He sailed around the corner under full steam, with the guardsman a foot behind him, bent double, hand reaching, and another guard right behind him. Rod and Gwen kicked their feet out from under them, and they belly-flopped on cold stone with a shout. Magnus and Cordelia yanked their helmets off, and Rod and Gwen struck down with reversed daggers. A grace note of nasty double chunks! sounded, and the guardsmen twitched and lay still, goose eggs swelling on the backs of their heads.

"They'll sleep for an hour or two, at the least." Gwen handed Magnus's dagger back to him.

"h.o.a.rstane? Ambrine?" A hoa.r.s.e voice called from around the corner.

Everyone froze. Rod's pulse beat high, with the hope that the third guard might follow the first two.

Unfortunately, he was a little too wary. "h.o.a.rstane!" he snapped again. There was silence; then the guardsman snarled again. Metal jangled as he turned away, and the door boomed shut; then a bolt snicked tight.

"Back in, and the door locked." Rod shook his head. "Well, we hadn't expected any more. You said you could handle four, son?"

Magnus nodded. "Without doubt." His eyes lost focus; he became very still.

Rod waited. And waited. Four, he reminded himself, were bound to take a little time.

Finally Magnus relaxed and nodded. "All sleep, Papa."

"Okay. You go get Elidor ready, while we get the door open."

Magnus nodded, and disappeared.

He'd started doing it when he was a baby, but Rod still found it unnerving. With people who were only friends, such as Toby, okay-but his own son was another matter. "Well, teamwork starts at home," he sighed. "After you, ladies."

They tiptoed up to the door. Rod kept a firm hold on little Geoff's hand, to make sure he didn't try to teleport away to join Magnus. Gwen watched with fond pride as Cordelia stared at the lock, and they heard the sound of the bolt sliding back. The door swung open.

They stepped into a scene out of "Sleeping Beauty." The third guardsman sat slumped in a chair, chin on chest, snoring. Beyond him, a half-open door showed a nanny in a rocker, dozing over her needlework. Rod stepped forward and pushed the door the rest of the way open. Elidor looked up from belting on his sword. His hair was tousled, and his eyes bleary from slumber, red and puffy; Rod had a notion he'd cried himself to sleep.

"Almost ready, Papa." Magnus picked up a cloak and held it out.

Elidor stepped over; Magnus dropped it over his shoulders.

"G.o.d save Your Majesty." Rod bowed. "I take it Magnus has informed you of our invitation?"

"Aye, and with right good heart do I accept! But why art thou willing to take me from mine uncle's halls?"

"Because my sons have taken a liking to you." You couldn't exactly tell a King that he triggered every paternal response you had. "If you're ready, we shouldn't linger."

"Ready I am!'.' The King clapped a hat on and headed for the door. Rod bowed him through, and waited as Magnus stepped through behind him.

He found Elidor staring at the snoring guard. "Magnus had told me of it," the boy whispered, "but I scarce could credit it."

"You're moving in magic circles." Rod gave him a firm nudge on the shoulder. "And if you don't keep moving, we'll wind up back where we started."

Elidor paced on forward, pausing for a bow to answer Gwen and Cordelia's curtseys. Rod took the opportunity to dodge on ahead.

Magnus stepped up beside him, as pilot, and they padded silently through dim, torch-lit halls. Whenever Magnus stopped and nodded to Cordelia, she skipped on ahead, singing, to engage whatever unsuspecting person happened to be walking the halls at this late hour, in conversation, until Magnus could knock them out. After the fifth guardsman, Rod noticed the man was twitching in his sleep. "Getting tired, son?"

Magnus nodded.

So did Rod. "I'll take over for a while."

Fortunately, there weren't too many more; the old-fashioned method is a little risky.

Elidor just followed along, his eyes getting wider and wider till they seemed to take up half his face.

Finally they crossed the outer bailey-it was really the only one; the castle had grown till it absorbed the inner. Rod's commando tactics couldn't do much about the sentries on the wall, so Magnus padded along, alert and ready; but the sentries were watching the outside, so they came to the main gatehouse without incident.

There they stopped, and Gwen gathered them into a huddle. "Here's a pretty problem," she whispered. "A sentry stands on each tower, a porter by the winch, and six guardsmen in the wardroom-and thou art wearied, my son."

Magnus was looking a little frayed around the edges. "I can still answer for two, Mama, mayhap three."

"That leaves six." Rod frowned. "What're they armed with, Gwen?"

Gwen gazed off into s.p.a.ce for a moment. "All bear pikes, save the Captain; he wears a sword."

"Could you and Cordelia bop them with their own pike-b.u.t.ts?"

"Aye, but they wear their helmets."

"So." Rod rubbed his chin. "The problem is, getting them to take off their helmets."

"Why, that can/ do!" Elidor declared, and marched off towards the guardroom before anyone could stop him.

Rod looked up after him, startled, glanced back at Gwen, then turned and sprinted after Elidor. What was the kid trying to do, blow the whole escape? But the boy moved fast, and he was hammering on the door before Rod could catch him. It swung open, and Rod ducked into the nearest shadow and froze. He could see through the open door, though, as Elidor marched in. The guardsmen scrambled to their feet. "Majesty!" The Captain inclined his head. "What dost thou abroad so late o' night?"

Elidor frowned. "I am thy King! Art thou so ill-bred as not to know the proper form of greeting? Uncover, knaves, and bow!"

Rod held his breath.

The soldiers glanced at the Captain, whose eyes were locked with Elidor's. But the boy-King held his chin high, glance not wavering an inch. Finally, the Captain nodded.

The guardsmen slowly removed their helmets and bowed.

Their pikes leaped to life, slamming down on the backs of their heads with the flats of their blades. They slumped to the floor with a clatter.

All except the Captain; he didn't have a pike near. He snapped upright, terror

filling his face as he stared at his men. Then the terror turned to rage.

Rod leaped forward.

"Why, what sorcery is this?" the Captain snarled, coming for Elidor and drawing his sword.

The boy stepped back, paling-and Rod shot through the door and slammed into the Captain. He went down with a clatter and a " whuff," the wind knocked out of him; but his sword writhed around, the point dancing in Rod's face. Rod yanked the sword to one side, rolling the man half-over, and dived in behind him, arm snaking around the Captain's throat. He caught the larynx in his elbow, and squeezed. The Captain kicked and struggled, but Rod had a knee in his back, so all he could do was thrash about.

But Elidor was loose. He darted over to pluck the Captain's helmet, yanked his dagger out, and clubbed down with all his strength, just the way he'd seen Rod do. The Captain heaved, and relaxed with a sigh.

Rod let go and scrambled out. "Well done, Your Majesty! You've got the makings of a King, all right."

"There's more to that than battle," the boy said, frowning.

"Yes, such as wisdom, and knowledge. But a lot of it's the ability to think fast, and the willingness to act, and you' ve got those. And style and courage-and you've just demonstrated those, too." Rod clapped him on the shoulder, and the boy seemed to visibly expand. "Come on, Your Majesty. I wouldn't say the rest of our party is dying to find out what happened, but they'll be vastly rea.s.sured to actually see us intact." He ushered the boy out the door.

"Six down and three to go," he whispered as they came up to Gwen and the

children in the alcove.

Gwen nodded. " 'Twas well thou followed Elidor. Well, if thou wilt hide thee near the porter, I think I can distract him for thee."

Rod set his palms against his b.u.t.tocks and leaned back, stretching. "Okay, but give me a minute. I'm beginning to feel it, too."

A few minutes later, he waited just outside the doorway leading to the giant windla.s.s that controlled the drawbridge. The porter paced the floor inside, humming to himself- trying to stay awake, probably.

Suddenly the rope that held the windla.s.s slipped loose, and the ratchet chattered as the great drum began to turn.

The porter shouted and leaped for the crank-handle.

Rod leaped for the porter, plucked off his helmet, and clubbed him.

A few minutes later, he rejoined Gwen. "All secure. I take it I should run back there and drop the bridge."

"Aye, and raise the portcullis. Yet attend a moment." She turned to Magnus.

"Son?"

Magnus was gazing off into s.p.a.ce. A few seconds later, he relaxed and turned to her. "The sentries on the towers are asleep."

Gwen nodded at Rod.

He sighed, and trudged back to the windla.s.s. Being a telepath must certainly save a lot of hiking.

The portcullis rose, the drawbridge fell, and Rod almost did, too. He straightened up, aching in every joint; it was getting to be a long day.

"My lord?" Gwen's head poked around the doorway. "Wilt thou join us?"

"Coming," he grumbled, and shuffled toward the doorway. How could she still look so fresh and cheery?

They went across the drawbridge, as fast as Geoffrey and Rod could manage. Fifty feet from the castle, Gwen stopped the party, and shooed them into the shadow of a big rock. She ducked her head around it, staring back at the castle. Curious, Rod peeked around the other side. * He saw the drawbridge slowly rise.

Startled, he darted a glance at Gwen. A wrinkle showed between her eyebrows; her lower lip was caught between her teeth. She was showing the strain-and so she should! That slab of wood had to weigh half a ton!

Cordelia was watching alertly, glancing from Gwen to the drawbridge and back. Finally, Gwen nodded, and Cordelia's face screwed up tight for a second. Then Gwen relaxed with a sigh. "Well done; thou hast indeed secured the winch. Now slip the ratchet on the portcullis, sweeting-yet not altogether; thou dost not wish it to come acrashing down."

Cordelia frowned darkly for a few minutes, staring at the castle; then Rod heard a muted, deep-toned clang. Cordelia looked up at her mother, and nodded. " Tis down."

"Well done." Gwen patted Cordelia's shoulder, and the little girl beamed. Mama turned to Magnus. "Now wake the sentries, that they may think they've only dozed, and that nothing is amiss."

Magnus gazed off into s.p.a.ce a moment-it was a long moment, for he was tiring -then looked up at Gwen and nodded.

"Well enough." Gwen nodded, satisfied. " 'Twill be at least an hour ere the others awake, and we'll be long gone; let them search." She turned to Rod. "Yet we had best lose no time."

"Agreed," Rod affirmed. "Make sure the sentries are looking the other way for a few minutes, will you? Otherwise, they can't help seeing us on this slope."

"Hmf." Gwen frowned. "I had forgot that. Well..." She held the frown for a few minutes, then nodded. "They think they hear voices calling, towards the north. Lose no time."

Rod nodded, and darted out across the slope, swinging Geoffrey up to his shoulders. The family followed. A hundred yards farther on and fifty feet lower, they stopped, panting, in the shade of a huge oak tree, sentinel for a crop of woodland.

"Whither away?" Gwen demanded.

Rod caught his breath and pointed southwest. "That way, toward the grove where we came in. After all that talk about the High Warlock's holdout in the northeast, they'll expect us to head for him. They won't think we've got any reason for going back."

"Have we?"

Rod shrugged. "Not that I know of-except that I don't like travelling in totally unfamiliar territory at night, especially when I'm on the run."

Gwen nodded. " Tis as wise a course as aught else. Follow Father, children."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

Father Al clung to the broomstick for dear life, knuckles white and forearms aching with the strain. At first, flight on so slender a craft had been a heady, delightful thing, almost like flying under his own power; but the sun had risen, and he'd happened to glance down. The world whizzed by below, treetops reaching up to snag at his robe. His stomach had turned over, then done its best to shinny up his backbone to safety. Since then, the ride had been a qualified nightmare. He just hoped the tears in his eyes were due only to the wind.

"Yon, "the girl called back to him, "ahead, andbelow!"