Gwen stepped up on the trail, holding Elidor's hand. His doublet and cloak showed seams and lining.

The elf-horse beside him reared, screaming and pawing the air. Then it leapt up and whipped away, blown on a sudden gust of northern wind.

The five riders shrieked in frustration, jumping their mounts high to meet the gust. So did all the faery host, leaping into the aif with a scream, and the breeze swept them away round the hill to the south, like autumn leaves.

Only Eorl Theofrin remained, his horse neighing and dancing as though it stood on hot coals. He himself winced and hunched his shoulders against pain, but managed to pull a crossbow from its place on his saddle, cranking the string back. "Thou hast cheated me full, wizard! Yet ere I succ.u.mb to pain and fly, I'll break thee for thy life!"

There wasn't a rock big enough to hide behind for a thousand paces. Rod stood his place, sword lifted, fighting a surge of panic. What that bolt could do, he didn't know-but he knew it was deadly. His one chance was to try to block it with his sword-but crossbow bolts moved very fast.

Theofrin leveled the bow.

Dimly, Rod was aware of that kindly, stern Presence with him again, rea.s.suring, urging.

Fervently and with his whole being, he wished the faery lord would go follow one of his own phantoms off a cliff- and wherever else it led him, all night long.

Theofrin suddenly dropped his bow, staring off to his left.

Rod stared, too. He glanced over toward where the Eorl was looking, then quickly back to Theofrin. He'd seen nothing.

"Nay, pretty maiden," Theofrin crooned, "come nigh to me!" And his horse began to move forward. "Nay, dost thou flee? " Theofrin grinned. "I'll follow!" And his horse leaped into a gallop.

Straight over the cliff.

And on up into the sky-it was a faery steed, after all- with Theofrin caroling, "Nay, come nigh! Nay, do not flee! I'll do thee no harm, but show thee great delightsj Ah, dost thou fly still? Then I'll follow thee, while breath doth last!"

Rod stared after him, stupefied, until Theofrin was only a lighted speck off to the east, that sank below a horizon-line of trees, and was gone.

"My lord!"

He turned. Gwen came running up, clasping Elidor's hand firmly. "My lord, I saw it all! Thou art untouched?"

"Uh..." Suddenly, Rod became aware of aches all over. "I wouldn't say that.

Those pinches hurt! But nothing lasting-I hope.""There shouldn't be, if Terran folk-tales hold true here." Father Al came puffing up. "But if he'd hit you with that crossbow-bolt, it might've been another matter."

"Oh?" Rod looked up, dreading the answer. "What kind of effects do those

things produce, Father?"

The priest shrugged. "Oh, epilepsy, rheumatism, a slipped disc, partial or full paralysis-it would be the same as any elf-shot, I a.s.sume."

"Oh, really." Rod felt his knees turn to water. "Gee, isn't it too bad he had to leave so suddenly."

"Yes, I was wondering about that." The priest frowned. "What was he chasing?" Rod shook his head. "Hanged if I know, Father. All I know is, I was wishing with all my might that he'd go follow one of his own will-o'-the-wisps over a cliff -and he did."

"Hm." Father Al's face instantly went neutral. "Well. Another datum."

Rod frowned; then he leveled a forefinger at the priest. "You're suspecting something." "Well, yes," the priest sighed, "but you know how foolish it is to state a thesis prematurely.""Yeah." Rod should know---Fess'd told him often enough. He sighed and straightened up. "Okay, Father- play 'em close to your chest. I'll just be real careful what I wish, from now on."

"Yes. "The priest nodded grimly. "I'ddothat, ifl were you."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A soft tinkling sounded.

The whole company stilled.

Reed pipes overlaid the tinkling; a flute underscored them.

Rod turned to Gwen. "I think we've got company."

"G.o.dmother!" Elidor cried.

They turned to watch as he scooted over the gra.s.s to the wealth of woman

beneath the firefly canopy. He leaped into her lap, arms outflung, and she gathered him in, pressing him against her more-than-ample bosom, resting her cheek on his head and crooning softly to him.

"Ever feel superfluous?" Rod asked.

"And never was so glad to feel so," Gwen affirmed. "Yet I think there is some

business for us here. Come, my lord." She gathered her children's hands, and marched forward. Rod sighed, caught Magnus's shoulder, and limped after her, while Father Al did a fast fade.

Gwen dropped a curtsey, and Cordelia imitated her. The boys bowed, and Rod bent forward as much as he could.The Grand d.u.c.h.ess noticed. "Does it pain thee so greatly, High Warlock?"Elidor looked up, startled."Not that High Warlock, "Rod a.s.sured him. "And, well, I've felt this way before, Your Grace-say, the day after the first time I went horse-back riding. It won't

last, will it?"

"Nay; 'tis only soreness," she a.s.sured him. "Yet trust me, 'tis suffering well- endured; though hast given him good rescue, as I knew thou wouldst."

"I'm glad somebody did. Well, you've got him safe, now-so, if you'll forgive us, we "11 be on our way. Come on, kids."

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess looked up, startled. "Thou wilt not take him to Lord Kern?"

Gwen caught Rod's sleeve. "a.s.suredly, an thou wishest it..."

"Uh, Gwen..."

"...yet will the royal lad not be safer with his G.o.dmother?" Gwen finished.

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess smiled sadly. "Safer, aye; but he'll not die 'mongst mortal men-both sides need him. And duty doth summon him."

Elidor clung to her, and buried his face in her bosom.

"Nay, sweet chick," she crooned softly, "thou dost know that I speak aright. Nay, nay, I would liefer keep thee all thy life beside me-but therein would I wrong mine old friends, the King and Queen thy parents, who bade me see that thou wouldst grow into a King; and the folk of thy land, who need thee grown. And lastly would I wrong thee, for I'd abort thy destiny. Come now, sweet chuck, bear up; sit tall, and give thyself a kingly bearing."

Slowly, the little boy sat up, sniffling. He looked at her forlornly, but she pinched his cheek gently, smiling sadly, and he smiled in spite of himself, sitting up more firmly. Then he turned to face the Gallowgla.s.ses, straightening and lifting his chin, once again a Prince.

"See thou, he is to be a King of men," the Grand d.u.c.h.ess said, low, "and therefore must he learn what men are, and not from written words alone. He must live and grow among them, good and bad alike, that when he comes to be a king, he'll recognize them both, and know their governance."

Gwen nodded sadly. "And therefore canst thou not keep him here, to hide him from the troubles of these times. But might thee not, at least, conduct him to Lord Kern?"

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess sighed. "I would I could; but know this of us faery folk: we are bound to our earthly haunts. Some among us, like myself, can claim demesnes of miles' width, and freely move within them; but few indeed are they who move wherever they please, and to none of those would I entrust this lad- or any folk, of whom I cared."

"But you would trust us." Rod could feel it coming.

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess nodded.

Gwen looked up at him, pleading.

"Oh, all right!" Rod clapped his hands. "Keeping track of children is mostly your

job, anyway. Sure, Your Grace, we'll take him along."

The children cheered.

Elidor looked surprised; then he smiled, a slow, shy smile.

Magnus ran forward, caught Elidor's arm, and yanked him off the Grand

d.u.c.h.ess's lap. "We'll keep thee close, coz! Yet mark thou, stay within mine eye this time!"

"I will stay near," Elidor promised.

"As near as one of mine own." Gwen gathered him in.

"Of course," Rod said, "it would help if we had someone to point us on our way." "Elidor will show you." The Grand d.u.c.h.ess was clasping her hands tightly, and her smile seemed a little strained. "He hath conned his charts, and doth know the shape of every track and pathway in his land."

"Well, that'll help," Rod said dubiously, "but real hills and lakes don't match a map all that well. It'd be better to have someone who's been there, too."

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess shook her head firmly. "The sprites cannot leave their lands or waters, as I've told thee."

"Tell us, then," Gwen asked, "what we must do to see him safely to Lord Kern."

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess nodded, her eyes lighting. "Thou must first rid the Tower of Gonkroma of its Redcap."

CHAPTER TWENTY.

"I don't really see what chasing some sort of elf has to do with getting safely to Lord Kern," Rod called.

Gwen said something back, but the roaring wind drowned out her answer.

"Come again, dear?" Rod called. "Louder, please; it's hard to hear, when I'm behind you, and the wind's whistling in my ears."

He was riding pillion on a makeshift broomstick.

"I said," Gwen called, "that I know no reason, but do trust her judgement."

"That's what it seems to come down to, here," Rod sighed, "faith. Wasn't that the medieval ethic, Father?" He looked back over his shoulder. Father Al was clinging to the broomstick for dear life, and was definitely looking a little green around the gills; but he swallowed, and nodded manfully. "Something like that, yes. It's a little more complicated, though."

"Well, I like to deal in over-simplifications. You sure you're okay, now?"

"Oh, fine, just fine! But are you sure your wife can carry all three of us for so long?"

"If I can bear four children," Gwen called back, "I can bear two men."

"There's some truth in that," Rod acknowledged. "After all, she's managed to bear with me for almost ten years now." He turned to the children, floating beside him. "Geoff, you be sure and tell us if you start feeling sleepy, now!"

"Fear not," Gwen called. "They napped well ere we left the Grand d.u.c.h.ess."