"Yves Mortain is simply doing his job," said Angie.

"Yes, you"re right," said Jim. Yves Mortain had been named Chief man-at-arms when Theoluf had been elevated to the position of Jim"s squire. Yves was entirely competent; and, to tell the truth, Jim was secretly aware that Yves knew a lot more than he did about how a castle should be defended and a watch on the gate should be kept.

But already through the doors of the gate, opening now to the bridge above the moat, the sound of the hooves of the first two horses of their visitors were audible, and Sir John rode through the gate into the courtyard, looking elegant and barely middle-aged as usual, on a large black stallion which whisked its tail as it approached, as proudly and cheerfully as if it was just starting the day"s trip, not ending it. It halted in front of them.

"Sir John!" said Jim happily. "It"s good to see you!"

Sir John took off his steel cap with a flourish.



"Sir James, Lady Angela!" he said. "I bring special news for you, and I wanted to be the first to get it to you. So I have come down from London. Shall we go inside?"

"Absolutely!" said Jim. He looked around for his squire.

But Theoluf had already appeared, with a man-at-arms to lead the train of Sir John"s armed retainers off to the stables for their horses, and to shelter for themselves, as well as, undoubtedly, to food and drink.

Theoluf himself came forward to hold the head of the stallion, as Sir John swung down from the saddle.

"By your leave, Sir John," said Theoluf, "I will have him in the third stall from the front door to the stables and the best care taken of him. May I ask his name?"

"He is Tonnere de Beaudry," said Sir John.

"This way, if you please, Tonnere de Beaudry," said Theoluf, addressing the war horse with the courtesy its worth deserved, and leading it off.

Sir John turned back to Jim and Angie, and all three together began the walk toward the entrance of the Great Hall. Thoroughly chilled by this time, Jim would just as soon have moved a little faster, but manners dictated that their stroll to the front door be leisurely.

"I can only stay the night," said Sir John. "I have matters to deal with in the west. But my way led by Malvern Castle, where I had hoped to possibly encounter Sir Brian without turning aside-for Smythe Castle was out of my way. I wished to bring him his Majesty"s personal congratulations on winning the Earl of Somerset"s Christmas tourney. His Majesty was held in thrall by the description of that tourney by Richard de Bisby, Bishop of Bath and Wells. But Sir Brian was gone, unfortunately, to the Holy Land.

Lady Geronde de Chaney, however, gave me shelter for the night. While I"m here, though, I must say how I, myself, was impressed by the way the Earl"s troll, under your handling, of course, handled those five good knights of ours. He is indeed an unusual troll, both in size and, I a.s.sume, in att.i.tude."

"Yes, you could say that about him," said Jim. "I didn"t see you in the stands, though. I looked for you by the Earl-"

He broke off, feeling an impulse to bite his tongue, though the words were already out. By his status, if not his official rank, Sir John should have been seated very close to the Earl, but he had not been.

"Oh that," said Sir John lightly. "I was sitting with an old friend, a fellow campaigner, on one of the lower tier of benches there. But I missed nothing-"

He turned to Angie.

"-And I was most impressed by the diversion you arranged for us on the last night of Christmas, m"lady."

"Well, thank you," said Angie. "But I enjoyed putting it on, as much probably as anybody watching it."

They pa.s.sed through the door into the relative warmth of the hall, still chatting. Sir John, Jim noticed, did not seem in any hurry to get to what he had come to see them about. Bad news, perhaps. The most probable thing was that there had been some hitch in the wardship proceedings for Robert Falon, and Sir John was planning to break this to them gently- possibly over dinner.

But Jim was wrong. After they had been sitting and making light conversation for a while at the high table over wine and oreoles-which were something like small, holeless donuts in fantastic shapes, with a certain amount of fruit preserves in them-Sir John"s squire approached the table and stood waiting patiently until he should be noticed. Sir John eventually did.

"Ah," he said. "You found it. In good shape I see. Pa.s.s it up to me, here."

The squire handed him what looked like a square of folded parchment, its edges sewn together so that it would not open up into its normal, larger shape.

"You may go," said Sir John to the squire, and turned to Jim and Angie, the package in his hand. "I suppose I should wait until some high point of our meeting to give you this," he said. "But I know you are anxious to learn what is in it. Therefore..."

He pa.s.sed the package to Jim, sitting next to him; and Jim overcame his own overwhelming desire to hand it on to Angie, to whom it mattered most-if it was what he thought it was. But the manners of the period were that it should pa.s.s from Sir John to him, since he would be the responsible recipient.

Jim took out his belt knife, cut the st.i.tching that held the parchment closed; and, sure enough, it opened up into a single sheet with a heavy seal, pressed on to a strip of smaller parchment fed through two slits at the bottom of the letter, so that it hung down from the page almost the way a pendant would hang down on a human neck.

He looked at the writing on the parchment sheet.

It was in fairly readable medieval "Latin"-done by a clerkly hand with the style particular to the time and originator, with various ornate flourishes, including the fairly common so-called "clubbed ascenders"- the vertical strokes of certain letters being pushed upward and thickened, so it looked like those words were carrying spears.

He read the written words with some little difficulty, but with reasonable ease- Edwardus Dei gracia Rex Anglie et Francie et dominus Hibernie omnibus ad quos presentes litere pervenerint saluten...

Even as he watched the Latin suddenly blurred before his eyes and turned into English. It was that same overall magic that he had long since decided had been doing a constant job of translating not merely different languages, such as French, but innumerable different dialects, and the speech of wolves, Sea Devils and the like, to a sort of common, modern English, understandable to both his and Angie"s ear.

In English it began: "Edward by the grace of G.o.d King of England and France and Lord of Ireland to all to whom these present matters are concerned, greeting."

In the matter of Robert Falon, son of Ralph Falon, Baron of Chene, now deceased, concerning the wardship of said Robert Falon until he shall be of age...

Jim"s eyes slid rapidly down the page. It was what he and Angie had been hoping. The wardship had been a.s.signed to him; and at the very bottom was the royal seal that he had noticed the minute the letter was opened. Without a word, he pa.s.sed it to Angie. Angie"s eyes filled with tears.

"We must celebrate," said Jim. He turned to Sir John. "I don"t know how to thank you, Sir John. We weren"t expecting an answer on this for months; in fact, I had understood it might even be years before something like this was decided on."

"It can sometimes well be," said Sir John. "However, those close about the King decided that it would be best if his Majesty saw to the safe-keeping of young Robert Falon with dispatch, his royal command pa.s.sing over ordinary procedure. You have the good Bishop of Bath and Wells, Richard de Bisby, to thank in part. He made a visit to court and his arguments for you to be appointed had a powerful effect on his Majesty, who may G.o.d bless."

"Amen," said Jim and Angie dutifully.

Jim cleared his throat, embarra.s.sed; for Sir John had uttered the last words with a perfectly straight face.

Jim could imagine the Bishop"s powerful voice and determined att.i.tude having its effect on a king who only wanted to be left free of state responsibilities.

"You won"t mind a little celebration, considering you"ve got to ride again tomorrow?" he asked Sir John.

"Certes, in this instance, absolutely not," said Sir John.

So they celebrated, medieval style, with the best of wine and the best of food; and by whatever occult means it was done, the word spread through the castle to all the servants. The result was all of them also went around beaming; quite as if the wardship had been given not merely to Jim but to all of those at Malencontri, collectively.

Their general happiness, and Jim and Angie"s as well, lasted until the next morning, when they waved Sir John Chandos and his troop of men-at-arms off on his further journeys.

But then it began to fade as they walked slowly together back into the castle and climbed the stairs to their solar. They had both fallen silent, and it lasted even in the solar for a little while, until Angie, looking not at him but out one of the solar"s windows, spoke.

"Well," she said in a low voice, "you"re free to go now."

"Go?" said Jim, with complete understanding and acute discomfort.

"You know what I mean," said Angie. She turned around to face him. "To that place-Palmyra-that Brian"s going to. I mean, that he"s probably gone to already by this time. You"re free to follow him, now."

"No, I"m not," said Jim reflexively.

Angie looked away from him again. It was almost as if she had not heard what he had said.

"You know," she went on in the same low voice, "I started thinking, some time back, how I"d feel if I was Geronde and you were going to try to find my father; and how I"d feel about you not having Brian with you."

"It"s not the same situation," said Jim. "With Robert Falon belonging to us now, we"re a family.

Besides"-he tried to prod a smile from her- "I"m wounded, deeply wounded, by the thought you don"t trust me out alone without Brian to protect me."

"It"s not funny," said Angie, looking squarely at him. "I worry a lot less when Brian"s with you and you"re off on one of these things-a lot more than I would if he wasn"t there."

"Anyway," said Jim, "we"ve already told Brian I wouldn"t go. He"s undoubtedly left some weeks ago; and there"s nothing to be done about it now."

"Isn"t there?" said Angie.

"Well," said Jim, feeling uncomfortable, "barring the possibility that I could catch up with him. But you still don"t really want me to go, do you?"

"Of course I don"t," said Angie. "But maybe I"m wrong. Maybe you should go."

"That"s something no one can tell for sure."

"Maybe we can," said Angie. "Anyway, I think we ought to go and have a talk with Geronde."

Jim stared at her.

"You"ve already decided to let me go, haven"t you?" he asked.

"Yes," said Angie, almost angrily. "But I want both of us to talk to Geronde first."

"Maybe that"s a good idea," said Jim. "To be truthful, Angie, it"s been gnawing at me a little that I didn"t say yes, in the first place, when Brian asked me to go. But by all means, let"s find out Geronde"s point of view on it. Maybe-well, let"s go talk to her anyway."

He stood up.

"You don"t mean now?" said Angie.

"It"s still early in the day," Jim said.

"It"s a three-hour ride over there in this weather," Angie said, "and if we have any kind of a talk with her, it"ll be too late to ride back. That means we"ve got to stay the night. That means we"ve got to take our bedding along with us. I love Geronde, but I wouldn"t sleep in one of the beds in her castle without my own bedding unless someone forced me to it at the point of a knife. Can"t you just take us over there by magic?"

"Carolinus warned me against using too much of my magic, even though I"ve got an open drawing account," said Jim. "I"ve been meaning to tell you about that. It was the day Brian came-and that drove Carolinus clear out of my head. He warned me to always be as careful to use as little magic as possible-so I"d have enough for any emergency."

"Well, then," said Angie, "isn"t there some way you can turn into a dragon and just carry me over by air?"

"No," said Jim slowly. "A dragon really hasn"t got that much lifting power. An adult human is more than one can fly off with. Remember back in the twentieth century how there were old folk tales of eagles flying off with babies? Well, the truth of the matter is there was no truth to them. A baby weighing much more than ten pounds would be too much for any eagle to carry. For the same reason, an adult human being would be too much for me to carry. I might be able to get you off the ground and sort of flop along with you for a short distance, but then I"d run out of strength; and we"d both come back to earth."

He hesitated.

"I don"t suppose you"d like me to go alone- No," he answered himself as he saw her mouth open.

"You"re right. No," said Angie. "You don"t think you should use the magic just this once?"

"That"s the trouble. I"ve been doing too much of "just this once" up until now. Wait a minute!"

"What?" Angie stared at him.

"It"s simple," said Jim. "I"ll just make you into a dragon, too. That"d take almost no magical energy at all, by comparison."

"Me? Into a dragon? You could do that?" The startled look on Angie"s face changed to one of pleasure.

"Yes. Why not? I"ve never been a dragon. Why didn"t we think of that before?"

"I suppose because we didn"t have to," said Jim. "But you"d better put some outside clothes on for the weather, just in case we have to turn back into humans while we"re still outside." He was already moving toward his own clothes rack to get a travel cloak.

Properly dressed, they mounted to the open top of the tower, and Jim nodded at the man-at-arms currently on duty.

"You can go downstairs for a few minutes and warm up, Thomas," he said.

Gratefully, the guard disappeared down the stairs.

"When are you going to change me into a dragon?" Angie asked.

"Right now," said Jim. "Come along with me."

He led the way over to the platform on which rested the great cauldron-empty now, of course-that could be filled with oil to be heated, lit and poured down on anyone trying to storm the gates to the castle keep.

He stepped up on the platform and gave Angie a hand up. Here, they were level with the top of the battlements, looking out from a flat surface into thin air and down onto the open s.p.a.ce surrounding the castle and the trees beyond.

"Move over from me a little bit to give yourself room," Jim said. "Just a few feet there. There. That"s good enough. Now here we go."

Jim visualized both himself and Angie as dragons, their clothes having vanished, but ready to come back on them immediately they were turned back into humans. It was a far cry from his early days of using magic to change himself into a dragon, in which case he invariably ruined whatever clothes he was wearing, or else had to strip them all off first.

"You make a good-looking dragon," he said to Angie.

"Do I?" said Angie. "Or are you just saying that?"

"No," said Jim. "You are a good-looking female dragon. If I was a full-time male dragon-"

"Well, I"ll believe you for the moment," said Angie. "Now what?"

"Now," said Jim, "all you do is jump off the edge of the platform, into the air, spread your wings and start flying. I"ll be right with you and you just do what I do, flap your wings when I flap mine and stretch them out and soar when I soar."

Angie looked at the edge of the platform and the empty air beyond.

"Jim," she said, after a moment, "I"ve changed my mind. I don"t think I want to be a dragon today, after all."

"Don"t be silly," said Jim.

"I"m scared," said Angie.

"Remember what you said to me when I was in a dragon body? I"d turned up in the Cliffside dragons"

caves and I was alone with you. You suggested I might fly to Carolinus"s for help. I wasn"t too eager, either, to jump out of that cave into thin air. But you said I could try it. You said, "It"ll probably just come to you. I"d think it would, instinctively, once you were in the air." Remember?"

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