Part 37 (1/2)
Mistress? Lover? wondered Dewar. He continued to speak in her ear. ”Second way will not work with him. He's certainly proofed against sorcerous Summonings.”
”Summonings,” she repeated.
”It is a usual practice. Unfortunately he is probably also proofed against the cla.s.s of lesser spells which afford vision of a person without actually intruding into his sphere of experience. And that leaves the cla.s.sical method.”
”What's that?” Freia asked.
”If you were Prospero, where would you go next?”
”You're joking.”
”No. Where would you go?”
”That's all you can do? Guess?” Her voice rose with disbelief.
”Are you going to throw me off here?” He was sure she wouldn't.
”No .... I thought-I'm sorry. I don't know where he'd go,” she said unhappily. ”Where would you go if you were him?”
”I'd probably run to earth for a while. Hide, lick my wounds, plan another attack.”
”He hasn't.”
”You're sure?”
She nodded. ”I wouldn't have come looking for you if I were.”
”I see. Let me think about it then.”
”How did you find him in the tower?”
”Ah, actually Ottaviano, whom you just met, told his wife where he was, and I happened to be listening. No sorcery, just luck.”
Freia sighed. Trixie's muscles moved rhythmically. Dewar's legs were cramping with the effort of clinging to the animal's slippery, silken back; the furry feathers, or feathery fur, were dense, soft, and hard to grasp. His face was cold; he ducked down more, using Freia as a windscreen.
”It would help me to guess,” Freia said after a minute or so of silent scenic flight, ”if I knew more about how that last battle went.”
316.
*ECizaBetfi Sorcerer and a Qentkman 317.
”He was defeated and he surrendered.”
”More than that. Where are-where are his men? His allies? Dead?”
”Not last I saw. The survivors of his army were taken captive. I suspect Gaston would move them as rapidly as he could to some safe holding area.”
”How do you know so much, may I ask, about how and who and what?”
”I was working with Ottaviano,” Dewar said, ”but not under contract, and I decided to free Prospero after he was taken. And I did.”
”You betrayed your side?”
”They aren't, and weren't, my side. There was nothing to bind me to them but friends.h.i.+p, and I saw no harm in helping Prospero escape from certain execution.”
”Execution,” she repeated.
He felt her pulse jump.
”Yes. The Emperor hates him.”
”He never said-” she stopped herself. ”Execution!”
”What would you expect? He's attacked Landuc before.”
She shook her head. ”Why did you help him escape?”
”It seemed a great waste to me. Personal reasons. Whimsy. Mischief. I'm not sure. Perhaps he laid a geas on me to do it, when I wasn't looking.”
”Hm,” Freia said.
The mountains were flattening out. The valley bottoms held bluish evergreens and brooks, and Dewar had spotted white specklings of sheep on the hills. Or cattle, perhaps. Out grazing in winter-it was odd weather, indeed.
”Usually the snow here is shoulder-deep by now.”
”Is it?”
”Yes. I was here last winter and there's no getting around after the solstice. Sun turns and sky churns, they say.”
”Maybe it all fell where we were. I never saw so much snow. -I'm looking for a place to set down,” Freia said. ”Trixie's tired, and so am I, and you're slipping a bit.”
”It was a long walk out, let us say. However, I am glad you changed your mind and came back for me.”
”He would have killed you.”
”Oh, I think I'd have taken him.”
”He wanted to kill you. I never saw anyone so angry. He was berserk.”
”Hm. He might have a streak of that in him. They say old Panurgus had terrible rages.”
”You've fallen back. You must move closer while we go down.”
”Sorry. You're right, I'm tired.” He hunched close to Freia again, feeling her body moving inside the leather suit she wore. Practical for flying: warm, windproof. Trixie was swooping in long, slow spirals. Freia was aiming for a pile of stones which resolved itself into a tumbled hut or fold. The descent took far longer than the landing, which was a brief, bone-jarring impact.
”It's difficult with two,” Freia said, and clucked to the gryphon, petting and praising her.
Dewar disentangled himself from her and slid awkwardly to the ground. His legs were sore, pressed and strained in strange places by gryphon anatomy. He walked in stiff circles while Freia took saddlebags and a bedroll from the animal's neck and talked to her fondly. Trixie bounded into the air then and rose quickly.
”Where's she going?” Dewar asked.