The Dragon Knight

by Gordon R. Dickson

  "But if she can't have me, what difference does it make?" asked Jim.

  "All the difference in the world, you numbskull!" said Carolinus. "Didn't I just finish telling you that unless Malvinne can be brought to book for your being in the Kingdom of the Dead, you'll be held responsible for that? Similarly, with Melusine. Any damage she causes outside her own personal kingdom in the process of hunting for you and finding you, or in her upset at discovering, as she will, that she can't have you, will also be held to your account. You'll be the responsible party. Do you understand?"

  "You make it sound like part of a legal matter," said Jim, his head whirling.

  "It is a legal matter. A matter of law—even if that law is different from the law you're used to!" said Carolinus. "I've warned you. That's all I can do now, except for one more thing. This, too, I will be called to account for; but like the business of letting you use my account to do magic, it'll only involve me in your violations to the point where I'll have to pay a fine. By your standards—a very heavy fine. By mine—well, it will be something I can live with. Similarly, with what I'm going to do now. Theoretically, I should do nothing for you magically, as long as you have no account and, while technically a magician, are not considered practicing. But I'm going to do it anyway; and incur another possibly heavy fine. For the next twenty-four hours, therefore, I hereby protect you against any magic that Malvinne may direct at you."

  "That's—very good of you indeed!" stammered Jim, "but if it's going to cost you more than you can afford, then perhaps I should try to muddle through without it—"

  "You wouldn't have a chance, boy!" said Carolinus. "Don't you understand that? The minute you corner Malvinne, he'll begin to use magic against you. What little you know about the Art will stand no more chance in the face of that, than a sparrow would, trying to fly into the teeth of a hurricane."

  "Tell me one more small thing, then," said Jim. "You've already said that somehow I have to prevent either army on this field from winning the battle; and I don't have the slightest idea of how to go about it. If you could give me just a hint—"

  "I can hint you nothing!" said Carolinus in a hard voice. "I've done all I can do; and more than I should do, already. You know what needs to be done. Do it if you can."

  His voice softened suddenly.

  "And my love and good wishes go with you, James," he said gently. "Forgive me, but that's all that I have to give you now. Come, you should be getting back to your men. The first division of the French horse has already begun its charge down the field at the English line."

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  "Hell! Already?" said Jim, and started out at a run through the trees back to where the rest of his men were.

  He ran, however, for only a few heavy, thudding yards, before it became obvious that, dressed in armor, he could not keep up this pace. He dropped then to a walk, and strode out as fast as he could. Just as he reached the point where the trees stopped and the field began, so that he could see what was going on beyond, he saw Brian and the other knights, standing rapt at the sight of the first slightly ragged but thick line of French armored horsemen moving their heavy warhorses from a walk into a trot, as they approached the midpoint of the field.

  There was a single, many-throated shout from the Genoese bowmen just before them. No shout in answer came back from the English line. The Genoese fired their crossbows, so that their bolts rose like a wide band of black pencil marks against the blue sky, and then scattered, to be out of the way of the knights riding up behind them.

  The crossbow bolts fell into the English ranks, but it was too for away for Jim to see what happened, even though he was panting up now to join Brian and the others. However, arrows now began to arc through the air from the two ends of the English formation, where the archer lines stood, and the French horse began to stumble and go down.

  But those who fell did not slow the advance of the line, which was now moving from a trot into a canter, making the ground thunder with the weight of its advance. Pennons and banners streamed bravely in the sun, and lances began to be moved into fighting position. It made an awesome sight, and it was hard to believe that the ponderous weight of that rank of iron could not sweep aside anything that stood in front of it, particularly the thin English line.

  "Brian!" gasped Jim, at last reaching his Companions. "What are you standing here for? It'll be any moment now that the hidden bowmen show themselves, if there are any hidden bowmen. Right now the King and his knights are as caught up in what they see on the field as the rest of you are. Get them to horse! Get them in wedge position, back in the woods, ready to go. No man is to take the leaves from his horse or his clothing until I give the word!"

  Brian and the others started as if they had just been turned from statues into living humans. Brian leading, they ran back into the woods, signaling the men-at-arms to move back with them to the horses.

  Jim was left, still fighting for breath, with only one person before him. Dafydd.

  "Didn't you hear what I said, Dafydd?" croaked Jim. "Get your men ready—your archers. Get them in position!"

  "It's in position they've been, the past half hour," answered Dafydd without moving. "Wat and young Clym Tyler are out on the right flank of where your wedge will ride. Will o'the Howe is on the left flank, waiting for me; and I go to join him now. I wait for only one word from you. On what signal shall we archers take the leaves from us and become visible?"

  "We—" Jim still had to stop to snort in air. "We want to wait to the last moment. I'll have the knights take their greenery off before they charge. There's too much danger of one of them forgetting, if I wait. But I'd like your archers to stay unseen as late as possible. What if they stand up now, ready to shoot, then throw their leaves aside just at the moment that our wedge passes you? Or is that cutting it too fine?"

  "It is not," said Dafydd. "If we notch our arrows at the moment when the wedge passes, we will have time and to spare for picking our targets. So we will do, then."

  He turned and strode off to Jim's left on his long legs. Neither the King nor any of those with him looked back and saw the parting of the grass, as Dafydd's invisible shape moved to position. Once at the point from which he would shoot, Dafydd stayed erect. Will o'the Howe rose from the grass to stand with him; and, seeing this across the little distance between them, the other two archers also rose and stood ready.

  Jim turned and hurried back to join the rest of those in the wedge. To his relief, they were all armored, mounted, and ready, although the wedge itself was not yet formed. Theoluf was standing, holding his horse for him. Jim climbed into his saddle, took the lance that Theoluf handed him, and watched his squire mount his own horse.

  Then he rode into the knot of men and horses at the front of the wedge, where the knights were.

  "Everyone ready?" he asked of them all. "Now, I'll take the point of the wedge—"

  "The Goddamn bloody hell you will!" exploded Brian. He checked himself, breathed deeply for a moment and then went on in a voice only slightly lowered. "Forgive, me, if I seem to ill-say you before these gentlemen, James. But well you know I'm aware of how you are with weapons. And I tell you frankly to your face that you are not such a lance as is needed to lead at the point of this wedge. I will ride point in the wedge. Sir Raoul, I take you for a man who has seen battle before. Will you ride half a horse length back and at my right? John Chester, the same position on my left. Behind John Chester, Theoluf—and well you remember, Theoluf, that your shield is to guard two men; not merely yourself but Sir James!"

  "Fear not, Sir Brian," said Theoluf harshly. "That is the last thing I will forget."

  "James, do you take the middle position, with your horse directly behind mine, and your spear leveled out to the left across the withers of John Chester's horse," went on Brian. "Tom Seiver, you will ride on Sir James's right, likewise remembering that you guard not merely yourself but him; and direct your lance to the right across the withers of Sir Raoul's horse, w
hen the shock comes—"

  "Just a minute!" snapped Jim. "What are you trying to do with me, Brian? Guard me, as the King of France is guarded? I'm here to fight along with the rest of you; because every lance we have is going to be needed!"

  "Every lance but yours, James," said Brian, his mouth a thin line. "But yours, James! Consider, that if we lose you we lose everything. What boots us to win our way to the French King, Malvinne and the false Prince, unless we have you alive with us to deal with Malvinne and expose the magic that makes the false Prince seem what he is? The whole purpose of our charge would go for naught, if you should be killed along the way. As it is, I doubt not you will find work enough, even surrounded by the rest of us, as you are."

  Jim winced internally. It was no more than the same argument he had used with Prince Edward only a short time before. He could not argue against it now. Moreover, he thought, facing the truth within himself, this was the moment in which Brian should be the field leader and should be making the decisions. If Giles were here, Giles would also be riding ahead of him or on one side of him—and correctly so—according to what Brian had said. Jim had to admit that all of it was the truth. He bit his tongue against any further argument.

  "The rest of you know your positions as we practiced them," Brian was saying. "Into them now, immediately. Follow my signal forward, but be ready for Sir James's order that you throw away all twigs about both you and your horse. Let not one of you fail to do that, for I will hang any man who does. James, when the time comes, you had probably best shout. We will be making more than a little noise with our horses' hooves and armor. I doubt not that, even interested in the field as they are, the King and those with him will hear our approach and do their best to turn and face us."

  Jim cast a quick eye back over the wedge and saw them all in place behind him, as they were in place before.

  "Now!" he shouted. "Throw any twigs and leaves you've got away now!"

  Sir Brian smiled back over his shoulder at him, a brief, grim smile. Then his head turned forward again.

  "Ride!" he cried: "And keep together!"

  They started out, as the French first line had done, at a walk, but much more quickly accelerated to a trot, a canter, and a gallop. As they emerged from the trees there was a cry before them from the men around the King. Off to the near side, which was the only side he could see well at all, Jim now saw at each end of the harrow, a new line of men stretching forward toward the French, on their feet and holding bow staves in their arms. A fresh flight of arrows marred the blue of the sky.

  For a moment the King and those with him had no eyes, except for what was in front of them. Then someone's ears must have picked up the thunder of hooves behind them; for a voice shouted over the babble of talk that was going on.

  "We're attacked!"

  It was impossible for Jim to see the King and his knights clearly, because of the bodies rising and falling with the galloping of the horses, ahead of him. They were going all out toward their target and it seemed to him as if they had been taking an unreasonable length of time to reach the group around the French King. Then, without warning, they reached it.

  Jim had had the experience of his battle with the Ogre, when he had been in the body of Gorbash the dragon; and he had also felt the impact when, with his own men-at-arms and Brian's, he had ridden into the rabble besieging Castle Smythe. But nothing had prepared him for this terrific shock, in which heavily armored individuals on heavy horses slammed into equally armored men and horses at a speed that must be close to twenty miles an hour.

  The impact was unbelievable. Jim literally felt himself thrown against the hard interior surface of his own armor. Horses were forced up on their hind legs by the forces of their coming together, screaming and lashing out with their hooves. A shock he could not believe traveled up the lance he was holding, and he stared dumbfounded at the half of its splintered length that remained in his grasp.

  They were deep among the body of French knights, but the crash of coming together had forced the wedge apart. He found himself facing an unfamiliar figure in armor with slanting black lines painted across the upper part of its visor and helmet. Jim's sword—he was not even conscious of having drawn it—was in his hand and it jarred against the other's sword in midair. He remembered to bring up his shield, as he disengaged his sword, so that a second blow hammered on the shield, driving him backwards in the saddle.

  Jim struck back with his own sword, but met only empty air. The knight with the black bars painted on his helmet was falling out of his saddle, face forward, with the feathered end of an arrow sticking out of the center of his armor's back plate. For a moment there was no one in front of Jim. He saw two more enemy knights drop from their saddles as if by magic, and knew that the arrows of the bowmen were doing exactly what Dafydd had promised, clearing a way for them. Brian was still ahead of him. Brian rode forward and he followed.

  Suddenly they were in an open space, with none but their own men around them.

  His horse, Brian's, and Raoul's were roughly level; and then in the little space before them stood a knight of slightly less than ordinary size, in armor richly inlaid with gold, apparently already unhorsed. He held his sword in hand, but had no shield. The staff of the French flag, driven into the ground behind him, still held the Leopards and Lilies aloft, curling slowly as it rippled in the light breeze.

  By some miracle Brian's spear was unbroken. He leveled it now at the knight in the rich armor.

  "Yield!" he said.

  But Sir Raoul was already off his horse, down on his feet, and kneeling before the very man at whom Jim's spear was pointed, trying to pick up one of the knight's gauntleted hands that was free and bring it to his lips that he had exposed by throwing back his visor.

  "My liege!" said Sir Raoul. "Forgive me! It was never against Your Majesty, but against Malvinne, I acted!"

  "And who are you?" asked the knight in the rich armor, putting up his visor and looking down at Raoul.

  "I am the son of he who was the Comte d'Avronne; who was a true and loyal servant of Your Majesty, even after the arch-sorcerer Malvinne falsely attainted him of treason, and had him stripped of his title and his lands—to Malvinne's benefit. While he lived he served Your Highness, nonetheless; as have I. My only object is to rid you of that incubus I just mentioned. All my enmity has been against him! Forgive me, if that enmity has made me seem to league against you, my King!"

  "Yield, Your Majesty!" said Brian again. "You are surrounded. You have no way of escape."

  "I yield me then—" The French' King looked down at Raoul, and passed him the sword he still held. "But to this gentleman who kneels to me now, and who is a good Frenchman rather than an English. I yield on one condition. Call off those devil archers. I would have no more of my good Lords and knights slain by their wicked shafts."

  "Dafydd!" shouted Jim over his shoulder. "Tell the archers to stop shooting!" The whistling of the arrows ceased.

  King Jean raised his voice, in turn.

  "I have yielded!" he shouted. "All knights of mine, lay down your arms and surrender as I have done."

  Brian was off his horse now, and he knelt on one knee also, before the French King. Jim dismounted clumsily and followed his example, wondering a little at himself. He remembered he had not been able to bring himself to kneel before his own, English Prince. But here he was kneeling before the French King. Perhaps practice was making it possible.

  "Forgive us also, Highness," said Brian. "We do not rejoice in your capture. But it is a duty to our own King that brings us to it."

  He rose to his feet again, and Jim felt he was therefore at liberty to do likewise. King Jean took Sir Raoul's hand and raised him to his feet as well.

  "And now you have conquered me, gentlemen," said the King, taking off his helmet. He was a pleasant looking man of middle age, going bald, and with what hair he had left already turned to gray. "What do you propose to do with me?"

  He looked at Brian.

>   "I assume you command this band of English ruffians?"

  Brian took half a step backward.

  "Not I, Highness," said Brian bluntly, "but Sir James Eckert, here besides me. His fame may not have reached to your land, but in our own country he is known for his deeds by the name of the Dragon Knight."

  "Yes," said the King, his eyes shifting to Jim and running him up and down. Jim felt that he should take off his own helmet, and did so. "Some rumor of you, sir, has reached even our ears. I was also aware of the red upon your shield. So, you are another magician, are you not?"

  "A minor magician, Highness," answered Jim. "But it is in that capacity I am here; since my concern also is Malvinne, your minister."

  "A minor magician to deal with Malvinne?" said the King. "What sense is this? Malvinne is a mighty sorcerer and wizard. Otherwise I would not have raised him to the exalted position he now holds as my counselor. To send a minor English magician to deal with him in any capacity is not only ridiculous, but comes close to being an affront to our royal self as well. By the way, where is Malvinne and the English Prince?"

  The King looked around him.

  "Right here," answered half a dozen voices that Jim found familiar, interrupted by another, waspish voice that Jim had heard before in the castle where he and the others had rescued the young Prince.

  "And keep your hands off me, unless you want them turned into leper's claws!"

  Malvinne walked out from among the horses, with the Prince beside him. Jim's breath checked for a moment. It was almost impossible to believe that what he was looking at was not the young man he had left to hide among the stones only a short time past. What he saw now not only looked like Prince Edward; but was Prince Edward, in every detail down to the clothes, the manner of walking, and the expression on his face.

  "I stood back to see just what was going on before I showed myself," said Malvinne, marching forward to stand by the King and being followed by the Prince. He pointed a finger at Jim. "Still!"