They ran to gather weapons, but they were safe for the moment, for all the little dragons were concentrating their attack on the renegade—Dimetrolas.
Balkis cried, spreading her hands up toward the flock.
“Anthony, a rhyme!” she shouted. Obligingly, he answered,
“Well sung!” Balkis said with a sigh of relief. “Give me now a second verse.”
“Second… ?” Anthony spread his hands, at a loss how to begin.
“A last verse! Give me a last verse!”
“Ah!” Anthony cried, and chanted,
Then he spread his hands again, brow furrowed.
Balkis leaped into the breach.
“Of wisest course and soundest plan,” Anthony cried triumphantly.
Balkis almost collapsed, limp from tension.
“Attack from the left!” one dragon cried.
“Fool! Attack from the right!” another shouted.
“Idiot! They have heard you and will expect us now!”
“Attack from all directions at once!” another commanded. “Some may die in the glory of flames, but others will come behind, no matter which way they face!”
“Lead, then, and die yourself!” cried a fourth. “All attack from the back! Now!”
In minutes they were quarreling among themselves so viciously that the real quarry was forgotten. A few dragons remembered and dove toward Dimetrolas and Stegoman, but a single blast of flame was enough to make them sheer off. Finally there was a space of a few minutes, during which Stegoman and Dimetrolas put their heads together; then Dimetrolas flew east and Stegoman west, both turning to descend with flame on half a dozen dragons on the fringe of the tribal argument. The half dozen shrieked at the first touch of flame and went zigzagging across the sky, but Stegoman rose above them and in front, flying faster than they, then turning to roar fire. The smaller dragons turned, shrieking, and dove to escape Dimetrolas' flame. The two larger dragons drove them down to the ledge, where they shot into their stone cotes for safety. Then the two behemoths soared back to chip another half dozen off the mass and drive them similarly down to their cotes. Again and again they soared and stooped, working in perfect unison to harry the outliers down. Finally, the dozen remaining realized the mass had shrunk tremendously and turned to fight, but at one blast fled shrieking for cover.
Then Stegoman strafed the ledge, roaring flame at the dragoneers. The few who had not already fled for safety did so now, running back into their granite-block houses. The great dragon dipped low over the ledge as he passed Anthony and Balkis, and his rider sprang off, running a few steps to shed momentum, then stopped, grinning and spreading his arms.
Balkis gave a joyful cry and ran into his embrace. “Oh, my teacher, I have so longed to see a face from home!”
“Your real home, yes, I know,” Matt said, then stepped back to look at her companion. “And who is this strapping young man to whom I'm sure I owe your safety?”
Balkis turned with delight that faded as she saw the look of resentment on Anthony's face.
Matt muttered, “Don't worry, he's just jealous!”
Joy sprang in Balkis' heart, and she ran to her love. “Oh, Anthony, it is Matthew Mantrell, my teacher, of whom I've told you! Come, you must meet him, for he and his family have been such good friends to me!”
Anthony's face cleared at the word “family.” He came forward and bowed to Matthew. “An honor to meet you, my lord.”
Matt bent an accusing glance at Balkis. “You weren't supposed to tell him I'm a lord.”
Balkis laughed, a sound of sheer delight. “Lord Matthew, this is my love Anthony, my own true love to me!” She demonstrated by stepping into the circle of his arm and pressing her head against his shoulder.
Matt smiled, trying to ignore a feeling of indignation that the girl who'd had such a huge crush on him a year before should now be so thoroughly besotted with a callow youth—but he didn't try to quell the feeling of relief that overrode all. He bowed to Anthony in his turn. “Well met, Master Anthony.”
“Oh, no master!” Anthony protested. “I am only a farmer's son, and quite innocent of any knowledge save tilling the soil and tending livestock!”
“Oh, aye, and now with knowledge of every land between here and your southern mountains,” Balkis chided, “and a skill at verse that leaves me far behind!”
“No, it is I who am the one behind,” Anthony said, grinning down at her, “for I have only the skill of ending a verse, whereas you can begin them with ease that astounds me.”
“Sounds like a good match.” Matt tried to hide a smile of amusement. But he saw how the two gazed into one another's eyes and realized how truly Balkis had spoken when she called him her own true love.
Then Balkis broke away to give Matt as stern a look as she could manage. “Why did you not send those dragons fleeing with your magic, my lord?”
“Oh, I did my share,” Matt told them. “When Dimetrolas and Stegoman started herding the beasts home, I chanted a spell about discretion being the better part of valor, and none of them even thought of fighting back.”
Balkis laughed with delight, still clinging to Anthony's hand. “I should have known! But had you realized that these dragon-riders had tamed their beasts with magic, not friendship?”
Matt stiffened. “No, I hadn't. How'd you find out?”
“I have heard enough of their barbaric accent to understand their words,” Balkis explained.
“So you cast a spell that gave the dragons their freedom.” Matt nodded. “Very smart—but how do we keep the dragons from killing off their erstwhile captors?”
“Should we?” Balkis' eyes glittered.
“Balkis!” Anthony protested, shocked. “I own what they have done is horrible, but I would not wish to see a bloodbath!”
Matt nodded approval. “I think we can take our time working out a solution—neither the people nor the dragons seem terribly eager to come out while Stegoman and Dimetrolas are on patrol.”
“Dimetrolas, yes, that was the name the dragons called out.” Balkis turned a curious gaze on the female dragon crouched next to Stegoman in the center of the village, the two resembling hawks waiting to pounce on the first rabbit careless enough to poke its head out of its burrow. In fact, whenever a dragon dared to poke its head out of one of the circular doorways of a cote, Stegoman sent it ducking for cover with a blast of flame. If a human face peered out a window, Dimetrolas sent it back with a torch. Neither of them was within fifty feet of the buildings, but the point was taken.
Balkis smiled at their cooperation. “Is Stegoman courting, then?”
“I'm impressed,” Matt said. “How'd you know it was a she?”
“By her slenderness and grace,” Balkis answered, “but chiefly by the dragons calling her a she. Where is her origin?”
“Here, it would seem,” Matt said, “though she didn't tell us—we met her guarding a mountain pass alone, no doubt waiting for fat sheep to wander by. How she got there is no doubt a long story.”
“But one she has not confided to you?”
“Right. One look at Stegoman, though, and she wouldn't leave him alone—and now we know why.”
“That she found him handsome?”
Matt nodded. “Handsome, and the first male of her species she'd ever seen who was anywhere near her own size. Speaking of long stories, though, how did you get here?”