoffrey shot away from him to land beside Cordelia. "Thou hadst no need to aid! I would have had him kneeling in an instant!"
"Ever the mannerly gentleman, thou," she scoffed.
The last soldier tightened his hold on Magnus. "Thy wreaths shall avail thee naught—I shall not loose my hold!"
Magnus glanced down at the man's feet. A creeper nearby unwound itself from the base of a sapling and writhed over to the soldier, winding up around his mailed leg, then yanking hard. He shouted a startled oath, lurching back, then caught his balance—but for a moment, his hands loosened, and Magnus sprang free.
The first soldier shouted in anger and leaped at Cordelia again.
The unicorn sprang forward, head down, horn stabbing. The man leaped aside with a shout of fear, and the silver horn
scored a trail of blood across his cheek. He dodged back, drawing his sword; but the unicorn danced before him, parrying his lunges and thrusting at him, driving him back.
"Wouldst thou hurt her then?" Cordelia cried. "Vile wretch! Have at thee!" His sword wrenched itself out of his hand and flipped about to dance in front of his face. He paled and backed away, until he bumped into a tree trunk and could go no further. Nearby, three more soldiers fell under the hooves of the great black horse.
Another soldier bellowed and lunged at Geoffrey. The lad disappeared with a bang and reappeared a second later behind the soldier, jamming a knee against the back of his neck and an arm across his throat. The soldier turned purple, gargling and clawing at Geoffrey's arm, then yanked and bowed, sending the boy tumbling through the air. He didn't land, of course—he only soared up higher, yanking a rotten fruit from a tree and hurling it down at the soldier as he cried, "Cordelia! Mount and ride! We may not retreat whiles thou dost remain!"
"Wherefore retreat?" she retorted. "Let us stay and knock them senseless!"
"For once, he hath the right of it." Puck stood by her knee. "Thou mayest prevail—or they may take thee unawares, one by one, and capture thee all. Flee, damsel! Or dost thou wait to see one hurl a spear through thy unicorn?"
Cordelia gasped in horror and whirled to leap onto the unicorn's back. "Quickly, my sweet! Leave these swinish men far behind!"
The unicorn reared, whinnying, then leaped out and sprang into a gallop, dodging away between the trees so lithely that she seemed to dart through their trunks.
"One hath escaped, Auncient!" a soldier cried.
"We shall follow and find!" the biggest soldier answered. "Seize these!"
" 'Tis not likely," Geoffrey retorted, and more rotten fruit came plunging off the tree. The soldiers leaped aside, but the fruits veered to follow them, and landed in their faces with a gooey sound.
"Be off, while they're blinded!" Puck cried. "Retreat, lads! Avoid!"
"Wherefore?" Geoffrey's eyes glittered with excitement as he landed; his whole body was tensed for battle. "Dost truly think they can stand against us?"
"Mayhap! Thou mayest lapse, thou mayest grow careless!"
"Yet we are not like to! Nay! Let us stay, and stretch them senseless on the greensward!"
"There is no need," Magnus pointed out, "and 'tis witless to hurt them when we need not."
Geoffrey hesitated.
"We shall brawl at thy side, when we must," Gregory piped, "as we have done already. Yet now, brother, I prithee —let us be gone, sin that we can!"
"Away!" Puck commanded. "Till we discover who hath sent them! Why seize the sheep, when thou mayest have the shepherd?"
The soldiers finished wiping the goo off their faces and strode forward.
"So be it, then," Geoffrey said with disgust. "We go!" He relaxed, straightening up, and disappeared with a bang. A double explosion echoed his, and the soldiers found themselves staring at one another over an empty clearing.
Gregory turned the spit slowly, eyes huge and mouth watering as he watched the roasting partridges growing brown.
"What word, Puck?" The firelight reflected off Magnus's face as he watched a tiny elf muttering into Puck's ear. The sprite darted away, and Puck sat up straight, nodding. "'Tis even as we thought."
Geoffrey nodded with satisfaction. "Their livery was in good repair, and their weapons bright. These were no renegades, but men-at-arms of some lord."
"And, their mission failed, they returned to their master," Magnus finished.
Puck nodded. "So indeed they did—but knew not that elfin eyes watched their every step." He grinned, preening. "I thought that I did know that livery."
"What is it then?"
"The lord's arms confirm it," Puck bragged. "He is Count Drosz, a nobleman of Hapsburg."
"Of Hapsburg?" Geoffrey frowned. "What doth he in Tudor?"
"Small good, belike," Cordelia opined.
"What dost thou think, Robin?" Magnus asked. "Doth he come to join Earl Tudor in some form of mischief?"
"Nay!" Geoffrey's eyes lit with excitement. "Belike he doth seek to join battle with Glynn, the lord of this county! Oh, Robin! A melee! Please, oh! I must follow, to watch!"
"Nay!" Puck recoiled, startled and horrified. "A lad of eight, near a battle? 'Tis too great a chance thou might be hurted!"
"Assuredly they'd not harm a child!"
Puck started to answer, then caught himself, and said only, "Thou knowest little of the ways of soldiers in wartime, lad. Nay. What should I say to thy father and mother, if thou didst come to harm?"
"But…!"
"Nay!" Puck snapped. "Let thy father escort thee near battle-lines if he will, when that he doth return! Let his conscience bear the chance of thine hurt, if he will—but I will not risk it, whiles thou art in my care! Thou art not- my son, after all."
"Praise Heaven," Geoffrey muttered as Puck turned stamping away into the forest.
The elf turned back, frowning at the children. "Now come, follow me!"
"But," Gregory pointed out, "the soldiers have gone in the other direction."
"Thou hast noticed," Puck said dryly. "Come."
Chapter 8
A little after sunrise, they came out of the forest into a meadow dotted with wildflowers. "How pretty!" Cordelia exclaimed; then, "Yon is a footpath!"
Off to their right, a dusty track wound down the slope toward the fields below.
"And people beyond it." Magnus squinted from his vantage point on Fess's back. "Eh, but they're awake betimes!"
"Country people rise before the sun," Fess informed them. "May I suggest the unicorn seek a more discreet route?"