Saul glanced at the seminar in surprise, then back at Matt. “Just don’t suck them into anything that’s going to go sour, okay?”
“No,” Matt said slowly, “I don’t think there’s too much chance of that.”
They watched and listened with delight and fond memories, until finally Pascal sat bolt-upright and cried, “My Heavens, the hour! And we must hoe tomorrow!”
“Let the weeds grow,” Escribo told him. “One day will not hurt the crops so very much-but we may never again have such a chance to hear a true scholar speak!”
“We must not keep him if he grows weary,” Berylla cautioned.
“Weary, when so many good-hearted young folk are pouring energy into me? Never!” Arouetto smiled. “I shall talk as long as you, my young friends!”
“The professor’s ego trip,” Saul sighed. “Hooks ‘em every time.”
“Even so, there are a lot worse ways of boosting your ego,” Matt reminded him. “Besides, it only works on real teachers.”
“And just what do you think you’re going to do with them?”
“Crash the seminar, of course.” Matt glanced at the stars and made a quick guess at the time. “Even so, I think I had better turn in-I’m going to need my energy tomorrow.” He waited for a lull in the conversation, then called out, “Escribo! Mind if I lie down in your barn?”
“Barn?” The young man started up, looking guilty. “No, my friend! You must have a proper bed!”
“Tomorrow night,” Matt told him. “Right now, I wouldn’t dream of busting up the conference-and hay will make a fine bed, better than most I’ve had lately.” He turned to the scholar. “Good night, Arouetto. Next time, charge tuition.”
Chapter 25
“Look, I gave you a day to rest up,” Matt said, “and I warned you we would have to leave around noon. Can I help it if you stayed up all night talking again?”
“But when I have been alone so many years,” Arouetto groaned, “young and eager minds are so hard to resist!”
“I understand, and I wish more of my professors had thought that way. But now we have another prospective student for you to talk to.”
“And who is that?”
“The king. Okay, Saul, grab his other hand. Ready? Chant!”
They had worked this out before they told Arouetto-decided they needed to make the most dramatic entrance possible, and worked out the verse that would do it They stood in the center of the farmyard, calling out,
Nothing happened. Well, actually, for a moment they felt a terrific straining around them, a feeling of being caught in the center of a whirlpool made of two forces pulling and pushing against one another and trying to stretch them out of shape in the process-but the whirlpool suddenly seemed to snap back against them, rocking them all.
“What was that?” Arouetto gasped.
“That was our transportation spell, crashing headlong into King Boncorro’s protective spell,” Matt said. “Blast! He’s too strong! Even the two of us together couldn’t break through!”
“Well,” Saul said, eyeing Stegoman, “we do have another means of transport that’s almost as dramatic.”
“More so, in its way.” Matt turned to his old friend with a sigh. “Sorry to have to ask you again, Stegoman-but would you mind terribly much flying into the jaws of mortal danger again?”
As they circled around the castle, Arouetto reached over Matt’s shoulder to point. “What troop of glittering cavalry is that?”
“Queen Alisande!” Matt yelped. “That’s no army-that’s my wife!”
‘Think we ought to wait for her to catch up?“ Saul called.
Matt thought about it while Stegoman swept through another quarter turn, coming closer. Below him, people in the courtyard began to scream and point, or run, according to their taste. ”No,“ Matt said, ”let’s go on in. A little more surprise won’t hurt.“
Five miles away Ortho the Frank pointed at the wheeling form and cried, “Your Majesty! ‘Tis the dragon Stegoman!”
Alisande looked up, surprised, then cried, “Surely it is he! But why does he not come to us?”
“He goes to the king’s castle instead, your Majesty! There must be a most strenuous reason!”
“Matthew in danger!” Alisande’s hand fell to her sword, then windmilled up to signal to her army. “Ride, men of mine! Your master is endangered! Ride, and bring down that fell keep if we must!”
The army shouted behind her and kicked their horses into a canter.
Matt and Saul muttered quick ricochet spells, and the crossbow bolts and spears fell clattering to the parapet as Stegoman glided over. People shrieked and scrambled out of the way as he lowered down toward the courtyard; the effect was of a big circle opening in the daily traffic, and Stegoman came to rest in it. Then he lifted his head and roared, letting out a blast of flame. ‘Take my master to the king! And woe unto him who tries to smite me!“
Matt slid down and turned to ease the scholar to the ground as Saul and Sir Guy helped lower him, then leaped down beside them. “Stay here,” Matt told Stegoman, “unless there’s danger. If there is, take off and circle until we come out.”
“Gladly.” Stegoman glared about him, paying special attention to any of the guards who seemed to be trying to pluck up nerve. “Which of these churls would seek to hinder me?”
“Sorcerers,” Matt answered, “though I suspect the main one is going to be too busy to worry about a bat wing in his bailey. Still, let’s make it tougher for him.” He began to march around Stegoman, chanting,
“Rather more than twice,” Stegoman said, “if ‘spirits of petrol’ refers to mine own flame. It is unkind of you, Matthew, to remind me of my unsavory past.”
“Sorry, old saurhead,” Matt apologized, “but I’m more concerned with reminding any potential attackers than you.”
“Well, I will suffer it,” Stegoman sighed, “and so will they, if they seek to meddle.” He glared around him again. “Be about your business, now, so that we may leave soonest.”
“Gotcha. Good luck.” Matt turned away toward the door of the keep. Saul caught up, with Arouetto in tow and Sir Guy as rear guard. “Think anybody will get in our way?”
“Somehow,” Matt said, “I doubt it.” He turned toward the door to the keep, to test his theory. The guards at the door wavered, then crossed their pikes, though not with much precision. “His Majesty wanted to know when I escaped from the prison to which he sent me,” Matt said as he came up. “He would not appreciate having me stopped.”
He didn’t even miss a step. The guards wavered, but Sir Guy barked, “Stand aside!” Foot soldiers obeyed knights; that was all there was to it. They yanked their pikes aside and shoved the door open. Matt went right on in, with Arouetto and Saul close behind him. They marched into the throne room and found it packed with courtiers as usual-but they were just pulling back as a footman madly fought his way through to the throne. Matt stopped just inside the doors, waiting until the servant had managed to clear the last of the courtiers and was running up on the dais; then Matt called, “Don’t bother telling him we’re coming. It’s old news.”