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Nearby were eight saddled deer and eight deer attached to a large wagon.
"We'll ride in," Sharts said, interpreting Hank's gaze correctly.
He introduced Hank, Je
The Rare Beast said in his piping voice, "Sharts and I could do this by ourselves. But Glinda said no, and what Glinda wants, Glinda gets."
"Besides," Balthii said, "if you didn't obey her, you wouldn't get pardoned for your crimes."
"What crimes?" Sharts roared.
The deer jumped, the hawks screeched, the owl hooted, and some of the men backed away.
"How'd you like your neck wrung like a bell?" the Rare Beast squeaked.
"Now, now," Hank said, raising his hand. "There's no need to get upset. I'm sure that Balthii meant no insult. Right, Balthii?"
"Most certainly not."
"Well, it was very personal," Sharts rumbled. "Watch your big mouth, hawk, or I'll twist your beaks so much they'll look like a corkscrew."
"How would you like to kiss the south end of a duck going north?" Balthii said, and she winged off before Sharts could catch her.
Hank moaned, and he muttered, "We'll all kill each other before we get off the meadow."
He spoke to Sharts. "As Glinda's official representative, I apologize for any remarks Balthii made. You know how those hawks are."
Sharts grunted.
Unwaz, the leader of the Gillikin hawks, said, "And just how are we hawks?"
"Proud!" Hank said quickly. "Proud! And also, I mean no offense, somewhat touchy, uh, I mean, very sensitive."
Balthii had flown back to her roost on the edge of the windshield. She said, "We're all, myself included, acting foolishly. If Glinda were here, she'd chew us out. I suggest that, from now on, we stick strictly to business. I am sorry, Sharts, if I hurt your feelings. I won't do it again, I promise."
Hank thought, I'd crack up if I was a professional diplomat. I'd like to bust this guy in the chops. Maybe I will after it's all over. Only... that wouldn't be very intelligent. He could probably beat hell out of me with one hand tied behind his back. I might try it, anyway.
"We have to settle one thing before we get started," Sharts said. He glared around him. "There seems to be some confusion about who's in command here. Glinda's messenger told me that I was."
Hank's back was to Sharts because he had been removing the BAR box magazines from the front cockpit. He turned, unable to speak for a moment because of rage. Glinda had made it clear that he was the chief. Sharts was lying. Or maybe he wasn't. Maybe he really believed that the hawk had given him that message. He was such an egomaniac; he would reconstruct the past to fit his self-image.
"You know the territory," Hank said. "I don't. You're the leader. Lead on, Macduff!"
"Makduuf?"
"An English word. It means ‘son of a...' I forget of what. Macduff was a great man."
He walked over to Je
"O.K." the airplane said. "However, I have complete confidence in you, Hank. I'll be ready when you come back."
"If I do, I'll probably be ru
"Who?"
"The world's, my world's, greatest sprinter. Listen. I've instructed the farmer on how to prime your carburetor. It's a good thing you have enough energy to spin the propeller yourself. These Gillikins are too short; he'd have to stand on a stool, and he might get cut in half."
"I'm not stupid, you know. I won't forget."
Hank patted her cowling, said, "Another prima do
"What?"
"Onward, ever onward and upward! You may fire when ready, Gridley! Let's go!"
Sharts spoke softly, for him, and the deer began pulling the wagon. He was silent for a moment, then said, "If you think you're showing off by speaking in that barbarous tongue of yours, if you think that doing it somehow makes me look less knowledgeable..."
"Heavens forbid!" Hank said. "It's just that I'm tense, and when I'm nervous, I tend to use my native language. No offense meant."
Sharts grunted and began whistling again. They passed from the meadow onto a narrow dirt road and headed south. Blogo the Rare Beast rode a deer ahead of the party and flashed his bull's-eye lantern on the road. The only other light was hanging from a hook in the body of the wagon. Hank, looking back into the wagon, saw some boxes and a large paper-covered package. One box held arrows; the second, his BAR ammunition; a third, three blackpowder grenades.
"What's in the package?" he said.
"My shirts."
"There's nothing like being clean," Hank said.
"Is that supposed to be sarcastic?" Sharts said.
"No, I sent my sarcasm out to the cleaners, and it didn't come back before I could leave," Hank said.
The dim light showed the giant's half-scowling, half-puzzled expression.
Finally, Sharts said, "I think you and I are going to have a talk when this is over."
"It'll be nice to know you better," Hank said.
After five miles, the party turned onto a broader but just as rough and rutted road. They began passing more farmers' houses, most of which were dark. Hank was glad that there weren't any dogs in this world. If there had been, the farmers' hounds would have been barking for miles around. Or would they? They would be sentient and so, supposedly, would wait until they were sure that they had something that needed barking at. On the other hand, instinct was stronger in the beasts, and the dogs might be barking their fool heads off.
When about ten miles had passed and another road taken, the caravan halted. Fresh deer came out of a woods to replace the tired ones.
Hank said, "The local animals must know these deer have been hanging around here. Didn't they ask questions?"
"They're not all as nosey as you," Sharts said. "However, these deer didn't come here in a body and so attract undue attention. They were recruited by Glinda's hawks long ago. When they got the word, they left their herds and assembled here."
"I wonder how long ago Glinda made these arrangements."
"I don't know. Probably before Erakna became queen."
The late Witch of the North had been Glinda's good friend. Yet Glinda had set up means to get into the castle undetected. Had Glinda gone by the precept that two rulers can only be friends as long as the political situation permits it? Or had Glinda really trusted Wulthag but had been wise enough to anticipate that her successor might be hostile? Whatever Glinda's reasons, she had been right to do what she had done.
But that made Hank wonder if Wulthag had also been foreseeing enough to have made similar arrangements for secret access into Glinda's castle. However, Glinda would have thought of that. She would have made an intensive search of the castle and the surrounding area.
But if Glinda could plan this, Erakna could suspect it. Thus, Erakna may have looked for secret routes into her castle, found them, and now have them well-guarded or booby-trapped or both.
At this thought, Hank began to sweat even though the mountain air was begi
They were passing through land where the farms were side by side now, and they went through two small villages. Few of the houses were lit up; almost everybody was in bed. In the distance were some clusters of lights, the torches and big lamps on the towers and walls that surrounded Wugma.
They also passed a sight that made Hank even more nervous. It was a tree from which dangled the stinking bodies of six men and a raccoon.
"Spies or rebels," Sharts said, and he resumed whistling.
"I don't think so," Balthii said from Hank's shoulder. "If they'd been spies, they would have been taken to Wugma and tortured. They must be rebels. Or maybe they're just common criminals."