When they came down to their great halls, they found the spokesmen of the village councils waiting for them with charters of their own.
They signed them, of course-after furious rages and long bargaining sessions, after haranguing and bellowing and draft after draft after draft-but in the end, they signed their charters with the common people. They had no choice, for the spokesmen of the soldiers' councils stood right behind the villagers, and the soldiers behind their spokesmen.
When the charters were signed and the laws amended, the outlaws began to come out of the forests to accept the amnesty they offered.
Coll, though, didn't go back to his home village. He didn't even stay on Earl Insol's estates. He went back to the inn with Dirk and Gar right behind him, to find the players-and Ciare.
They arrived just as Enrico came limping up to the door on his crutch, and Dicea flew out of the inn to sail into him with a cry of joy. Enrico staggered back, trying to hold on to his crutch and hug Dicea both at the same time. Coll ran forward to catch him and steady him, then stood back, grinning-and looked up to see Ciare coming toward him, arms wide, with tears streaming down her face.
When they were done with frantic kissing and deep long kissing, she demanded, "Never leave me again! Never, never! "
"Never," Coll assured her, looking deeply into her eyes with a smile, "but do you really think I can become a player?"
Ciare stared at him as the meaning of his words sank in. "I had thought I would have to become a village wife to keep you," she whispered.
Coll shook his head. "A wild songbird might not die in a cage, but half the beauty of its melody would be gone. I'll go where you go, sweeting."
Dirk nodded approvingly as they embraced again, their lips too busy for speech, and commented to Gar, "Might be good cover for the leader of a secret government, at that."
"An excellent cover," Gar agreed. "He can travel around the countryside without anyone wondering whyand who would suspect a vagabond of being a beggar king?"
"Always harder to find a moving target," Dirk agreed. "Now all we have to do is get him to agree."
That turned out to be the toughest part of the job altogether. "The lords will wipe out all the councils if somebody isn't working constantly to keep them going," Dirk argued. "Somebody has to take the ultimate responsibility for them, Coll-which means somebody has to be boss."
"If there's someone at the top of the pyramid of cells to give orders and keep them active," Gar explained, "the system will maintain itself. Now that the serfs have learned that they can unify and fight back, they won't forget."
"That doesn't mean it will all be clear sailing," Dirk warned. "The lords won't give up even this much of their power willingly. Some of them will try to avenge themselves on single serfs or even small groups of them. The councils will call for justice according to their charters, and will probably have to enforce it."
"Someone has to be issuing orders to make sure everyone learns how to use a quarterstaff and a bow, and keep them practicing."
Coll scowled, his massive reluctance weakening for the first time. "Yes, I can see that."
"The lords might even send out spies and bribe villagers to find out who the cell members are," Gar said, pressing his advantage. "Then they'll have their soldiers sweep down on them some night and murder them all."
"You're saying we must always have armies of outlaws in the forests, ready to be called up to counter such a strike," Coll said grimly.
Dirk stared in surprise. "Yeah, great idea! I hadn't even thought of it. You do have the talent you need for the job, Coll."
"No, not II" the serf cried in alarm.
"Who else?" Gar asked. "The lords will probably even try attacking all the serfs together, to intimidate the councils and force them to identify themselves and surrender. You'll have to be ready to call for them all to fight back. And don't forget to save a large reserve in case it's a diversion."
"You see, there has to be somebody at the top to give orders," Dirk insisted.
"But what if the lords should win!"
"Make sure they don't," Dirk said simply.
But Gar nodded with understanding. "It's a very real danger, Coll. The history of old Earth, where the first people came from, tells of peasant rebellions every hundred years or so, and tells also how the lords put them down with brutal force. You're never done winning freedom. You have to fight for it in every generation."
"'The price of freedom is constant vigilance,'" Dirk quoted, "so somebody always has to be a sentry, somebody always has to be watching for signs of trouble and head it off or at least be ready for the fight when it comes."
"Worry," Gar counseled, "but don't worry too much. None of those medieval peasant revolts were anywhere nearly as well organized as yours. But the knights do have a huge advantage."
Dirk nodded. "Horses, armor, and all the weaponsplus constant practice. They're professionals, trained to war from birth."
"So you have to make sure your peasants are trained from birth, too," Gar reasoned.
"But how can we be sure the knights won't win?"
"You can't." Dirk's tone hardened. "You can never be sure-but your secret network gives you a very good chance of winning again and again, until a new generation of lords accepts the councils as part of the way the world is."
"But that network has to be efficiently and wisely run," Gar said, "which means there has to be somebody running it who understands how the system works, and how to use it."
"No peasant can know that!"
"You can," Dirk pointed out. "We've been explaining it to you step by step as we set it up. In fact, Coll, you're the only man in Aggrand who has even a chance of making it work."
"But I don't want it!" Coll protested. "All I want is to marry Ciare and spend my life with her and our children!" Dirk turned to Gar. "That's the best kind of boss-the one who doesn't want the job, but loves the work."
"I don't!"
"Don't try to tell us that," Gar said with a hard smile. "You've thrown yourself into this whole task heart and soul, until you thought it was over."
"But it's never over," Dirk said softly, "not really. So if you want to be sure Ciare and your children are safe from the noblemen's whims, you'll have to keep the network going."
Coll stared, appalled as he realized Dirk spoke the truth. "Has she said she'll marry you yet?" Dirk asked gently."I--haven't asked," Coll said through stiff lips. "Not really, not formally."
"Then you'd better ask her, hadn't you? And if she says `yes,' tell her what she'll be getting into, and why you need to do it. Then if she still says she'll marry you, you'll know she's in love with you."
Coll asked her that afternoon-but he reversed the order.
17
Ciare saw Coll coming back toward the stage and turned to him with a glad cry that froze on her lips when she saw the grim set of his face. She ran to him, hands out to press against his chest. "Coll! What troubles you?"
"Can you come aside with me?" Coll asked. "There's much I need to tell you."
"Of course." There were chores to do and her part in making dinner, but Ciare knew urgency when she saw it. Her friends would understand.
They paced out of the inn yard and into the center of the village common. Coll was silent until they were sitting on an old stump beneath a grandfather oak.
"They want me to be the master of all the serf councils," Coll said abruptly.
Ciare stared at him in shock, feeling that she was seeing his set profile for the first time. There was a strength there that she had never seen before, and the beginnings of wisdom. Her eyes filled with tears, for she suddenly understood what he had come to tell her, that a simple player-lass could never be a fit consort for the secret master of all the common folk. But she resolved on the instant not to hold him back-she knew that thwarted destiny makes a bitter man. Calling all her actress's skills to her aid, she forced a bright smile and said, "Oh, Coll, how wonderful!"
But he heard the t
remor in her voice and turned to her, distressed. "If you don't want it, I'll tell them no! I still can-and a life with you is worth far more to me than any position! "
She stared at him, shocked again, then melted into his arms, pulling his head down for his lips to find hers, and let her mouth melt into his. When they finally broke apart, gasping, she managed to say, "But can't you be the Serf Master and still be my husband?"
"I can," he said gravely, looking straight into her eyes, "but it could be very dangerous. Spies might find me out and take us all to the torture. Worse, they might torture you to make me obey. I can't take that chance with your pain."
She reached out a trembling hand to touch his face and smiled through her tears. "Silly boy! Don't you see that I'd rather risk death than lose you? Besides, we've learned how to keep secrets, we player folk, and how to keep them from the knowledge of any town dweller or soldier anywhere! No, Coll, you can be the Serf Master and my husband-if you wish it."
"I don't wish to be Serf Master," he said truthfully, "but I do want to be your husband." He slipped down on one knee, taking both her hands between both of his, staring up at her with absolute concentration. "Cure, will you marry me?"
She sat immobile for a moment, her eyes filling with tears, feeling that all her dreams had come true. Then she laughed and took his face in her hands to shower dozens of kisses all over his eyes, his cheeks, and finally his mouth. When they broke apart, she whispered, eyes still closed, "Yes, Coll. Oh, yes, I will marry you." Then she opened her eyes, staring at him almost indignantly. "But you must be Serf Master, too!"
His face was transfigured with joy, but he protested, "I have no property, no money-and I don't know how to be anything but a farmer and a soldier!"
"And a master of rebellion," she reminded him. "Well, then, since you know nothing else, you'll have to learn to be a player-if Master Androv will have you." She intended to make good and sure that he would.
Coll talked to Master Androv that very night (which didn't give Ciare much time to cozen the old fellow). "I know nothing of playacting," he said, "and I don't think I can learn. But I can help set up the stage and I can take tickets and quiet the rowdies in the audience-and I might come in handy if bandits attack you on the road."
"To be sure you would!" Androv said heartily, and clapped him on the shoulder. "You've been a stalwart member of this company already, Coll, and I'll be delighted to have you stay with us for good! Be sure, though, that even if you rarely go on stage, you'll earn your living in hard labor, just as you've said!"
Coll was amazed at such ready acceptance. "You're sure I won't be in the way?"
"In the way! Why, we'll wonder how we ever did without you!" Privately, Master Androv was also delighted to know that he wouldn't be losing Dicea, who was showing promise as a player and would have taken Enrico with her if she had left. But he was even more relieved to know that he'd be keeping Mama, who had turned out to have great skill, both with the needle and in keeping other people's spirits up.
So Coll announced their engagement over dinner that night, and the whole company cheered the couple and drank their health. Then Androv announced that Coll and his family would be traveling with them forever more, and they all cheered and drank again. One drink led to another, and before they knew it, they had a full-fledged party going.
Gar slipped away early, though. He went out into the fields and waited as a large parcel came floating down from the sky. The next day, he presented Coll with his wedding gift-a stack of playbooks printed out by his ship's computer, the best dramas, comedies, and tragedies that human playwrights had written since people learned to write. He and Dirk also presented Coll with enough gold coins to make both his eyes and his money belt bulge.
They stayed long enough to watch the wedding, three weeks later. Ciare insisted on being married in a church, which meant the company had to stay in one town long enough for the priest to read the banns three Sundays in a row. Gar knew they could never pull an audience that many weeks, especially since everyone in town had already seen every play in the company's repertoire while they were waiting for the war to end-so he paid the landlord for three weeks' room and board for everyone, and the whole company settled down for the first vacation they could ever remember.
It lasted until Coll gave Androv a copy of one of the plays Gar had given him-Shakespeare's Measure for Measure. He read it in one electrified sitting, then shouted all his players back onto the stage and made them begin rehearsals. By the time the Church was satisfied that no one in town knew any reason why Coll and Ciare couldn't marry, the play was ready to perform.
Even then, the priest would only marry them in the portico in front of the church, because they were players. But the other players costumed the bride in splendor and decorated bride and groom both with flowers, not to mention the pillars and, nearly, the priest. Finally falling into the spirit of the occasion, he smiled and prompted them.
"Do you, Coll, take this woman, Ciare, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, in sickness or in health, till death do you part?"
" 'I do,' " Dirk muttered behind him. "I do!" Coll gasped.
"And do you, Ciare, take this man Coll to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
"I do!" Ciare declared, her face radiant.
"Then I now pronounce you man and wife." The priest lowered his voice. "You may kiss the bride."
Coll did, and Dicea cast a shy but speculative look at Enrico, who beamed back at her while the rest of the company erupted in cheers and led the bride and groom away from the church to a festival in the innyard where they had set up their stage. Everyone drank deeply and danced wildly, then with gay hilarity and many ribald comments ushered the newlyweds to the best bedroom the inn had to offer.
They emerged as the morning shadows stretched long across the grass of the village green, and Coll sobered at once, seeing the looks on the faces of Dirk and Gar. He hurried over to them, Ciare on his arm. "What troubles you, my friends?"
"Only that we have to leave," Gar told him. "We've waited to say good-bye to you, but the time has come."
A sudden void seemed to open inside Coll, and panic filled it. "But how shall we manage without you? What if the lords rise against us?"
"You know what to do." Gar laid a hand on his shoulder. "We've taught you all you need to know. Just remember to be cautious always, and suspect every deed any lord does."
Dirk nodded. "You can manage it. Have a good life, you two." For a moment, his gaze rested on Ciare, and his face seemed gaunt with longing. Then he shook himself and turned back to clap Coll on the shoulder. "You lucky peasant!" he said in a husky voice. "You lucky, wealthy man!" Then he turned and strode away toward the forest.
They watched him go, and Ciare asked, mystified, "Why did he call you wealthy?"
"Because I have you." Coll clasped her firmly against his side and lowered his cheek to rest against her hair. A great peace, an amazing sense of contentment, rose to fill the void where there had been only panic minutes before. "You are wealthy indeed, in all the ways that I wish I were." Gar lifted Ciare's hand to kiss it, then looked straight into her eyes. "May you have healthy children and a long life, my friends-and may the memory of these days of love sustain you whenever hard times come, all through your life."
"They will," Ciare whispered, her eyes filled with tears. "Farewell, O my friend!"
"Farewell," Coll whispered.
"Fare well through all your days." Then Gar bowed and turned away, striding fast to catch up with Dirk.
"I hope they find their loves," Ciare said, nestling closer against Coll.
"So do I," he breathed, "but I thank Heaven all the more that I have found mine!" He turned to kiss her, long, lingering, and lasting.
When darkness fell, Dirk and Gar stepped out of the trees into a wide forest meadow to watch a small black circle form overhead, on
e that grew steadily larger and larger still, until it blotted out all the stars. Then, abruptly, it was no longer a circle in the sky, but a huge circular spaceship that lowered itself into the meadow, nearly filling it, with only twenty feet or so between ship and trees. A boarding ramp lowered, leading up to light, and a voice said, "Ready to board, gentlemen."
"Thank you, Herkimer." Gar led the way up the ramp. They came into the lighted lock. The ramp closed behind them, and the voice said, "Welcome home, Magnus. Welcome home, Dirk."
"Home it is!" Dirk threw himself down into a lounger. "Ah, the blessings of the modern world! You can have the shower first, Gar. I think I'll just sit here a while, and soak up some sybaritic luxury."
He knew very well that there were four showers aboard. Gar took a drink from the dispenser and handed it to Dirk. "You might want to tryg this with it." He headed toward a shower cubicle, calling, "Lift off, Herkimer." He felt no change in weight as he shucked his clothes and stepped into the shower, but he knew that the spaceship was rising again into the night, up and up into orbit.
He came out of the shower to find Dirk's glass and lounger empty. Magnus pulled on modern clothing, took a drink of his own, sat down in the lounger, and watched the planet Maltroit grow smaller and smaller in the viewscreen.
Dirk came out, wearing shirt and breeches of soft, shimmering, synthetic cloth. He tapped another glassful and took the lounger next to Gar's, watching the planet turn from a huge presence above them into a swirling disk in front of them. "Strange to think it's over."
"Over for us," Gar returned. "Just begun, for Coll and Ciare."
"Think we might come back to see them again someday?"
"Not really," Gar said regretfully. "It's a big galaxy, after all-a very big galaxy. But I think the Wizard might look in on him from time to time."
"He might, at that." Dirk took a sip, then said, "Do you think he'll ever figure out that the Wizard was you?"
"Only if he suspects I'm a mind reader," Gar replied, "and since he's probably never even heard the word 'telepath,' I doubt he'll ever suspect anything."
A Wizard In War Page 19
