"Never think it!" Geoffrey insisted, and Magnus nodded, his face hard. "It would have bitten thee with teeth hard and sharp, and devoured thee with an actual hunger. 'Twas real enough, sister—real enough."

It was still dark when Kelly shook them, one by one, calling softly, "Wake. The sun rises over the pastureland, children, even though ye see it not. We must begin the day's journey. Wake!"

The children rolled over with an assortment of groans. "But we were awake so late last night, Kelly," Gregory pleaded.

"And 'twas quite wearying," Geoffrey seconded.

"Wearying! Sure and I thought ye did love a good fight!"

"I do," the boy yawned, "yet 'tis wearying nonetheless.!'

"Wherefore ought we to wake, when Puck doth not?" Magnus groused.

"He rose up before ye, and went ahead to spy out the countryside. Ye'll not go unwarned into danger again, says he! So come, awake!"

"Let me sleep a bit more," Cordelia murmured, burrowing her head back into her rolled-cape pillow.

But a velvet nose nuzzled her cheek, and she looked up to see the unicorn standing over her, silver in the dark. With a glad cry, she leaped up to throw her arms about the creature's neck.

The boys rose more slowly, but with much chivying, Kelly managed to persuade the children to wash. With a splash of cold water on their faces and a double handful of wild berries in their stomachs, they felt bright enough to trudge out of the forest.

They came into pastureland, and the cool, moist air, coupled with the sight of the early sun, raised their spirits enough so that they began singing as they wended their way down a cow-track, with Fess, who had finally found them again after their adventure with the troll, trudging contentedly behind them. Geoffrey even felt lively enough to fly a few. feet every other bar.

At the top of his third flight, he suddenly fell silent and

dropped back to earth hissing, "Hush! 'Tis four hulking thieves, or I mistake quite!"

Gregory bobbed up to take a look, but Magnus caught him by the ankles and hauled him back down. "Nay! If there be evil men, it most becomes children to be unseen and unheard!"

They went forward in silence, stealing into the hedgerow at the edge of the field and peeking out. They saw a dusty road. Off to their right, it met another such track to form a cross-road, marked by a huge stone cross. To their left, four beefy men came swaggering along, guffawing and bellowing.

"Eh, but didn't he run, though!"

'"Twas well for him, or we'd have left his carcass for crow-meat!"

"Nay, nay! We could ha' guv him as fancy a funeral as any village priest!"

"Surely we could have—he'd paid dearly enough for it." The biggest man chortled and held up a leather bag as big as his head.

"Aye," growled the shortest and most burly man, "yet we've not split it up into shares! And if I don't have mine soon, Borr, 'tis your corpse we'll bury, not his!"

Anger sparked in the eyes of the man called Borr, but he managed to smother it under a cardboard smile. "Eh, now! Would I cheat ye, Morlan?"

"Only an I did let ye," Morlan rumbled.

The anger glinted in Borr's eyes again, but he managed to keep the smile in place. "Why, comrade! Never would I! 'Tis only that we did need to be far enough from the ambush, lest that fat merchant might summon the Reeve!"

"So ye said," one of the other thugs growled, "but we're far enough now."

"Aye." Morlan pointed at the stone cross. "Yon's Arlesby Cross. 'Tis two miles we've come. Is that not enough?"

"Aye, 'tis indeed!" Borr agreed. "And there's the offering-stone before the rock! Others may leave food for the fairies on it—but 'tis in my mind 'twill make an excellent counting-table for us! Come, comrades!"

The four men strolled up to the cross.

They are robbers! Gregory thought.

Thieves, who've robbed a fat merchant, Geoffrey agreed.

'Tis outrage! Cordelia's thoughts were fiery. What harm had that poor man done them?

Ask rather, who would harm them for robbing him? Geoffrey retorted.

Magnus set his hand on his dagger.

A small hand grasped his thumb with an iron grip. "Nay!" Kelly hissed. "Ye cannot save the poor merchant now—his gold's already stolen!"

"We might return it to him," Magnus pointed out.

" 'Tis not worth hazarding yerselves!"

" 'Tis no hazard," Geoffrey grated.

"Mayhap ye are right—yet reflect! The Puck is not by ye now, if ye're wrong!"

Geoffrey hesitated.

The four robbers squatted down around the offering-stone, and Borr upended the bag. Coins tumbled out, and the men hooted delight.

"One for ye, Morlan!" Borr shoved a gold piece toward the squat man. "And one for ye, Gran—and one for ye, Croll…"

"And all for me!" rumbled a voice like the grinding of a mill wheel. Out from behind the stone cross he came—eight-feet tall at least, and four-feet across the shoulders. His arms were thick as tree trunks, and his legs were pillars. The cudgel he swung in his right hand was as big as Magnus, and probably heavier. His shaggy black hair grew low on his forehead; his eyes seemed small in his slab of a face, and his grin showed yellowed, broken teeth. "Nay, then!" he boomed. "Bow down, wee men! 'Tis your master Groghat who speaks!"

The robbers stared at him for one terrified instant. Then they leaped up and ran—except for Morlan, who swept the coins back into the bag before he turned to flee.

Groghat caught him by the back of his collar and yanked him off his feet. Morlan squalled in terror, and Groghat plucked the moneybag out of his hands before he threw him after his mates. Morlan howled as he shot through the air, spread-eagled, and Borr yowled in pain as Morlan crashed into him. Gran and Croll, the fourth robber, kept running, but Groghat passed them in a few huge loping strides and slewed to a halt, facing them with a scowl and a lifted bludgeon. "I bade thee bow!"

Gran faced him, knees trembling and face ashen. Slowly, he bent his back in a bow—but Croll whirled toward the trees at the side of the road.

Groghat's club slammed into the man's belly, and the rob-ber fell, curled around the agony in his midriff, mouth spread wide, struggling for the breath that would not come. The giant stood over him, glowering down at Morlan and Borr.

Slowly, they bowed.

"'Tis well," Groghat rumbled. "Be mindful henceforth—I am thy master. Whatsoe'er thou dost steal, thou shalt bring three parts out of four unto me."

"Nay!" Morlan bleated. "'Tis we who do steal it, we who run the risk of a hang…"

The huge club slammed into his ribs and something cracked. He fell, screaming.

"And do not seek to withhold aught," Groghat bellowed over the noise, "for I shall know, soon or late, who hath taken what, and shall find thee wheresoe'er thou dost roam!"

"Nay!"

"Nay, Groghat, we never would!"

"Three parts out of four to thee, Groghat, ever, henceforth!"

The giant glared down at them, nodding slowly. "See thou dost not forget." He nudged Morlan with his foot. "Take thy fools, and be gone."

"Aye, Groghat! Even as thou sayest!" Gran knelt to pull Morlan's arm over his,shoulders. Morlan screamed in pain.

Borr stood looking up at the giant. He was trembling, but he plucked up his courage to ask, "Art not afeard of Count Glynn? Assuredly, thou art mighty—but how wilt thou fare an he doth come against thee with an hundred men, armored?"

Groghat laughed, a sound like marbles rolling down a sheet of iron, and pulled something out of the wallet that hung from his belt. "Look and see!" he bellowed.

Borr took a hesitant step, eyeing Groghat warily.