The Warlock Enraged-Warlock 4 by Christopher Stasheff Page A
Authors: Christopher Stasheff
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, adventure, Fantasy, Juvenile Fiction, Epic, Science Fiction - General, Science Fiction; Fantasy; & Magic, Fiction - Science Fiction, Fantastic fiction
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mean, any witch who knows more than the basics, would recognize that spell in a moment."
Gwen shook her head, and pushed away from him. " 'Tis a mystery. Leave it for the nonce; there are others who must be wakened. Cordelia! Geoffrey, Magnus, Gregory! Hearken to my thoughts; leam what I do!" And she went to kneel by the bound soldiers. Her children gathered about her. Rod watched her for a moment, then turned back to Ariinson, shaking his head. He looked up into the man's eyes, and found them haunted.
The soldier looked away.
"Don't blame yourself," Rod said softly. "You were under a spell; your mind wasn't your own." The soldier looked up at him, hungrily.
"It's nothing but the truth." Rod gazed deeply into the man's eyes, as though staring could convince him by itself.
"Tell me—how much do you remember?"
Ariinson shuddered. "All of it, milord—Count Novgor's death, the first spell laid on us, the march to the castle, the deepening of the spell..."
Rod waited, but the soldier only hung his head, shuddering. "Go on," Rod pressed. "What happened after the deepening of the spell?"
Arlinson's head snapped up, eyes wide. "What more was there!"
Rod stared at him a moment, then said slowly, "Nothing. Nothing that you could have done anything about, soldier. Nothing to trouble your heart." He watched the fear begin to fade from the man's eyes, then said, "Let's back it up a bit. They—the warlocks, I mean—marched you all to the castle, right?"
Ariinson nodded. "Baron Strogol's castle it had been, milord." He shuddered. "Eh, but none would have known it, once they'd passed the gate house. 'Twas grown dank and sour. The rushes in the hall had not been changed in a month at the least, mayhap not since the fall, and each 44 Christopher Stasheff
window and arrow slit was shuttered, barring the daylight." Rod stored it all away, and asked, "What of the Count?" Arlinson only shook his head slowly, eyes never leaving Rod's.
Rod leaned back on one hip, fingering his dagger. "How did they deepen the spell?"
Arlinson looked away, shivering.
"I know it's painful to remember," Rod said softly, "but we can't fight this sorcerer if we don't know anything about him. Try, won't you?"
Arlinson's gaze snapped back to Rod's. "Dost thou think thou canst fight him, then?"
Rod shrugged impatiently. "Of course we can—but I'd like to have a chance of winning, too. Tell me how they deepened the spell."
The soldier only stared at him for a time. Then, slowly, he nodded. '"Twas done in this manner: They housed us in the dungeon, seest thou, and took us out from our cage, one alone each time. When my turn came, they brought me into a room that was so dark, I could not tell thee the size of it. A lighted candle stood on a table, next to the chair they sat me in, and they bade me stare at the flame." His mouth twisted. "What else was there?"
Rod nodded. "So you sat and stared at the flame. Anything else?"
"Aye; some unseen musicians played a sort of music I never had heard aforetime. 'Twas a sort of a drone, seest thou, like unto that of a bagpipe—yet had more the sound of a viol. And another unseen beat on a tambour..."
"Tap it out," Rod said softly.
The soldier stared, surprised. Then he began to slap his thigh, never taking his eyes from Rod's.
Rod recognized the rhythmn; it was that of a heartbeat.
"What else?"
"Then one who sat across from me—but 'twas so dark, I could tell his presence only by the sound of his voice—
one across from me began to speak of weariness, and sleep. Mine eyelids began to grow heavy; I remember that they drooped, and I fought against drowsiness, yet I gave into it, finally, and slept—until now." He glanced down at his
THE WARLOCK ENRAGED 45
body, seeming to see his clothing for the first time. "What is this livery?"
"We'll tell you after you've taken it off," Rod said shortly. He slapped the man on the shoulder. "Be brave, soldier. You'll need your greatest courage when you find out what's
Gwen shook her head, and pushed away from him. " 'Tis a mystery. Leave it for the nonce; there are others who must be wakened. Cordelia! Geoffrey, Magnus, Gregory! Hearken to my thoughts; leam what I do!" And she went to kneel by the bound soldiers. Her children gathered about her. Rod watched her for a moment, then turned back to Ariinson, shaking his head. He looked up into the man's eyes, and found them haunted.
The soldier looked away.
"Don't blame yourself," Rod said softly. "You were under a spell; your mind wasn't your own." The soldier looked up at him, hungrily.
"It's nothing but the truth." Rod gazed deeply into the man's eyes, as though staring could convince him by itself.
"Tell me—how much do you remember?"
Ariinson shuddered. "All of it, milord—Count Novgor's death, the first spell laid on us, the march to the castle, the deepening of the spell..."
Rod waited, but the soldier only hung his head, shuddering. "Go on," Rod pressed. "What happened after the deepening of the spell?"
Arlinson's head snapped up, eyes wide. "What more was there!"
Rod stared at him a moment, then said slowly, "Nothing. Nothing that you could have done anything about, soldier. Nothing to trouble your heart." He watched the fear begin to fade from the man's eyes, then said, "Let's back it up a bit. They—the warlocks, I mean—marched you all to the castle, right?"
Ariinson nodded. "Baron Strogol's castle it had been, milord." He shuddered. "Eh, but none would have known it, once they'd passed the gate house. 'Twas grown dank and sour. The rushes in the hall had not been changed in a month at the least, mayhap not since the fall, and each 44 Christopher Stasheff
window and arrow slit was shuttered, barring the daylight." Rod stored it all away, and asked, "What of the Count?" Arlinson only shook his head slowly, eyes never leaving Rod's.
Rod leaned back on one hip, fingering his dagger. "How did they deepen the spell?"
Arlinson looked away, shivering.
"I know it's painful to remember," Rod said softly, "but we can't fight this sorcerer if we don't know anything about him. Try, won't you?"
Arlinson's gaze snapped back to Rod's. "Dost thou think thou canst fight him, then?"
Rod shrugged impatiently. "Of course we can—but I'd like to have a chance of winning, too. Tell me how they deepened the spell."
The soldier only stared at him for a time. Then, slowly, he nodded. '"Twas done in this manner: They housed us in the dungeon, seest thou, and took us out from our cage, one alone each time. When my turn came, they brought me into a room that was so dark, I could not tell thee the size of it. A lighted candle stood on a table, next to the chair they sat me in, and they bade me stare at the flame." His mouth twisted. "What else was there?"
Rod nodded. "So you sat and stared at the flame. Anything else?"
"Aye; some unseen musicians played a sort of music I never had heard aforetime. 'Twas a sort of a drone, seest thou, like unto that of a bagpipe—yet had more the sound of a viol. And another unseen beat on a tambour..."
"Tap it out," Rod said softly.
The soldier stared, surprised. Then he began to slap his thigh, never taking his eyes from Rod's.
Rod recognized the rhythmn; it was that of a heartbeat.
"What else?"
"Then one who sat across from me—but 'twas so dark, I could tell his presence only by the sound of his voice—
one across from me began to speak of weariness, and sleep. Mine eyelids began to grow heavy; I remember that they drooped, and I fought against drowsiness, yet I gave into it, finally, and slept—until now." He glanced down at his
THE WARLOCK ENRAGED 45
body, seeming to see his clothing for the first time. "What is this livery?"
"We'll tell you after you've taken it off," Rod said shortly. He slapped the man on the shoulder. "Be brave, soldier. You'll need your greatest courage when you find out what's
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