An instant later the arrows descended in a deadly rain. They rattled through the trees and plunged into the ground. Some of them hit the defenders in full retreat, pitching them from their horses.
Matt raised his shield over his head and heard two distinct impacts. He felt the horse stretch out its stride as they neared the town. Then, only precious seconds from the gate, the drawbridge started up. A sinking feeling filled Matt as he watched the heavy, ironbound edifice ratchet up in small jerks.
Howls of disbelief tore from the throats of the defenders, who suddenly realized they were being abandoned to their fate. Metal rang on metal as the armor pieces beat against each other.
Joan rode in the lead, flanked by Andy.
Then Leif stood up in his stirrups, bending his legs so he could steady himself. He lifted a crossbow to his shoulder, paused, then fired.
The quarrel sped from the weapon and jammed into the chain winching the drawbridge up. Men rushed from the fortification and started trying to free the lodged arrow. Before they could do it, the defenders were upon them. They pulled the drawbridge back down, forcing the archers on the ramparts to defend their retreat.
The Burgundians withered under the concentrated arrow fire, but some of them rode forward. Warriors fought brief battles at the back of the group, then the drawbridge dropped to the ground. Joan of Arc led her troops inside the garrison, turning quickly and taking command of the manual effort to raise the drawbridge.
In seconds the Burgundians were locked outside Compiègne, kept outside arrow range. Matt dismounted his horse and followed Joan, Andy, and Leif up the narrow stone stairs to the ramparts.
“We did it!” Andy crowed. He shook a gauntleted fist at the Burgundians. A few arrows thudded against the stone wall beneath the ramparts where they stood in reply. “I love this game!” Impulsively he reached out to Joan and hugged her tight, then kissed her on the cheek.
“You know,” Joan said, pushing her way out of Andy’s embrace, “the real Joan of Arc would probably have had your head for that little display.”
Andy stood back in shock.
Matt couldn’t help himself; he laughed out loud. Joan’s not a character. She’s another person playing online.
Instead of being mad, though, Joan grinned. Then she said, “Hi, Leif.”
“Hey, Kris,” Leif greeted. “Looks like the game’s really shaping up.”
Joan blew a loose strand of hair from her face. “I think so. Another month or two of development and we should have it all. By that time your dad is going to know he made a good investment for himself and his clients.”
Leif shook his head. “Dad already knew that or he wouldn’t have gotten involved.”
“I couldn’t have done it without him.” Kris looked around and pointed at Andy, who was red-faced with embarrassment. “Do you know him?”
“Yeah. Andy Moore, this is Kris Emerson. She’s the lead designer of Maid of Orleans.”
“You could have told me,” Andy grumbled. He focused on Kris. “Look, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be,” Kris said. “I haven’t been so flattered in years.”
“And this is Matt Hunter,” Leif said.
In years? Matt thought. That meant the Joan of Arc look was a proxy. Around him, the survivors settled down to the business of tending the wounded and getting the defense better organized.
Kris led the way around the ramparts. “So what brings you here? Checking on your father’s investment?”
“No,” Leif responded. “We’re on our way to the gaming convention and thought we’d scope out a few of the demos available online.”
“I’m glad you dropped in,” Kris said. “If you hadn’t, I’d have been spending the next few hours in chains, hoping someone had enough gumption to mount a rescue attempt. Maid of Orleans is based on the historical data of the period, but the story flows in a lot of different branches for the clever player. That was a nice shot with the crossbow, by the way. Not many people are going to figure that one out without being tipped.”
Leif shrugged. “Seemed like the thing to do at the time. When I actually made the shot, I knew I was on to something.”
“The game’s set up that way,” Kris said. “If a player attempts that shot, they’ll make it ninety percent of the time.” She halted and looked out over the battlefield. “So what were you looking for when you dropped in?”
“A dragon,” Leif answered.
Kris shook her head. “You won’t find any dragons here.”
“I thought maybe you’d included one in a total fantasy mode for the game.”
“No. I made the decision to do this game real. Except for the actual flow of events. There’s a lot of gameplay involved there.”
“Do you know anyone whose game has a dragon in it?” Matt asked.
“You haven’t cruised through many demos yet, have you?” Kris asked. “Dragons are big in the games. You can hunt them, fight them, ride them, and — in some games — talk to them or even be them.”
That isn’t very hopeful. Matt considered the online brochure they’d gone through. At least four hundred games were coming out and on display at the convention. Some of them they’d been able to rule out immediately due to familiarity with the gaming product.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” Kris said, “but I’ve got to get back to the game. The people playing this demo are going to expect me to put on a show for a while. If I’d gotten captured, I could have relaxed in a Burgundian prison. Now I’m going to have to dip into my bag of tricks and stir up some more intrigue.”
“Sorry,” Leif said.
“Don’t worry about it. I spent a lot of time imprisoned during the testing phase of the game. This will be stressful, but it’ll be fun.”
“Will you do me a favor?” Leif asked.
“If I can.”
Leif opened his hand and swirling green lights coalesced into a coin. “This icon has my e-mail address. If you hear of any games that are really big on dragons, can you drop me a note?”
“I’d be happy to.” Kris took the coin, then turned and marched away, bellowing orders to her troops while full dark settled over the town, demanding to see Guillaume de Flavy.
Andy fidgeted and paced restlessly. “Let’s blaze. I’m done here.”
Matt grinned at his friend’s discomfort, but his mind stayed busy with how they were going to find the dragon and the dragonrider.
The gaming convention menu appeared ahead of Matt when he opened his eyes. The fatigue from the jaunt through Maid of Orleans quickly left him. Icons representing various games and gaming corporations spun against a backdrop of star-lit space.
Andy and Leif stood on the electric-blue sheet of crystal that oriented up from down. Andy swept the rows of icons with his eager gaze. “As I recall, it’s my turn to choose.”
Staring at all the selections, Matt felt totally lost.
“You look frustrated,” Leif observed.
“I’m getting that way,” Matt admitted. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to sample every game.”
“We’re not sampling every game,” Leif said.
“Right,” Andy added. “Only the cool ones. And I’ve got one here called Goblin King. It promises a fantasy setting and lots of combat action.”
“We need a way of narrowing down the field,” Matt said. “But I’m fresh out of ideas.”
“Until you get one,” Leif pointed out, “I’d rather stay busy. I don’t think sitting and worrying — even in first class — is going to be beneficial.”
Matt let out a long breath. “No. I just wish I knew for sure what Maj and I entered was a game.”
Leif shook his head. “From the way you describe the environment, it couldn’t be anything else.”