“I know,” Matt assured her. “You’re the monarch, and the army probably wouldn’t follow anyone else.
Certainly they wouldn’t be as strong without you.”
“I have sent word to Allustria and Latruria to help. Surely Frisson will send troops, and even King Boncorro may, though I cannot be sure.” Then the queen weakened, and the woman shone through, tears glinting from her eyes. “But O my love, take care! If I should lose you, I do not know what I would do!”
She lifted her arms, and he came around the table to lift her into his.
It was several hours later that he slipped out of her pavilion. The sentries spun, halberds raised, but Matt raised a palm in greeting, and they relaxed. As he stepped away into the night, he hoped they would be as alert to people trying to get into the tent as they were to people trying to get out.
The moon rode high, its dim light most of what there was; the campfires had burned to embers and been banked, the ground was clear, the soldiers asleep in their tents. Matt stopped by a provisions wagon to take a pack and fill it… but a hand came out of the darkness holding one already stuffed.
Matt froze, every nerve on edge, hand on his sword. Then he saw the grin beneath the mustache, and relaxed. “Papa! You nearly scared five years off me!”
“I could wish you no greater delight than eternal youth,” Papa returned. “Did you think you could creep from this camp without me?”
“So how did you know?” Matt said, chagrined.
“Because you did the same thing when you were fifteen… sneaked out of the house when you should have been doing your homework.”
Matt remembered. “Yeah. I forced myself to go to the carnival when nobody else would be there, because I was afraid of riding the Round-Up and determined to prove I wasn’t a total coward.”
“So you told me, afterward.” Papa nodded. “Besides, I have seen some tension between your sweet wife and yourself, and knew you would do what you thought you must to defend her.”
“Well, as it turns out, she put on her crown instead of her wife-hat, and ordered me to go.” Matt decided he had to set the record straight. “But I don’t doubt my courage anymore, Papa. I’ve been knighted, and the ceremony’s magical.”
“Literally, I am sure… though even in our world, ceremonies have metaphorical magic, and that is what they are for. I lived through three months of torture at Parris Island and wondered why, but it ended with the Trooping of the Colors, and I knew I was a Marine. Even more, I knew I was a man.” Papa clapped him on the shoulder, then held up the pack for him to slip into. “Just as you know you are a man, for you have been knighted. Come, let us be off.”
“We always have been,” Matt muttered, but he slipped his arms through the straps, then followed his father through the tents, sneaked past the pickets, and went off into the night.
They had gone about five hundred yards down what passed for a road when a huge dark shape rose up before them to block the way. Red jewels glowed for eyes, and the top of the shape was serrated.
“Beware!” Papa fell into a crouch, a spear appearing in his hand.
“Who is this uncouth fellow, Lord Matthew?” a deep voice rumbled. “Why does he seek to prick me with that pin?”
“He’s just trying to protect his hatchling… me,” Matt said quickly.
The glowing eyes stared. “Him? Yes, now I see some resemblance. Your paternal progenitor, truly?”
“Very truly. Stegoman, meet my father, Ramon Mantrell. Papa, my friend Stegoman. He’s a dragon.”
“I never would have guessed.” Papa bowed to Stegoman. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“And I am pleased to meet you,” the dragon replied. “Your son does you credit, Master Mantrell. He is a true nobleman. You have reared him well.”
“Why, thank you,” Papa said, pleased, “though the credit is at least as much his mother’s as mine. You have known my son long, then?”
“Some years… since his first day in Merovence, in fact. He has mended my wings, and I have carried him on my shoulders.” The dragon swiveled his head toward Matt. “As I mean to do again. How discourteous of you, Matthew, to go adventuring without informing me!”
“Thought I could sneak off without you,” Matt said, smiling. “How’d you know?”
“The Witch Doctor called to me by magic, of course, as soon as you had left the castle! Surely you will not insist on walking when you have such a distance to traverse, and so much of it through hostile territory!”
“Of course I’d rather ride,” Matt said, amused. “Are you offering?”
“Certainly… at the price of being included in your exploits.”
“Just remember, you might be the one who does the paying. Not much chance of keeping you out, if we’re riding on you.” Matt turned to his father. “What do you say, Papa? You always did like flying.”
Matt glanced back to see his father hanging on to the huge dorsal plates, thin-lipped and pale-faced. Matt smiled. “I know it’s a bit more scary than being inside a jet, Papa, but you get used to it.”
“I’m sure that I shall.” Papa’s voice sounded only a little strained. “I do wish we had seat belts, though.”
“I know the feeling,” Matt agreed, “but even if we did fall, Stegoman would loop back and catch us.
Besides, with these plates to hang on to and break the wind, there isn’t much that could knock us off.”
A huge impact jolted Stegoman, and a voice thundered around them as they all plummeted toward the ground.
Chapter Thirteen
“What mortals dare to challenge the djinn by venturing in the element of air!” the voice bellowed.
“Good question,” Matt called to Stegoman. “Head for the ground!”
The dragon had already begun to pull out of his dive. “Art thou afraid?” he demanded in disbelief.
“Damn straight I’m scared! But more to the point, why fight this spirit in his own element? On the ground, we can call up a few forces he might not know!”
“I might have known ‘twas strategy, not cowardice!” Stegoman exulted, and dove again. The huge voice shouted angrily behind him.
“Still there?” Matt called over his shoulder.
“Of course, as you know well,” his father snapped. “It was a hair-raising experience, though.”
“There are lots of bad moments like this,” Matt said apologetically.
“I always yearned to be a part of the epics I read,” Papa told him. “At last I have my wish!” He sounded more resigned than overjoyed, though.
Stegoman pulled up sharply, and they jarred to a stop on the ground. Papa winced. “More like a fighter plane than a passenger liner.”
“Look out!” Matt scrambled down and ducked under Stegoman. His father stared a second, then followed.
The dragon spread his wings and roared defiance at the huge being who swooped down upon them… roared fire, and the genie’s clothing burst into flame. Away the spirit sprang, with a shriek that echoed off the hillsides.
Matt stared out from under Stegoman’s belly plates. “It can’t be!”
“Why not?” Papa squirmed up beside him, then stared up. His eyes widened. “It is!”
“I didn’t really believe they came in both genders,” Matt said.
“You should have,” Papa reminded him. “You watched that TV show enough when you were little.”
“Yeah, but not even Barbara Eden was built like that!”
The spirit came storming back, smoldering clothing reknitting itself into bolero jacket and gauzy harem pants even as she swooped down on them. Her face was oval, her eyes slanted and furious, her lips full and cherry red, her hair a lustrous black waterfall. “For that, you shall roast in your own flame, dragon!”