“Why, how is this?” Arouetto looked back and forth from one to the other with concern. “I do not mean offense!”
“Of course not,” Saul said. “You just see the obvious that goes right past the two of us, ‘cause we’re busy looking for something complicated. Okay, Scholar Arouetto-think up a self-portrait with the inscription, and we two will get busy concentrating on a mental picture of Brother Thomas’ face.”
“Will that accomplish anything?” Arouetto asked doubtfully. “Who knows? It’s sure worth a try!”
“It is that.” Arouetto shrugged. “Very well, then, here is my portrait.” His brow furrowed with concentration, and a miniature appeared in a filigreed frame. It was a bit uglier than the real thing, but none the less recognizable. Underneath it was a small metal scroll engraved with the words, Think of me. “Got it” Saul closed his eyes and grabbed Matt’s hand. Matt squeezed back, closing his eyes and picturing Brother Thomas’ face, then expanding the view to show him wearing a monk’s robe and holding out a hand with the miniature in it. “Right hand.”
“Right,” Saul acknowledged. Matt groped with his left hand, felt Arouetto catch it. “I have your hand, Lord Wizard!” the scholar said. “Hold tight,” Matt said between his teeth. “If anything happens, it’ll happen fast.”
Suddenly, he felt it, the way you feel someone’s gaze on the back of your neck, only stronger, much stronger. It felt as if he had stepped out of the shade into a ray of noontime sun in summertime Nevada. From a distance he heard Saul say, “Got him! Now, Matt-‘I’m Going Away,’ past tense!”
Matt sang with him, not quite on the same pitch:
The fabric of the universe seemed to wrench and tear about them. Reality rocked, and Matt clamped tight with both hands as his inner ear went crazy, registering a tilting and seesawing from side to side and back and forth. Dimly, he heard Arouetto cry out with alarm, and Saul cry out with elation. Himself, he just bit his lip and hoped for the best. Then the world seemed to stabilize, a little at a time, until Matt finally realized that the rocking was going on in his stomach, not in the world around him. With trepidation, he opened his eyes… And found himself in a small but spacious room with sunlight pouring in through open windows, the smell of flowers in the air, plain cream-colored plaster walls with the dark supporting beams showing, and a monk on a high stool, sitting at a higher desk, looking up at them in delight. Matt recognized Brother Thomas, not quite as noble-looking as Arouetto’s picture of him-and in the monk’s right hand was the miniature of Arouetto. “Friend Arouetto!” Brother Thomas cried in a surprisingly deep voice. “What a joy to see you! It has been so long! But who are these wizardly companions of yours?”
Matt was just about to answer when the world darkened and he felt the room spinning again.
Chapter 22
All things considered, Matt was very relieved to see the same room around him when he came to. He’d had a bad moment when he thought Rebozo had magically pulled him away. He said as much, but Brother Thomas assured him, “No evil sorcery can touch you here. There is too much holiness about us, too many prayers filling the air.” Then he frowned. “Of course, if you wished the powers of Evil to touch you, if even some part of you that you did not wish to acknowledge longed for that touch, you would breach our defenses.”
“I don’t think even my subconscious wants that,” Matt said thickly. “It’s seen a little too much of the results.”
“Here, drink.” The monk held a goblet near Matt’s lips. “Gently, for ‘tis brandy-but a sip or two will bring the color back to your cheeks.”
Matt took a guarded sip, and heat exploded on his tongue, down his esophagus, and into his stomach. He exhaled, expecting to see fire, and found himself sitting upright. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “That’ll straighten out a snake.” He swallowed and said, “Nice brew.”
“But perhaps a bit of water after it?” Brother Thomas smiled and held out another goblet. Matt took it, and the monk turned away to press the brandy on Saul, then Arouetto-both of whom, Matt was relieved to see, were looking pretty green around the gills themselves. The brandy straightened them up, of course, and Brother Thomas was right-it did bring the color back to their cheeks, though they needed the chaser, too. “Didn’t know you folks had brandy here,” Saul said. “We have a most talented monk in charge of our stillery,” Brother Thomas explained. “New invention, then.” Saul nodded. “I’m sure it will catch on.”
“Well, you seem to be somewhat restored.” Brother Thomas beamed around at his collection of hulks beached on hardwood benches. “It is so good of you to visit a poor friar in his solitude! But tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit-especially when it is made in so unorthodox a manner?”
He was polite, but he was very curious-and very good at hearing them out, then asking questions that drew every last ounce of information from them. Finally he leaned back on his stool, resting against the desk, nodding in satisfaction that he had the whole story. “So! You have the audacity to set yourselves against the wickedness permitted by King Boncorro-or to seek to help him banish the wickedness that remains from the reign of King Maledicto, if you can first determine which is the case.”
“I vote for leftovers,” Matt said. “I’ve met Chancellor Rebozo.”
“He has an unsavory reputation, yes,” Brother Thomas agreed, “though most seem to think it is only because he toadies to the king and does whatever his Majesty commands, whether it be good or ill.”
“He prefers ill,” Matt averred, and Arouetto agreed. “Dismiss whatever reputation you have heard of his kindliness, Brother Thomas. He is a mean and cruel man, enjoying others’ misery.”
“You speak from your own experience?” Brother Thomas asked with interest.
“Yes,” Matt and Arouetto said together.
The monk steepled his fingers together. “And what do you propose to do about it?”
Arouetto and Saul exchanged a blank look, but Matt said slowly, “The king is trying very hard to be a materialist and believe in nothing but the things he can see and taste and touch. The result is that he has made a very good beginning on transforming Latruria into a secular society.”
Brother Thomas frowned. “But we have always had to contend with the secular aspects of life. The word only means ‘worldly,’ after all.”
“Yes-but most people have looked beyond this world, to the next. King Boncorro is trying to convince himself, and his people, that this world is all there is.”
Brother Thomas pursed his lips and whistled, gazing off into space. “Yes,” Matt said. ‘Taking it to a bit of an extreme, isn’t he?“
“He is most surely! There is nothing wrong with seeking to cope with the trials and burdens of this world, mind you, nor to seek worldly pleasures, so long as you hurt no one else thereby-”
“You sure you’re not a heretic?” Saul demanded. “Quite sure.” Brother Thomas grinned. “But the pope and his cardinals are not. Still, it is me you are asking, and it is I who shall answer. Christ told us to render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s, after all, which I interpret as meaning that we must pay some attention to worldly matters.”
“Some.” Matt held up a palm. “Not all.”
“Not all, by any means. The Way of the World is cruel, with the stronger feeding upon the weaker, even grinding the weaker into the dust. We speak of slavery; we speak of toadying to those of higher rank and bullying those of lower; we speak of seeking to squeeze every last ounce of pleasure out of this life, with no concern for who may be hurt in the process. No, the secular life, with no spiritual values to balance it, will surely lead to evil. And this is the course on which King Boncorro has set every soul in his kingdom!”