healing. The poor soldier has been given a ‘suggestion’ by his commander. His commander is Burner Stox.”
At the mention of the wizard’s name, the bisonbeck fell forward and writhed on the ground. Gymn and Metta fluttered in the air for a moment and then came to roost on Kale. The minor dragons huddled close to her cheeks, and Gymn rubbed his chin against her face.
“A very ugly sickness, indeed.” She stroked Gymn’s wing. “Implanted by evil, the malady will be hard to dislodge.”
“Well,” said Gilda, kneeling beside the man, “I’m rather good at suggestions myself.”
She clasped the soldier’s head between her two strong, slender hands and forced him to gaze into her eyes. His struggling ceased.
“You are no longer under Stox’s authority. You are mine. I command you. The thought of answering to Stox sickens you. I free you from her and offer you a place of honor among my followers. You accept with pride.”
The soldier’s expression relaxed, and he nodded. “As you say, Mistress.”
“How were you able to use the shield?”
“Burner Stox, that foul and evil wizard, has selected a few of her best warriors and endowed them with special abilities. Crim Cropper—”
His speech broke off, and he resumed the fierce shaking and moaning.
Gilda grabbed the hair on his chin and brought his head around. “You are no longer under the authority of Crim Cropper. You are mine!”
Again, the soldier calmed.
“Now tell me Crim Cropper’s part in this.”
The bisonbeck gulped, his eyes bulged, and his body trembled, betraying the depth of his subordination to the husband of Burner Stox.
Gilda snarled. “Mine! You no longer fear Stox or Cropper. Your allegiance is to me.”
He nodded.
“I’m waiting,” Gilda reminded him.
“Crim Cropper.” He licked his lips. “Cropper, that foul and evil wizard, used potions to enhance our memories. Stox recited the words that would conjure the images she implanted in our thoughts. The shields hide us from the enemy.” He stopped, and a confused expression crumpled his features.
“Cropper and Stox are your enemies.” Gilda sighed her exasperation. “I am your commander.”
His brow smoothed. “The enemy cannot detect the shields with mind, eye, or touch.”
Gilda glanced at Regidor, who winked at her. “In theory, but not in fact. I could even smell the bisonbeck supposedly hidden in the box.”
Kale nodded. “Using Granny Noon’s advice, I easily found the shield.”
Granny Noon shifted so she could get a better look at the prisoner. “Is he saying that Stox and Cropper have been able to give their warriors a shield, much like Fenworth once gave Dar the shell he uses in battle?”
“Yes,” said Bardon, “only it doesn’t seem to be very effective.”
“That will make Burner Stox unpleasantly irritable.” Kale summoned the rest of her minor dragons. They settled on her, decorating the moonbeam cape like large, colorful jewels.
Granny Noon crooked her arm through Kale’s. “I have something to say to you, my dear.”
“Uh-oh.” Regidor snickered.
The emerlindian raised her eyebrows at him. “Don’t pretend you haven’t had your share of lectures, young man.”
The chagrined look on Regidor’s face surprised Kale and almost made her giggle.
“Yes ma’am,” he said. “We’ll just ask this prisoner a few more questions while we wait for you to have your little talk with Kale.”
His eyes shifted to Kale’s.
“You’re going to wish you were being interrogated by us rather than being exhorted by our Granny Noon.”
Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t done anything, have I?
Granny Noon patted Kale’s arm and tugged her away from the others.
“I’m in trouble?” asked the o’rant wizard.
“I want to caution you against using falsehoods. First, you are not very believable. Second, your talents are eroded by deception.”
“You didn’t like the story about my causing a man pain by messing up his
At the mention of the wizard’s name, the bisonbeck fell forward and writhed on the ground. Gymn and Metta fluttered in the air for a moment and then came to roost on Kale. The minor dragons huddled close to her cheeks, and Gymn rubbed his chin against her face.
“A very ugly sickness, indeed.” She stroked Gymn’s wing. “Implanted by evil, the malady will be hard to dislodge.”
“Well,” said Gilda, kneeling beside the man, “I’m rather good at suggestions myself.”
She clasped the soldier’s head between her two strong, slender hands and forced him to gaze into her eyes. His struggling ceased.
“You are no longer under Stox’s authority. You are mine. I command you. The thought of answering to Stox sickens you. I free you from her and offer you a place of honor among my followers. You accept with pride.”
The soldier’s expression relaxed, and he nodded. “As you say, Mistress.”
“How were you able to use the shield?”
“Burner Stox, that foul and evil wizard, has selected a few of her best warriors and endowed them with special abilities. Crim Cropper—”
His speech broke off, and he resumed the fierce shaking and moaning.
Gilda grabbed the hair on his chin and brought his head around. “You are no longer under the authority of Crim Cropper. You are mine!”
Again, the soldier calmed.
“Now tell me Crim Cropper’s part in this.”
The bisonbeck gulped, his eyes bulged, and his body trembled, betraying the depth of his subordination to the husband of Burner Stox.
Gilda snarled. “Mine! You no longer fear Stox or Cropper. Your allegiance is to me.”
He nodded.
“I’m waiting,” Gilda reminded him.
“Crim Cropper.” He licked his lips. “Cropper, that foul and evil wizard, used potions to enhance our memories. Stox recited the words that would conjure the images she implanted in our thoughts. The shields hide us from the enemy.” He stopped, and a confused expression crumpled his features.
“Cropper and Stox are your enemies.” Gilda sighed her exasperation. “I am your commander.”
His brow smoothed. “The enemy cannot detect the shields with mind, eye, or touch.”
Gilda glanced at Regidor, who winked at her. “In theory, but not in fact. I could even smell the bisonbeck supposedly hidden in the box.”
Kale nodded. “Using Granny Noon’s advice, I easily found the shield.”
Granny Noon shifted so she could get a better look at the prisoner. “Is he saying that Stox and Cropper have been able to give their warriors a shield, much like Fenworth once gave Dar the shell he uses in battle?”
“Yes,” said Bardon, “only it doesn’t seem to be very effective.”
“That will make Burner Stox unpleasantly irritable.” Kale summoned the rest of her minor dragons. They settled on her, decorating the moonbeam cape like large, colorful jewels.
Granny Noon crooked her arm through Kale’s. “I have something to say to you, my dear.”
“Uh-oh.” Regidor snickered.
The emerlindian raised her eyebrows at him. “Don’t pretend you haven’t had your share of lectures, young man.”
The chagrined look on Regidor’s face surprised Kale and almost made her giggle.
“Yes ma’am,” he said. “We’ll just ask this prisoner a few more questions while we wait for you to have your little talk with Kale.”
His eyes shifted to Kale’s.
“You’re going to wish you were being interrogated by us rather than being exhorted by our Granny Noon.”
Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t done anything, have I?
Granny Noon patted Kale’s arm and tugged her away from the others.
“I’m in trouble?” asked the o’rant wizard.
“I want to caution you against using falsehoods. First, you are not very believable. Second, your talents are eroded by deception.”
“You didn’t like the story about my causing a man pain by messing up his
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