But Magnus knew better now than to trust appearances. "I am no knight, but a squire only; I have not sought higher rank. Thou hast the right in that, if in naught else. Surely there is no truth in thy claim that I am in any wise beholden to thee for thy welfare, for thou hast played this game with many men before me."
"Mine husband lied, in saying . . ." Her hot accusation trailed off as she looked into Magnus's eyes. "Nay, thou wilt seek within my mind to prove thy contention again, wilt thou not?" she whispered.
"Nay." Magnus's lip curled. "Yet there are witnesses, I doubt not-the servants and, though thou mayest not have thought, the Wee Folk. Hast thou kept thine hearths clean, and left them their bowls of milk?" He paused, long enough to see in her face that she had not. "They owe thee no debt of gratitude, and will not lie for thee. Shall I call them to testify?"
She hesitated just long enough to realize that a warlock probably could do just that, and be answered; then she took refuge in anger again. "Thou canst not know the shame and horror of forced marriage! Of maidenly dreams of love, torn asunder by a forced coupling with an aged partner who doth inspire in thee naught but disgust!"
Magnus did feel a stirring of sympathy; he had experience that enabled him to imagine.
"I, but a lass of sixteen!" she cried. "Nay, canst thou be amazed that I found no delight in him? Can it astound thee that I took my pleasure where I might?"
Magnus did feel sorry for her, but realized it was the course of folly to admit it. "Yet thou didst take that pleasure with no thought for the hurt or shame thou didst heap upon thine husband, or even on thy lovers."
"What concern had they for me?" she demanded. "What concern hadst thou? Did any of thee care for aught but the pleasure of my body? Nay, if thou hast had shame, thou and they, thou hast had naught but thy just desserts!" She glared up at him. "Or wilt thou tell me thou hadst true concern for me?"
"Nay," Magnus admitted, "yet I do pity thee. Therefore will I conduct thee to thy father's house, and see thee safely there-yet no further."
"Oh, valiant man!" Her words dripped scorn. "O squire worthy of knighthood! Hast thou no thought for the shame that shall be mine? Aye, my father may yet grant me my dower house-yet there he will be sure that I shall live alone, apart from all folk of any degree, the jest of the other ladies, and never again to know human company-for a castoff wife is better dead!"
That, Magnus knew, was true. Medieval society was hardly generous to those who were divorced, especially females.
"It falls to thee," she snapped. "Thou wast the final cause of my humiliation. 'Tis for thee to give me place and station among my peers! 'Tis for thou to call for annulment, and to marry me! Come, carry me off! Steal me away! For there is no man but must have a woman in his charge!"
"Wherefore I, and not one of these other young men who have shared thy bed?" Magnus snapped.
"For that they have fled!"
"Why, then, so shall I. Lady, farewell!" Magnus turned his horse into the underbrush, but the crashing of scrub growth couldn't drown out her scream of rage.
He didn't go far, of course just a dozen feet off the road, just out of sight but not out of hearing. He shadowed her as she rode on down the track, weeping as though she were heartbroken. Magnus felt pity stir within him, but told himself sternly that she was not his care. Nonetheless, he followed, wanting to be sure of her safety. He endured listening to her rail against all men, cataloguing their duplicities and wickedness; he heard her vicious cries of hatred, and rejoiced that he had turned away. Nonetheless, under the circumstances, he found that he could blame himself as much as her.
Then suddenly, five men burst out of the trees, surrounding the lady and catching her horse's bridle. The palfrey reared, neighing in alarm, but the men wrestled it back down. The lady screamed, but the biggest man clapped a filthy hand over her mouth and laughed. They were all slovenly and unkempt, crusted with dirt and reeking of grime. They brayed, chortling:
"Why, what a prize is here!"
"Thou dost hate men, dost thou, sweetling? Nay, we'll give thee greater cause!"
"Thou dost wish a husband, dost thou? We'll give thee five!"
The leader took his hand from her mouth, letting forth a tearing scream that was cut off as he clamped his own mouth over hers, pricking her throat with a dagger. She froze, wideeyed in fear, not daring to close her teeth.
Magnus burst out of the roadside with a roar, laying about him with his sword. A man howled and fell with blood spreading over his nose; another bellowed and turned to fight, but flinched away with a yelp as Magnus's point scored his arm. The other three turned on Magnus with clubs and a rusty sword, but they were poorly trained indeed; he knocked their weapons aside with a dozen blows.
Then a club cracked on his shoulder, no doubt aimed for his head. He howled, and his right arm went limp. The other outlaws shouted victory and leaped for him, but Magnus reached out with his mind to twist the weapons from their hands, even as he caught an outlaw's club with his left hand and began to lay about him almost as efficiently as with his right.
"A witch!" one of the outlaws howled.
"Warlock!" Magnus bellowed, and cracked the man's pate. He laid about him, knocking down the others with three quick blows, then watched them roll about and moan, clutching at their heads, while he stood panting, only just beginning to be aware of the pain in his shoulder.
Then he turned to the lady. "They have not hurt thee, have they?"
"Nay, only filled me with loathing-thanks to thee. But thou art hurted!"
"The arm is only stunned, and will return to function presently." Magnus didn't say anything about the pain.
"I thought thou wert fled."
"I was, yet could not let thee travel at hazard. I heard thee cry, and came to ward thee. Go now to thy gate straightaway, madam, and do not tarry." He turned to the outlaws, who had regained their senses and were trying to creep away into the woods. He caught the biggest one by the front of his tunic and yanked his face up to within an inch of his own. "Get thee hence," he snarled, "and tell all thy fellows that this lady doth ride under the ward of a warrior who is a warlock as well. If any should seek to touch a hair of her head, I'll appear and cleave his pate. Dost ken what I've said, sirrah?"
The man nodded, face working in fear. "Ah-aye, milord."
"Then go!" Magnus flung him away; he staggered back, sprawling against a tree trunk. "Take thy mates," Magnus added, "and tell them what I've bade thee. Get thee hence!" The outlaw fairly yanked his companions to their feet and turned them away, with frightened glances back over their shoulders. They carried the one with the wounded leg, and disappeared into the forest.
The lady started to speak, but Magnus ignored her and rode again into the woods, hearing her scream in impotence, "Wretch! Dog! Swine!" Then she broke off weeping, and turned her horse back down the road.
Magnus hardened his heart and followed at some distance, mind open, listening for any others. Twice that afternoon he detected outlaws lying in wait, heads filled with avarice and lust, but with an underlying fear of the warlock they'd heard of. He nurtured that fright, touching their minds with a hint of nameless dread, and felt them think better of their plan, then turn away to slink back into the wood.
At length she came to her father's gate. The sentries before the drawbridge straightened in surprise and cried out, "Lady Maisy!"
Magnus turned away; she was safe now-and he didn't want to hear the anguish of her explanation to her father. He felt consumed with guilt at her suffering, since it was in part his fault-but he reminded himself that she had initiated the incident, not he, and that he was only the latest in a series of lovers she had invited. Yes, he was guilty, but not to the point of having any responsibility for her actions. Her father would have to claim a larger part of that, having forced her to marry a man she did not love-but, when all was said and done, the greatest part of the blame was her own. She had not had to retaliate by promiscuity; that had been her own decision. That, no one had made her do; she had taken it upon herself. She would have to answer for her own deeds.