“They say he trusts the Lord Chancellor as much as he trusts any man,” the pope said slowly. “But that’s not saying much, is it? Okay, I’ll admit he probably does have his own spies, checking up on the chancellor-but they can’t be everywhere at once.” He rose. “Speaking of spies, I think we’d better take our leave, now-before the king’s agents can track us.”
“Go, and with my blessing.” But the pope frowned. “This King Boncorro may not be a force for Evil, Lord Wizard, but he is also not a force for Good, and he cannot balance between them; simply by failing to do good, he advances the cause of Evil. Can you not help me in overthrowing him? He is the grandson of a usurper, after all.”
“And what alternative can you offer?” Matt said. He wondered why Sir Guy glanced at Arouetto and away, but didn’t mention it. “Getting rid of a neutral king isn’t too smart, if the only available replacement is definitely evil. If you don’t mind, Holy Father, I think it would be better to try to subvert King Boncorro and sway him toward the side of the angels than to try to assassinate him.”
“I had not meant to murder him-only to dethrone him!”
“It doesn’t work that way.” Matt shook his head. “Kick a king off his throne, and he’ll come back with an army-and if you beat him again, he’ll just come back again. Again and again-until you finally kill him anyway. No, your Holiness, we would be much better advised to make the best of Boncorro-or try to make him the best.”
“You have given me your advice,” the pope said slowly, “and I shall now give you mine-for your own best interests, not that of the Church. It is this: leave Latruria.”
“Good of you, I’m sure,” Matt said, “but you know we can’t.”
“We are sworn to a vocation, too, your Holiness,” Sir Guy said gently. “We cannot turn back unless we are beaten.”
The pope sighed. “Well, I have given you my best rede, though I cannot say I regret your ignoring it.”
As they were going out of the papal palace, Matt said to Arouetto, “How come he didn’t include you in the blessing? Or the advice, for that matter.”
“His Holiness does not completely trust me,” Arouetto answered with a small smile. “He has not said it, but I believe he sees me as a threat.”
“But can’t say why, huh?” Saul asked. “If he could, he’d clap you in irons.”
“Or a monk’s cell, I suppose,” Arouetto agreed. “Not that I would mind a life sentence to a library.”
“Yes you would,” Matt said, “if the only art and music around you were religious.”
“There are worse fates,” Arouetto replied. “Still, you are right-I would prefer to remain free, able to contemplate the beauties of Classical art and the works of my inspired contemporaries.”
A handful of Swiss guards marched up and stamped to a halt, leading four well-groomed horses. The leader saluted the companions with his halberd and said, “His Holiness insists that you accept at least this much of a gift from him.”
Sir Guy grinned. “This we will take, and gladly! Thank his Holiness for us! ”Yes, thanks indeed.“ Matt turned to the dragon, who lay waiting by the wall. ”You don’t mind, do you, Stegoman?“
“Mind?” the dragon snorted. “It is I who shall thank his Holiness most of all!”
Chapter 24
“You are free, then,” Sir Guy said as they rode out of the Vatican and into Reme proper, “and so is the pope. But what progress have you made?”
“Well,” Matt said, “we have Arouetto.”
The scholar smiled sadly. “The Lord Wizard took me from my prison, because he seems to think I can reform the young king.”
“Makes sense,” Matt said. “Why else would the chancellor have locked you up in his special dungeon?”
“Why,” said Sir Guy, “because he is the last legitimate heir to the throne of Latruria.”
Matt, Saul, and Stegoman swung about to stare at the scholar, but all he did was glare ferociously at Sir Guy. The Black Knight only kicked his heels wide sides and said, “Deny it if you can.”
“Would that I could,” the scholar growled, “for it has been a dozen generations since my family ruled!”
“Hold on!” Matt held up a hand. “Maledicto wasn’t that old!”
“No, but he was the usurper of a usurper of a usurper,” Sir Guy explained, “or rather, of three families of usurpers. I would call them dynasties if they had lasted more than a few generations each-but they did not.”
“Three centuries is a long time to say a bloodline’s preserved,” Matt said dubiously. “Six centuries, rather,” Sir Guy said, “for Scholar Arouetto’s right comes from an ancestor who was the last emperor of the Latrurian empire.”
Saul nodded slowly, gaze still on Arouetto. “No wonder you’re interested in the Classics!”
“How could you know all this?‘ Arouetto demanded. Sir Guy shrugged. ”It is one of the things I know by right of birth.“
“His family has been tracking the genealogies of the kings of Europe for several centuries.” Matt didn’t feel the need to explain that Sir Guy was the last lineal descendant of Emperor Hardishane. “You have your field of expertise, he has his. His career is trying to restore legitimate lines to the thrones of this continent-and just incidentally return their countries to devotion to Right and God.”
“I can see that might entail such knowledge,” Arouetto allowed. “But it is useless in my case, friend. I have no wish to rule, nor had my father nor my grandfather. We only wished to be left in peace, to pursue our studies.”
Sir Guy made no reply, but his eyes glittered as he watched Arouetto. The scholar sighed. “You may as well say it-the blood of the Caesars has grown thin. Well, perhaps it has, my friend-or perhaps my idea of worthy pursuits differs from that of my ancestors. Try to open your mind enough to imagine that my work might be as important as Julius Caesar’s, in its way.”
Sir Guy turned his face away quickly-probably to hide a look of infinite sadness, for to him, no work was so important as that of government-but Matt said, “There is something to what he says, Sir Guy. He has developed new standards for deciding what’s right and wrong-but most of his conclusions are right in line with the Bible’s. He just has a high opinion of a few things the Book doesn’t mention, that’s all-and there’s a chance King Boncorro might embrace his ideas, though he scorns religion.”
Sir Guy turned back to him slowly. “Do you mean that he might yet save the country that is his weal?”
“He might,” Matt said, “by saving the king who governs it.”
Sir Guy turned to Arouetto, looking him up and down as if he were seeing the scholar in a whole new light. “Surely you do not mean that you have but to walk into the king’s castle with this scholar,” Stegoman rumbled, “and all will be mended!”
“Hey, even I’m not that stupid. Sure, we have to get him to the king, but even after that, it will take a while.” Matt turned back to contemplate Arouetto. “But how are we going to get you in there without getting you killed?”
They were all silent for a while, thinking up ways and means. Finally Saul said, “Camouflage?”
Matt turned to him, puzzled. “What did you have in mind?”
“Safety in numbers,” Saul explained. “If you could find a dozen more scholars and poets, maybe you could smuggle Arouetto in with the rest of them-provided the king would let them in, of course.”
“I think he just might,” Matt said slowly, “and that reminds me of a young friend of mine. I magicked him and his girlfriend out of Boncorro’s castle, but I haven’t had a chance to check and make sure they landed okay.”
“How did this discussion of a college of scholars bring them to mind?” Stegoman rumbled. “Because the kid’s a poet, but he doesn’t realize it,” Matt said. “He thinks the only career worth having is knighthood.”