"Small wonder," Cordelia muttered, "an they do encounter lasses like to thee!"
"Why 'tis glorious!" Geoffrey shouted. "Let us join with this Shire-Reeve! Let us, too, go forth to do battle with evil-doers and outlaws! Let it be said of us that we, too, did aid in restoring the peace!"
"I had not known it had fallen so badly," Cordelia said dryly.
"Only since Mama and Papa went away," Gregory reminded.
Magnus's gaze stayed glued to Phebe's face, but he gave his head a little shake and blinked. "Nay, tell me—what difference is there between what this Shire-Reeve doth and what the counts do? Is he not also making war, and disturbing the peace?"
Phebe frowned. "Oh, nay! He doth restore the peace!"
"By making battle?" Gregory asked.
Phebe's face darkened.
"I cannot help but think that he doth behave as badly as the counts," Magnus agreed. "Tell—doth he, too, not seek to increase the territory he doth govern? Doth he, too, not attempt to bring more villages under his sway?"
"He doth push farther and farther afield 'gainst the bandits, that's true," Phebe said, frowning. "Is this conquest?"
"Certes," Geoffrey said automatically, and Magnus said, "Battle is battle. The clash of arms and the toll of the dead is noise and destruction, whether it be thy Shire-Reeve who doth command, or the counts."
"I would rather have peace lost from armies than from bandits," Phebe declared hotly.
"I cannot like any man who fights our King and Queen," Cordelia declared, "no matter how the cause they claim doth glitter with goodness. He who fights not for Their Majesties, fights against the Law they seek to uphold." She turned to Geoffrey. "Join him? Nay, brother. If aught, thou shouldst join battle against him, and work his downfall."
Geoffrey frowned. "Dost thou truly think so?" He shrugged. "Well, then, as thou wilt. I'll not contest, when thou and Magnus do agree—the more especially when Greg-ory is of a mind with the two of thee."
Phebe gave a nasty laugh. "Hast thou no mind of thine own, then?"
"Only for matters that interest me. For affairs of state, I care not, so long as there be battle and glory within it. Nay, I'd as liefer fight against thy Shire-Reeve as for him."
Phebe laughed again, but in disbelief. "Nay, assuredly thou mayest do as thou wilt! Go, bear thy swords of lath against the Shire-Reeve! For what matter can mere children make, when armies clash?"
Cordelia's face darkened, and her chin came up. "Mayhap more matter than thou canst know, when those children are the High Warlock's brood."
Phebe stared. Then, slowly, she said, "Aye, they might, an they were such highborn children. Art thou truly they?"
Gregory tugged at Cordelia's skirt. "What is 'highborn'?"
"A deal of nonsense that grown folk speak," she answered impatiently.
"'Tis only the highborn who can think so." Phebe frowned, stroking the pouting fullness of her lower lip.
Abruptly, she seemed to come to a decision. Her face cleared, and she beamed down at the children. "Nay, surely, two fellows so brave as thyselves must needs strengthen any army! Wilt thou not, then, come with me to the Shire-Reeve?"
Her voice was velvet and silk; her heavily-lidded eyes seemed to glow into theirs. She stretched out a hand in welcome.
Magnus and Geoffrey stared at her, their eyes fairly bulging.
"Come, then," Phebe breathed, "for I am of his army, too."
Magnus took one wooden step toward her. So did Geoffrey.
"Nay!" Cordelia cried. "What dost thou? Canst not see the falseness in her?"
"Be still, small hussy," Phebe hissed.
But her brothers seemed not even to hear her. They moved toward Phebe—slowly, almost stumbling, but moving. She nodded in encouragement, eyes glowing.
Inside the children's heads, Fess's voice said, "Beware, Magnus, Geoffrey! The woman uses her beauty as she would use you!"
"Why, she cannot use us, if we fight willingly," Geoffrey muttered.
Gregory threw himself toward them, catching Geoffrey's hand. "What spell is this? Nay, turn! How hath she entranced thee?"
"Knowest thou not?" Phebe breathed. "Thou, too, art male, though very young. Wilt thou, too, not come to fight for the Shire-Reeve?"
"Nay, never!" Gregory stated. "What hast thou done?"
"Thou'lt learn when thou art older, I doubt not," Phebe said with scorn. "Away! Thou hast no worth yet! But thy brothers…" She gazed at the two elder boys, running the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. "They will come to me." She held out both hands. Gazing up at her, Magnus took one. Geoffrey took her other hand. Smiling in triumph, she turned away, strolling down the footpath with Magnus and Geoffrey to either side. She spared one quick, scornful glance back over her shoulder at Cordelia.
The forsaken sister clenched her fists. "Oh! The hussy! Quickly, Gregory! We cannot let her take our brothers!"
"But how can we stop them?" Gregory asked.
"I know not! Oh! What manner of witchcraft is this, that I have never heard of?"
"Nor never will, from the look of thee," Phebe called maliciously. But the path seemed to explode in front of her, and she pulled back with a cry of alarm.
"Puck," Magnus muttered.
Phebe cast him a quick look of horror, then stared at the elf in the pathway in front of her. "It cannot truly be!"
"Yet it is!" Puck leveled a finger at her. "And I adjure thee, witch, to break this spell! Release these boys, ere thou dost rue it!"
The threat seemed to restore Phebe a little. She straightened, looking down her nose at him. "What glamour is this!-There be no elves, nor any spirits! Thou mayest cease thine enchantment, child—I'll not believe it!" And she stepped forward on the pathway.
"Hold!" Puck's voice was a whiplash. "Ere I give thy body the semblance of thy soul, and make thy face the image of thy virtue!"
The girl blanched. "Thou couldst not truly!"
"Could I not, then?" The Puck's eyes glittered. "And art thou not the harpy who doth delight in tormenting men? What semblance wilt thou have, then?"
Slowly, Phebe's eyelids drooped, and her full lips curved into their smile. Magnus and Geoffrey stared up at her, spellbound, but her gaze was now for Puck. "Thou art male," she purred, "and great of spirit, though small of stature. Nay, then, canst thou not imagine my delights?"
Puck snorted in derision. "Nay, nor can I think thou hast any! What! Canst thou truly think thyself the equal of a fairy lady? But look into mine eyes, lass, and learn what charms may be!"
And she was looking into his eyes, of course, to try to cast her spell over him—but now she found that she could not break her gaze away.
"Now, regard," Puck said softly, coming closer. His eyes glittered as he sang,
"Golden slumbers kiss thine eyes! Do not wake till moon doth rise! Sleep, pretty wanton, do not cry, And I shall sing a lullaby! Rock her, rock her, lullaby!"
Her eyelids drooped, and kept on drooping. They closed, and she nodded, as Puck's voice went on in eldritch singing. Her head jerked up once, and she blinked, trying valiantly to stay awake—but Puck kept on singing, and her eyes closed. She sank to the ground, head pillowed on one arm, and her breast rose and fell with the slow, even rhythm of sleep.
Puck smiled down at her, gloating.
Then he turned to the two boys who stood staring dumbly down at the sleeping peasant maid, and clapped his hands in front of Magnus's face. "Waken! What! Wilt thou let a woman lead thee by the nose?"
Magnus's head snapped up as he suddenly came out of his trance.
Puck had already turned to Geoffrey. "Wake! For thou hast lost thy battle ere it began!"
Geoffrey's head whiplashed; then his eyes focused on Puck. "Battle? What fight is this?"
"Why, the struggle for thy will, my lad! What! Wilt thou let a woman lead thee into fighting for a man thou knowest to be evil?"
Geoffrey's gaze darkened. "Nay! Never would I!"
"Yet thou didst!" Cordelia came up. "Thou didst, and only Robin's rescue did save thee from it!"