Quicksilver's Knight

by Christopher Stasheff

  "If you did not send word..."

  "It was his duty to know!" Quicksilver snapped. "Or Duke Loguire's, at least! Oh, aye, I know he gave the title to his younger son—but what good is a child Duke? The more so, when he dwells a hundred miles and more away, in Runnymede! What use is he then?"

  "He dwells in Castle Loguire now," Alain told her, "and he is not a child any more."

  All the bandits went silent. Even Geoffrey stared, amazed, and realized how far out of touch with the events of the Court he had become while he wandered the roads of Gramarye, looking for fun—or wrongs to right, which were one and the same to him. So Diarmid had been installed as Duke Loguire? No wonder his brother was here in the South, to help him settle in—and Cordelia with him!

  "Where have you had this news?" Quicksilver demanded.

  "At Castle Loguire," Alain said, "from which we have come to aid you."

  Quicksilver calmed, eyeing him warily as she prowled about him. Cordelia stepped between them protectively. "I have heard he is a milksop, this Duke Diarmid," the outlaw chief finally said. "I have heard he cannot lift a broadsword, nor has the courage to order a murderer hanged."

  "You shall find him otherwise," Alain replied. "I can testify to his ability with the broadsword..."

  "With what proof?"

  Alain's mouth tightened with impatience, but he pulled up the sleeve of his doublet to show a long white scar. "That proof! And this was only from practice, mind you, not done in earnest!"

  "Practice indeed," Quicksilver said with contempt. "Has he had more than practice, this dukelet of yours? Has he ever fought in a true battle? Has he ever had to say who will live and who will die?"

  "In battle, he has fought beside me," Alain testified, "though 'twas only against a band of cutthroats, not a proper army."

  Quicksilver's bandits stirred, muttering with displeasure. Alain ignored them. "As to judgement, he has never had to sit in the seat himself, but has given good advice to those who have."

  "The quality of his governance has not yet been tested, then," Quicksilver said, "nor his good sense, nor his justice. I am not about to bid my outlaws disband and trust to his sense of fairness quite yet."

  "None have asked you to."

  "Nay, but you have asked me to save one of this worthless rabble to tell lies about me and my band, that this new Duke may be sure we are villains!"

  "There are those who can testify to the truth or falseness of his words." Alain glanced significantly at Geoffrey. "I do not ask you to trust yourselves to Duke Diarmid's judgement, but only one of your enemies, that the Duke may know into what chaos his demesne has fallen, and the magnitude of the task he must undertake."

  Quicksilver stood glaring at him, unwilling to argue further, sensing a grain of rightness in what Alain said. "Come, how great a risk is it?" Cordelia coaxed. "You have slain a score of villains, and have a score more to try according to your own code! May not the Duke have one?"

  "Only if you bear witness to him of what you have seen in Aunriddy!"

  "Why, that I will," Alain said, "and I do not doubt we shall find others who will speak against these bandits."

  "And this parish must be taken from Count Frith! He has failed to protect it! It is mine now, to protect and nurture as I will!"

  Alain stared a moment, then said, "But you are a royal prisoner."

  Quicksilver stared at him, her face emptying. Geoffrey couldn't stand to see her so forlorn. He stepped forward and asked softly, "Is that what you shall charge before the King? That the title of Count Laeg is now yours, by right of good governance?"

  Quicksilver shot him a look of surprise that transformed into gratitude, then as quickly transformed into something else that made Geoffrey go weak in the knees. "Aye," she said, "even so shall I maintain! Let him judge me guilty of thievery when I maintain my cause by Right as well as Might!"

  Alain frowned. "There is no precedent . .."

  "Come, my love." Cordelia smiled up at him, taking his arm. "You know full well that anything that is a precedent had to happen one first time."

  Alain beamed down at her, all sternness disappearing. "Why, 'tis even so! How clever you are, to think it!"

  A murmur went through the outlaws, and Minerva stared in surprise, then looked strangely uncertain—but Quicksilver only gave him an acid smile. "I think you are a fool for a woman, sir."

  "Aye," Alain agreed readily, "but there is no shame in that, when the woman in question is so wise."

  "La, my lord!" Cordelia blushed, looking down, but smiling. "You embarrass me, and in front of so many folk!"

  Geoffrey glanced at Quicksilver, and saw the naked longing there in her face before she hid it behind a mocking smile. "How sweet! But whiles you dally, there are men groaning in pain."

  "Oh, aye!" Cordelia dropped Alain's arm and stepped past Quicksilver, toward the tangle of wounded. "Come, let us see to their hurts! Leave the binding of prisoners to your men, and aid me!"

  Quicksilver stared after her, astounded and confounded. "Bid your brothers see to the enemy," Geoffrey suggested, "for surely at least one of them is here. Is not the measure of a chieftain how well her band works when she is not there?"

  Quicksilver frowned up at him. "An interesting notion—and one measure among several, at least. Jory!" Her bodyguard parted to let her brother step up. "Aye, sister?"

  "Bind such of these outlaws as still live, for it would be wrong to slay them now, in cold blood! You may judge them later, beneath the greenwood tree or at Castle Laeg!"

  "It shall be done, Jane." He turned away.

  Cordelia halted, looking back in surprise. " 'Jane'?"

  "It is for my family to call me that," Quicksilver snapped, "and no other. Let us see to the doctoring, damsel—but I warn you, my surgery is of the roughest sort."

  "And mine is of the gentlest," Cordelia rejoined, "so between us, we should be ready for anything we may find. Can you not heal as well as you slay?"

  "Aye. Come, and I shall show you!"

  The two women strode off side by side, and Alain stepped over to Geoffrey, shaking his head in wonder. "What a spitfire she is! I tell you, Geoffrey, I marvel all over again at this lass of mine, that she can tame even so wild a spirit as this, so quickly!"

  "Aye, she can," Geoffrey said softly, "but can I?"

  Alain turned to him, frowning. "How was that?"

  "Nothing," Geoffrey said, aloud. "She may be a bandit chieftain, Alain, but she has had cause."

  "So it would seem, from what she said about Count Laeg. She slew him, did she not?"

  "Ah," Geoffrey said softly, "so the Loguires have not been as wholly ignorant of what passed in their domain as she thinks."

  "Aye, but we should have known the fullness of this ere it came to her rebellion. I will own 'tis that which has made us look more closely."

  "And is the cause of Diarmid's coming to Loguire?"

  "Aye. Mind you, the lad is nearly twenty, and has long been ready for the office—but Mother would not hear of his being so far from her."

  "Ever the case with the youngest," Geoffrey agreed, thinking of his own younger brother. "But when word of Quicksilver's taking Castle Laeg came, the Queen conflicted with the mother, eh?"

  "Even so, and when we heard that Quicksilver had declared the county to be hers, and she its rightful ruler, the Queen won, and agreed to sending her second and last child to attend to the matter."

  "With a small army to guard him."

  "Aye."

  "And his big brother."

  "And his big brother's witch-fiancee. Aye."

  Geoffrey nodded. "So that is why Cordelia could come so quickly when I called—and why she could bring you with her."

  "I will not say it was entirely her own idea," Alain hedged. "I think she was surprised when I volunteered so readily—until she realized that I feared for her safety among bandits."

  "You did not tell her that it was also because you wished to study this bandit Quicksilver close at hand?"
Alain shrugged. "Why? I am sure she has worked that out for herself."

  "But it is more polite to pretend neither of you knows it." Geoffrey nodded. "And truly, you were more concerned for her safety than curious about Quicksilver, were you not?"

  "Oh, aye, but she is more concerned for mine." Alain shrugged off the matter. "No doubt she shall be angered when she sees that I have taken two more wounds—but they are mere scratches, and others are hurt far worse."

  "Scratches can fester." Geoffrey turned away to take lint and balm out of Fess's saddle bag. "Come, doff your doublet and let us bind up these wounds!"

  "Why, if you must," Alain sighed, and shrugged out of his doublet. "When you are done, of course, I will bind for you. What of this lady bandit of yours? I am told she slew old Count Laeg; was there any excuse for it?"

  "Is self-defense excuse enough?"

  "So I had surmised." Alain nodded. "He sought to rape her, then?"

  "He would have been pleased if she had submitted willingly," Geoffrey answered, "but she did not—and I gather he was far more pleased with the prospect of rape."

  Alain's lips thinned, and it was not with the pain of the balm going into his cuts. "He exercised the droit du seigneur, then."

  "Not even that. By that law, the lord has the right to each bride's maidenhead, the night before she is wed. Quicksilver was betrothed to no man, nor, from what I hear, were most of the other damsels he took to his bed."

  "A thorough rogue indeed!" Alain hissed. "Nay, we should have been far less trusting of our reeves and our steward!"

  "Your steward was a good man," Geoffrey said carefully.

  "Aye, but he always strove to think well of everybody, never realizing that he might thus be overlooking villainies. Diarmid is more suspicious than that."

  Geoffrey remembered Diarmid's cold, analytical insistence on learning all the facts relating to any matter before he made up his mind about it, and felt chilled within. "He is that."

  "So the killing was self-defense," Alain said, "though 'twas still a commoner slaying a lord."

  "Aye. She was sure the law would not protect her, and for that reason alone, I suspect she was right."

  "So she broke the law further, by stealing?"

  Geoffrey shrugged. "She felt she had no choice—it was win rule, or submit willingly to abuse, or die. For a woman alone, that may well have been the case."

  "Then the law is vile, and must be changed!" said the future King of Gramarye. "But has she ever set forth to steal, or has she only defended herself and her people?"

  "She has never started a battle, if that is what you mean. She has always waited for her enemy to attack first, then has carved him into little pieces. Then she has taken his land and castle."

  "As it was necessary to take Castle Laeg, in order for her to defend herself." Alain nodded. "That makes more sense than it sounds."

  "A great deal more," Geoffrey agreed. "Once she had beaten Count Laeg's troops, she could be sure he would come against her with a larger army, even with royal troops among them."

  "And, no doubt, with myself or Diarmid as their general," Alain grunted, "if you had not forestalled her."

  "You see? It was even as she guessed. No, surely she needed the walls of Castle Laeg to defend her—and had to chase the young Count from his own demesne, scattering his troops, so that he could not come against her." Geoffrey shrugged. "It was against the law, but it was sound strategy."

  "If she were a general for the Crown, we would reward her for it," Alain agreed. "There is less wrong in what she has done than in the circumstances that brought her to it. Yes, there may even be merit to her notion that the young Count has forfeited his county by bad governance, and that it should be hers by right of good governance."

  Geoffrey noted that Alain had already officially forgotten who came up with that idea. "It will give her a talking point at law, at least."

  "It is certainly the sort of argument that would appeal to Diarmid. I must say that if it is a choice between changing Quicksilver and changing the law, I can only say that the law is wrong—but it would be a dangerous precedent to lay on the books."

  "You worry about the precedent, friend," Geoffrey advised, "and let me worry about Quicksilver."

  Alain flashed him a smile. "She is worth the worrying, I warrant you."

  "I shall need some sort of warrant, that is sure," Geoffrey said, with a sardonic smile, "though one for her death is not quite the sort I wish." He sighed. "Even if she had been wrong in everything she had done, Alain, surely this battle would have earned her some clemency."

  "Putting down a band of vicious outlaws, and saving a village? Aye, and if we add to that her muzzling of the outlaw bands in her forest, I think we may say there is grounds for clemency indeed. That does not mean, though, that she can be exempted from punishment entirely."

  "But that the punishment might be crafted to fit the crime?"

  Alain gave him a slow smile. "Why, what a fascinating thought! But come, my wounds are bound. Take off your doublet." .

  "Oh, if I must," Geoffrey grumbled, and they changed places.

  Quicksilver held the groaning bandit up with one hand while she took the roll of bandage from Cordelia at the man's right-hand side, unrolled it across his back, and passed it to Cordelia on the left. "That is a most handsome man on whom you have cast the band of betrothal, Lady Cordelia."

  Cordelia smiled, trying not to appear smug. "He is indeed, Chieftain Quicksilver."

  "There is something of the prig about him, though." Cordelia looked up in surprise, then decided not to take offense. Instead, she gave Quicksilver a slow smile. "Leave that to me."

  "I have no wish to do otherwise," the bandit chief told her. "Indeed, your brother is trouble enough for me."

  "Trouble, because you must escape him?" Cordelia asked softly. "Or because you do not wish to?"

  "'Tis unkind of you to say it," Quicksilver snapped, then looked up at her with a sudden, naked forlornness. "Besides, both are part of one problem, are they not?"

  Cordelia stared at her, surprised, then managed a reassuring smile. "Problems are for solving, Chieftain. Come, this man is bound—let us go to another."

  Quicksilver lowered the bandaged man, ignoring his groan, and stood up, turning to survey the wounded. "That one, I think."

  They knelt by a man with a huge gash in his thigh—but even as they did, he surged up, a dagger stabbing toward Quicksilver's stomach as he screamed, "Die, unnatural woman!"

  Quicksilver caught his wrist, pushing it aside and twisting. The man screamed and fainted. "So much the better," the bandit chieftain said through tight lips. "They are easier to doctor when they feel no pain."

  "Water before unguent." Cordelia began to wash out the wound. "Pay his words no heed, damsel. The woman who fends a man off is all the more woman for that."

  "And what could make a bandit chieftain a woman?" Quicksilver demanded.

  "Why, a man who is worth respecting," Cordelia answered, taking out the jar of unguent, "but only if he arouses in you a desire to not fend him off."

  Quicksilver was silent a moment, then said, with an edge to her voice, "You think your brother is such a one, do you not?"

  "Many women have thought so in the past." Cordelia watched Quicksilver out of the corner of her eye, knowing the barb would hurt, but also knowing the woman had to be warned. "Even so, he is good-hearted withal, and would never force a woman nor do anything to cause any good person pain, if he could help it."

  "There is that in him," Quicksilver acknowledged, "but what good is it, if he is likely to go chasing off after every lightskirt he sees?"

  "True," Cordelia sighed. "I long for him to meet a woman who so fascinates him that he shall have no wish to go chasing again." She waited a moment, still watching Quicksilver out of the corner of her eye, then said, "But I fear that no such woman exists, since to hold him, she would have to be as engrossed in the study of warfare as he is—for those are the only two real intere
sts in his life."

  Quicksilver looked up, suddenly alert, then frowned. "What two? War, and what else?"

  "Women," Cordelia replied.

  Quicksilver thought that one over for a time, then said, "Can he love?"

  "Oh, yes," Cordelia said softly. "We were all reared in a very loving home, mind you, and half of what ails him is yearning to give love, but finding no woman who is trustworthy."

  "None trustworthy?" Quicksilver looked up sharply. "Why, how mean you?"

  "He has never met a woman who wanted him for himself alone," Cordelia said simply. "Every wench who has crossed his path has wanted rank and wealth from him—has wanted the High Warlock's son, not Geoffrey alone."

  Quicksilver developed a very thoughtful look.

  "It is for that reason that he has taken what they offer, I think," Cordelia said, "for it is even as they have sought to do to him ... Well, this one is salved. Give me the bandage."

  When they were done doctoring the worst cases, they came back to find Alain rubbing salve into a gash in Geoffrey's chest.

  "Why, what a botch is this!" Quicksilver cried in anger. "Step aside, sir, and leave that to me!"

  Alain sprang aside a second before she elbowed him out of the way. He looked up at Cordelia in outrage—but his fiancee only smiled, and gave him the smallest of nods. Alain turned back to watch Quicksilver with a thoughtful look.

  Her face was rigid as she rubbed salve into Geoffrey's massive pectoral, and her hand trembled ever so slightly.

  But when she had finished winding the bandage about his chest, steadfastly avoiding the glow of his eyes as he watched her (well, she sneaked a couple of quick glances, but as quickly looked away again), she stood up, tossed him his tunic, and stepped back, drawing her sword.

  Suddenly, Minerva was at her side, there were Amazons all about her, and her brothers stepped up, with fifty bandits behind them.

  "The battle is done, sir, and the wounded bandaged," Quicksilver said. "Wherefore should I not leave you here, and go back with my band to defy you at Castle Laeg?"

  Alain stared, appalled, and Cordelia developed a look of dread—but Geoffrey only pulled on his tunic and emerged from it smiling. "Why," he said, "because you would rather defy me right here, and right now."