Puck nodded, satisfied. "Now thou dost begin to comprehend. AH folk must be allowed to speak their minds, whether thou dost think them wise or foolish—and thou must weigh what they do say, on chance that the most unlikely of them may be right. Therefore thou must needs see it enshrined in the highest Law of the Land, as thy father doth seek to do. If thou dost not, evil men may keep good folk from learning of their evil deeds."

"Why, how shall they do that?" Magnus questioned.

"By punishing all who speak against them in even the slightest way," Puck explained. "If thou dost let the law prohibit certain words, then evil men will punish folk that they dislike, by claiming they did speak the words prohibited."

"So." Magnus frowned down at Phebe. "Much though we dislike what she hath done, we must not bind her over to the knight?"

"Nay, that thou mayest do—but thou canst not forbid her to speak, even though thou dost know that she will lie, and claim she did naught of what thou sayest. Thou must needs prove she did as thou dost say."

"Which we cannot, of course." Magnus's mouth tightened. "Yet is there naught we can do to keep her from working her havoc, Puck?"

"Why, warn all the lads of the village about her, of course." Puck grinned. "And if they do heed thee, she'll have naught to do but rage."

"If," Cordelia said, darkly. "Can we do naught with her, then?"

Puck shrugged. "Leave her, and let her sleep. Come, children—let us seek out her commander."

"The Shire-Reeve?" Geoffrey grinned. "Nay, then! We'll have battle from him, one way or another!"

"Where does this Shire-Reeve quarter, then?"

Magnus asked the question clearly enough, but his eyelids were drooping.

"In Luganthorpe village," Puck said, the light of the camp-fire flickering on his face. "'Tis but two hours' march, in the morning."

"What else have the elves said about him?" Cordelia stroked Gregory's hair, head pillowed in her lap. His eyes were closed; he was already asleep.

"Only that he doth gather his army of plowboys, even as Phebe did say," Puck answered, "and that he hath sallied forth against a pack of bandits in the hills."

"And be there truly so many bandits as she did say?" Geoffrey asked, between yawns.

"As many, and as quickly risen."

For a moment, Geoffrey came fully alert. "Such doth not happen without planning and readying."

"Nay, it doth not." Puck's eyes glittered. "There be some that have prepared these folk for thy parents' disappearance, children."

"Then we shall fight them!"

"That thou shalt not! 'Tis the King's place, not thine." Puck smiled. "Yet I think we may be of some small service to him…"

"Now—seize them!"

Rough hands grabbed the children; other hands whipped coils of rope around them, pinning their arms to their sides. An ugly man with a steel cap laughed into Cordelia's face. She recoiled at the reek of his breath.

A horse's scream, flashing hooves, and Fess was rearing, battering.at the steel breastplates. The men shouted in panic and leaped back.

*

"Nay!" one cried. "'Tis but a horse! Have at him!"

The others turned with shouts, two jabbing at Fess with pikes. Fess slashed at one, who leaped back; then the great horse whirled toward the other, slamming down with his full weight. The man skipped back, but a hoof grazed his shoulder and sent him spinning. Another leaped in to replace him.

"Haul those brats away!" the eldest shouted, and four other men hoisted the children.

Fess wheeled from one attacker, back toward the man holding Geoffrey, then pivoted toward the one holding Cordelia. While he did, a soldier stabbed upward with a pike. The point rang against the steel under Fess's horsehair, and the black stallion turned back toward him—but his movements had slowed. The children heard his voice in their heads: Sollldierzz… musst not take… children…

Abruptly, Fess's legs went stiff, and his head dropped down, swinging loosely from the neck, nose almost grazing the ground.

He hath had a seizure! Cordelia thought.

I shall be revenged upon these scum who have hurt him! Geoffrey's thoughts were dark with anger.

The soldiers braced themselves, eyeing the stilled horse with trepidation. Then one reached out and thrust against Fess's shoulder. When the horse didn't respond, he thrust harder. Fess rocked back, but made no reaction. "Is it dead, then?' the soldier asked.

"We'll make it so." The other soldier swung his pike up to chop with the axe-blade.

"Away!" barked the oldest man. "'Tis a witch horse; leave it. Dost thou wish to have its ghost pursue thee?"

The soldier leaped back and crossed himself quickly.

The oldest man looked about the clearing to make sure everything was under control. He was a grizzled bear of a man in his fifties. "Dost thou have them, Grobin?" he called.

"Aye, Auncient! Though they have struggled some." Gro-bin came up, holding Geoffrey and Magnus kicking and squalling one under each arm. He chuckled. "Eh, they are mettlesome lads!"

"What shall I do with this one?" A hulking man in a steel cap and breastplate came up, tossing Gregory like a ball. The child wailed in terror.

Cordelia, Geoffrey, and Magnus's gazes snapped to the thug, and he came within a hairsbreadth of death that moment.

But he never knew it, for the grizzled bear of a man they called "Auncient" said, "Why, take him to Milord Count, even as these others. Come!"

The soldiers slung the children over their shoulders as though they were bags of potatoes. Their steel-clad joints knocked the wind out of the children, but even as Geoffrey struggled for breath, his face hardened and his eyes lost focus. Magnus's thought echoed in his mind: Nay! They've done naught to merit death!

Geoffrey glared at him; but he held himself back.

Wherefore hath Puck not driven away these clods? Geoffrey demanded.

He must not see need enough, Magnus answered.

'Tis true… We are not harmed… But Geoffrey's thoughts were dark.

Peace, brother, Magnus consoled him. Thou wilt have free rein to work havoc, when we're sure these men work evil.

The soldiers trooped through patches of moonlight into a larger clearing nearby and brought the children up to a knot of horsemen. At their head sat a man in full armor, on a huge mount. As the soldiers came up, he lifted his visor. "Well done, Auncient."

"I thank you, Milord." The auncient touched his forelock in respect. "'Twas easily done, of course."

"What was that scream, and the shouting that followed it?"

"A war-horse sprang upon us—but he froze of a sudden, as though he'd been cursed." The auncient crossed himself. "Are there sorcerers in this wood, Milord?"

" 'Tis no matter, an they side with us." The nobleman was frowning down at the children. "What wast thou about, babes in the woods? How came ye here alone?"

A soldier shoved Magnus. He glared up at the nobleman. "We search for our parents."

A fist slammed into his ear, shooting pain with a loud crack. Through the ringing that followed it, he heard the auncient growl, "Speak with respect! Thou dost address the Count of Drosz!"

Magnus fought hard to control his temper and keep from hurling the knight off his horse with an unseen hand. It helped to promise himself that someday, the auncient would pay for that box on the ear—but it helped more to wonder at the nobleman's identity. "Drosz? But we are in the County of Glynn!"

"Well enough," Drosz said, with a grim smile. "He doth know his place in the countryside, if not in his rank."

"Wherefore hast thou come?" Geoffrey's gag had been removed, too.