"Aye, certes!" Yverne set off, taking the lead. "Come, milords, and allow me to show you the way; this is, at least, ground I have passed over some several times, in my childhood."
"Beware!" Fadecourt cried, pointing upward. They all turned to look.
A small, winged shape swooped toward them, growing larger and larger.
"Stegoman!" Matt yelped in glee. Then he had to dodge aside, as the buffeting of air from the dragon's wings almost knocked him over. He bounced back, running up to his old friend with a grin. "How'd you find us?"
"I have been circling about the castle since first I struck at it with boulders carried aloft, then torched the battlements and stooped upon the courtyard," the dragon informed him. "Nay, I had thought thou wouldst never have come out from that place. What kept thee?"
"Bad spells," Matt explained. "That duke is a more powerful sorcerer than he looks to be. But it helped a lot, having the guards suddenly forget about us."
"I had hoped some distraction would serve. Nay, I bethought me to ramp through their halls in search of thee, but they brought arrows enough to engender some caution."
"Wise, and timely." Matt made a stirrup of his hands and boosted Yverne up. "Mind carrying the lady?"
"The lady, and all of thee! Let us not dally, ere the duke and his sorcerers think to enchant us again!"
"Good point; certain parties persuaded me not to kill him, and he might come to, any moment." Matt swung aboard.
"Ah, thou didst beset him, then! But what daft soul bade thee leave him living?"
"Certain parties with more conscience than I have." Matt reached down to help pull Sir Guy up onto Stegoman's back. Fadecourt, of course, had already leaped up from the hind leg. "All in all, though, I think they've probably saved us at least as much as you and I have, considering the local rules. So definitely, let's leave them to stew in their own brew."
"Even so." The dragon spread his wings and sprang into the sky, beating furiously to gain altitude.
"You cannot do this terribly long," Yverne said, worried. "We are too great a load, even for one so mighty as thyself."
"Gramercy, damsel," the dragon puffed. "And, aye, I shall come to earth so soon as we are clear of this vile duke's domain. If 'twere not for the knight's armor, I would carry thee from here to Merovence; yet I would not have him leave it behind, I assure thee."
"Save your breath," Matt advised, eyeing the treetops below with apprehension. "Find us a good updraft, okay? Or shall I make one?"
"I shall manage," Stegoman assured him hastily.
"Hey, I'm not making as many mistakes as I was three years ago!"
"I rejoice to hear it."
"Mistakes?" Yverne looked back at Sir Guy, questioning.
"A tale for another time," he advised. "Hold fast, milady."
"Be mindful, they have not spent all their arrows!" Alisande said sternly to her little army. "If they shoot, bring up shields, and right quickly—the more so since they'll likely wait till we're at close range."
The infantry glanced uncertainly at one another, then let out a half-hearted cheer, which became stronger as others joined in.
A swordsman in the front ranks hefted his shield—heavy oak, with three layers of oxhide. "Fear not, good friends—our planks shall stop their shafts!"
"Indeed they shall, good hearts." Alisande smiled as she turned to face the enemy, lifting her own shield and drawing her sword. "For Merovence and Saint Moncaire!"
"Saint Moncaire and the queen!" the army roared with a single voice, and they started their long climb up the hundred yards of hill.
They didn't run—Alisande had pointed out that there was no purpose to it, until the last ten yards or so, when it would give them some momentum to help break through the Ibilian line. But her knights ranged beside her, on foot, as were they all—horses would be small help in an uphill charge—and she felt the excitement of battle thrill through her. She had to give voice to it; she called out the old, old battle song,
Her whole army roared out the verse after her, and, chanting, they strode up toward the army of witchcraft.
CHAPTER 23
Well Wast Well-Wist
They landed fifty miles away, though Stegoman insisted he was good for twice that much. "No," Matt said firmly. "I want some energy reserves, not utter exhaustion. You can never tell what we're going to have to deal with when we land."
Stegoman grumbled something about lack of confidence, but glided down in a spiral. His wings roared as he hovered and slowly settled the last ten feet, griping every inch of the way about it being unnecessary.
"Then why are you panting?" Matt asked.
"The Demon could...lend me energy if...I had need of it...Wizard!"
"Yes, but you'd have to pay it back when the emergency was over," Matt pointed out. "Not even magic can get it for you free, Stegoman. Wholesale, maybe, but not free."
The dragon struck earth, flexing his legs to take up the shock, but it still jarred Matt's back teeth. He swung down to a scaled knee, calling, "Okay! Everybody off except the lady! Give the dragon a break before you break the dragon's giving."
Fadecourt was ahead of him, leaping nimbly from knee to grass, then looking back up at Yverne—and stiffening. "Wizard, 'ware!" He pointed at the sky. "What great bird is that who stoops upon us?"
"Down, damsel!" Stegoman snapped. "I must be free to rise in battle!"
"Wait a minute, no." Matt put out a hand to Stegoman's leg, and could almost feel the adrenaline rising. "I think I recognize that silhouette. At least, I haven't seen too many birds with four legs."
"Is't a dragon, then?" Still, Stegoman craned his neck back, looking up. "Nay, thou hast it aright—the beast hath a bird's tail and talons. Could it be that irresponsible excuse for a monster, come home at last?"
The winged form swelled amazingly fast, and Narlh struck earth a hundred yards behind. He galloped toward them, wings cupped, slowing, and skidded to a halt beside them. "There y' are! Wadda ya mean, taking off like that without waiting for me?"
"Waiting!" Stegoman cried. "Thou great lumbering lummox, wherefore didst thou fly from us and desert us?"
Narlh tossed his scaly snout, dismissing the point. "I kept looking and looking, but I couldn't find you in all that clammy gray stuff. By the time I found the edge where it was clearing, you guys were just getting hauled through the gates. I figured the best idea was to lay low and wait for a chance. Then, first thing I knew, here was the dragon, scorching the parapets, and I figured it was now or never, so I started dive-raking the gate tower. Got all the sentries cleared out, too, and I held it for an hour at least, but you never showed up! What took you so long, anyhow?"
"We found the back door," Matt explained. "But you helped more than you knew—all of a sudden, none of the guards had time to worry about us. When did you decide to let them have their walls back?"
"When the duke came staggering out of the keep—and you know how I feel about sorcerers. So I made a quick exit, thank you, and climbed up as high as I could to get out of range. Then I saw wings off to the east, and I figured it had to be the dragon, if I could see him that far away. Not as fast as he used to be, though."