Geoffrey grinned. "Why, what a fox you are!"
"Do you not mean, a vixen?"
"I doubt it not," Geoffrey assured her, and managed to restrain himself from telling her that he enjoyed hunting. "But what of your brothers? Did they not find it galling to take orders from their little sister?"
"Nay." There was a gentle amusement, perhaps even tenderness, in her tone. "They knew enough of command to realize that if they challenged my leadership, the outlaws would cease to respect me and would desert one by one—and they knew also that it was better to have an outlaw band, than to be beset by one."
"Wisely thought," Geoffrey said, with approval. "Did they tell you this?"
"Aye, when I demanded to know. 'Twas two days after the raid on the castle, look you, and I had braced myself for them to come to me all three together to say, 'You have done bravely, sister, but now you may sit back safely and leave all to us.' "
"What would you have said if they had?"
"I would have told them that I had won the outlaws' obedience, through fear if nothing else, and that if I were to step aside, they would have to win that obedience all over again."
"You would have held onto what you had won, then."
"Aye." Quicksilver's smile turned predatory. "I had begun to enjoy the taste of power."
"It does whet the appetite," Geoffrey agreed. "Did not your brothers hunger after it?"
"'Of course,' my eldest brother told me. 'Who does not? But we have discussed the matter, sister, and are all agreed that you will be our surest route to power.' "
"So simple as that?" Geoffrey asked, amazed.
"Aye. Mayhap they thought of me as a useful tool, but if so, they have not sought to master that tool. I think, though, that they were sincere—and I know they are proud of me." She smiled, a glow in her eyes.
"I doubt it not," Geoffrey assured her. "I would be proud of such a sister." He looked up, thinking over that statement.
"Have you such a sister?" Quicksilver asked.
"Aye, now that I think of it—though Cordelia fights with magic, where you fight with steel. And I am proud of her."
"But do you seek to rule her?"
Geoffrey gave a bark of laughter at the thought and shook his head. "I would never dream of it—but if I did, I would be grasping my head with the king of all aches in an instant."
"But you would not think of it."
"Nay, and I'd string out the guts of the man who did!"
"Then you should not find it hard to believe that my brothers do not seek to rule me."
Geoffrey thought that over, too, and nodded. "Even so. If Cordelia were to win what you have won, I would not seek to steal it, but would help her guard it, even as your brothers have done."
"Then why do you take me to the King and Queen, so that they may steal it from me?" Quicksilver asked softly. That brought Geoffrey up short. "Because it is the law," he said slowly, "which I am sworn to uphold—and because what you have, you have stolen from its rightful owners."
"The county, do you mean? And are you so sure that young Count Laeg is its rightful owner?"
"He is, in the law," Geoffrey replied.
"But in morality? Does not the land rather belong to them who till it? Should not its fruits belong to those who have drawn them from the earth?"
"There might be right in that," Geoffrey admitted, "but it is the world as it perhaps should be, not the world as it is. I live in the world that is, and will let Their Majesties decide whether or not it is right or wrong."
"But what know they of County Laeg?" Quicksilver protested. "What know they of the ways in which the Count and his father and, aye, his grandfather, abused their office and their peasants?"
"Little," Geoffrey admitted. "But if you tell them, and bring them some sort of proof, they shall see the right of it and amend it."
"You have greater faith in Their Majesties than I," Quicksilver said bitterly. "But then, it is not hard to have more than nothing."
"I have just such faith, for I have known them from childhood," Geoffrey returned. "They are good folk, look you, and if you review the actions they have taken for the good of the land and the folk, you will be reassured."
"I would like to think so," she said darkly, "the more since I am going to appear before them."
Geoffrey frowned. "Are you so sure that you are so much better a ruler than the Counts Laeg?"
"I am," Quicksilver returned, "for I was close to the peasant folk, and knew their distress and their grievances. When I gained power over them, I saw to it those grievances were redressed."
"Tell me the manner of it," Geoffrey urged her. "When three bands had sought to attack us, and been beaten for their pains," Quicksilver explained, "others began to give us a wide berth. But those we had beaten, we put to work hauling and hewing, for we had builded us a little village within the forest. However, when we went to raid Count Laeg's tax collectors, I placed them in my brothers' commands, though armed only with staves ... "
"You did not put one band for each of your brothers!"
"Of course not." She gave him a look of contempt. "How great a fool do you think me?"
"None at all," he said promptly.
She colored a little, and looked away, but her voice ground on. "I split each band among the four commanders—my brothers and myself. There were never more than a dozen to a band, so what is four more among trusted and seasoned men?"
"Aye—eight trusted, and four new!"
"But each of those eight had beaten one or two of the others at practice," Quicksilver pointed out. "Besides, they had seen how well we lived, and were minded to give my captaincy a try. We captured the tax collectors and sent them back to Count Laeg with only their tunics and hose, for we kept their shoes, their gold, and even their robes. The new men sang my praises then, though they grumbled against me when I kept the greater part of the loot for myself. They might have mutinied, had I not sent some of them out with packets of money to help friends in the villages who were hard pressed for food to live on, since the tax collectors had taken nine parts out of ten."
"Did the poor ever receive the money you sent?"
"Most of it. I sent other men to make sure, as I had told the messengers I would—and if they kept a coin or two for their pains, I did not trouble myself about their hire."
"Surely not, since it bought their loyalty."
"It did," she sighed, "though I wondered at the worth of loyalty that could be bought, and still do."
"Surely they are loyal for better reasons now!"
"Aye—for winning." She gave him a sardonic smile. "But such loyalty lasts no longer than a few losses. Praise Heaven I have never had more than one loss at a time!"
"Heaven?" Geoffrey asked. "Or your own good judgement, in next choosing an easy target?"
"I would like to think there was some sense to my planning," she conceded. "But now that I myself am lost..." She flashed him a bitter smile. "Well. Now we shall truly learn of their loyalty, shall we not?"
Geoffrey felt his stomach sink, and wondered why he should feel guilty about doing his duty. What spell was this woman working on him? "So you conquered all the other bands in the forest."
"There was no need—one by one, they came and asked to join us. I made them swear loyalty, though I doubted their vows were worth more than the rags they wore. Still, I gave them good broadcloth clothes, and hoped their steadfastness would improve with their cloth."
"You must have prospered mightily," Geoffrey said. Quicksilver shrugged. "I was an outlaw already, and dead if captured—and I had begun to think that I was more fit to rule than Count Laeg or his son."
Geoffrey frowned. "High thoughts, for the granddaughter of a peasant."
"You must not have met Count Laeg," she returned, "or Sir Hempen. I declared my rule over the forest, and sent men to pronounce it in every village."
Geoffrey stared. "In public? That was as good as a challenge!"
"It was a challenge," Quicksilver sa
id with a hard smile, "and young Count Laeg knew it. Oh, he sent Sir Hempen after me first, but I defeated him and his band with a right good will. I sent them home all a-foot and bereft of arms, though I did regret the two slain in the battle, and the three of my own. But Sir Hempen I had scourged with a horsewhip besides, and sent him home without even his tunic."
Geoffrey frowned. "I thought you let your enemies keep their pride."
"Not him—he had cost me too much that was dear. I told him to thank his mother for his life—that if it had not been for the thought of her grief, I would have slain him outright. Well, no," she amended thoughtfully, "perhaps not 'outright.' Perhaps slowly..."
Geoffrey couldn't suppress a small shudder, and wondered why this woman still seemed fascinating to him. "He had to punish you for that, or lose the obedience of his peasants."
"That he had already lost. They began to come to me by twos and threes, young men and old, who had fallen a-foul of Sir Hempen's tyranny—crops and cattle taken as taxes, sweethearts and daughters taken as toys..." She shook herself, trying to dispel rising anger. "Faugh! What a dog is he! If I had not seen so much good, steadfast bravery and caring among my own band, I might have despaired forever of the breed of men!"
"I am glad that you have not," Geoffrey told her. "Well, I nearly have, anyway," she told him, "for among the bands I conquered were women who were virtual slaves, forced to cook and clean, and fill the filthy outlaws' beds, and bear them brats which they then were forced to tend."
Geoffrey stared. "The sorry creatures! How had they come to such a pass?"
"Some had been kidnapped when they came to gather berries in the woods, poor innocents. Some had been captured from parties of travellers who were foolish enough to dare the wood without an armed guard. But most were those who had fled to the greenwood rather than bear the attentions of knights and their soldiers, or even of village bullies. Poor things, they exchanged bad for worse."
"But not when you found them?"
"If I had not needed the outlaws for an army," Quicksilver said bitterly, "I would have slain them then and there. As it was, I made to scourge them—but the women themselves actually begged me to desist, claiming that the men were their only source of livelihood and protection!"
Geoffrey closed his eyes in pain. "The poor bewildered creatures."
"So I thought," she said grimly. "I told them that I would provide their living henceforth, and their protection—but still they begged me not to punish their men overly much, for their captors were all they had."
"Why, they thought of themselves as wives!" Geoffrey said, astonished.
"So they did. I bade the men arise and treat their women gently and with respect henceforth, or it would go hard with them. I kept my word, too, seeing that any man who beat a woman received more blows than he had given. The females gained some measure of happiness then, tending their children and keeping house—but to my amazement, most of them continued to speak with the men who had been their captors, and even to bed with them!"
Geoffrey just stared at her for a second. Then he said, "Well, if they had come to think of themselves as wives, they must have thought of the men as their husbands."
"So it seemed—but I made sure each couple passed through a ceremony, when next a friar passed through the wood. I was most amazed that the men submitted with good grace, seeming even happy with the matter."
Geoffrey smiled. "Perhaps they were flattered to think that the women actually chose them, without being forced."
"There is that, and they did seem content with their company. I was forced to admit that I had not just an outlaw band, but also a village, a true one. Some of the women even asked their men to dig gardens, and began to grow crops. But there were others who rejoiced at their liberation, and wished to have nothing to do with any man again. These hailed me as their savior, and I was amazed when I woke one night and found two of them sitting up to watch my door, not trusting my brothers' vigil. I saw then that I must teach all women to bear weapons, and to fight with their hands, whether they would or no. I did, and there was never a wife-beating again—and my sentrygirls gave my brothers relief from their sleepless nights."
"Thus did your bodyguard grow?"
"Aye. They are a great comfort to me, for I know there is not a one of them would not rather lose her head than see an enemy come nigh me. Indeed..." Grief shadowed her face. "...three of them have died beside me, in battle. I could not ask for more worthy friends."
Geoffrey could sympathize, but he could also realize what those Amazons must be planning for himself, right at that moment. If they could find him... "And word of this spread? For surely, your men must have now and again stolen out to talk with old friends or kinfolk."
"They did indeed, though I did not realize it until village women began to come to me, one by one, then two and three together."
Geoffrey held his face carefully neutral. "Your men did not harm them, of course."
"Oh, certainly not," Quicksilver said softly, "for I had declared to all of them what I would do to the man I found hurting a woman. No, my sentries brought them in with courtesy and good cheer, and I welcomed them and bade my women shelter them. Then I taught them all the way of fighting, with and without weapons, and was amazed how many of them balked, and did not wish to learn. But I told them that they lived in a band of outlaws, and must be ready to help fight off the shire-reeves' men at any time. They took my meaning, and learned—and some among them chose to join my bodyguard."
"Did the others marry?"
Quicksilver shrugged. "There is no need—even if they do not, they shall be given food, drink, shelter, and fuel. Each must do her share of the camp's work, of course, and her own—but in my band, coupling will come from the desire of both, or not at all, and marriage will come from love, not from need. If there is anything left of my band in a week..."
Her face darkened, and Geoffrey knew only that he had to lighten it. Plague, he would not feel guilty about capturing her—it was she who had chosen to be a bandit war lord, and he who had chosen to be a royal knight! "Still," he said, "if Sir Hempen let your insult pass without punishment, he would have lost all power over his peasants. Did he not come again?"
"No, the King's shire-reeve came next, with a much larger force of men—in truth, half again as many as my band. My outlaws quailed at the news of their number, and would have faded into the forest leaves, had I not harangued them and shamed them and reminded them that this was their wood, and no man of the open lands could stand against them in it. They liked the sound of that, and took their stations where I bade them—though with my brothers keeping watch upon them, you may be sure. The shire-reeve rode in among the leaves, and walked out without his horse, as did all his men. Some chose to stay with us, under guise of having been captured and held hostage..."
"Holding peasant guardsmen hostage?" Geoffrey smiled at that. "Surely the shire-reeve saw that for the fiction it was!"
"No, I think he thought me so innocent as to actually expect him to offer a ransom for his men. When he did not, of course, I was able to keep them without his suspecting their treachery. So he left me a dozen of his men, and the rest of his band left us their armor and weapons, and five of their number dead. We buried them, though nowhere near the one of my men who died in the fight. My mother and sister led my officers in binding up the wounds of my men, then of theirs—I was enraged when I saw that the shire-reeve made no move toward tending his own wounded, and gave him a wound of his own for his pains, then forebade anyone to bind it for him. I relented at the last, when he had to set out walking, and knew he would have to come again, to recapture his arms, and his pride."
"You wanted to have them attack you!"
"Aye." She gave him a brittle smile. "To come against me here on my home ground, where I had the advantage of the terrain, and a great deal of cover. Finally young Count Laeg found he could not countenance this challenge to his power without losing respect and obedience among his own knights
and squires, and surely among his peasants—so he led all his army against me, or almost all."
"With the shire-reeves and Sir Hempen among them."
"Oh, they led parties of knights themselves," she said softly. "That was a bloody battle indeed—ten of my band died, and twenty of his, with three times that number wounded. But when the fighting was done, it was Count Laeg who was chained and his men who were bound, and we who went back to his castle."
"This time," Geoffrey said softly, "you were prepared." Quicksilver nodded, gazing off into space, seeing the battle all over again. "We were ready, and his castellan was not—his mother, I should say; but he had left her only a dozen guards to hold the walls, never thinking that we might come upon her. Come we did though, and my brothers raised a howl of battle all about the walls and the gatehouse, firing flaming arrows and hurling rocks from small catapults, but never coming close enough for the guards to pour oil on them, or have a decent chance of striking them with the crossbows that were their only weapons."
Quicksilver's Knight Page 9
