Warlock and Son

9

They saw the peasants to the edge of the forest. When they could see the cleared land through the trees, Rod stopped. "You're safe now. You'll be out of the forest in another ten minutes." He reached into his purse and came out with a handful of silver coins. Distributing them, he said, "Use these wisely, and they'll get you a fresh start. Good luck."

"Good fortune to you all," Magnus said, and without waiting for an answer, turned and strode away, back into the forest. Rod looked up after him, taken aback, then turned to finish the goodbyes before he hurried after his son. Fess paced along behind him, ever faithful-but ever tactful, too. Father and son needed to talk in private, if at all.

Rod caught up with Magnus and panted, "A little abrupt, wasn't that?"

"They had had all they needed of us, my father," Magnus said, his face grim, "and more than they may have deserved." Rod guessed that Hester had taken a stronger hold on the young man's fancy than he had let show.

"If thou art so concerned for them," Magnus went on, "wherefore dost thou not accompany them to the nearest village, and see them set up in their new lives?"

Rod glanced back over his shoulder. "I should, I suppose-and I should take them to the Abbot, for that matter. But I find I'm not ready to come out of the trees yet."

"Nor am I," Magnus said shortly. "In truth, I am not ready for human converse, either. If thou wilt excuse me, my father, I must needs walk alone awhile." And he increased his pace, swinging off through the trees.

Rod slowed to a halt, watching after his son. "Touchy, touchy," he murmured, but wondering if it should perhaps have been "Touche, touche." He was being a bit of a nosy parent, he supposed-and the kid was a grown man now, and able to take care of himself.

All but his heart ...

"Shall we follow him, Rod?"

Rod almost jumped out of his skin, then looked up to see the great black horse coming up beside him. "Follow? Of course not! It's just that, coincidentally, I happen to be going in the same direction. Think we can find a path, Fess?"

Disgusted with himself and the rest of the human race, Magnus paced through the trees, hoping to tire himself enough to be rid of the restless energy that seemed to push him onward. He did not notice that the leaves had begun to fall, or that occasional glimpses of sky showed leaden. He paced forward, not particularly caring where he was going, reviewing his most recent disasters. The witch of the tower, who had sought to entrap him by lust pure and simple; the Queen of Elfland, who had sought to bind him to her service by promises never stated nor meant to be kept (he wondered about the reality of that episode); Hester, a shallow and blatant flirt who sought to attract him just long enough to use him as her means of escape....

"A rag, a bone!"

Magnus looked up, startled, apprehension coiling through him.

He came weaving his way between the trees, crying out, "A rag, a bone! Aught thou dost not wish, I'll have! A rag, a bone!" He stopped next to Magnus, gri

It was the ragpicker, of course.

"Not a whit," Magnus said, through stiff lips.

"Eh, now! Come! Thou hast a weakness for the ladies, hast thou not? Thou hast no use for it-it hath brought thee naught but misery! Give it over, young master, give it over to me! Lose thine Achilles' heel-though 'tis scarcely thy heel, is't now? Lose it to me, and gain invulnerability for thine heart!"

Magnus was shocked to realize that he was sorely tempted. The notion of emotional invulnerability had become very appealing.

"Thrice before have I exhorted thee," the ragpicker reminded. "Thrice hast thou refused me-and gained sore pain as the price of thy stubborness."

"Thou wilt exact a greater price yet," Magnus ground out, though he no longer believed it.

Indeed, the ragpicker was shaking his head. "There is no price but the armor itself, young wizard. Come! Wilt thou not accept another's magic? Or must thou be hurted yet again, and again once more?"

For a moment, Magnus almost gave in, for something within him clamored for that imperviousness with an intensity that left him shaken. Perhaps for that reason he steeled himself against the pull and forced out the words. "Away with thee! Avaunt! And trouble me never again!"

The ragpicker sighed. "Ah, the suspicious nature of this younger generation. Well enough, lad, even as thou wiltyet I'll come again, when thou shalt need what I offer. Farewell!" He turned away, sauntering back into the forest and calling out, "A rag, a bone!"

Magnus watched after him, hearing his cries grow fainter, then cease, wondering all the while if he had been wise or foolish to turn down the fellow's offer. He would be well served indeed never again to be susceptible to a woman's charms, never to fall into the traps of love, never again to be used as a woman's plaything....

But, no, he reminded himself as he started walking again. No, he wanted to fall in love, wanted the true, deep intimacy that could exist only between a man and a woman, to have the peace and security of heart that he saw in his parents, in King Tuan and Queen Catharine, and with a few other couples he had watched as he grew. . . .

Peace?

Well, his parents had had their episodes, that was true. Marriage was not an end to a struggle, but a begi

No. He had to admit that, looking within himself, he was no longer eager for it. He had come to realize that the chances of being hurt, badly hurt-maimed even-in a place not even he himself could see, were too great. To take a risk like that would require a rare woman indeed, a gentle, tender but strong, loving, giving woman who would pay greater heed to him than to herself-and one with whom, moreover, he would be well and truly in love, even as she would be with him-and he had begun to wonder whether such a woman could exist. In fact, he wondered if he would ever meet a woman who could love him for himself alone, not for the social position or wealth he could give her-a woman who could love without seeking to use him.

He stopped stock-still, struck by a sudden realization. He could never find such a woman as long as he lingered in Gramarye, where everyone knew him as the son of the High Warlock, destined for power and wealth. No. No woman could meet him here without thinking how he could bring her to the most influential post in the land. Of course they could not love him for himself alone--they couldn't even come that far in their consideration!

Which meant he would have to leave Gramarye.

He shied from the notion-it was unthinkable! Though as soon as he had thought of it, a yearning welled up in him, to be someplace where no one would know him as anything but Magnus, just Magnus, by himself, alone, and able to establish his own reputation ...

And discover his own abilities?

He shrugged the matter off and paced away through the forest all the harder, grim and angry.

Then, suddenly, the trees opened out into a meadow, gay with autumn flowers and the colors of the changing leaves. It struck him with a shock that, this year, he hadn't even noticed when the trees had begun to turn.

Then a woman stepped out from the glory of those leaves, and they faded into insignificance. Magnus stared, suddenly aware of her, and only of her. Her gown clung to her, showing how her thighs threshed as she walked; her whole body moved with each step; evoking the thought of sensuous music. Her hair was long and jet-black, her figure perfect (and the gown clung in just the places to make that clear). She was delicate, small-boned, and with a face finely featured, stepping so lightly that she scarcely seemed to touch the meadow grass. She reminded Magnus of the Faerie Folk of Tir Chlis, though she was nowhere near as tall, nor so elongated in form-almost as though she were a child of their kind. Then she came close enough so that he could see her eyes clearly, and she seemed even more like those eldritch creatures-for those huge orbs were at once gay and sad, and wild, wild. They held his gaze, those eyes, and he lost all awareness of himself, knowing only that she was the most entrancing woman he had ever seen, and that all he wanted was to be with her.