“Well, the lad has a point,” Sir Guy allowed, “though it is pleasant to be able to craft a verse when you are done hacking up the enemy.”
‘Must men always be thus?“ Arouetto sighed.
” ’Must,‘ I don’t know,“ Matt said, ”but they always will. It has something to do with testosterone and the survival of the fittest“
Arouetto smiled sadly. “By that measure, I am not the fittest.”
“Apparently not,” Saul said, “since you’ve decided against reproducing. Your father seemed to know what he was doing, though.”
“He was a poet and scholar,” Arouetto said slowly, “but even he was exasperated at my mildness. Perhaps I chose more rightly than I knew, when I chose the celibate life.”
“And perhaps the evolution you’ll contribute to is cultural instead of physical,” Matt said, annoyed. “You never know-you may have more intellectual descendants than I will have biological. For example, I’d love to hear you tell your basic ideas to Pascal, this young friend of mine, and see what they do to him.”
“Pray Heaven they will not turn him from knighthood!” Sir Guy cried. “I don’t know-the kid is only the son of a squire, and he’s that just because his grandfather was a wizard.” Matt turned to Saul. “I really would like to check on him. I don’t suppose your telecommunication amulet works without a mate at the other end?”
Saul shook his head. “Sorry. You’ll have to settle for a crystal ball.”
Matt sighed. “I don’t happen to have one. Scholar Arroueto you wouldn’t happen to have a bottle of ink on you, would you?”
“No,” the scholar said slowly, “but I have managed with powdered charcoal whenI’ve had to.”
Matt stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Right. Why didn’t I realize? Excuse me, folks-I have to go pick up sticks.”
It only took a few charred sticks, scraped into a puddle of water in a depression on top of a boulder, to darken the fluid enough so that it was almost a mirror, but one that seemed to have some depth. Arouetto looked on with interest-he had rarely had the chance to watch wizards at work-and Sir Guy looked on with distrust. Stegoman took a nap.
“Okay,” Saul said, “we’re all ready. Now, how do you turn it on?”
“Add a verse, of course.”
“Is it by nature adverse, then?” Arouetto asked, concerned.
“Some of the sociologists think so.” Matt stared into the ink pool and intoned,
“I wouldn’t tell anybody, not that,” Saul muttered under his breath, but he was watching the pool, too. The darkness seemed to lighten, did lighten, glowing from the center outward-and Matt saw a group of young men and women sitting around a table with a pitcher of wine in the middle. They were talking earnestly, which was amazing, considering that they were all wearing peasant working smocks, with the dust of field-work on them. Now and then someone threw back his head in silent laughter. One of them was Pascal. Flaminia sat beside him, and the two of them were doing most of the occasional laughing, and a lot of wide-eyed listening. Now and then one of them ventured a remark, and the others took it up earnestly. “Your young friend seems to have landed on his feet,” Saul commented. “He certainly seems to like it well enough,” Matt admitted. “At least I don’t have to worry about yanking him out of trouble.” He looked up at Arouetto. “But I would like to have him talk to you.”
“Can we not go where he is?” the scholar demanded. Matt scowled down at the pool. “I hate to use that much magic at one time. We have to remember that the king is still on the watch for us, with possibly not the nicest of intentions. Let’s not make it too easy for him to zero in on us.”
“Perhaps magic is not necessary.” Arouetto pointed at the ink pool. “Can you not show us more of their surroundings? There might be some famous landmark among them.”
‘Well, I can try,“ Matt said dubiously, but he muttered a few words, something having to do with zooming out, and the figures grew smaller and smaller in the center, until they could see a hill high behind them, with a castle of reddish rock on its top, a castle with tall, spidery towers that surely could not have been held up just by piling one stone block on another-and a central keep surrounded by scaffolding, where some of the upper arrow slots had been widened to real windows, where glass winked in the late aflernoon sun.
”It is the king’s castle!“ Arouetto’s eyes glowed with success. ”The king’s castle, and we regard its western face, but from somewhat south! See how he is remaking its keep into a light-filled gracious palace!“ He looked up at Matt. ”You did not send your young friends very far outside Venarra, did you, Lord Wizard?“
Matt swallowed thickly and said, “No, I guess I didn’t. Arouetto. I’ll admit there wasn’t much time, but I guess I could have been a bit more specific than that.”
“Lucky the king doesn’t seem to think they’re very important.” Saul looked up at Matt. “Okay, now we know where they are-but how do we get there?”
Matt turned to Stegoman. After a minute the dragon opened one eye. “I could swear I can feel the pressure of thy thoughts, Wizard.”
“You may be a psychic saurian,” Matt answered. “Say, Stegoman, how do you feel about night flights?”
“How far is Venarra from Reme?” Matt called against the wind. “Only fifty miles, as the dragon flies!” Sir Guy called back. “Then we are nearly there,” the huge voice rumbled towards them. “Hold tightly to one another, small folk, and Sir Guy, hold tightly to my neck! Where is this grove, scholar?”
“West by southwest of the castle!” Matt called. “Right Seigneur Arouetto?”
“Even so!” the scholar called back. “How close to it?” Stegoman demanded. “Perhaps half a mile-certainly outside the city wall!”
“Just land behind a grove big enough to give you cover,” Matt advised.
“Then I shall!” Stegoman banked to the right, curving around and spiraling down.
Matt risked a quick glance back at Saul; he was grinning with delight, the wind whipping his long hair behind him. Between them, Arouetto was pale and tight-lipped, but game, not complaining. Matt turned back to watch the rest of Stegoman’s approach. He didn’t know how the dragon was managing to find his way without even moonlight, but he wasn’t about to ask. There was a jolt as Stegoman’s feet touched the ground, but Matt had felt worse jolts in a jet. The dragon ran a little way, which was worse than the jouncing of the thermals, but he cupped his wings to help slow himself down, and in a few minutes was sagging to the ground. “Off, I prithee! Thou art a heavy load!”
“I regret that I had to wear armor, good beast, but I could not risk being without it,” Sir Guy said, hopping off. Matt leaped down in time to catch Arouetto, and Saul slid off the dragon’s back grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Anytime you want to go for a spin, Stegoman, just let me know!”
“I will be delighted,” the dragon huffed, “if there is only the one, or at most the two, of you.”
“Sorry you had to carry so many.” Matt came around to the dragon’s front, resting a hand on his friend’s head.
“Needs must,” the dragon replied. “Let me rest, Matthew, while you seek this friend of yours.”
“Well, I don’t really expect them to be up this late.” Matt turned to his companions. “Would you stay and keep Stegoman company, Sir Guy? The rest of us need to scout the territory, so we’ll know where we’re going come daybreak.”