Now where have you hidden him?'
Ice crawled up Vanyel's spine. All they have to do is point a finger at me - and even if they don't, if I call Yfandes for help, he 'II know where I am. Oh, gods, can I hide? I can't challenge him! They can't expect it of me - I'm no match for him!
But to his surprise, not a single one of those remaining in the square answered the wizard's question. In fact, the men standing in front of Vanyel moved closer together, as if to shield him from the wizard's chance sight.
The wizard's voice sharpened with impatience. 'I grow weary, curs. Where is the stranger I sensed?'
Silence.
Except for the herb-witch, who whispered back at Vanyel, with the merest breath - 'Stay quiet, boy. You're no fit opponent for him, and we know it. Won't do any of us any good for you to get caught, and he just may take us apart for spite even if he gets you. Maybe if he gets bored, he'll go away.'
'I said, I want to know where the stranger is.' The wizard looked about him, both hands on his hips now, and anger in his pose. 'Very well. I see it's time you learned another lesson.' He turned slightly, so that he was staring right at the group clustered in front of Vanyel, and raised his left hand. 'You - Gallen.' He made a little summoning motion. 'Come here…'
Gallen made a staggering step, then another. He was fighting the wizard with his will, but losing. Sweat popped out all over his brow, and he made a whimpering noise in the back of his throat.
Behind him, the group closed ranks, still shielding Vanyel from view. Before him, the wizard grinned sadistically. 'You really haven't a hope of fighting me, you know,' he said pleasantly. 'It's like a babe challenging an armed warrior. Come along, there's a good dog.'
Gallen ran the last few steps, coming to a trembling halt at the wizard's side. Krebain strolled around him, looking him over carefully. The mage-light followed in faithful attendance above his head. 'Let's see - I believe you have a wife.'' He swept his gaze over the rest of the villagers. 'Yes, indeed - and there she is. Reva - my goodness. A would-be sword-lady, are you? Come here, my dear.'
He crooked his finger, and dusky Reva stumbled out of the group at the barricade on the west road, still clutching her improvised pike of a knife strapped to the end of a staff. Her face was strained, white - and a mask of despair.
Krebain shook his head. 'Really, my dear, you have no use for a weapon like that. Take it from her, Gallen.'
Gallen did not move; sweat poured down his face, glistening in the mage-light.
'I said, take it. ' Krebain's voice sharpened with command, and Gallen's gnarled hands slowly reached forward to take the pike from his wife.
'Now - just rest the point of that wicked little knife on her stomach, why don't you.' Gallen his face reflecting his agony, lowered the pike until the point of the blade touched his wife's stomach. He whimpered again as Krebain's will made him brace it. Krebain's smile grew broader. 'Of course, Reva, it would be very painful if you were to walk forward just now - '
Vanyel couldn't bear it. He gathered what little there was of his courage, and shouted, his voice breaking.
'Stop it!'
He pushed his protectors aside and walked out from behind them to stand in the open, a pace or two in front of them.
And in the moment when Krebain turned to face him, licking his lips, he Mindcalled with all his strength -
'That's enough, child.'
Vanyel felt a barrier close down around the village, a barrier that allowed no thought to escape, and no further call for help.
He raised his chin with the same bleak defiance that had served him against his father.
'Let them alone, wizard,' he said, his voice trembling despite his efforts to keep it steady. He could feel sweat trickling coldly down the back of his neck and his mouth was dry and sour with fear. 'I'm the one you wanted.'
Krebain made a dismissing gesture, and Reva and Gallen staggered as his hold over them was released. Gallen threw down the pike and seized her shoulders, and together they melted into the crowd at Krebain's back.
'Come where I can see you,' the wizard said, mildly.
Vanyel walked, with slow and hesitant steps, into the area where the mage-light was striking.
'What a pleasant surprise - '
Unless Krebain was feigning it - which was possible - he was surprised.
And - pleased.
If Vanyel could keep him in that mood, maybe he could keep them all safe a little longer. He began to feel a tiny stirring of hope.
'What a truly pleasant surprise. My would-be enemy is a beautiful young man. What is your name, lovely one?'
Vanyel saw no reason not to answer him. If nothing else - if Yfandes had heard him, he'd be buying time for help to arrive. He allowed himself a moment to hope a little more, then replied, 'Vanyel Ashkevron.'
