Christopher Stasheff - The Warlock is Missing

"I have not," the lad answered, "but the Shire-Reeve hath!"

The crowd fell silent, astonished.

It was quiet enough for Geoffrey to hear the words Magnus whispered in his ear: "We know now whence he cometh!"

Geoffrey nodded, and his eyes glittered.

"The Shire-Reeve hath fought in lordlings' armies!" the false Geoffrey cried. "When young, he fought for the Queen against the rebels! Again he fought, chasing out the Beastmen from our isle! And anon he fought, when Tudor called, against the depredating bands of other nobles—and he hath grown sick at heart, from seeing all their wanton waste!"

"Yet how can he, a man of common birth, stand against a belted knight?" a man in the crowd called.

"Because his rank is royal!" the boy called back. "He is the King's reeve, for all the shire! And if he doth now bid the nobles cease their brawling, can any say him nay?"

The rumble agreed, gaining heart.

"Come follow me, and I shall lead thee to him!" cried the lad. "Come join the Shire-Reeve, and fight 'gainst those who do oppress thee!"

"This swells too greatly," muttered a baritone by Magnus's knee. "We must spoke his wheels." A second later, a voice from the middle of the mob called, "How dost thou know where thou mayest find him?" The men in that location looked around, startled, but the boy answered,

"We know that he doth quarter in the town of Belmead. We've but to go, and attend his pleasure!"

"And will he welcome us?" called a voice from another part of the crowd, "or will he think we come against him?"

Again, men turned to look, but the imitation Geoffrey answered, "How could he think thus? Assuredly he'll welcome thee!" >

"How couldst thou know?" cried another disembodied voice from a third quarter. "What lad art thou, to speak thus?"

The boy reddened. "I am the High Warlock's son, as I have told thee! Dost thou doubt my word?" And he turned to call out over the crowd, "Can any call me false?"

"Aye!" Geoffrey cried. "I call thee false!" And he sprang into the air, arrowing straight toward the wagon, landing straight and tall, turning to look out over the crowd proudly, then turning further, to glare at the imposter.

The boy stared, thunderstruck. So did the crowd, confronted by two Geoffreys—and indeed, the imposter was Geoffrey's exact double, matching him inch for inch and feature for feature. A frightened murmur began.

"How sayest thou now, O false one?" Geoffrey demanded. "Tell us thy true name!"

The boy's chin lifted. "I am Geoffrey Gallowglass, the High Warlock's son! And who art thou , who doth dare to walk in my semblance?"

"Thou liest, rogue!" Geoffrey shouted. "How durst thou claim my place?"

"Thy charges shall avail thee naught," the double answered, "for 'tis plain to any I am the true Gallowglass!"

A shriek of rage pierced the air, and Cordelia shot over the heads of the crowd on her broomstick, leaping down to the wagon and crying, "Thou liest, rogue! This is my brother, Geoffrey Gallowglass! And I am his sister, the High Warlock's daughter Cordelia!"

A double explosion cracked, and Magnus stood behind her with Gregory at his hip. "She speaks good sooth! And I am Magnus, the High Warlock's eldest!"

"And I his youngest!" Gregory piped. "We all now tell thee, goodfolk, that thou hast been deceived!"

"Even so!" Magnus shouted to the crowd, and clapped the real Geoffrey on the shoulder. " This is my brother, the true Geoffrey Gallowglass! He whom thou hast followed is a false and lying knave!"

Geoffrey cast them all a brief, warm look of gratitude, while the imposter stared, appalled. But he recovered quickly and cried aloud, "They all conspire against me! Why, these four are no more brothers and sister than I am a cockerel! Their claim is false, for I am the true Warlock's child!"

A fearful mutter swept through the crowd, as Cordelia howled in anger and leaped at the boy. Her brothers caught her and held her back, though, and Magnus said evenly, "Nay," then cried aloud for the crowd, "Nay, thou hast no need to claw him with thy nails! Thou art a witch; thou hast but to mink him ill!"

Cordelia's eyes glittered, and the boy said quickly, "Oh, aye, belike thou art truly witch-brats! Indeed, I saw thee fly —but that's no proof that thou art the High Warlock's brood!"

"What proof hast thou ?" Geoffrey retorted.

"Why, this!" and the boy rose five feet into the air, smoothly and easily. A rumble of awe and fear rose from the crowd.

"What proof is that?" Geoffrey sneered, rising up to match him, but Gregory murmured to Magnus, "Ah, then! He is, at the least, truly a warlock!"

" 'Tis the only aspect of him that is true," Magnus growled back.

"Show other proof," Geoffrey taunted, "that I may match and best thee!"

The boy reddened, and disappeared with a bang. Its echo sounded from across the common, and everyone whirled, to see him standing on the roof of a cottage. "Match this an thou canst!" he cried.

"What warlock cannot?" Geoffrey retorted. Air boomed in to fill the space where he'd been, then blasted atop the cottage next to the one on which the young warlock stood, as Geoffrey appeared next to its chimney.

"They look alike, and both work magic!" someone in the crowd cried. "How can we tell which one is true?"

"Why," Cordelia answered proudly, "by their moving lifeless objects! For the High Warlock's lads, alone of all the warlocks in Gramarye, can move things other than themselves!"

The fake paled, but he bounced back instantly, sneering at Geoffrey, "Dost need a lass to speak for thee?"

"Why," Geoffrey retorted, "art thou envious because thou hast no sister?"

"Thou liest, rogue!" the imposter shouted. "My sister bides at home!"

"For such a fib, thou shouldst be caned," Geoffrey snapped, and a quarterstaff wrenched itself out of the hands of a peasant who shrank back with an oath. The stick shot spinning straight toward the false Geoffrey. The boy saw it coming and leaped into the air; the stick passed under him, and he turned to Geoffrey with a taunting laugh.

"Wherefore didst thou move thyself, rather than the staff?" Geoffrey demanded.

The boy frowned. "It did not please me to do so!"

"Then thy pleasures must change," Geoffrey said, with a sour smile. " 'Ware, from thy back!"

The imposter spun about, just in time to see the whirling staff make a great half circle and come spinning back at him. He howled, throwing himself flat on the rooftop, and the staff passed over him. As he scrambled to his hands and knees, it paused and lashed one quick spank across his bottom. He went sprawling with a cry of rage, but Geoffrey's yell of accusation was louder. " Now wherefore didst thou not seize the stick with thy mind?"

The imposter stood up slowly, glaring in fury, but made no answer.

"Thou didst not because thou canst not!" Geoffrey cried. "I am the true Geoffrey Gallowglass!"

"Thou art the true liar!" the boy shouted back. "Thou didst move that staff no more than I did! 'Twas thy tame witch who did move it for thee!"

Cordelia howled in indignation, but Gregory said reasonably, "Whether my brother be the true Geoffrey or not, thou must needs be false—for all Gramarye doth know that the High Warlock's sons can move things with their minds. And thou canst not!"

The crowd rumbled in excitement, but the boy shouted, "'Tis a lie! No warlock can move things by thought! If thou sayest the High Warlock's sons can, then do it thyself!"

"Why, that I shall," the six-year-old lisped, and Cordelia floated gently up into the air. She squawked in fury and whirled, trying to reach her little brother, but Magnus cried, "Aye! All know a witch cannot make herself fly! 'Tis why she doth sit on a broomstick and make it to move! Now wilt thou say my sister doth this trick for her brother?"