“I might as well ask what manner of woman axe you, who can appear and disappear in the midst of a fight!” the bird said with an acid tone.
“One who is adept at hiding,” Balkis answered, wondering how much of the fight the bird had seen. “I am a woman who is as much a cat as a lass.”
“Alas indeed!” the bird lamented. “Well, I have known many women who made better cats than lassies.”
“Knowledge for knowledge,” Balkis reminded. “A name for a name.”
“I would not say that you had really given me your name,” the bird retorted.
“Know, then, that I am Balkis, and tell me a word for what you are!”
“There is indeed a word for what I am, one that your kind have called me many times, but I would hesitate to speak it into such young and tender ears. Naetheless, the one that fits best is ‘sidicus.’ Think not to use it for power over me, though, for it is not my name, but a term for my kind; I am a sidicus bird.”
“A ridiculous bird would be more apt,” Balkis said tartly. “Well, I shall do as you suggest and hope I shall not regret it.”
“Be it on his head, then,” the sidicus told her, “and on your heart.”
“It shall be on your neck, if harm comes to him.” Balkis wondered from where this bad temper had come, then remembered how cats felt about birds. Certainly she would be irritated by a lunch that talked back! “Guard him well, sidicus bird, for if he dies before I return, I shall dine upon roast fowl!”
“Then your dining should be foul indeed.” But the bird sounded nervous.
They were past the valley and crossing a barren plain when Matt saw the three men walking northward below them. “More local lore available,” he told Stegoman.
The dragon sighed, circled down, and landed behind an outcrop of rock. Matt hiked around it to the road and arrived just as the three men came up.
They were hulking young hill men, dressed in dun-colored tunics and bias-hosen, looking sullen and arguing as they came closer.
“Hail, friends!” Matt held up a palm.
They looked up, startled, and Matt realized they had been so busy arguing that they hadn't seen Stegoman come in for a landing. “Hail, stranger,” one of them said, but he didn't raise his hand and looked about as friendly as a bulldog on guard. The other two rested their hands on the clubs in their belts.
Matt turned so his sword was showing and rested his hand on its hilt. “I'm a traveler from the north, seeking a friend who has gone before me. Can you tell me if you've seen any strangers here?”
“Not a soul on this road,” the dark-haired one said. “We're on a search like that ourselves. Have you seen our little brother?”
“Littlest,” said another. “Moti stayed at home.”
“Be still, Philip,” the dark-haired one snapped. “He's almost as tall as I am, stranger, and has yellow hair and a stupid look about him. Have you seen him?”
With a description like that from his own brother, Matt understood why the youngest had hit the road. He shook his head. “Haven't seen anyone like that. Some traders, some very odd travelers, but none young and strapping.”
“He left a perfectly good home, left us short of hands for the spring plowing,” the middle brother growled, “and all over a silly cat! We waited two weeks for him to come crawling home, but devil a sight of him we've had!”
“All over a cat?” Mart's pulse picked up, but he frowned as though puzzled. “He argued that much about a cat?”
“Aye, a plain little yellow cat! Had found it and kept it a secret, if you can imagine that, smuggling it table scraps and letting it drink of the cows' milk! All we wanted to do was play with it, but he turned into a demon and fought us tooth and claw!”
“Never did a thing like that before,” Philip grumbled.
Matt could understand that—one look at these three surly louts and he had no doubt what sort of games they had wanted to play with the cat. “How long have you been on the road?”
“More than two months now,” said the dark-haired one in disgust. “We went as far as a valley where all the people had to live in castles for fear of giant ants that roamed their land, looking for people to eat. I don't doubt for a minute that Anthony blundered in there and turned into ant-bait in minutes.”
“At least it was quick,” said Kemal.
None of them seemed to be terribly upset by it. Either they were calloused to the point of being incredible, or they didn't really believe their brother had met a mishap.
“So we're on our way back to our clean, cool mountains,” Philip said, “to tell our dad that Anthony must be dead. He'll mourn, I suppose, but he'll get over it.”
Matt began to wonder just how unloved Balkis' escort had been. He suspected Papa would be far more upset than the boys thought, but they clearly wouldn't mind at all if the youngest never came back. “Well, good luck in your search,” he said. “Myself, I'm looking for a young girl, about shoulder high, very pretty, dark brown hair, large dark eyes, golden skin. Haven't seen her?”
All three developed hot eyes before he was halfway done with the description. The dark-haired one said, “No we haven't, but be easy in your heart, stranger—if we find her, we'll take very good care of her.”
Somehow Matt found room for doubt.
As he came back to Stegoman, the dragon said, “You seem to have found some news of her at last.”
“I think I have,” Matt said, “though these three farmers never saw her as a human being, that's for sure.”
“She was only in cat form? But how would they know her from their barn's mouser?”
“They wouldn't, of course, but she seems to have persuaded an abused younger brother into going along with her—escaping, I should say.”
“Unpleasant men, eh?”
“Very,” Matt confirmed. He climbed up onto Stegoman's back, squinted south, and said, “We saw mountains on the southern horizon, didn't we?”
“We did indeed,” said the reptile who found eagles shortsighted.
“Well, those boys are going home to mountains—and they turned back at the valley of the giant ants—and if we assume their brother and his little yellow cat traveled that road before them and kept going—” He traced an imaginary line from south to north. “—they should be well on the road to Maracanda.”
“Then we have flown over them at some point in our quest.”
“They wouldn't have been hard to miss, if they were traveling by night,” Matt said, “and if Balkis is doing the smart thing and traveling as a cat.” He frowned. “If, that is, they survived the ant valley.”
“I take it, then, that we must now turn northward to search again.”
“Yeah, if at first you don't find what you're looking for,” Matt sighed, “you keep on seeking.”
“Is that a rule of life, Matthew?”
Matt shrugged. “What can I tell you? It worked for me. Let's fly.”
Balkis went over to the unicorn, who was still huffing and puffing, its feet set, trying with all its might to pull its horn from the tree. Balkis wrapped both hands around it and tugged with all her might. She was still marveling over the fact that she was actually touching a unicorn's horn when the tip came free, the unicorn jolted back onto its haunches, and Balkis went rolling head over heels. She picked herself up and turned, wary of the trapped beast she had just helped—but the unicorn rose with dignity and grace and came to nuzzle her hand.
Balkis smiled, thrilling at the touch of its soft, velvety nose. “Do you thank me, then? But I rejoice that I could aid, for beauty such as yours should not be hidden—especially in a lion's stomach.”