“I fear that snakes reproduce very quickly.” Prester John sighed. “And she shall have many more warriors in a year's time, or less. This conflict is not ended, Lord Wizard, only postponed.”
“Well, at least we know what she's planning now,” Matt said brightly. “Not the details, maybe, but enough to be on guard.”
Prester John frowned at the fountain of fire. “We cannot have that torch burning forever upon the plain”
“Perhaps we can fly over it with vats of water and dump them upon it for you,” Stegoman suggested.
“It is very good of you to offer, excellent beast,” the emperor acknowledged, “but fire will not quench this stone.”
“What will?” Stegoman asked.
Several people started to answer, then caught themselves in time.
“What?” Stegoman glowered at all the humans about him. “What is this you do not wish me to hear?”
“Understand, we're not asking anything of you,” Matt said quickly, “but… uh … the only thing that will put out that fire is dragon's blood.”
“N-o-o-o-o!” Stegoman roared, rearing back and contributing some fire of his own.
The humans jumped away from the jet, gibbering in terror.
Dimetrolas scowled at her fiance. “What is this, searing serpent? Do you fear to shed a few drops in a good cause?”
Stegoman huffed, trying to find the right words, but Matt got there ahead of him. “It's a phobia of his, dragon lady—a terrible, deeply rooted fear. It goes back to the first few minutes after he kicked his way out of the egg, when a hatchling-hunter caught him.”
“A hatchling-hunter! One who sought to catch small dragons, that he might sell their blood to sorcerers?”
“The very same,” Matt told her.
Prester John shuddered. “I cannot blame the beast—I have an antipathy for people who want my blood, too.”
“It goes with the office,” Matt agreed.
“However,” Prince Tashih pointed out, “that would not stop you from shedding every drop if you thought it necessary to protect your people.”
“It is one thing to give of one's own blood,” Dimetrolas told them, “but another to have it drained from you.”
Matt blinked; he hadn't expected compassion from the acerbic Dimetrolas.
She surprised him, though. She turned to Stegoman and said, “Poor little fellow that you were! Small wonder you are horrified at the prospect of being cut! This at least I may do for you, dear drake.” With that, she launched and pounded her way into the sky.
“Dimetrolas! Wait! Beware the updrafts!” Stegoman sprang into the sky right behind her.
“We should aid,” the giant purple cat boomed to Matt.
“I think they've got the situation under control.” Matt gazed after the flying couple. “In fact, if they come out of this all right, I think it will do wonders for their relationship … Would you do me a favor, princess? Change back into a woman?”
“Oh. Yes, my form is rather disconcerting.” Balkis began to shrink and reshape herself. Anthony leaped off hastily.
Matt didn't bother watching the transformation; he'd seen it before. He watched the two winged forms sailing over the plain, then suddenly rocking and plunging in the updrafts from the blaze. He couldn't see exactly what happened, but the fire began to die even before the two dragons turned and came sailing back.
They landed in a booming of huge wings, and Stegoman bellowed, “Quickly! Heal her wound, wizard, for I would not have her die even as the flames do!”
Matt ran forward and caught Dimetrolas' foreleg. He winced at the sight of the ragged wound but started reciting the healing spell.
Even as he chanted, Stegoman exulted, “She is the bravest of the brave! Over the very blaze she flew and cut herself with her own claw! Through scale and leathery hide she slashed, then watched a pint of her very own fluid of life fall into the flames! They die even now—but she must not!”
“Fret not, Flame Flier,” Dimetrolas said with a broad smile. She held up her foreleg to show him. “Your friend has healed me, and I am at last willing to own that humans may have their uses.”
“A thousand thanks, Matthew!” Stegoman rumbled.
“I think you've already given them.”
“An emperor's thanks to the gallant Dimetrolas,” Prester John said.
“And a prince's,” Tashih said quickly.
“It is little enough that I have done.” But Dimetrolas raised shining, heavy-lidded eyes to Stegoman.
“Little? It is a pledge!” Stegoman breathed, “A blood-pledge, and I am minded to give one in return.”
“Your pledge I desire, but I have no use for your blood— unless it flows through the eggs of a brood of my own.”
“Do dragons marry?” Prester John asked Matt.
“They don't seem to think it necessary,” Matt replied.
“Why not?” Stegoman grinned down at Dimetrolas. “I have adopted so many other human ways!”
“But I have not,” she replied tartly. “Give me time, Winged Warrior—a century or two.”
“I shall give you my whole life ” he breathed, gaze locked on hers.
“That's the way they are.” Matt turned to Prester John. “Once they mate, they're together for life. It's the nature of the breed— in the genes.”
“Still, we might honor them with some small ceremony one day,” Prester John said, his eyes twinkling. Then he turned to his niece. “But we must honor most of all the young woman and young man who had the fantastic courage to plunge into the heart of an army of monsters and face lions! Without them, we would all have been lost!”
Anthony reddened and became very formal again. He bowed, saying, “It has been my privilege to serve, Your Majesty.” Then he turned and knelt before Balkis. “What more would you have of me, Your Highness?”
“Oh, do not call me that!” Balkis cried, stamping her foot.
Anthony looked up, stone-faced, but Matt said, “Okay, soldier, you heard the lady. That's her next order. Anything you'd like to add to that, princess?”
Anthony looked up, taken aback.
A gleam appeared in Balkis' eye. “Yes! Anthony, you must call me only 'Balkis' henceforth!”
“If—If you command it,” he said through wooden lips, “Balkis.” But still he knelt.
“Any other commands come to mind?” Matt asked in as casual manner as he could.
The gleam in Balkis' eye turned hot. “Yes! Anthony, rise and take me in your arms!”
Disbelief in his eyes, Anthony came to his feet and gathered her in.
She pouted up at him and, in the tones of a petulant child, commanded, “Kiss me!”
He looked down at her for a long minute, then grinned and kissed her.
“Well, that settles that,” Matt said loudly enough to break the mood.
They both jumped a little and stepped apart, blushing.
Matt went on, “We've established that he cares about you too much to let you go wandering alone, and you can't go into all the secure little nooks and crannies open to your cat shape with him along.”
“But I must be free to go where my people need me,” she protested.
“And I must still be your servant,” Anthony insisted. “You are a princess and I a peasant. I can never be anything more to you.”
“But you are!” she protested. “You are everything!”
“Even to us, you are already a battle-hero,” the prince pointed out.
Anthony looked up in surprise, then turned stubborn again.
“I think he needs a bath after all that hot exercise,” Matt said. “Come on, Anthony. If you want to serve a princess, you'd better clean up.”
Anthony turned to Prester John questioningly.
“Go with the Lord Wizard.” The emperor's gaze was thoughtful.
Anthony turned to Balkis, but she too nodded. “He has taught me much, Anthony, though I did not wish to admit it at the time. Go with him, if you love me.”
A
nthony's face closed again. He bowed to her, then turned to go with Matt.
The local form of bathing involved a large tiled chamber with wooden seats, massive towels around the waist, and huge quantities of steam. Matt waited until the heat and the moisture had relaxed the boy, then said, “Balkis never told you where she came from, did she?”
“Never.” Anthony tensed again. “If I had known she was a princess, I would not ever have dared court her.”
“Good reason not to let you know,” Matt said. “She is in love with you, you know—very deeply.”
Anthony made no answer, but frowned into the curls of mist about him.
“Of course, she didn't know she was a princess until a year ago.”
“What?” Anthony whirled to stare at Matt.
“It's true.” Matt nodded emphatically. “She was a baby when the barbarians conquered Maracanda, but her mother managed to set her adrift in a trunk just before they caught her. Some river sprites took pity on the baby and changed her into a kitten, because a month-old cat is a lot more likely to survive than a month-old baby.”
“More likely, yes,” Anthony said, his gaze glued to Mart's face, “but still prey to any who wish it.”
Matt nodded again. “Fortunately, the nixies turned her over to some dryads, and they raised her until she was big enough to get a job as a mouser with a caravan bound westward, out of barbarian territory. She never told you any of this, huh?”
“From this part, yes,” Anthony said slowly, “that she had traveled with a caravan in cat-form. She told me what she had seen of the great cities along that route—of Susa and Novo-gorod, of the wide plains and the dark forest.”
“But she didn't tell you that she grew up in one of those forests?”
“What!”
Matt nodded. “When she had gone far enough west to be safe and the caravan disbanded, she wandered into the woods and let the local brownies take care of her. They led her to a woodcutter's cottage and changed her back into a baby. The woodcutter and his wife were delighted—they'd always wanted children, and had never had any.”
“You do not mean to tell me she grew up as a common woodcutter's daughter!”
“I mean exactly that.” Matt met his eyes. “She was reared as a peasant, Anthony, just like you—but when she was grown, she found out she was something more.”
“But… but… how?”
Matt turned away to stare into the mist. “She was orphaned at sixteen and had the good sense to take her chances as a cat in the forest rather than as a young girl without protection. Oh, she knew she could change into a cat, she had that much ahead of you, and enough magic had rubbed off on her that she was able to work a few tricks—but when she was left alone in the world, she went to Idris, the local wise-woman, and learned magic. Learned very quickly, too, just as you do—she'd absorbed everything Idris could teach her in a single year. So again she started her travels—Idris sent her to me for advanced training.”
“And you brought her to Maracanda?”
“Yes, though I didn't know where we were going at the time,” Matt said, “only that barbarians were invading from the east and I had to stop them before they reached Merovence. I didn't even know she was human until we got bushwhacked in India. Balkis helped me fight off the barbarians—saved my life a few times, too. More importantly, she helped me rescue my children when they were kidnapped.” He turned to face Anthony again. “So you won't be too surprised that I came running when I heard she herself had been kidnapped.”
“No, certainly not,” Anthony agreed. “But when did she learn she was a princess?”
“After we'd helped Prester John win back Maracanda and sent the barbarians home to their steppes. Then he started comparing notes and found out she was his niece. He even managed to track down the nixies who had helped her survive as a baby, and they confirmed it—our peasant girl suddenly found out she was a princess.”
“If she grew up as a peasant, she has learned the graces of a lady with extraordinary speed!”
“Yes, she's a quick learner,” Matt said, “and Prester John tells me she has charmed the whole court. Still, though, I don't think she has a single close friend here. They all grew up in palaces, so none of them can understand what it's like to have been a peasant.”
Anthony studied his toenails, frowning.
Matt waited.
“But she does know her true station now,” Anthony said.
“Yes, but it took her a while to accept it—just as it's taking you.”
“I am no prince!”
“No, you're a wizard, and a very courageous warrior.” Matt shrugged. “Every noble house can trace their ancestry back to a commoner who was ennobled for his service to the crown and the nation. You've proved your worth by bringing Balkis safely home—”
Anthony started to protest.
Matt held up a hand to forestall him. “No, it doesn't matter that she saved your life as often as you saved hers—the fact remains that she would have died on the way if you hadn't been escorting her.”
Anthony closed his mouth and turned back to studying his feet.
“Of course, you didn't stop there,” Matt said. “You proved your worth in battle, too—proved yourself to have become much more than the peasant you were born, proved you're of a noble heart and noble mind, noble enough to aspire to the hand of a princess. Prester John and Prince Tashih are both eager to declare you to be a nobleman, if you'll just accept your due and let them.”
“They cannot make me noble,” Anthony muttered.
“No, they can only declare you to be so once you've proved it—and you have, whether you know it or not. Besides, Prince Tashih has his own reasons for liking you, whether he's stopped to think about it yet or not.”
Anthony looked up, frowning. “What reason is that?”
“I told you Balkis has charmed the whole court,” Matt said, “but if she marries a man who was born a peasant, she can never inherit—which she doesn't want to do, but that wouldn't stop some ambitious court faction from trying to push her into it and getting her killed in the process.”
Anthony stared at him, appalled.
“In that case,” Matt said, “marrying a man who was born a peasant but has proved himself to be noble might endear her to the masses, and thereby strengthen the throne even more.”
Anthony went back to contemplating the steam.
“Come on,” Matt said softly, “you know she isn't half the wizard she can be unless you're there to finish her verses for her. Why she has a block against end-lines, I don't know, but she does—and you have a block against starting them, but the two of you together are ten times as powerful as either of you alone. If that doesn't tell you something, nothing will.”
Anthony was still silent.
“Okay, so it won't tell you,” Matt went on, “but it has told Kala Nag. Who do you think is the other half of the pair that can block her conquest of the world? Not me, we've proved that—she can do just fine without me. But the two of you together have already beaten Kala Nag's sorcerers and army once. She knows you can do it again. She has to keep the two of you apart, and the surest way to do that is to kill Balkis.”
“No!” Anthony cried, horrified.
“That's why she was so angry at Balkis' kidnapper,” Matt said relentlessly. “His plans backfired; he wound up sending her to the one person in all the world who could make her a formidable power. That's a real laugh, isn't it? That delicate little girl, a formidable wizard—but she has the heart for it, and with you, she actually does have the power.”
“So the only way I can keep her alive, is to be with her?” Anthony asked.
“You got it,” Matt said.
Anthony still balked. “I am only a poor peasant! A man who would marry a princess must be wealthy.”
“Sure, a poor peasant with a fortune in gems in his pockets!”
Anthony stared up at Matt. “She told you that?”
“Only when I asked,” Matt told him.
“I saw you handing a goldsmith a nugget and a diamond in the bazaar, remember. I was worried you might have stolen them, but she set me straight.”
“I do have both nuggets and jewels,” Anthony admitted, “though they are now securely hidden, no longer on my person.”
“Either way, you're rich enough to propose. Any more objections?”
“Objections, no,” Anthony said slowly.
“But you do have questions? What?”
Anthony turned to him, eyes burning. “I have seen what barnyard animals do, but I know there must be more to it, for people. Tell me—how does a man couple with a woman and make it the ecstasy men speak of?”
Matt sighed, nerved himself to the task, and proceeded to tell Anthony what his father should have, but probably hadn't known himself. He also marveled at the excellent ruby color of Anthony's face as he told.
They were all invited to the victory banquet, of course— even Stegoman and Dimetrolas, but they didn't get the invitation; there was a full moon, and Stegoman had said something about trying a bit of night flying and about the twining of the flowers. After dinner Anthony turned to Balkis and gravely asked, “Will you come to teach me your northern stars, Balkis? I can recognize very few of the sky-pictures from my home.”
“Why … I shall be delighted, Anthony,” Balkis said, and they went out arm in arm.
Prince Tashih watched them go, frowning. “I cannot help but wonder if my cousin is safe alone with a lusty young man.”
“I am delighted at such a show of brotherly feeling,” Prester John said, beaming. “Still, Tashih, be not concerned—you have seen the sort of cat into which our Balkis can turn. Be assured that if Anthony misbehaves, Balkis has far stronger claws than any mortal woman I have known.”
“I still mistrust the night,” Tashih grumbled.
“Well, then, if it will ease your heart,” Prester John sighed, “I shall stroll in the gardens myself in company with the Lord Wizard—not closely enough to spy upon them, you understand, but certainly near enough to hear her cry out, though I doubt she will.”
Matt doubted it, too, very much. He went with the emperor, planning to stay only long enough to assure themselves it was just a lover's tryst.
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