The Warlock in Spite of Himself

The murmuring wave came back at him now, with sullen, protesting voices. "We are men!" someone cried, and the crowd took it up, "We are men! We are men! We are men!"

"Aye!" shrieked the eye-patched hunchback. "But give us these dangling knaves who h' robbed us, Tuan, and we shall prove we are men! We shall rend them, shall flay them! We shall leave not an ounce of flesh to cling to their bones! We shall crack even their bones and hale out the marrow!"

The crowd howled in blood-lust.

Tuan straightened and folded his arms, smiling grimly. The crowd saw him; their roar subsided to a growl, with an undertone of guilt, then broke up into sullen lumps of murmurs, and stilled.

"Is this manhood?" said Tuan, almost quietly. "Nay!" His arm snapped out, pointing, accusing. "I ha' seen packs of dogs could do better!"

The muttering ran through the crowd, growing angrier, louder and louder.

"Careful, there!" Rod called to Tuan. "You'll have them tearing us apart next!"

"No fear," said Tuan, without taking his eyes from the crowd. "Yet let it work a while."

The muttering rose sharply. Here and there a man shouted, angry shouts, fists waved at Tuan where he stood on the balcony rail.

Tuan flung up his arms again, shouting, "But I say you are men!"

The crowd quieted, staring.

"There are others who slander you; but I call you men!" Then, looking from face to face: "And who will gainsay me?"

For a moment, they were quiet; then someone called, "None, Tuan!" and another answered, "None!"

"None!" called the several, and "None!" called the many, till "None!" roared the crowd.

"Will you prove you are men?" Tuan shouted.

"Aye!" the crowd bellowed.

"Will you fight?" Tuan howled, shaking a fist.

"Aye!" they cried, crowding closer with blood-thirst.

Tuan's hands shot out waist-high, palms down, fingers spread.

The crowd stilled.

His voice was hushed, chanting. "You were born to filth and the scabs of disease!"

"Aye," they muttered.

"You were born to the sweat of your joints, and the ache of your back in hard labor!"

"Aye!"

"You were born to the slack, empty belly and the want of a home!"

"Aye!"

"Who filled your bellies? Who gave you a roof for your head in this very house?"

"You did!"

"Who gave you a fortress?"

"You did!"

"Who?"

"You!"

"Tell me the name!"

"Tuan Loguire!" they shrieked.

"Aye!" Tuan's hands went out again; he stood crouched, eye afire.

"This was the misery I took from you. But who gave it to you at birth? Who is it has beaten you down, century upon century, from father to son, age upon age to the time of your remotest grandfathers?"

The crowd muttered, uncertain.

"The peasants?"

"Nay," the crowd answered.

"Was it the soldiers?"

"Aye!" they shouted, come to life again.

"And who rules the soldiers?"

"The nobles!"

Rod winced at the hate they packed into the word.

"Aye! 'Twas the nobles!" Tuan shouted, thrusting upward with his fist, and the crowd howled.

He let pandemonium reign for a few moments, then threw up his arms again.

Then his hands dropped down to belt-level again; he fell into the crouch.

"Who!" he demanded, and the drum throbbed behind him. "Who! Who alone of all the high-born took your part? Who gave you food when you cried for it, heard your petitions? Who sent judges among you, to give you justice instead of a nobleman's whim?"

His fist thrust upward with his whole body behind it, "The Queen!"

"The Queen!" they echoed him.

"She shut her ears to the noblemen, that she might hear your cries!"

"Aye!"

"She hath shed tears for you!"

"Aye!"

"Yet," cried the hunchback, "she cast you out, our Tuan Loguire!"

Tuan smiled sourly. "Did she? Or did she send me among you!" He threw up his arms, and they roared like an avalanche.

"It is the Queen who has given you your birthright again!"

"Aye!"

"Are you men?" Tuan shouted.

"We are!"

"Will you fight?"

"We will fight! We will fight!"

"Will you fight the noblemen?"

"Aye!"

"Will you fight for your Queen?"

"Aye!"

"Will you fight the noblemen for Catharine your Queen?"

"Aye! Ayeayeayeaye/"

Then the noise of the crowd covered all. The people leaped and shouted; men caught women and swung them about.

"Have you weapons?" Tuan shouted.

"Aye!" A thousand daggers leaped upward, gleaming.

"Catch up your packs, fill them with journeybread! Burst out of this house, through the south gate of the city! The Queen will give you food, give you tents! So run you all to the South, south along the great highway to Breden Plain, there to wait for the noblemen!

"Go doit!" he shouted. "Go nowiFor the Queen!"

"For the Queen!"

Tuan flipped his hand; the drum boomed loud and fast. "Hunting call!" Tuan snapped in aside to Rod.

Rod flourished the trumpet to his lips and began the quick, bubbling notes.

"Go!" Tuan roared.

The people broke, to their rooms, to the armory. In ten minutes time they had caught up packs, staffs, and knives.

"It is done!" Tuan leaped down off the rail to the balcony floor. "They'll ha' run down to Breden Plain in two days!" He grinned, slapping Big Tom's shoulders. "We ha' done it, Tom!"

Tom roared his laughter and threw his arms about Tuan in a bear-hug.

"Whew!" Tuan gasped as Tom dropped him. He turned to Rod. "Do you, friend Gallowglass, tell the Queen, and see that the word of it goes out to her soldiers. Tell her to send meat, tents, and ale, and right quickly. And do you hurl these lackeys"—his thumb jerked at the Mocker and his lieutenants—"deep into the Queen's dungeon. Farewell!" And he was bounding and leaping down the stairs.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Rod shouted, running to the rail. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To Breden Plain!" Tuan shouted, stopping to look back up. "I must guard my people, or they'll strip the countryside worse than any plague of locusts could do, and kill themselves off in a fight o'er the spoils. Do you tell Catharine of my"—he paused; a shadow crossed his face—"loyalty."

Then he was gone, leading the mob that boiled out the great front doors of the house, running before them in a wild, madcap dance.

Rod and Tom exchanged one glance, then turned and ran for the stairs to the roof.

They watched from the rooftop as the chanting mob poured out the south gate. Somehow, by means of the chant, Tuan had gotten them moving in good order, almost marching.

"Do you think he needs any help?" Rod murmured.

Tom threw back his head and guffawed. "Him, master? Nay, nay! Rather, help those who come up against him, with that army at his back!"

"But only one man, Tom! To lead two thousand misfits!"

"Canst doubt it, master, when thou hast seen his power? Or didst thou not see?"

"Oh, I saw." Rod nodded, light-headed. 'There's more witchcraft in this land than I thought, Big Tom. Yes, I saw."

"Waken the Queen, and beg of her that she join us here in her audience chamber!" Brom snapped at a hastily-wakened lady-in-waiting. "Go!"

He slammed the door and turned to the fireplace, where Rod sat with a bleary-eyed Toby, rudely awakened after only an hour o sleep; the nightly party in the Witches' Tower had run a little late tonight. He held a steaming mug in his hand and a throb in his head.

"Assuredly," he muttered thickly, "we wish to aid the Queen in any manner we may; but what aid would we be in a battle?"

"Leave that to me." Rod smiled. "I'll find something for you to do. You just get the Queen's Witches down to Breden Plain by… uh…"

"Three days hence." Brom smiled. "We march at dawn, and will be three days in our journey."