Warlock and Son by Christopher Stasheff

Author:Christopher Stasheff
Language: eng
Format: epub

8

Rod looked up, then looked up again, wide-eyed. Sure enough, that was Magnus, riding into the village square. But why the look of cold determination? What had happened to his son in the forest?

Somehow, he didn't think he should ask. The lad would tell him, if and when he was ready.

But there were some things he could say. He stepped toward the young man, waving. "Good to see you back, son! Changed your mind?"

"Resolved it, rather." Magnus dismounted and stood beside him. "We must have some purpose in living, must we not? And if we have none, we must make it." He glanced around to be sure no one was near, and lowered his voice. "Folk have the right to leave this place, if they wish it. Let us see if there are any we should aid."

Rod grinned and slapped Magnus on the shoulder while he wondered at the boy's words. But there would be time enough to puzzle them out later. For now, mending fences was more important. "I don't know about you, but it's been a while since I've eaten. Let's go find a tankard of ale and something to munch."

Magnus glanced up at the sun. "Aye; 'tis noon. I find I could surround a flagon."

"Just take the ale out of it first, okay?"

They found the tavern, got a tankard each and some sausage, that being all the tavernkeeper had on hand. He served them himself, since Hester was still in school. Rod watched Magnus keenly for signs of regret, but didn't spot more than a sardonic twist of the lips.

They had no sooner begun to eat than a shadow darkened the doorway, and the grizzled peasant Roble came in, walking heavily, face pale and grim. He leaned on the counter and said, "Corin! A stoup of ale, an it please thee!"

Corin did a double take, then shied away as though he were looking at an unclean spirit. "It pleaseth me not, Roble! For I cannot o'erlook the sins thou hast committed in leading thy son to take his own life."

"'Twas not I who pushed him thither, but His Grace the bishop!"

"Blasphemy!" Corin gasped. "I cannot serve thee, Roble, when thou wilt not confess to thy sins! Look no more upon me!"

"Since when was it blasphemy to criticize a priest?" Magnus murmured to Rod.

"Since that priest decided it was," Rod murmured back. "Hush, son, and listen."

Roble narrowed his eyes. "I will look most shrewdly upon thee, till thou dost give me mine stoup of ale."

Corin's face set itself into grim lines. He turned away to dust and polish.

Roble stood and glowered at him.

Corin's shoulders squared, and he went on bustling about, then turned away and went out to the kitchen.

Roble sagged and lowered his eyes.

Magnus glanced at Rod, then stood and stepped over to the bar. He leaned across and hooked a tankard off its peg. He beckoned to Roble, who looked up in surprise, then followed him back to the table, where Rod and Magnus were each pouring half their tankards into the empty one.

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