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He was tempted to turn his head to look to confirm this; but a certain
feeling of sympathy stopped him. The spearmen had already had it hard enough,
this day.
Farther out on the open Plain, the intruders were backing off from the lion-
there was something unlikely and probably unnatural about his progress, and
perhaps they sensed it. The QB was talking to the Originals still on
horseback, talking a way through for the three of them. There was a moment s
delay when they came to Gawain-then he, too, moved, giving Brian his place to
the right of Arthur, with the lion between the two of them. Arthur, himself,
wholly engaged in his current foe, did not even seem to notice.
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It was time for Jim to go. He swung out of his saddle, down onto his feet.
Dragon!-he thought.
He was suddenly his dragon self again.
The weasels, stoats, and other small rodents scattered from around him like
leaves caught by a whirlwind. The thunder of his wings as he took to the air
over shouted the battle sounds. For a moment, the fighting almost ceased as
men turned to stare at him.
It was just as well; for the lion, with Brian still on his right and the QB
falling back so as not to stand between the beast and Arthur, was now ignoring
the King as completely as he had ignored Jim. The QB had been right about his
catlike independence. His attitude seemed to be that there was no battle
anywhere near him, unless he chose to pay attention to it.
Meanwhile, Jim was some thirty feet up and finishing a wide circle around
those centered on Arthur, to end as he closed in to sail directly over
Arthur s head, headed forward in the same direction as Arthur himself and the
lion beside him were heading. By dint of slow and difficult wing work, he held
that position and moved only when Arthur moved.
The silence of the armed men on either side was profound. They did not move.
Then, slowly-but growing as it came-there rose a roar from the purely human
throats of the Knights of Lyonesse; rising to a note of savage triumph, as
they realized the symbolic meaning of both the living lion and the living
dragon, echoing their counterparts on Arthur s shield and crest. At almost the
same time, this registered on their opponents-who had also spent their
lifetimes reading coats of arms.
And Arthur, his white beard opening to show equally white teeth flashing in
the late rays of the descending sun-all in a fierce white smile of joy and
triumph, as of a battle already won-rose in his stirrups facing the enemy and
shouted, the view-halloo of the hunter who sees his quarry break from cover on
an all-out, last, desperate hope to escape.
The roar from the Knights kindled a fire of triumph inside Jim, himself, in
spite of his laboring wings and lungs. This was what he had hoped for. Not so
much the putting of a near-superstitious fear into their enemies, but the much
stronger heartening of the warriors of Lyonesse-and with the lion and his own
dragon-shape, it had been possible.
As long as they can go forward, none can overthrow them, the QB had said; and
it was true.
Now, the Originals were all on the attack, like men just arrived at the Plain
after a long night s deep rest and a solid breakfast; and Cumberland s men
were giving way, faster and faster, before them. On the field all was
confusion. The lion, having abandoned Brian finally, was strolling off the
field to one side, undisturbed by any of either side. But Brian himself had
vanished in the swirl of bodies, going forward with Arthur and his Knights.
The QB had vanished, or been lost to sight.
But from now on it scarcely mattered. The battle was over. The invaders were
throwing down their weapons and yielding to the Knights. These, intoxicated by
the battle and now the prospect of victory, were slaying them out of hand, as
the common practice of their time was.
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Arthur s helm was still visible above other heads at the point of the
advance, and when for a moment he lifted it high to survey the field, the
setting sun glanced on the upper part of his shield; and Jim glimpsed for a
moment the crowned lion on it, heart s-blood red in the late light.
Like a chasm opening before Gorp s feet in mid-jump, it hit Jim-
Red!
He was seeing the painted lion red in this black-and-white world.
He was seeing color, other than black and white-here, where to see it could
mean he would be unable to ever return home again. Never to be back with
Angie-and with Brian and Geronde never to be married after all...
Jim snatched off the glasses. He had become so used to wearing them he had
forgotten he had them on; and with his own, ordinary perfectly good 20-20
vision, he looked again at what showed of Arthur s shield. A great breath went
out of him. With the glasses off he saw no colors at all. He and Brian were
not trapped here- just yet, at least.
Nonetheless, he had been given his warning by the magic glasses-bless them.
Color visible to his naked eyes could not be far off for him, or Brian. Dafydd
had actually been in Lyonesse much less time than they had. Bless Angie, too,
for suggesting the spectacles; and thank heaven he had not refused to wear
them in spite of feeling they were both unnecessary and ridiculous.
They were neither. But he must find Brian-fast.
Even as he had been thinking these things, he had been peering into the swarm
of metal-clad bodies still hewing at each other, trying to find the familiar
armored figure, with no success. The Lyonesse Knights and their foes had
become mixed as most of Cumberland s warriors began to yield; and only a
determined few invaders facing the group around Arthur continued to
fight-something that at this moment seemed to please the Originals much more
than their foes yielding. It had even reached the point where single Originals
were reacting angrily against anyone from their own side who offered to help
any of them against his personal foe.
But now, all at once, there was no Brian to be seen. Jim felt a sudden
emptiness. Could Brian have been caught by the gray mist wedge after all?
Could the unbelievable have happened, and he was lying still, face down and
therefore all but impossible to pick out from among the other armored bodies
lying so on the Plain?
Jim pushed the thought from him. He would not believe that until he had to.
He had still not properly searched among the living. He swung about in midair
to fly once more in front of Arthur and try to find Brian that way. As he came
around to where he could face back at the King, he hastily took off his magic
glasses for a second quick look at the lion on the King s shield. It was the
same colorless shape he had seen without the glasses a moment before. His
testing now was the same sort of impulse that pushes the tongue to reach out
one more time to the sore tooth in a mouth.
He kept the glasses on. If other things started showing color... the more
warning the better. He headed toward the melee and Arthur. The King, he saw,
was still active, still slashing enemies from their saddles, even though he
might have slowed a trifle more. Either the bravest of the enemy were still
concentrating on trying to meet him; or else those fighting him now were
playing with the possible reflected glory of having at least crossed swords
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with him briefly before yielding.
Perhaps the less he saw of color in Lyonesse, the longer he could put off
being captured by it. Also, if he was not yet captured, then Brian, with no
magic glasses, should also still be safe.
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