King Kobold Revived

“Yet ‘twas enow.”

Rod looked up; Brother Chillde stood near them, his eyes glowing. “Thy wife, milord, and her venerable crone held off the beastmen’s power long enow.”

“Long enough for what?”

“For King Tuan to retreat back up this slope with the remnant of his soldiers, far enough so that the beastmen durst not follow. Nay, they stayed below, and began to dig their graves.”

“Theirs or ours?” Rod grated. He surged to his feet, giving Gwen’s hand a last squeeze, and strode to the brow of the hill.

A hundred feet below, the river-mouth swept into a long, gentle curve—a bow; and the beastmen were stringing that bow. They were digging, but not graves—a rampart, a fortress-line. Already, it was almost complete. Rod looked down and swore; they’d have a hell of a time trying to dig the beastmen out of that!

Then he saw what lay on the near side of the rampart—a jumbled row of bloody bodies, in the royal colors.

Rod swore again. Then he spat out, “They had to be pla

“Do not berate thyself so severely, Lord Warlock,” Tuan said wearily behind him. “ ‘Twas not thy absence that defeated us.”

“Oh?” Rod glared up at him. “Then what was it?”

Tuan sighed. “The power of their Kobold, like as not!”

“Not!” Rod whirled away to glare down at the beach. “Definitely ‘not’! That Kobold of theirs can’t be anything but a wooden idol, Tuan! It’s superstition, sheer superstition!”

“Have it as thou wilt.” Tuan shrugged his shoulders. “It was the beastmen’s Evil Eye, then. We did not think its power would be so great, yet it blasted our witches’ minds and froze our soldiers in their tracks. Then the beastmen slew them at their leisure.”

‘’ ‘Twas the lightning,‘’ Agatha grated in a hollow voice.

Tuan turned toward her, frowning. “What goodly beldam is this, Lord Warlock? Our debt to her is great, yet I wot me not of her name.”

“That’s just ‘cause you haven’t been introduced. She’s, uh, well… she’s kinda famous, in her way.”

Agatha grimaced, squinting against a throbbing headache. “Temporize not, Lord Warlock. Be direct, e’en though it may seem evil. Majesty, I am called ‘Angry Agatha.’ ” And she inclined her head in an attempt at a bow.

Tuan stared, and Rod suddenly realized that the King was young enough to have heard some nasty nursery tales himself. But Tuan was never short on courage; he forced a smile, took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and stepped up to the old lady. “I must needs thank thee, revered dame, for without thee, my men and I had been naught but butcher’s meat.”

Agatha peered up at him through narrowed eyes; then slowly she smiled. “Mine head doth split with agony, and I ache in every limb; yet would I do this service again for so handsome a thanking.” The smile faded. “Aye, or even without it; for I think that I have saved some lives this day, and my heart is glad within me.”

Tuan stood, gazing down at her for a moment.

Then he cleared his throat and turned to Rod. “What ma

“Not this one, it turns out,” Rod said slowly. “She just hated the way people treated her…”

“Oh, still thy prattle!” Agatha snapped. “I do hate all men, and all women, too, Majesty—unless I’m near them.”

Tuan turned back to her, nodding slowly with glowing eyes. “Now, God save thee! For hypocrisy such as thine would confound the very Devil! Praise Heaven thou wert here!”

“And curse me that I wasn’t!” Rod snapped, turning to glower down at the entrenched beastmen.

“Again thou hast said it!” Tuan cried, exasperated. “What ails thee, Lord Warlock? Why dost thou say that thou wert absent, when thou wert here in truth, and fought as bravely as any—aye, and more!”

Rod froze.

Then he whirled about. “What!”

“Thou wast here, indeed.” Tuan clamped his jaw shut. “Thou wert here, and the beastmen could not freeze thee.”

“I’ truth, they could not!” Brother Chillde cried, his face radiant. “Thou didst sweep across their line, Lord Warlock, like unto a very tempest, laying about thee with thy sword of flame. Five at a time thou didst grapple with, and conquer! Their whole line thou didst confound and craze! And ’twas thou who didst give heart unto our soldiers, and didst prevent their retreat from becoming a rout.”

“But… that’s impossible! I…”

“ ‘Tis even as he doth say, my lord.” Gwen’s voice was low, but it carried. “From this hilltop did I see thee far below; and ’twas thou who didst lead, even as this good friar saith.”

Rod stared at her, appalled. If she didn’t know him, who did?

Then he turned away, striding down the back of the hill.

“Hold, Lord Warlock! What dost thou seek?” Tuan hurried to keep pace with him.

“An on-the-spot witness,” Rod grated. “Even Gwen could be mistaken from a distance.”

He skidded to a stop beside a knot of soldiers who huddled under the protection of a rocky overhang. “You there, soldier!”

The soldier lifted his tousled blond head, holding a scrap of cloth to a long rent in his arm.

Rod stared, amazed. Then he dropped to one knee, yanking the cloth off the wound. The soldier yelled, galvanized. Rod glanced up and felt his heart sink; surely that face belonged to a boy, not a man! He turned back to the wound, inspecting it. Then he looked up at Tuan. “Some brandywine.”

“ ‘Tis here,” the young soldier grated.

Rod looked down and saw a bottle. He poured a little on the cut and the soldier gasped, long and with a rattle, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. Rod tore open his doublet and tore a strip of cloth from his singlet. He held the wound closed and began to wrap the bandage around it. “There’s a lot of blood, but it’s really just a flesh wound. We’ll have to put some stitches in it later.” He looked up at the young ranker. “Know who I am?”

“Aye,” the young man gasped. “Thou’rt the Lord High Warlock.”

Rod nodded. “Ever seen me before?”

“Why, certes! Thou didst stand beside me in the melee! Thou wert then no farther from me than thou art now!”

Rod stared up at him. Then he said, “Are you sure? I mean, absolutely sure?”

“Nay, be sure that I am! Had it not been for the sight of thee, I’d ha’ turned and fled!” Then his eyes widened and he glanced quickly at his companions, flushing; but they only nodded somber agreement.

“Take heart.” Tuan slapped his shoulder. “Any would have fled such a battle, an they could have.”

The young soldier looked up, finally realized the King himself stood near, and almost fainted.

Rod grasped his shoulder. “You saw me, though. You really did see me.”

“Truly, my lord.” The young man’s eyes were wide. “I’ truth, I did.” He lowered his eyes, frowning. “And yet—’tis strange.”

“Strange?” Rod frowned. “Why?”

The young soldier bit his lip; then the words spilled out. “Thou didst seem taller in the battle—by a head or more! I could have sworn thou didst tower above all soldiers there! And thou didst seem to glow…”

Rod held his eyes for a moment longer.

Then he went back to wrapping the bandage. “Yeah, well, you know how it is during a battle. Everything seems bigger than it really is—especially a man on a horse.”

“Truth,” the young soldier admitted. “Thou wast astride.”

“Right.” Rod nodded. “Big roan horse.”

“Nay, milord.” The young soldier frowned. “Thy mount was black as jet.”

“Calm down, Rod,” Fess’s voice murmured, “you are beside yourself.”

“I am?” Rod looked around in a panic.