"Yet what is rock, then?"
"Only earth, packed tightly. "
"And what's a tree?"
"Why, a thing compounded out of earth and water!"
"And iron?"
Puck shuddered; iron was poison to elves. "Let us speak rather of copper. Where dost thou find it? Why, where rocks are put into fire! What should it be, then, but a thing made up of earth and fire?"
And so it went. Puck had very definite views about everything in nature, and the children began to become interested, in spite of themselves.
"Now, there do be three trees only that do signify, " Puck lectured, "Oak, Ash, and Thorn. "
Gregory frowned. "What of the pine?"
"Fit only to be brought within doors, for the Yuletide. "
"What of the holly and the ivy?"
"The one's a bush, the other a vine. I speak of trees!"
"What of the briar, and the rose?"
What could Puck do then but sigh, and tell them all the tale, the sad, winding story of Fair Margaret and Sweet William, of their meeting and courtship, of his leaving her to wed another woman, and Sweet Margaret's death, and Sweet William's, and the briar and the rose sprouting from their graves, to climb to the top of the church steeple and twine in a true lover's knot.
Cordelia sat enthralled throughout it, but the boys did begin to seem a little restless; so of course, for them, Puck had to tell the tale of the child Merlin, and his capture by the evil King Vortigem, of the tower that would not stand and the two dragons that slept under it. From there, one tale led to another, of course—of the boy Arthur, and his growing to become a king who brought peace and plenty to a strife-torn England; of Lancelot, his bravest knight, and his saving of the sweet Elaine; of their son Galahad, and his quest for the Holy Grail; and of Arthur's nephew Gawain, and the Green Knight.
"And what of his brothers?" Geoffrey demanded. "What of Agravaine, and Gareth and Gaheris?"
"Ah, but if thou hast heard of them aforetime, " Puck sighed, "wherefore shouldst thou need to hear of them again?"
"Because the tale is always filled with wonder and magic!" "But most so when
thou
dost tell it, Robin. " Cordelia already knew the virtues of a compliment.
So did Puck, but he puffed out his chest and grinned any-way. "Ah, but I've had such practice at the telling of them— hundreds of years! Yet the hour groweth late, and I think I smell a supper cooking. "
Four little heads snapped up; four small noses sniffed the
evening air. Then four voices yelped, and the boys disappeared in miniature thunderclaps. Cordelia leaped on her broomstick, and sped like an arrow toward the front door, crying, " 'Tis not fair! Thou must not commence without me!" Puck heaved a long, shaky sigh. "Eh! I've kept them busy for this one day, at least. Yet how shall I manage for the
morrow
?"
But the next day took care of itself; for Cordelia awoke before the sun was up, and sprang to her window to look for her parents—and, by the cool, moist gray light that comes before dawn, she saw, in their garden, a unicorn.
She was tall and slender, milk-white, with a golden mane and a gilded horn; and as a cry of delight welled up within Cordelia, the unicorn lifted her head and looked right into Cordelia's eyes. The girl froze in wonder.
Then the unicorn turned away, lowering her head to graze among Mama's flowers, and Cordelia rushed to pull on a dress, hose, and slippers, and ran out into the garden, still lacing her bodice.
She skidded to a halt, realizing again that she might scare the unicorn away; but she had nothing to fear. The unicorn stood quietly, watching her, chewing on a mouthful of sweet clover, and Cordelia caught her breath, enchanted by its beauty.
Then the unicorn lowered her head to the clover, and Cordelia felt saddened, because she could no longer see the great, lovely eyes. She plumped down in the grass, sitting on her heels, and pulled a patch of sweet dill from the herb-bed. She held it out in her open palm, calling softly, "Come. Oh, come, I beg thee, most beauteous one—for I long to stroke thy velvet cheek, and caress thy silken mane!"
The unicorn turned, lifting her head, and looked right into Cordelia's eyes again. The girl watched, scarcely daring to breathe, as the unicorn came toward her slowly, one delicate step at a time, until she stood right in front of Cordelia, and slowly lowered her muzzle to accept the dill. A thrill shot through Cordelia as the unicorn's soft, gentle nose tickled her palm, and she hurried to pull some more dill with her left hand. The unicorn took that, too, staring into Cordelia's eyes. Greatly daring, she reached out slowly to rest her hand upon the muzzle. The unicorn moved her head, letting Cordelia's hand rub against her cheek, and the girl stroked the velvet
smoothness, breathing in delight, "Oh! Thou art so beautiful!"
The unicorn bowed her head, accepting the tribute and pawing the turf. Cordelia reached out her other hand to touch the golden mane.
The unicorn's head snapped up, and Cordelia snatched her hand back, afraid she had offended. Then she saw that the unicorn wasn't moving away, but was staring toward the house. Following the direction of her gaze, she saw her brothers, standing together just outside the back door, wide-eyed in wonder.
Cordelia couldn't speak aloud, for fear of frightening the unicorn; so she pressed her lips tight in anger and thought at her brothers,
Thou great oafs! Begone, ere thou dost scare her away
!
She doth not seem afrighted
, Magnus thought back at Cordelia,
nor ought she; we come only to watch
.
But Geoffrey's thought came right after:
Ah! How fine a thing 'twould be, to ride so fine a mount
! And he stepped forward, raising a hand.
NAY
! Cordelia's thought fairly shrieked.
Thou wilt afright her
!
And, true enough, the unicorn moved back a pace. Geoffrey froze.
A frown puckered little Gregory's brow.
Was it truly Geoffrey caused her to move? Let me see
. And he took a step.
Thou little lummox
! Cordelia fumed.
Wilt thou leave her to me
!
The unicorn moved another step away.
Why, she is not thine
! Geoffrey thought, in indignation.
Thou canst not bid us not to touch her
!
Yet
the unicorn
can
. Magnus pressed a hand against Geoffrey's chest to hold him back.
Cordelia's right in this
—
we do afright the beast
.
But Gregory shook his head, and whispered aloud, "She is not frighted. "
The unicorn's gaze riveted on the youngest.
"See. " Gregory spoke a little louder. "She doth hear me, yet doth not flee. "
"Then she will let us come nigh her!" Geoffrey took another step.
Nay
! Cordelia thought furiously; and sure enough, the unicorn stepped away again.
Magnus pushed Geoffrey back, and the younger boy
scowled, sulking. "I thought Gregory did say she did not fear us. "
"Nor doth she. " The youngest still sat on his heels in the grass, gazing at the unicorn. "Still, she will abide us no closer than we are now. "
"Yet she did come nigh Cordelia!"
Gregory nodded. "And will again, I doubt not. Attempt it, sister. "
Cordelia stared at him as though he were crazy. Then she frowned, musing, and turned back to the unicorn. Slowly, she stepped toward it.
The unicorn stood still, as though it were waiting.
Thrilled, Cordelia took another step, then another and another.
Still the unicorn waited, unmoving.
Finally, Cordelia's outstretched hand touched the unicorn's neck, and she stepped close, reaching up to stroke. "Oh, thou hast let me come nigh thee!"
"'Tis not…" Geoffrey started to yell; but Magnus clamped a hand over his mouth—with the palm cupped, so his brother couldn't bite it. Geoffrey glared at him, thinking furiously, '
Tis not fair! Wherefore ought it to allow
her
to approach, and not us
?
"'Tis the way of unicorns," Gregory answered. "I mind me, for I read it in a book of a time."
Geoffrey glared at him. Gregory had been reading for two years now, and it drove Geoffrey crazy.
"They will allow maids to approach," Gregory explained, "yet not lads."
Geoffrey turned away, fuming.
The unicorn lay down, tucking his legs beneath her body.
Cordelia stared in surprise. Then a radiant smile spread over her face and, very carefully, she leaned forward, resting her weight on the unicorn's back.
"Now 'tis
thou
who wilt afright her!" Geoffrey hissed; but Cordelia turned slowly till she was sitting sideways on the unicorn.
Magnus stiffened. "Cordelia! I prithee, come away! For of a sudden, I do sense danger!"
"Pooh!" she scoffed. "Thou art but jealous!"
"Nay!" Magnus protested. " 'Tis more than that! I…"
So smoothly that she seemed to float, the unicorn stood up again. Cordelia gasped with joy.
"Cordelia, thou art but mean!" Geoffrey cried in outrage. "Thou art selfish, aye, and spiteful!"
"'Tis the unicorn's choice, not mine," she returned. "Am I to blame if she doth find thee vile?"
"Cordelia, I prithee!" Magnus insisted, really alarmed. "Where might she take thee?"
"Why, wheresoe'er she will," Cordelia answered; and sure enough, the unicorn turned away toward the forest.
The shouting brought Puck out, rubbing sleep from his eyes and scowling. "What coil is this?"
"A monster doth abduct our sister!" Magnus cried.
The unicorn trotted away.
Puck stared after it. "A monster? Where?"
"There!" Geoffrey shouted, and he ran after the unicorn. "Thou one-horned thief! Come back with my sister!"
"Nay, Geoffrey! Fly!" Magnus leaped into the air.
Geoffrey looked up at him, startled. Then he grinned, and leaped ten feet up. "What ails me, brother? I had forgot!"
Gregory sped toward his two brothers like a stone from a slingshot. Together, they darted after the unicorn.
With a crack like a gunshot, Puck appeared right in front of mem, hovering in midair. "Halt, younglings! Where dost
thou
think to go?"
"Why, after the beast who doth bear off our sister!" Magnus said. "Do not seek to bar us, Robin! She's endangered!"
"Endangered! Nay, speak sense! Ne'er hath a unicorn offered harm to a maiden!"
"If 'tis not from the beast itself, 'tis from something it doth bear her to! I tell thee, Puck, I feel dread in every bone!"
Puck hesitated. He had some idea of Magnus's powers, but nothing definite; not even the boy's own parents knew the limits of his abilities. He could do things that no Gramarye warlock had ever been able to do—nor any witch either, for that matter. Why might he not also be able to see the future? Puck was sure the boy's father had one of his nonsensical words for the power—as though the talent would not be there if there were no word for it!
But whatever danger there was, Puck was quite sure he could handle it—unless it were something that needed a score of elves. And if it did, why, he had the score at hand. He weighed that chance of manageable danger against the exasperation of trying to keep four young magic-workers occupied
for another day, and decided that the danger was definitely the lesser risk. "Well enough, then, thou mayest pursue. For if there's any slightest danger…"
But he was talking to empty air. While he had hesitated, the three young warlocks had disappeared with a thunderclap.
"Owls and batwings!" Puck cried in exasperation, and darted off after the unicorn.
Chapter 2
Through the forest went the unicorn, so smoothly that she seemed to glide. Dabs of sunlight lay here and there about, making the green of the leaves seem darker, but filling the woods with brightness. Cordelia rode blithely through the cool shade, singing with joy, happily ignoring her brothers, who flitted through the trees to either side, calling for her to stop.
Puck had vanished.
Then Cordelia rode out of the trees and into a village.
It was very small, perhaps a dozen houses, set against the foot of a rocky slope, with open meadow between itself and the forest. Cordelia called out happily, expecting people to look up in amazement when they saw her astride her unicorn.
Only silence answered.
Cordelia lost her smile. She stared ahead, realizing that she could see no one in the village, not a soul.
Gregory swooped toward her. The unicorn shied, and he swerved away, calling, "Cordelia, none live in that village— and there hath been fire! Turn back!"
"I cannot," Cordelia answered. " 'Tis the unicorn who doth go where she wist, not I who guide her." Though, truth to tell, she suspected that her mount would have turned aside, if Cordelia had asked it of her.
Now that they were closer, she could see the remains of the fire Gregory had spoken of. The walls of the cottages were scorched, their thatched roofs burned away, leaving only charred timbers. A huge black blemish hid the village common; what was left of its green field was brown and brittle grass. Doors swung ajar; bowls and tools lay scattered where they had fallen.
The deserted village lay silent; the only sound was the sigh of the wind. A shutter clattered against a window, then sagged open again. In the forest behind them, birds sang—but none here.
Magnus hovered near a roof-beam, reaching out to touch it. He snatched his hand away with an oath. " 'Tis yet hot, and embers glow. This fire burned not long agone."
Geoffrey nodded, landing near the square, looking about him. "The doors may swing in the wind, but none have torn from their hinges—nor are the wooden bowls and tool-handles weathered."