"He is a witch-child!"

"Aye—yet which child?" Hugh fixed Gregory with a glare. "What is thy name?"

"Gr-Gregory. G-Gallowglass."

Bertram, Hugh, and their mates locked gazes. Together, they all nodded. " 'Tis the one we've been sent for."

Fear stabbed through Gregory, horror welling in behind it. What had he done?

Then he caught something odd, and the horror receded. He frowned. "Thy garb is motley. How canst thou be sent?"

Six gazes whipped back to him. "What?"

"Thy garb," Gregory repeated. "Thou dost not wear livery. Thou dost wear each colors that differ one from another. Thou art not, then, all of one lord's company; therefore no lord can have sent thee."

The men exchanged glances again. "'Tis even as we've said," one snarled. " 'Tis a witch-brat."

"Aye! Let us slay him and be done with it!"

"Slay?" Gregory gasped, and his mind screamed, Magnus! Cordelia! Geoffrey! Aid me! "Why! Wherefore wouldst thou slay me? I have done thee no harm!"

"I would not be sure o' that, sin that thou art a witch's brat," Bertram snarled. "If thou hast such power as thou dost show, how canst thou not harm me?"

Gregory stared, made speechless by absurdity—and in his mind, Magnus's voice soothed, Courage, brother.

Oh, Gregory…!

Bide, Cordelia! Gregory, we dare not leap upon them, lest they strike at thee.

Yet if they do strike, thou must flit! Geoffrey added. If thou dost bear two great hulking brutes with thee, fear not! We shall deal with them!

If thou canst, Magnus agreed. Yet we'll seek to come upon thee, if we may; 'tis more sure. Do thou keep them occupied in talk, the whiles we do stalk them.

Gregory swallowed heavily, reassured, but still frightened. "Is that wherefore thou wouldst slay me?"

"Nay," Hugh growled. "For that, 'tis a matter of money, lad—pure silver. Living comes hard, to we who have fled to the greenwood. We must take food, or coin, where it comes."

They are soldiers who have deserted their lords! Geoffrey's thought was scandalized and enraged. 'Ware, lad! For an they did flee their posts, belike 'twas for that they'd committed heinous crimes!

Thou dost not aid, Magnus thought, exasperated. Gregory, lad! They do wish to talk! Ask, accuse! But keep them in speech!

Keep them in speech! How? But Gregory plucked up his courage, and tried. "How—how will slaying me, gain thee silver? I have none!"

"A thought," growled another soldier, and he patted Gregory quickly down both sides, then shook his head. " 'Tis as he doth say—he hath no purse."

"Surely not, Clodog!" said Hugh in disgust. "'Tis but a lad, when all's said and done."

" 'Tis a fee," Bertram explained. "They have hired us to slay thee—and thy sister and brothers."

Gregory felt a cold chill spread out from his spine. "Yet— how canst thou know who to slay?"

"Why, the High Warlock's children!" Hugh replied. "How could we mistake thee? All in Gramarye do know of thee— three warlock-lads and a witchling!"

Gregory tried to ignore the mental squawks of rage. "Who —who could have hired thee? Who doth hate us so?"

"Any of thy father's enemies, I warrant," Bertram snorted.

Hugh shrugged. "Who can say who they were? We know only mat three slight, meager men with burning eyes did come

to us, give us silver, and promise us more if we slew thee." He shook his head sadly. " 'Tis a pity—thou dost seem a good enough lad."

"An he were not a warlock," Clodog growled.

"Still, we have need of the silver," Bertram grunted, and he whipped a dagger up.

"Nay, hold!" Gregory stared at the naked blade, terrified. "An they will pay thee silver to slay us, Papa will pay thee more to spare us!"

The dagger hovered, but hesitated. "More?"

"Gold!" Gregory cried in desperation.

"Yet who will pay it?" Hugh scoffed. "Thy father is vanished! So the meager men did say—and so say all we have heard by the roadside!"

"The King!" Gregory gasped. "King Tuan will ransom us!"

The thugs exchanged glances again. "Belike he will," Bertram said slowly. " 'Tis known how the King doth treasure his warlocks."

"I mislike the thought." Another bandit darted glances about the thicket, as though expecting to see King's men pushing through the brambles.

"Eh, he'll not come himself," Hugh growled. "Dost thou think a king to be a page? Nay, belike he'll send a knight."

"With men-at-arms!"

"We'll bid him not to."

Gregory sighed with relief, going limp. Then he saw the glint in Hugh's eye and tensed again.

"Wherefore ought we to take gold for one, when we may have gold for four?" Hugh purred.

Gregory watched him, feeling like a sparrow beset by a snake.

The dagger whipped about and down, its point pricking Gregory's throat. He gasped in horror and froze.

"Call thy brother," Hugh breathed.

Gregory stared at him, wide-eyed. Magnus! He doth wish thee to come, too! Do not—'tis danger!

Mayhap, Magnus thought slowly, yet not for us.

The dagger twisted, pricking deeper. "There is blood on thy throat," Hugh growled. "Summon him!"

Air boomed. Even though they'd known it was coming, the thugs flinched away. Geoffrey stood beside his little brother, his lip twisted with contempt. "He hath summoned. What wilt thou have of me?"

Hugh reddened, and stepped forward again. "What! Is there no more than this?"

Geoffrey set his jaw, eyes narrowing. "Aye, there do be more Gallowglass children. Art truly so foolish as to wish us all here?"

Huge hands seized him, and Hugh snarled, " 'Tis thou who art foolish. Summon thy brother!"

"Be not so hasty," Geoffrey sneered. "I do marvel thou hast the courage for it, sin that thou wast so craven as to flee thy lord!"

The back of Hugh's hand cracked into his cheek. "Mind thy tongue, when thou dost speak to thy betters! Now summon thy Brother!"

"On thy head be it, then," Geoffrey gasped, and thought, Come, brother! The lambs are led to the pen!

Magnus was there, in a crack of thunder. He nodded to Hugh with grave courtesy. "My sibs tell me thou dost wish speech with us."

The soldiers stared, frozen.

Magnus nodded, with sympathy. "Aye, 'tis unnerving. My father hath said he shall never become accustomed to such flittings in and out."

Bertram swore, and set the edge of his dagger against Magnus's throat.

"Hold!" Hugh barked. "We lack yet one!"

"What—my sister? Wouldst thou slay lasses also?"

"Do not seek to school me." Hugh's eyes narrowed. "What I must needs do for a living, I must needs do."

"Thou mayest yet live without slaying children."

Hugh turned and spat. "Hiding in thickets? Sleeping on bracken? Eating roots and berries and, with good fortune, the meat of a badger? 'Tis not what I would call living! For that, I need gold."

"Which thou wilt gain by my blood?"

"Aye, and thy liver and lights, if need be!" Hugh roared. "Now summon thy sister!"

Magnus sighed, and closed his eyes.

Save thine effort. Rage imbued Cordelia's thoughts. I flit to thee already!

And Robin?

He hath gone before, with Kelly! Fess stands ready, too, if needed, but I shall leave my sweet unicorn behind.

"She comes," Magnus reported, "yet more slowly; lasses cannot appear and disappear."

"We'll be done with thee, then," Hugh snarled, and nodded to Bertram. The brute grinned and yanked the dagger back for a stab.

Gregory bleated and twisted; his brothers shouted as his body whiplashed, slamming the thugs who held him against the ground. Bertram's dagger stabbed into bare dirt.

Then a tearing scream pierced their ears, and a missile shot down from the sky to slam into Bertram, knocking him backwards. "Foul beast!" the ten-year-old witch cried. "Wouldst thou then slay babes?"