"You're the resident expert on Hardishane's reign, huh?"
"And its sequel." Sir Guy nodded. "This tale concerns men more than dragons, Lord Wizard."
"Sequel?" Matt frowned. "All right - I'll bite. What was the end of Hardishane's story?"
"Why, he died." Sir Guy had his usual slight smile, but his eyes glittered. "He died, and Saint Moncaire entombed him in a cavern, hidden from all mortal knowledge; and as his knights, one by one, followed him into death, Saint Moncaire brought them there, also. The Saint himself died last, and none knows where his body went; for they laid it out in the church, to keep vigil over; but the knights who did guard it fell all at once into slumber. When they waked in the morning, the Saint's body was gone. Then the word ran 'mongst all the people, that Moncaire had gone to join Hardishane and his knights in their cave in the mountain."
"Let me guess." Matt held up a palm. "They're not really dead, nor really alive either, just sort of sleeping in a living death: Right?"
Sir Guy nodded. "Thou hast heard the tale?"
"Well, the plot, anyway. And when Merovence is really in trouble, up against an enemy it can't possibly beat, Hardishane and his knights will waken to save it. Right?"
"In a manner," Sir Guy said slowly. "Yet 'tis not Merovence alone; 'tis all of the Northern Lands; and the Emperor will not waken again till they must all succumb to Evil, or be joined again into Empire."
"Oh." Matt's eyebrows lifted. "That drastic, huh? It'll be either chaos or total system, anarchy or Empire? No middle ground?"
"None. We live now in the middle ground, Lord Wizard. Ibile, in the West, and Allustria, in the East, have fallen to sin and the rule of Evil; but Merovence stands in the gap not yet fallen; and I think it shall not fall in our time."
"Who're you? Chamberlain?"
Sir Guy looked up, startled, almost shocked, and Matt wondered what nerve he'd hit. But Sir Guy recovered, shaking his head. "I am what you see, am I not? A companion to your self and the princess, to restore her to the throne. And I think we shall win. The Emperor may sleep a while yet."
Matt let his eyes stray to Alisande, frowning, lips pursed. "What happened after Hardishane died?"
"Oh, his heirs governed wisely and well; and none sought to rebel against them, for the deathless giant, Colmain, stood there to aid Hardishane's line; nor was there ever a doubt as to who was the true Emperor, for Colmain knew it of a certainty and would kneel only to the eldest of Hardishane's line."
Better than a polygraph. "With a setup like that, how could the Empire fall?"
"For want of an heir. The blood grows weak in the deepness of time and, after five hundred years, the last of Hardishane's line fell to death - though there were rumors.. ."
"Of a child who grew up in a provincial knight's household?"
"Aye, an obscure and unknown knight; none could say who. The child was of the female line, descended from Hardishane's daughter, not from his son; but withal, of Hardishane's blood. And there were rumors, too, of a child reared by peasants. He was of the blood royal, and the male line, too, though of a cadet branch. Yet he was never found, and Colmain would obey no man, but roamed through the land, constantly seeking a man or woman of Hardishane's blood."
Matt had a vision of at least forty feet of blood and bone, ploughing through fields and villages like an unprogrammed robot. "Would I be right in guessing that the country wasn't exactly in fine shape?"
"You would. 'Twas anarchy, in sum-every man's hand was turned against his neighbor. The barons ran riot through the land, each seeking to enlarge his own estates. Ibile and Allustria fell to rules of men that had no scruples and precious little good within them."
"And a fair amount of evil?"
"Aye, though - neither was wholly a tool of Hell. But he who sought to conquer Merovence was such a tool. He was a sorcerer, one Dimethtus, who rose in the West. He bound up a corps of lesser sorcerers and one small army; and with these and much fell magic, he defeated baron after baron; and county by county, the land fell to his rule. Then at last Colmain discovered a king..."
"How much time are we talking about?"
"Some fifteen years. The hidden child had grown to a youth on the verge of manhood, and his name was Kaprin. He was of the line of Hardishane's daughter. Colmain came upon him at a castle in the eastern mountains and knew him straight away. He knelt to the boy, and Kaprin knew all at once who he truly was and what was demanded of him. He commanded the giant to destroy the evil sorcerer. Then Colmain rose up and summoned the creatures who live by stone. Gnomes and dwarves obeyed his summons-yes, even trolls; and with this army and King Kaprin; he marched out against Dimethtus. Men of good heart rallied to King Kaprin's standard, and his army grew with every mile it marched. Then to him came another youth, a scholar from the Northern Isles, a doctor of the Arts, one Conor."
"A saint?" Matt inquired.
"Aye, as the fullness of time showed; but then they knew him only for a most powerful wizard."
"Yes," Matt said slowly, "there would have to be a wizard in there, if they were going up against a sorcerer."
Sir Guy nodded. "Heaven preserves the balance, Lord Wizard-always and ever."
A cold breath fanned Matt's spine and neck. "I do hope you're not trying to tell me I'm supposed to be playing Conor to Malingo's Dimethtus."
The amusement deepened briefly in Sir Guy's eyes; but he ignored the interruption. "The greater part of eastern Merovence quickly swore allegiance to King Kaprin; and he, with Conor's backing and Colmain's arm, marched west, to meet Dimethtus. They met with a clash of arms and howls of war; but Conor countered all Dimethtus's spells; and Kaprin, with the giant Colmain, sent the sorcerer's armies into flight. Thus did Dimethtus begin to believe the old maxim, which says that none can stand against a rightful king."
"He began to believe?"
"Oh, aye. None who hold strong opinions can be quickly swayed. He rallied up his forces and turned to battle Kaprin once again, and again, he lost and fled and rallied; he turned to battle and once more lost and fled and rallied. Thus it went, with Kaprin and his armies marching west, fighting for each mile of ground. At last the sorcerer was caught deep in the western mountains. There Dimethtus turned at bay, to wage a last death-or-victory battle 'gainst King Kaprin."
Sir Guy sighed, flinging his head back. "Great was that battle. Countless deeds of valor did King Kaprin and his knights enact. But in the hour of victory, Dimethtus's spell struck home past Conor's ward and changed the giant Colmain into stone. Yet in the doing, Dimethtus neglected to guard 'gainst Conor, and the wizard froze him in a timeless moment, while Kaprin led his armies raging through Dimethtus's host. At sunset, Kaprin held the field, with all his foemen slain or captured. Only then did Conor loose Dimethtus, and the sorcerer looked upon the field, knew his fate, and pleaded for salvation. Upon the word, demons thronged to claim his soul by his blood-contract. But Saint Conor held them all at bay, while a country priest hearkened to the long and foul tally of a sorcerer's sins. When he pronounced the words of absolution, the demons howled in despair and rage, retreating. Then Kaprin and his men could hang Dimethtus."
"You ... don't say." Matt felt a little dazed. "A ... very interesting story, Sir Guy, but ... what's it got to do with us?"
"Why, our princess." Sir Guy's eyes glittered.
"You don't mean she ... ?" Matt swallowed, turning to look at Alisande, then back to Sir Guy. "Well, well! King Kaprin's dynasty lasted a long time, eh?"
"Three hundred years, or nearly. Our princess's father was---"
"Ho-o-o!"
Their heads snapped around toward the princess' voice.
Alisande had reined in, one hand flung up to signal a halt. Then she beckoned to them, eyes still fixed straight ahead.