teething and middle ear infection

teething and middle ear infection

a knyght ther was by robert f. young a knyght ther was, and that a worthy man,that fro the tyme that he first bigan to ryden out, he loved c... Februari 01, 2017

a knyght ther was by robert f. young a knyght ther was, and that a worthy man,that fro the tyme that he first bigan to ryden out, he loved chivalrye, trouthe and honour,fredom and curteisye —the canterbury tales section i mallory, who among other things was a time-thief,re-materialized the time-space boat yore in the eastern section of a secluded valley inancient britain and typed castle, early sixth-century on the lumillusion panel. then he steppedover to the control-room telewindow and studied the three-dimensional screen. the hour was8:00 p.m.; the season, summer; the year 542

a.d. darkness was on hand, but there was a fullmoon rising and he could see trees not far away—oaks and beeches, mostly. roving theeye of the camera, he saw more trees of the same species. the "castle of yore" was safelyensconced in a forest. satisfied, he turned away. if his calculations were correct, the castleof carbonek stood in the next valley to the south, and on a silver table in a chamberof the castle stood the object of his quest. if his calculations were correct. mallory was not one to keep himself in suspense.stepping into the supply room, he stripped

down to his undergarments and proceeded toget into the custom-built suit of armor which he had purchased expressly for the operation.fortunately, while duplication of early sixth-century design had been mandatory, there had beenno need to duplicate early sixth-century materials, and sollerets, spurs, greaves, cuisses, breastplate,pauldrons, gorget, arm-coverings, gauntlets, helmet, and chain-mail vest had all been fashionedof light-weight alloys that lent ten times as much protection at ten times less poundage.the helmet was his particular pride and joy: in keeping with the period-piece after whichit had been patterned, it looked like an upside-down metal wastepaper basket, but the one-way transparencyof the special alloy that had gone into its construction gave him unrestricted vision,while two inbuilt audio-amplifiers performed

a corresponding service for his hearing. the outer surface of each piece had been burnishedto a high degree, and he found himself a dazzling sight indeed when he looked into the supply-roommirror. this effect was enhanced no end when he buckled on his chrome-plated scabbard andred-hilted sword and hung his snow-white shield around his neck. his polished spear, whenhe stood it beside him, was almost anticlimactic. it shouldn't have been. it was a good threeand one-half inches in diameter at the base, and it was as tall as a young flagpole. as he stood there looking at his reflection,the red cross in the center of the shield took on the hue of freshly-shed blood. theperiod-piece expert who had designed the shield

had insisted on the illusion, saying thatit made for greater authenticity, and mallory hadn't argued with him. he was glad now thathe hadn't. raising the visor of his helmet, he winked at himself and said, "i hereby christenye 'sir galahad'." next, he bethought himself of his steed. armorclanking, he left the supply room and walked down the short passage to the rec-hall. therec-hall occupied the entire forward section of the tsb and had been designed solely forthe benefit of the time-tourists whom mallory regularly conducted on past-tours as a cover-upfor the illegal activities which he pursued in between trips. in the present instance,however, the hall went quite well with the yore's lumillusioned exterior, possessing,with its gallery-like mezzanine, its long

snack table, and its imitation flagstone flooring,an early sixth-century aspect of its own—an aspect marred only slightly by the "anachronistic"telewindows inset at regular intervals along the walls. mallory's steed stood in a stall-like enclosurethat was formed by the tourist-bar and one of the walls, and it was a splendid "beast"indeed—as splendid a one as the twenty-second century robotics industry was capable of creating.originally, mallory had planned on bringing a real horse with him, but as this would havenecessitated his having to learn how to ride, he had decided against it. the decision hadbeen a wise one: "easy money" looked more like a horse than most real horses did, couldtravel twice as fast, and was as easy to ride

and to maneuver as a golp jetney. it was light-brownin color with a white diamond on its forehead, it was equipped with a secret croup-compartmentand an inbuilt saddle, and its fetlock-length trappings were made of genuine synthisilkthreaded with gold. it wore no armor—it did not need to: weapons manufactured duringthe age of chivalry could no more penetrate its "hide" than a tooth pick could. come on, easy money, mallory encephalopathed.you and i have a little job to do. the rohorse emitted several realistic whinnies,backed out of its "stall", trotted smartly over to his side, and nuzzled his right pauldron.mallory mounted—not gracefully, it is true, but at least without the aid of the winchhe would have needed if his armor had been

manufactured in the sixth century—and insertedthe red pommel of his spear in the stirrup socket. then, activating the yore's lock,he rode across the imaginary drawbridge that spanned the mirage-moat, and set forth intothe forest. as the "portcullis" closed behind him, symbolically bringing phase one of operationsangraal to a close, he thought of jason perfidion. standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling,wall-to-wall fireplace in the big balconied room, perfidion said, "mallory, you're wastingyour time. worse, you're wasting mine." the room climaxed a vertical series of slightlyless sumptuous chambers known collectively as the perfidion tower, and the perfidiontower stood with a score of balconied brothers on a blacktop island in the exact center ofkansas' largest golp course. a short distance

from the fraternal gathering stood yet anothertower—the false tower into which mallory had lumillusioned his tsb upon his arrival.on the golp terrace, as the blacktop island was called, everyone and everything conformed—orelse. the room itself was known to time-thievesas "perfidion's lair". and yet there was nothing about jason perfidion—nothing physical,that is—that suggested the predator. he was mallory's age—thirty-three—tall, darkof hair, and strikingly handsome. he looked like—and was—a highly successful businessmanwith a triplex on get-rich-quick street, and he gave the impression that he was as honestas the day was long. just the same, the predator was there, and if you were alert enough youcould sometimes glimpse it peering out through

the smoky windowpanes of his eyes. it wasn't peering out now, though. it wassleeping. however, it was due to wake up any second. "then you're not interested in fencingthe holy grail?" mallory asked. annoyance intensified the slight swarthinessof perfidion's cheeks. "mallory, you know as well as i do that the grail never reallyexisted, that it was nothing more than the mead-inspired daydream of a bunch of quixoticknights. so go and get your hair cut and forget about it." "but suppose it did exist," mallory insisted."suppose, tomorrow afternoon at this time, i were to come in here and set it down onthis desk here? how much could you get for

it?" perfidion laughed. "how much couldn't i getfor it! why, without even stopping to think i can name you a dozen collectors who'd givetheir right arm for it." "i'm not interested in right arms," mallorysaid. "i'm interested in dollars. how many kennedees could you get for it?" "a megamillion—maybe more. more than enough,certainly, to permit you to retire from time-lifting and to take up residence on get-rich-quickstreet. but it doesn't exist, and it never did, so get out of here, mallory, and stopsquandering my valuable time." mallory withdrew a small stereophoto fromhis breast pocket and tossed it on the desk.

"have a look at that first—then i'll go,"he said. perfidion picked up the photo. "an ordinaryenough yellow bowl," he began, and stopped. suddenly he gasped, and jabbed one of themany buttons that patterned his desktop. seconds later, a svelte blonde whom mallory had neverseen before stepped out of the lift tube. like most general-purpose secretaries, shewore a maximum of makeup and a minimum of clothing, and moved in an aura of efficiencyand sex. "get me my photo-projector, miss tyler," perfidion said. when she returned with it, he set it on hisdesk and inserted the stereophoto. instantly, a huge cube materialized in the center ofthe room. inside the cube there was a realistic

image of a resplendent silver table, and uponthe image of the table stood an equally realistic image of a resplendent golden bowl. perfidiongasped again. "unusual workmanship, wouldn't you say?" mallorysaid. perfidion turned toward the blonde. "you maygo, miss tyler." she was staring at the contents of the cubeand apparently did not hear him. "i said," he repeated, "that you may go, miss tyler." "oh. yes ... yes sir." when the lift-tube door closed behind her,perfidion turned to mallory. for a fraction of a second the predator was visible behindthe smoky windowpanes of his eyes; then, quickly,

it ducked out of sight. "where was this taken,tom?" "it's a distance-shot," mallory said. "i tookit through one of the windows of the church joseph of arimathea built in glastonbury." "but how did you know—" "that it was there? because it had to be there.some time ago, while escorting a group of tourists around ancient britain, i happenedto witness joseph of arimathea's landing—and happened to catch a glimpse of what he broughtwith him. i used to think that the grail was a pipe dream, too, but when i saw it withmy own eyes, i knew that it couldn't have been. however, i knew i'd need evidence toconvince you, so i jumped back to a later

place-time and got a shot of it." "but why a shot, tom? why didn't you liftit then and there?" "you concede that it is the grail then?" "of course it's the grail—there's not theslightest question about it. why didn't you lift it?" "well, for one thing, i wanted to make surethat lifting it would be worth my while, and for another, glastonbury wasn't the logicalplace-time from which to lift it, because, assuming that the rest of the legend is alsotrue, it was seen after that place-time. no time-thief ever bucked destiny yet and cameout the winner, jason; i play my percentages."

"i know you do, tom. you're one of the besttime-lift men in the business, and the past police would be the first to admit it....i daresay you've already pinpointed the key place-time?" mallory grinned, showing his white teeth."i certainly have, but if you think i'm going to divulge it, you're sadly mistaken, jason.and stop looking at my hair—it won't tell you anything beyond the fact that i've beenusing hair-haste. shoulder-length hair was the rage in more eras than one." perfidion smiled warmly, and clapped malloryon the back. "i'm not trying to ferret out your secret, tom. i know better than that.lifting is your line, fencing mine. you bring

me the grail, i'll sell it, take my cut, andeverything will be fine. you know me, tom." "i sure do," mallory said, taking the stereophotoout of the projector and returning it to his breast pocket. perfidion snapped his fingers. "a happy thoughtjust occurred to me! i've got a golp date with rowley of puriproducts, so why don'tyou join us, tom? you play a pretty good game, as i recall." mollified, mallory said, "i'll have to borrowa set of your jetsticks." "i'll get them for you on the way down. comeon, tom." mallory accompanied him across the room. "keepmum about this to rowley now," perfidion said

confidentially. "he's a potential customer,but we don't want to let the cat out of the bag yet, do we? or should i say 'the grail'."he took time out to grin at his little joke, then, "by the way, tom, i take it you're allset as regards costume, equipment and the like." "i've got the sweetest little suit of armoryou ever laid eyes on," mallory said. "fine—no need for me to offer any advicein that respect then." perfidion opened the lift door. "after you, tom." they plummeted down the tube together. it had been a good game of golp—from mallory'sstandpoint, anyway. he had trounced rowley

roundly, and he would have inflicted similarignominy upon perfidion had not the latter been called away in the middle of the gameand been unable to return till it was nearly over. oh well, mallory thought, encephalo-guidinghis rohorse through the ancient forest, there'll be other chances. aloud, he said, "step livelynow, easy money, and let's get this caper over with so we can return to civilizationand start feeling what it's like to be rich." in response to the encephalo-waves that hadaccompanied his words, easy money increased its pace, the infra-red rays of its eye unitsillumining its way. in places, light from the rising moon seeped through the foliage,but otherwise darkness was the rule. the air was cool and damp—the sea was not far distant—andthe sound of frogs and insects was omnipresent

and now and then there was the rustling soundof some small and fleeing forest creature. presently the ground began to rise, and notlong afterward the trees thinned out temporarily and rohorse and rider emerged on the moonlitcrest of the ridge that separated the two valleys. in the distance mallory made outthe moon-gilt towers and turrets of a large castle, and knew it to be carbonek beyonda doubt. he sighed with relief. he was all set now—provided his masquerade went over.conversely, if it didn't go over he was finished: his sword and his spear were his only weapons,and his shield and his armor, his only protection. true, each article was superior in qualityand durability to its corresponding article in the age of chivalry, but otherwise noneof them was anything more than what it seemed.

mallory might be a time-thief; but withinthe framework of his profession he believed in playing fair. in response to his encephalopathed directions,easy money picked its way down the slope of the ridge and re-entered the forest. not longafterward it stepped onto what was euphemistically referred to in that day and age as a "highway"but which in reality was little more than a wide, hoof-trampled lane. as mallory's entireplan of action was based on boldness, he spurned the shadows of the bordering oaks and beechesand encephalopathed the rohorse to keep to the center of the lane. he met no one, however,despite the earliness of the hour, nor had he really expected to. it was highly improbablethat any freemen would be abroad after dark,

and as for the knight-errants who happenedto be in the neighborhood, it was highly improbable that any of them would be abroad after darkeither. he grinned. to read le morte d'arthur, you'dthink that the chivalry boys had been in business twenty-four hours a day, slaying ogres, rescuingfair damosels, and searching for the sangraal; but not if you read between the lines. malloryhad read "arthur" only cursorily, but he had had a hunch all along that in the majorityof cases the quest for the sangraal had served as an out, and that the knights of the tableround had spent more time wenching and wassailing than they had conducting their so-called dedicatedsearch, and the hunch had played an important role in the shaping of his strategy.

the highway turned this way and that, neverpursuing a straight course unless such a logical procedure was unavoidable. once, he thoughthe heard hoofbeats up ahead, but he met no one, and not long afterward he saw the palepile of carbonek looming above the trees to his left, and encephalo-guided easy moneyinto the lane that led to the entrance. there was no moat, but the portcullis was an imposingone. flanking it on either side was a huge stone lion, and framing it were flaming torchesin regularly-spaced niches. warders in hauberk and helmet looked down from the lofty wall,their halberds gleaming in the dancing torchlight. mallory swallowed: the moment of truth hadarrived. he halted easy money and canted his whiteshield so that the red cross in its center

would be visible from above. then he marshalledhis smattering of old english. "i hight sir galahad of the table round," he called outin as bold a voice as he could muster. "i would rest my eyes upon the sangraal." instantly, confusion reigned upon the wallas the warders vied with one another for the privilege of operating the cumbersome windlassthat raised and lowered the portcullis, and presently, to the accompaniment of a chorusof creaks and groans and scrapings, the ponderous iron grating began to rise. mallory forcedhimself to wait until it had risen to a height befitting a knight of sir galahad's caliber,then he rode through the gateway and into the courtyard, congratulating himself on theeffectiveness of his impersonation.

"ye will come unto the chamber of the sangraalsixty paces down the corridor to thy left eftsoon ye enter the chief fortress, sir knight,"one of the warders called down. "an ye had arrived a little while afore, ye had encounteredsir launcelot du lake, the which did come unto the fortress and enter in, wherefromhe came out anon and departed." mallory would have wiped his forehead if hisforehead had been accessible and if his hands had not been encased in metal gloves. foolingthe warders was one thing, but passing himself off as sir galahad to the man who was sirgalahad's father would have been quite another. he had learned from the pages of his near-namesake's"arthur" that sir launcelot had visited carbonek before sir galahad had, but the pages hadnot revealed whether the time-lapse had involved

minutes, hours, or years, and for that matter,mallory wasn't altogether certain whether the second visit they described had been thereal sir galahad's, which meant failure, or a romanticized version of his own, which meantsuccess. his near-namesake was murky at best, and reading him you were never sure whereanybody was, or when any given event was taking place. the courtyard was empty, and after crossingit, mallory dismounted, encephalopathed easy money to stay put, and climbed the seriesof stone steps that led to the castle proper. entering the building unchallenged, he foundhimself at the junction of three corridors. the main one stretched straight ahead anddebouched into a large hall. the other two

led off at right angles, one to the left andone to the right. boisterous laughter emanated from the hall, and he could see knights andother nobles sitting at a long banquet table. scattered among them were gentlewomen in richsilks, and hovering behind them were servants bearing large demijohns. he grinned. justas he had figured—king pelles was throwing a whingding. quickly, mallory turned down the left-handcorridor and started along it, counting his footsteps. rushes rustled beneath his feet,and the flickering light of wall-torches gave him a series of grotesque shadows. he sawno one: all the servants were in the banquet hall, pouring wine and mead. he laughed aloud.

forty-eight paces sufficed to see him to thechamber door. it was a perfectly ordinary door. opening it, he thought at first thatthe room beyond was ordinary, too. then he saw the burning candles arranged along thewalls, and beneath them, standing in the center of the floor, the table of silver. the tableof the sangraal.... there was no sangraal on the table, however.there was no sangraal in the room, for that matter. there was a girl, though. she washuddled forlornly in a corner, and she was crying. section ii mallory laid his spear aside, strode acrossthe room, and raised the girl to her feet.

"the sangraal," he said, forgetting in hisagitation the few odds and ends of old english he had memorized. "where is it!" she raised startled eyes that were as round,and almost as large, as plums. her face was round, too, and faintly childlike. her hairwas dark-brown, and done up in a strange and indeterminate coiffeur that was as charmingas it was disconcerting. her ankle-length dress was white, and there was a bow on thebodice that matched the plum-blueness of her eyes. a few cosmetics, properly applied, wouldhave turned her into an attractive woman, and even without them, she rated a secondlook. she stared at him for some time, then, "surelyye be an advision, sir," she said. "i ... i

know ye not." mallory swung his shield around so that shecould see the red cross. "now do you know me?" she gasped, and her eyes grew even rounder."sir ... sir galahad! oh, fair knight, wherefore did ye not say?" mallory ignored the question. "the sangraal,"he repeated. "where is it?" her tears had ceased temporarily; now theybegan again. "oh, fair sir!" she cried, "ye see tofore you, a damosel at mischief, thewhich was given guardianship of the holy vessel at her own request, and bewrayed her trust,a damosel—"

"never mind all that," mallory said. "where'sthe sangraal?" "i wot not, fair sir." "but you must know if you were guarding it!" "i wot not whither it was taken." "but you must wot who took it." "wot i well, fair knight. sir launcelot, thewhich is thy father, bare it from the chamber." mallory was stunned. "but that's impossible!my fa—sir launcelot wouldn't steal the sangraal!" "well i wot, fair sir; yet steal it he did.came he unto the chamber and saith, i hight sir launcelot du lake of the table round,whereat i did see his armor to be none other;

so then took he the vessel covered with thered samite and bare it with him from the chamber, whereat i—" "how long ago?" "but a little while afore eight of the clock.sithen i have wept. i know now no good knight, nor no good man. and i know from thy holyshield and from they good name that thou art a good knight, and i beseech ye thereforeto help me, for ye be a shining knight indeed, wherefore ye ought not to fail no damoselwhich is in distress, and she besought you of help." mallory only half heard her. sir launcelotwas too much with him. it was inconceivable

that a knight of such noble principles wouldeven consider touching the sangraal, to say nothing of making off with it. maybe, though,his principles hadn't been quite as noble as they had been made out to be. he had beenqueen guinevere's paramour, hadn't he? he had lain with the fair elaine, hadn't he?when you came right down to it, he could very well have been a scoundrel at heart all along—ascoundrel whose true nature had been toned down by writers like malory and poets liketennyson. all of which, while it strongly suggested that he was capable of stealingthe sangraal, threw not the slightest light on his reason for having done so. mallorywas right back where he had started from. he turned to the girl. "you said somethingabout needing my help. what do you want me

to do?" instantly, her tears stopped and she claspedher hands together and looked at him with worshipful eyes. "oh, fair sir, ye be mostkind indeed! well i wot from thy shining armor that ye—" "knock it off," mallory said. "knock it off? i wot not what—" "never mind. just tell me what you want meto do." "ye must bear me from the castle, fair sir,or the king learns i have bewrayed my trust and wreaks his wrath upon me. and then yemust help me regain the holy cup and return

it to this chamber." "we'll worry about getting the cup back afterwe're beyond the walls," mallory said, starting for the door. "come on—they're all in thebanquet hall and as drunk as lords—they won't even see us go by." she hung back. "but the warders, fair sir—theybe not enchafed. and king pelles, by my own wish, did forbid them to pass me." mallory stared at her. "by your own wish!well of all the crazy—" abruptly he dropped the subject. "all right then—how do we getout of here?" "there lieth beneath the fortress and theforest a parlous passage wherein dwells the

fiend, the which i have much discomfit of.but with ye aside me, fair knight, there is naught to fear." mallory had read enough malory to be ableto take sixth-century fiends in his stride. "i'll have to take my horse along," he said."is there room for it to pass?" "yea, fair sir. the tale saith that aforetimemany knights did ride out beneath the fortress and the forest and did smite the saxons, saracens,and pagans, the which did compass the castle about, from behind, whereupon the battle waswon." mallory stepped outside the chamber, the girljust behind him, and encephalopathed the necessary directions. after a moment, easy money cametrotting down the corridor to his side. the

girl gasped, and, to his astonishment, threwher arms around the rohorse's neck. "he is a noble steed indeed, fair sir," she said;"and worthy of a knight fitting to sit in the siege perilous." presently she steppedback, frowning. "he ... he is most cold, fair sir." "all horses of that breed are," mallory explained."incidentally, his name is 'easy money'." "la! such a strange name." "not so strange." mallory raised his visor,making a mental note to see to it that any and all suits of armor he might buy in thefuture were air-conditioned. he got his spear. "let's be on our way, shall we?"

"ye ... ye have blue eyes, fair sir." "never mind the color of my eyes—let's getout of here." she seemed to make up her mind about something."an ye will follow me, sir knight," she said, and started down the corridor. a ramp, the entrance of which was camouflagedby a rotating section of the inner castle wall, gave access to the subterranean passage.the passage itself, in the flickering light of the torch that the girl had brought along,appeared at first to be nothing more than a natural cave enlarged through the centuriesby the stream that still flowed down its center. presently, however, mallory saw that in certainplaces the stone walls had been cut back in

such a way that the space on either side ofthe stream never narrowed to a width of less than four feet. he saw other evidence of humanhandiwork too—dungeons. they were little more than shallow caves now, though, theiriron gratings having rusted and fallen away. after proceeding half a hundred yards, hepaused. "i don't know what we're walking for when we've got a perfectly good horse at ourdisposal," he told the girl. "come on, i'll help you into the saddle and i'll jump onbehind." she shook her head. "no, fair knight, it isnot fitting for a gentlewoman to ride tofore her champion. ye will mount, and i will ridebehind." "suit yourself," mallory said. he climbedinto the saddle with a clank and a clatter,

and helped her up on easy money's croup. "bythe way, you never did tell me your name." "i hight the damosel rowena." "pleased to meet you," mallory said. giddy-ap,easy money, he encephalopathed. they rode in silence for a little while, thelight from rowena's torch dancing acappella rigadoons on bare walls and dripping ceilings,easy money's hoofbeats hardly audible above the purling of the stream. presently rowenasaid, "it were best that ye drew out thy sword, fair sir, for anon the fiend will beset us." "he hasn't beset us yet," mallory pointedout. "la! fair sir, he will."

he saw no harm in humoring her, and did asshe had suggested. "you mentioned something a while back about having been given guardianshipof the sangraal at your own request," he said. "how did that come about?" "list, fair sir, and i will tell ye. but firsti must tell ye of sir bors de ganis, of which sir lionel is brother. it happed one day thatsir bors did ride into a forest in the kingdom of mennes unto the hour of midday, and therebefell him a marvelous adventure. so he met at the departing of the two ways two knightsthat led lionel, his brother, all naked, bounden upon a strong hackney, and his hands boundentofore his breast. and every each of them held in his hands thorns wherewith they wentbeating him so sore that the blood trailed

down more than in an hundred places of hisbody, so that he was all blood tofore and behind, but he said never a word; as he whichwas great of heart he suffered all that ever they did to him as though he had felt noneanguish. "anon sir bors dressed him to rescue him thatwas his brother; and so he looked upon the other side of him, and saw a knight whichbrought a fair gentlewoman, and would have set her in the thickest place of the forestfor to have been the more surer out of the way from them that sought him. and she whichwas nothing assured cried with a high voice: 'saint mary succor your maid.' and anon sheespied where sir bors came riding. and when she came nigh him she deemed him a knightof the round table, whereof she hoped to have

some comfort; and then she conjured him: bythe faith that he ought unto him in whose service thou art entered in, and for the faithye owe unto the high order of knighthood, and for the noble king arthur's sake, thati suppose that made thee knight, that thou help me, and suffer me not to be shamed ofthis knight. when—" "just a minute," mallory interrupted, thoroughlybewildered and simultaneously afflicted with an irrational sense of deja vu. "this gentlewomanyou speak of—would she by any chance be you?" "wit ye well, fair sir. when—" "but if she's you, why don't you use the firstperson singular instead of the third?"

"i wot not what—" "why don't you use 'i' instead of 'she' whenyou refer to yourself directly?" "it would not be fitting, fair knight. whenbors heard her say thus he had so much sorrow there he nyst not what to do. for if i letmy brother be in adventure he must be slain, and that would i not for all the earth. andif i help not the maid she is shamed for ever, and also she shall lose her virginity thewhich she shall never get again. then lift he up his eyes and said weeping: fair sweetlord, whose liege man i am, keep lionel, my brother, that these knights slay him not,and for pity of you, and for mary's sake, i shall succor this maid. then dressed hehim unto the knight the which had the gentlewoman,

and then—" "hist!" mallory whispered. "i heard something." for a moment the light flared wildly as thoughshe had nearly dropped the torch. "wh ... whence came the sound, fair knight?" "from the other side of the stream." he peeredinto the vacillating shadows, but saw nothing but the darker shadows of one of the innumerableman-made caves. the sound he had heard had brought to mind the dull clang that metalmakes when it collides with stone, and it had been so faint as to have been barely audibleabove the purling of the stream. thinking back, he was not altogether certain that hehad heard it at all. "my imagination's getting

the best of me, i guess," he said presently."there's no one there." her warm breath penetrated the crevices ofhis gorget and fanned the back of his neck. "ye ... ye ween not that it could have beenthe fiend prowling?" "of course i ween not! relax, and finish yourstory. but get to the point, will you?" "an ... an it so please.... and then sir borscried: sir knight, let your hand off that maiden, or ye be but dead. and then he setdown the maiden, and was armed at all pieces save he lacked his spear. then he dressedhis shield, and drew out his sword, and bors smote him so hard that it went through hisshield and habergeon on the left shoulder. and through great strength he beat him downto the earth, and at the pulling out of bors'

spear there he swooned. then came bors tothe maid and said: how seemeth it to you of this knight ye be delivered at this time?now sir, said she, i pray you lead me there as this knight had me. so shall i do gladly:and took the horse of the wounded knight, and set the gentlewoman upon him, and so broughther as she desired. sir knight, said she, ye have better sped than ye weened, for ani had lost my maidenhead, five hundred men should have died for it. what knight was hethat had you in the forest? by my faith, said she, he is my cousin. so wot i never withwhat engyn the fiend enchafed him, for yesterday he took me from my father privily; for i nornone of my father's men mistrusted him not, and if he had had my maidenhead he shouldhave died for the sin, and his body shamed

and dishonored for ever. thus as—" "shhh!" this time, mallory was certain that he hadheard something. the sound had had much in common with the previous sound, except thatit had suggested metal scraping against, rather than colliding with, stone. directly acrossthe stream was another cave, this one shallow enough to permit the torchlight to penetrateits deeper shadows, and looking into those shadows, he caught a faint gleam of reflectedlight. rowena must have caught it, too, for he heardher gasp behind him. "it were best that i thanked ye now for thy great kindness, fairknight," she said, "for anon we be no longer

on live." "nonsense!" mallory said. "if this fiend ofyours is anywhere in the vicinity, he's probably more afraid of us than we are of him." the cave was behind them now. "per ... peradventurehe hath already had meat," rowena said hopefully. "the tale saith that and the fiend be filled,he becomes aweary and besets not them the which do pass him by in peace." "i'll keep my sword handy, just in case hechanges his mind," mallory said. "meanwhile, get on with your autobiography—only forpete's sake, cut it short, will you?" "an it please, fair sir. thus as the fairgentlewoman stood talking with sir bors there

came twelve knights seeking after her, andanon she told them all how bors had delivered her; then they made great joy, and besoughthim to come to her father, a great lord, and he should be right welcome. truly, said bors,that may not be at this time, for i have a great adventure to do in this country. sohe commended them unto god and departed. the fair gentlewoman did grieve mickle to seehim leave, and she saith, sir knights, noble was the service that brave knight did renderunto thy liege's daughter in the saving of her maidenhead the which she could never getagain, for that be none other than his own brother the which he fauted. therefore, noblemust be both his king and his cause, wherefore it be befitting that a gentlewoman of thyliege's daughter's nature leave the castle

of her father betimes that she may renderfitting service to her succor's cause and be worthy of his deed. thus spake this fairgentlewoman, whereat she did mount upon her palfrey and so departed her from thence anddid ride as fast as her palfrey might bear her, whereupon after many days she came tothe castle of carbonek and did seek out king pelles and did beseech him that she mightbe made guardian of the sangraal, whereat he did graciously consent to her request anddid consent also that she be made prisoner in the fortress by her own wish. and now shewas bewrayed her trust, fair sir, and the table of silver whereon the sangraal stoodstands empty." for some time after she finished talking,mallory was silent. was she trying to pull

his leg? he wondered. or were the gentlewomenof her day and age really as high-minded and as feathered-brained as she would have himbelieve? he decided not to go into the matter for the moment. "tell me, rowena," he said,"if the sangraal is visible only to those who are worthy of it, as i have been led tobelieve, how are any of those wassailers whooping it up back there in that banquet hall goingto know whether it's gone or not?" "it be ofttimes averred that all cannot seethe holy cup, as ye say, fair knight. natheless, all that have come unto the chamber sithenmy trust began, they did see it, and sir launcelot, the which is much with sin, he did see it—anddid take it." "he's not going to get very far with it, though,"mallory said. and then, "how long is the tunnel

anyway?" "anon we shall see the stars, fair sir." she was right, and a few minutes later, afterrounding a turn in the passage, they emerged upon the bank of a small river. the subterraneanstream that had kept them company emerged, too, and joined its larger sister on the wayto the sea. on either hand, cliffs rose up, and the susurrus of waves breaking on sandcould be heard in the distance. mallory guided easy money upstream to wherethe cliffs dwindled down to thickly forested slopes. it took him but a moment to orientatehimself, and presently rohorse and riders were headed in the direction of the highway."now," said he, "if you'll tell me where you

want to be dropped off, i'll see what i cando about getting the grail back." there was a brief silence. then, "an ... anye wish, ye may leave me here." he halted easy money, dismounted, and liftedher down to the ground. he looked around, expecting to see a habitation of some sort.he saw nothing but trees. he faced the girl again. "don't you have any friends or relativesyou can stay with?" an argent shaft of moonlight slanting downthrough the foliage illumined her face. "there be none nigh, fair sir, nor none nearer thanan hundred miles. i shall abide your again coming here in the forest." mallory stared at her. she didn't look—oract either, for that matter—as though she

knew enough to get in out of the rain. "abidehere in the forest! why, you wouldn't last a week!" "but ye will return hither with the sangraallong afore that, whereupon we two together shall return the holy vessel to the chamberand i shall not be made to suffer the severing of my two hands." he was aghast. "they wouldn't dare cut offyour hands!" "they dare much, fair knight. know ye naughtof the customs of the land?" he was silent. what in the world was he goingto do about her? she would probably wait here for him until she starved to death or, equallyas distressing, until she was apprehended.

abruptly he shrugged his shoulders—to theextent that his pauldrons permitted—and remounted the rohorse. why should it matterto him what became of her? he'd returned to the age of chivalry to steal the sangraal,not to play nursemaid to damosels in distress. "don't take any wooden nickels now," he said. two tiny stars appeared in the pale regionsof her eyes and twinkled down her cheeks. "may the good lord speed ye upon thy quest,fair knight, and may he guard ye well." "oh, for pete's sake!" mallory said, and reachingdown, pulled her up onto easy money's croup. "i have a castle not far from here. i'll dropyou off, then i'll go after the sangraal." her breath was warm little wind seeping throughthe crevices of his gorget. "oh, fair sir,

ye be the noblest of all the knights in allthe land, and i shall serve thee faithfully for the rest of my days!" the rohorse whinnied. giddy-ap, easy money,mallory encephalopathed, and they started out. section iii rowena fell for the yore hook, line, and sinker.not even the modern interior gave her pause. those objects which happened to be beyondher ken—and there were many of them—she interpreted as "appointments befitting a nobleknight," and as for the rooms themselves, she merely identified them with the roomsout of her own experience that they most closely

resembled. thus the rec-hall became "the banquethall," the supply room became "the kitchen," the control room became "the sorcerer's tower,"the tourist compartments became "the sleeping tower," mallory's bedroom-office became "thelord's quarters," the lavatory became "the chapel," and the generator room became "thedungeon." only two things disconcerted her: the absence of servants and the fact thateasy money was stabled in the banquet hall. mallory got around the first by telling herthat he had given the servants a leave of absence, and she herself got around the secondby declaring it to be no more than fitting for such a splendid steed to be accorded specialtreatment. certainly, mallory reflected, she was nothing if she was not co-operative.

after showing her around he wasted no timein getting down to the business on hand, and stepping into the control room, he punchedout the data necessary to take the yore back to 7:15 p.m. of the same day, and to re-materializeit one half mile west of its present position, as an overlap was bound to occur. there wasa barely noticeable tremor as the transition took place, and simultaneously the darknessshowing on the control-room telewindow transmuted to dusk. turning away from the jump board, he saw rowenaregarding him with large eyes from the doorway. "we're now back to a point in time that precedesthe theft of the sangraal," he told her, "and we're relocated farther down the valley. butdon't let it throw you. none other than merlin

himself built the magic apparatus you seebefore you in this room, and you know yourself that once he makes up his mind to it, merlincan do anything." she blinked once, but evinced no other signsof surprise. "yea, fair sir," she said, "i am ware of the magic of merlin." "however," mallory went on, "magic such asthis isn't something for a gentlewoman such as yourself to fool around with, so i mustforbid you to enter this room during my absence from the castle. also, while we're on thesubject, i must also forbid you to leave the castle during my absence. merlin would beupset no end if there were two damosels that hight rowena gallivanting around the countrysideat the same time."

she blinked again. "by my troth, fair sir,"she said, "i would lever die than disobey thy two commands." and then, "have ye ateany meat late?" this time, mallory blinked, "meat?" "it is fitting that ye should eat meat aforeye ride out." "oh, you mean food. i'll eat when i get back.but there's no need for you to wait." he took her into the supply room and showed her wherethe vacuum tins were stored. "you open them like this," he explained, pulling one outand activating the desealer. "then, as soon as the contents cool off a little, you sitdown to dinner." "but this be not meat," she objected.

"maybe not, but it's a good substitute, anda lot better for you." a thought struck him, and he took her into the lavatory and showedher how to operate the hot and cold-water dispenser, ascribing the setup to more ofmerlin's magic. he debated on whether to explain the function and purpose of the adjacent shower,decided not to. there was a limit to all things, and an apparatus for washing one's whole bodywas simply too farfetched for anyone living in the sixth-century to take seriously. back in the rec-hall, he donned his helmetand gauntlets, reset the gauntlet timepiece, picked up his spear and encephalopathed easymoney to his side. mounting, he set the spear in the stirrup socket. rowena gazed up athim, plum-blue eyes round with awe and admiration—and

concern. "wit ye well, fair sir," she said,"that sir launcelot, the which is thy father, is a knight of many victories, and thereforeye must take care." mallory grinned. "dismay you not, fair damsel,i'll smite him from his steed before he can say 'queen guinevere'." he straightened hissword belt, activated the yore's lock, and rode across the mirage-moat and entered theforest. the "portcullis" closed behind him. dusk had become darkness by the time he reachedthe highway. approximately half an hour later he would reach the highway again. however,the seeming paradox did not disconcert him in the least: this was far from being thefirst time he had backtracked himself on a job.

as "before," he spurned the shadows of thebordering oaks and beeches and encephalopathed easy money to keep to the center of the lane.and, as "before," no one was abroad. probably king pelles' wassail was already in progress,or, if not, the goodly knights and gentlewomen were still at evensong. in any event, he reachedthe lane that led to the castle of carbonek without mishap. after entering the lane, he encephalopathedeasy money into the concealment of the shadows of the bordering trees and settled back inthe saddle to wait. rowena's placing the time of the theft at "a little while afore eightof the clock" had been a general estimate at best; hence he had allowed himself plentyof leeway and had arrived on the scene a little

early. it was well that he had, for hardlya minute passed before he heard hoofbeats approaching from the south, and presentlyhe saw a tall knight astride a resplendent steed turn into the lane. his armor gleamedin the moonlight and bespoke a quality and class that only a knight of sir launcelot'sstatus would be able to afford. mallory watched him ride down the lane tothe lion-flanked entrance and heard him announce himself as "sir launcelot". the portculliswas raised without delay, and the knight rode through the gateway and disappeared from view. mallory frowned in the darkness. somethingabout the incident had failed to jibe. he thought back, but he could isolate nothingthat, in retrospect anyway, seemed in the

least incongruous. he tried again, with thesame result, and at length he concluded that the note of discord had originated in hisimagination. again, he settled back to wait. he wasn'tparticularly worried about the outcome of the forthcoming encounter—the superiorityof the weapons and armor should be more than enough to see him through—but just the samehe wished there was some way to avoid it. there wasn't, of course. sir launcelot's theftof the sangraal was already incorporated in fact, and, as a fait accompli, could not beobviated by a previous theft. all mallory could do was to make his move after the faitacccompli in the hope that that was when he had made his move. a time-thief didn't havenearly as much leeway as his seeming freedom

of movement might lead the uninitiated tobelieve. about all he could do was to play along with destiny and await his opportunities.if destiny smiled, he succeeded; if destiny frowned, he did not. however, mallory wasoptimistic about his forthcoming bid for the grail, for if it wasn't in the books for himto wrest the cup from sir launcelot, the chances were he wouldn't have gotten as far as hehad. he estimated that it would take the man fiveminutes to enter the castle, proceed to the chamber, seize the sangraal, return to thecourtyard and come riding back to the portcullis. seven minutes proved to be nearer the mark.in response to a hail from within the wall, several of the warders bent to the windlass,whereupon the portcullis scraped and groaned

aloft, and the tall knight came riding outjust as the hands of mallory's timepiece registered 7:43 p.m. mallory let him pass, straining his eyes invain for a glimpse of the sangraal. he waited till sir launcelot was half a hundred yardsdown the highway before he encephalopathed easy money to follow, and he waited till abend in the road hid the castle of carbonek from view before encephalopathing the commandto charge. at this point, sir launcelot became aware that he was no longer alone, and wheeledhis steed around. without an instant's hesitation, he dressed his spear and launched a counter-charge.all mallory could think of was a twentieth-century steam locomotive bearing down upon him.

he swallowed grimly, "aventred" his own spear,and upped easy money's pace. two could play at being locomotives. the approaching knightand steed loomed larger; the sound of hoofbeats crescendoed into staccato thunder. the spearpointing straight toward mallory's breastplate had something of the aspect of a jet-propelledflagpole. hurriedly, he got his shield into position. maybe the man would spot the redcross, realize its significance, and slow down. if he spotted it, he gave no sign, and onlycame the faster. mallory braced himself for the forthcoming impact. however, the impactnever occurred. at the last moment his antagonist directed the spearpoint at mallory's helmet,did something that made it separate itself

from the shaft to the accompaniment of a goutof incandescence and come streaking through the air like a little comet. mallory triedto dodge, but he would have been equally as successful if he had tried to dodge a realcomet. there was a deafening clang! in the region of his left audio-amplifier, and thewhole left side of his face went numb. just before he blacked out he saw the oncomingknight veer his steed, wheel it around, and ride off. a peal of all-too-familiar laughterdrifted back over the man's shoulder. "now," said the rent-a-robogogue, "you willtry again: 'a' is for 'atom', 'b' is for 'bomb', 'c' is for 'conform', 'd' is for 'dollar','e' is for 'economy', and 'f' is for 'fun'. what comes after 'f'?"

the boy mallory squirmed in his abc chair."i don't know what comes next and i don't care!" "i'll box your ears," the rent-a-robogoguethreatened. "you wouldn't dare!" "yes i would—i'm a physical-chastisementmodel, you know. now, we'll try once more: 'a' is for 'atom', 'b' is for 'bomb', 'c'is for 'conform', 'd' is for 'dollar', 'e' is for 'economy', and 'f' is for 'fun'. whatcomes after 'f'?" "i told you that i didn't know and that ididn't care!" "i warned you," said the rent-a-robogogue.

"ow!" the boy mallory cried. "ow!" the man mallory groaned, sitting upin the weeds beside the early sixth-century highway. all was silence around him, if you discountedthe stridulations of insects and the be-ke korak-korak-korak of frogs. a few yards away,easy money stood immobile in the moonlight. mallory raised his hand to his helmet andfelt the sizable dent that the spearpoint had made. gingerly, he took the helmet off.who in the world would have dreamed that they had jet-rifles in this day and age! the absurdity of the thought snapped him backto full awareness. a moment later he remembered

the peal of familiar laughter. perfidion! the man must have wanted the grail desperatelyto have come after it himself, which meant that it was probably worth much more thanhe had let on. but how had he known when and where to essay the lift? more specifically,how had he found out when and where to essay the lift on such short notice? mallory thought back. he was reasonably certainthat he had made no slips of the tongue during his visit to the perfidion tower and duringthe ensuing game of golp, and he was equally certain that he had let fall no revealingreferences to the place-time he had so carefully

pinpointed. where, then, had he gone astray? suddenly, way back in his mind, perfidionsaid, "by the way, tom, i take it you're all set as regards costume, equipment and thelike." "i've got the sweetest little suit of armoryou ever laid eyes on," mallory heard himself answer. he swore. so that was it! all perfidion hadneeded to do was to make the rounds of the costumers who specialized in armor, and toshell out a few kennedees to the one mallory had patronized last. then, in possession ofthe knowledge that mallory was embarking into the past as sir galahad, all perfidion hadhad to do was to consult one of the many experts

he kept at his beck and call. the expert hadundoubtedly told him where sir galahad was supposed to have found the grail before takingit to sarras, and, equally as important, approximately when the event was supposed to have takenplace. further questions could not have failed to elicit the additional information thatsir launcelot had come to the chamber of the sangraal before sir galahad had, and fromthis perfidion had undoubtedly deduced that sir launcelot could very well have been atime-thief in disguise, too, and that the man, having arrived on the scene first, couldvery well have been responsible for the grail's so-called return to heaven, despite what legendsaid to the contrary. certainly it had been a gamble worth taking, and obviously perfidionhad taken it.

and won the jackpot. but that didn't mean he was going to keepthe jackpot. not by a long shot. mallory encephalopathed easy money to his side and pulled himselfto his feet with the help of the left stirrup and hung his helmet on the pommel. then hepicked up his spear and clambered into the saddle. "we're not beat yet, easy money,"he said. giddy-ap! easy money whinnied, stamped its feet, andstarted back toward the yore. a short while later they passed the lane that led to thecastle of carbonek. presently mallory heard the clip-clop of approaching hoofbeats, andnot wanting to risk an encounter in his weakened condition, he encephalo-guided the rohorseoff the highway and into the deep shadows

of a big oak. there was something tantalizinglyfamiliar about the horse and rider coming down the highway. small wonder: the "horse"was easy money and the rider was himself. he was on his way to the castle of carbonekto lift the holy grail. mallory gazed after his retreating figuredisgustedly. "sucker!" he said. section iv rowena nearly threw a fit when mallory rodeinto the rec-hall. "oh, fair knight, ye be sorely wounded indeed!" she cried, helpinghim down from his rohorse. "certes, an ye bleed so much ye may die!" mallory's head was throbbing, and he saw twodamosels that hight rowena instead of only

one. "i'll be all right after i lie down fora while," he said. "and don't worry about the bleeding—it's almost stopped." he took a step in the direction of his bedroomoffice, staggered and would have fallen if she hadn't caught his arm. her strength astonishedhim: for all the lightness of his armor, it still lent him an over-all weight of sometwo hundred and ten pounds; and yet the shoulder which she provided for him to lean on didnot give once all the way to his bedside. she had his pauldrons, breastplate, and arm-coveringsoff in no time flat. his cuisses, greaves, and sollerets followed. the last he rememberedwas lying there in his under garments and his chain-mail vest with three faces swimmingin the misted sea of his vision, each of them

invested with the peculiar beauty that concern,and concern alone, can grant. "how is mammakin's little man now?" the rent-a-mammakinasked, applying soothing sedasalve to the boy mallory's swollen ear. "he hit me, mammakin," the boy mallory sobbed."just because i wouldn't tell him that 'g' stands for 'geography'. i hate geography!i hate it, hate it, hate it!" "nasty old rent-a-robogogue! mammakin senthim away. he was an old model that got rented out by mistake. is mammakin's little man'sear all right now?" the boy mallory sat up. "i want my real—"he began. the man mallory sat up. "i want my real—"he began.

"i have great joy of thy swift recovery, fairsir," rowena said. she was perched on the edge of his bed, applyinga cool and soothing ointment to his ear. on the table by the bed lay a basin of water,and on her lap lay a pink tube. he grabbed the tube, looked at the label. sedasalve.he sighed with relief. "where did you find it?" he asked. "la! fair sir, when ye did seem no longeron live i did run both toward and forward in the castle seeking a magical salve wherebyi might succor ye, whereupon i did come to a white box in the chapel wherein lay manymagical tubes of diverse colors and natures whereof i did choose one and—"

mallory was incredulous. "you chose a tubeat random?" he demanded. "good lord, it might have contained a counteragent that could havekilled me!" "the ... the letters thereon seemed of a magicalnature, fair knight. and ... and the color was seemly." "well anyway it was the right one." he lookedat her. could she read? he wondered. he was tempted to ask her, but refrained for fearof embarrassing her. "in that same white box," he said, "you will find a big bottle filledwith round red pellets. would you get it for when she returned with it, he took two ofthe pills, then he laid his head back on the pillow. "they'll restore the blood i lost,"he explained, "but in order for them to do

the job properly i've got to lie perfectlystill for at least one hour." she sat down on the edge of the bed. "marry!the magic of merlin is marvelous, albeit not as marvelous as the magic of joseph of arimathea." "what did he do that was so marvelous?" the plum-blue eyes were fixed full upon hisface. "ye wit naught of the tale of the white shield ye bear, fair sir? list, and i willtell ye: "it befell after the passion of our lord thirty-twoyear, that joseph of arimathea, the gentle knight, the which took down our lord off theholy cross, at that time departed from jerusalem with a great party of his kindred with him.and so he labored till that they came to a

city that hight sarras. and at that same hourthat joseph came to sarras there was a king that hight evelake, that had great war againstthe saracens, and in especially against one saracen, the which was king evelake's cousin,a rich king and a mighty, which marched nigh this land, and his name was called tollemela feintes. so on a day these two met to do battle. then joseph, the son of joseph ofarimathea, went to king evelake and told him he should be discomfit and slain, but if heleft his belief of the old law and believed upon the new law. and then there he showedhim the right belief of the holy trinity, to the which he agreed unto with all his heart;and there this shield was made for king evelake, in the name of him that died upon the cross.and then—"

"hold it a minute," mallory said. "this shieldyou've finally got around to mentioning—is it the same one you set out to tell me about?" "wit ye well, fair sir. and then through kingevelake's good belief he had the better of king tolleme. for when evelake was in thebattle there was a cloth set afore the shield, and when he was in the greatest peril he leftput away the cloth, and then his enemies saw a figure of a man on the cross, wherethroughthey all were discomfit. and so it befell that a man of king evelake's was smitten hishand off, and bare that hand in his other hand; and joseph called that man unto himand bade him go with good devotion touch the cross. and as soon as that man had touchedthe cross with his hand it was as whole as

ever it was tofore. then soon after therefell a great marvel, that the cross of the shield at one time vanished away that no manwist where it became. and then king evelake was baptized, and for the most part all thepeople of that city. so, soon after joseph would depart, and king evelake would go withhim whether he would or nold. and so by fortune they came into this land, that at that timewas called great britain: and there they found a great felon paynim, that put joseph intoprison. and so—" "a great what?" mallory asked. in one sensethe story was familiar to him, but what bothered him was the fact that it was familiar in anothersense too—a sense he couldn't put his finger on.

"a wicked unbeliever in our lord. and so byfortune tidings came unto a worthy man that hight mondrames, and he assembled all hispeople for the great renown he had heard of joseph; and so he came into the land of greatbritain and disinherited this felon paynim and consumed him; and therewith deliveredjoseph out of prison. and after that all the people were turned to the christian faith. "not long after that joseph was laid in hisdeadly bed. and when king evelake say that he made much sorrow, and said: for thy lovei have left my country, and sith ye shall depart out of this world, leave me some tokenof yours that i may think on you. joseph said: that will i do full gladly; now bring me yourshield that i took you when ye went into battle

against king tolleme. then joseph bled atthe nose, so that he might not by no means be staunched. and there upon that shield hemade a cross of his own blood. now may ye see a remembrance that i love you, for yeshall never see this shield but ye shall think on me, and it shall be always as fresh asit is now. and never shall man bear this shield about his neck but he shall repent it, untothe time that galahad, the good knight, bare it; and the last of my lineage shall haveit about his neck, that shall do many marvelous deeds. now, said king evelake, where shalli put this shield, that this worthy knight may have it? ye shall leave it there as nacien,the hermit, shall be put after his death; for thither shall that good knight come thefifteenth day after that he shall receive

the order of knighthood: and so...." when mallory awoke, rowena's head was restingon his chest, and she was breathing the soft and even breaths of untroubled sleep. herhair, viewed thus closely, was not as dark as he had at first believed it to be. it wasbrown, really, rather than dark-brown. and astonishingly lustrous. without thinking,he rested his hand lightly upon her head. she stirred then, and sat up, rubbing herplum-blue eyes. for a moment she stared at him uncomprehendingly, then, "prithee forgiveme, fair sir," she said. mallory sat up, too. "forgive you for what?go open a couple of vacuum tins while i get into my armor—i'm going to bring this caperto a close."

"thy ... thy strength has returned?" "i never felt better in my life." in the rec-hall he said, sitting down at thetable before one of the two vacuum tins she had opened, "you never did ask me what happened." "ye will tell me of thy own will an ye wishme to know." mallory took a mouthful of simulsteak, chewedand swallowed. "your sir launcelot turned out to be a phony, and pulled a rabbit outof his helmet the nature of which i'd better not try to describe to you." eyes round as plums, she regarded him acrossthe table. "a ... a phony, fair sir?"

mallory nodded. "that's a sort of felon paynimwho plays golp." "but with my own eyes i did see his armor,fair knight." "that's right—you saw his armor. but youdidn't see him. a certain character by the name of perfidion was residing behind thathardware—not the good sir launcelot." "perfidion?" mallory grinned. "sir jason perfidion—aknight errant ye wit not of. but the tournament's not over yet, and this time i've got the rabbit:he thinks i'm dead." "he ... he left ye for dead, fair sir?" "that he did, and if that little brain-busterof his had struck just one inch to the right,

i'd have been just that." he shoved his emptyvacuum tin away and stood up. "excuse me a minute—i've got to visit the sorcerer'stower again." in the control room, he took the yore backto 7:20 p.m. of the same day and re-materialized it half a mile farther down the valley. turning,he saw that rowena had followed him and was watching him from the doorway. "whereaboutsmay i find oats that i may feed thy horse, fair knight?" she asked. "easy money doesn't eat. he—" mallory pausedastonished as two of the largest tears he had ever seen coalesced in her eyes and wenttumbling down her cheeks. "oh, it's not that he's sick," he rushed on. "it's just thathorses like him don't require food to keep

them going. why, easy money's guaranteed for... he'll live another thirty years." the sun came up beyond the plum-blue horizonsof her eyes. "it pleaseth me mickle to hear ye speak thus, fair knight. i ... i have greatjoy of him." back in the rec-hall, mallory pulled on hisgauntlets, reset his timepiece, and donned his helmet. the left audio-amplifier was shot,but otherwise the piece was in good condition—aside from the dent, of course. he encephalopathedeasy money to his side, hung his shield around his neck, and mounted. "hand me my spear,will you, rowena?" he asked. she did so. "ye be a most noble knight indeed,fair sir," she said, "for to set so little store by thine own life in the service ofa damosel the which is undeserving of thy

deeds. i ... i would lever that ye forsookthe sangraal than that ye be fordone." her concern touched him, and he removed hishelmet and leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "keep the home fires burning," hesaid; then, setting his helmet back in place, he activated the lock, rode across the mirage-moat,and set forth into the forest once again. section v this time when he reached the crest of theridge that separated the two valleys, mallory took an azimuth on the towers of carbonek,encephalo-fed the direction to easy money, and programmed the "animal" to proceed inas straight a course as possible. in the east, the moon was just beginning torise; in the west, traces of the sunset lingered

blood-red just above the horizon. on the highwaybelow, a knight sitting astride a brown rohorse and bearing a white shield with a red crossin the center was riding toward carbonek to challenge a twenty-second century "felon paynim"in imitation age-of-chivalry armor. in the valley mallory had just left behind him therewere two castles named yore, and soon, a third would pop into existence and yet another mallorycome riding out. mallory grinned. it was a little bit like playing chess. the forest which easy money presently enteredwas parklike in places, and sometimes the trees thinned out into wide, moonlit meadows.crossing one of the meadows, mallory saw the first star, and when at length easy moneyemerged on the highway, the heavens were decked

out in typical midsummer panoply. the rohorsehad followed its programming almost perfectly and had emerged at a point just south of thelane leading to the castle of carbonek. all mallory had to do was to encephalo-guide itfarther down the highway to a point beyond the site of the forthcoming joust. while doingso, he kept well within the concealing shadows of the bordering oaks and beeches where theground was soft and could give forth no telltale clip-clop of hoofbeats. his circumspectionproved wise—as in one sense, of course, it already had—and when the false sir launcelotcame riding by on his way to the castle and the chamber of the sangraal, he was no moreaware of mallory iii's presence by the roadside than he would presently be aware of malloryii's presence in the shadows of the trees

that bordered the lane. mallory iii grinned again and brought easymoney to a halt just beyond the next bend. "wit ye well, sir jason, that thy hours benumbered," he said. he remained seated in the saddle, feelingpretty good about the world. in no time at all, if his one-man ambuscade came off, hewould be on his way back to the yore, and thence to the twenty-second century and ahaircut. selling the sangraal without the aid of a professional time-fence like perfidionwould be difficult, of course, but it could be done, and once it was done, he, mallory,could take his place on get-rich-quick street with the best of them, and no questions wouldbe asked. there was, to be sure, the problem

of what to do about a certain damosel thathight rowena, but he would face that when he came to it. maybe he could drop her offa dozen years in the future in a region far enough removed from carbonek to ensure hersafety. he would see. at this point in his reflections he was joltedinto alertness by the sound of approaching hoofbeats. a moment later he heard a secondset of hoofbeats and knew that mallory ii had made his presence known. presently bothsets crescendoed into staccato thunder as the two "knights" came pounding toward eachother, and not long afterward there was a clank and a clatter as mallory ii went tumblingout of his saddle and into the roadside weeds. finally the single set of hoofbeats took overagain, and mallory iii saw a horse and rider

coming around the bend in the highway. hebraced himself. before making his play, he waited till horseand rider were directly opposite him; then he encephalopathed easy money to charge. "sirlauncelot" managed to get his shield up in time, but the maneuver did him no good. mallory'sspearhead struck the shield dead center, and "sir launcelot" went sailing out of his saddleto land with an awesome clatter flat on his back on the highway. he did not get up. dismounting, mallory removed the man's helmet.it was perfidion all right. there was a large bruise on the side of his head and he wasout cold, but he was still breathing. next, mallory looked for the sangraal. perfidionhad concealed it somewhere, and apparently

he had done the job well. since the armorcould not have accommodated an object of that size, the hiding place had to be somewhereon the body of his horse. the horse was standing quietly beside easy money in the middle ofthe highway. it was jet-black and its fetlock-length trappings were blue, threaded with silver;otherwise, the two steeds were identical. mallory tumbled to the truth then, went overto where the black "horse" was standing, raised its trappings, found the tiny activator button,and depressed it. the croup-hood rose up, and there in the secret compartment, wrappedin red samite, lay the cause of the mounting absentee-rate in king arthur's court. always the skeptic, mallory raised a cornerof the samite in order to make certain that

he was not being cheated. instantly, a reflectedray of moonlight stabbed upward into his eyes, and for a moment he was blinded. exorcisingthe thought that sneaked into his mind, he closed the croup-hood, rearranged the trappings,and returned to perfidion's side. dragging the armor-encumbered man over to the blackrohorse and slinging him over the saddle was no easy matter, but mallory managed; thenhe picked up perfidion's helmet and spear and set the former on the pommel and wedgedthe latter in one of the stirrups. finally he mounted easy money and, encephalopathingthe black rohorse to follow, set out down the highway away from the castle of carbonek. make-believe castles could fool the hadbeens,but they couldn't fool a professional. he

spotted the phony towers of perfidion's tsbrising above the trees before he had proceeded half a mile. after raising the "portcullis",he got the man down from the black rohorse, dragged him inside, and propped him againstthe rec-hall bar. then he got the man's helmet and spear and laid them beside him. afterconsiderable reflection, he went into the control room, set the time-dial for june 10,1964, the space-dial for a busy intersection in downtown los angeles, and punched out h-o-t-d-o-gs-t-a-n-d on the lumillusion panel. satisfied, he went into the generator room and short-circuitedthe automatic throw-out unit so that when rematerialization took place, the generatorwould burn up. finding a ball of heavy-duty twine, he returned to the control room, tiedone end to the master switch, and began backing

out of the tsb, unwinding the twine as hewent. in the rec-hall, he paused, and grinned downat the still-unconscious perfidion. "it's a better break than you meant to give me,jason," he said. "and don't worry—once you explain to the authorities what you're doingin a suit of sixth-century armor and how you happened to open a giant hot-dog stand inthe middle of a traffic-clogged crossroads, you'll be all right. as a matter of fact,with your knowledge of things to come, you'll probably wind up a richer man than you arenow—if the smog doesn't get you first." he stepped through the lock, jerked the twine,and the "castle" vanished into thin air. remounting easy money and encephalopathingthe black rohorse to follow, he started back

toward the yore, taking a direct route throughthe forest. he was halfway to his destination and had just emerged into a wide meadow whenhe saw the knight with the white shield riding toward him in the bright moonlight. in thecenter of the shield there was a vivid blood-red cross. when the knight saw mallory, he brought hissteed to a halt. moonlight glimmered eerily on his shield, turned his helmet to silver.his armor seemed to emit an unearthly light—a light that was at once terrifying and transcendent.the hilt of his sword was as blood-red as the cross on his shield; so was the pommelof his spear. here was righteousness incarnate. here in the form of an armored man on horsebackwas the quintessence of the age of chivalry—not

the age of chivalry as exemplified by thevain and boasting nobles who had constituted nine-tenths of the knight-errantry professionand who had used the quest of the holy grail as an excuse to seek after mead and maidens,but the age of chivalry as it might have been if the ideal behind it had been shared bythe many instead of by the few; the age of chivalry, in short, as it had come down toposterity through the pages of malory's le morte d'arthur. at length the knight spoke: "i hight sir galahadof the table round." reluctantly, mallory encephalopathed his tworohorses to halt, and said the only thing he had left to say: "i hight sir thomas ofthe castle yore."

"by whose leave bear ye likenesses of thered arms and the white shield whereon shines the red cross the which was put there by josephof arimathea whilst he lay dying in his deadly bed?" mallory did not answer. there was silence. then, "i would joust withye," sir galahad said. there it was, laid right on the line. thechallenge— the death sentence. nonsense! mallory told himself. he's nothingbut a nineteen-year old kid. with your rohorse and your superior weapons you can unseat himin two seconds flat, and once he's down, that

glorified junk pile he's wearing will gluehim to the ground so fast he won't be able to lift a finger! aloud, he said, "have at me then!" instantly, sir galahad wheeled his horse aroundand rode to the far side of the meadow. there, he wheeled the horse around again and dressedhis spear. moonlight danced a silvery saraband on his white shield, and the blood-red crossblurred and seemed to run. mallory dressed his own spear. immediately,sir galahad charged. full speed ahead, easy money! mallory encephalopathed, and the rohorsetook off like a rocket. all he had to do was to hang on tight, andthe joust would be in the bag, he reassured

himself. sir galahad's spear would break likea matchstick, while his own superior spear would penetrate sir galahad's shield as thoughthe shield was made of tissue paper, as in a sense it really was when you compared themetal that constituted it to modern alloys. no matter how you looked at the situation,the kid was in for a big letdown. mallory almost felt sorry for him. the hoofbeats of horse and rohorse crescendoed;there was the resounding clang! of steel coming into violent contact with steel. mallory'sspear struck sir galahad's shield dead center—and snapped in two. sir galahad's spear struckmallory's shield dead center—and mallory sailed over easy money's croup and crashedto the ground.

he was stunned, both mentally and physically.staggering to his feet, he drew his sword and raised his shield. sir galahad had wheeledhis horse around, and now he came riding back. several yards from mallory, he tossed hisspear aside, dismounted as lightly as though he wore no armor at all, drew his sword, andadvanced. mallory stepped forward, his confidence returning. his spear had been defective—thatwas it. but his sword and his shield weren't, and now that the kid had elected to give hima sporting chance, he would teach the young upstart a lesson that he would never forget. again, the two men came together. down camesir galahad's sixth century sword; up went mallory's twenty-second century shield. therewas an ear-piercing clang, and the shield

parted down the middle. aghast, mallory stepped back. sir galahadmoved in, sword upraised again. mallory raised his own sword, caught the full force of theterrific down-rushing blow on the blade. his sword was cut cleanly in two, his left pauldronwas cleanly cleaved, and a great numbness afflicted his left shoulder. he went down. he stayed down. sir galahad leaned over him, unbroken sworduplifted. the cross in the center of the snow-white shield was a bright and burning red. "ye mustyield you as an overcome man, or else i may slay you."

"i yield," mallory said. sir galahad sheathed his sword. "ye be notsorely wounded, and sithen i desire not neither of they two steeds, as belike they be as unworthyas they pieces, ye can return to thy castle unholpen." mallory blacked out for a moment, and whenhe came to, the shining knight was gone. he lay there in the moonlight for some time,looking up at the stars. at length he fought his way to his feet and encephalopathed thetwo rohorses to his side. mounting easy money, he encephalopathed it to return to the westernmost"castle of yore" and encephalopathed the other rohorse to follow. he left his broken weaponswhere they lay.

what had gone out of the world during thelast sixteen hundred years that had left sophisticated twenty-second century steel inferior in qualityto naã¯ve sixth-century wrought iron? what did sir galahad have that he, mallory, lacked?mallory shook his head. he did not know. the moonlit "towers" of the yore had becomevisible through the trees before it occurred to him that before riding away the man justmight have removed the sangraal from the black rohorse's croup. at first thought, such apossibility was too absurd to be entertained, but not on second thought. according to lemorte d'arthur, the fellowship of sir galahad, sir percivale, and sir bors had taken boththe table of silver and the sangraal to sarras where, some time later, the sangraal had been"borne up to heaven", never to be seen again.

whether they had taken the table of silverdid not concern mallory, but what did concern him was the fact that if they had taken thesangraal they could have done so only if it had fallen into sir galahad's hands this verynight. tomorrow would be too late—now was too late, in fact—provided, of course, thatmallory was destined to return with it to the twenty-second century. here, then, wasthe crossroads, the real moment of truth: was he destined to succeed, or wasn't he? hurriedly, he encephalopathed the two rohorsesto halt, dismounted, and raised the black rohorse's trappings. he was dizzy from theloss of blood, but he did not let his dizziness dissuade him from his purpose, and he hadthe croup-hood raised in a matter of a few

seconds. he held his breath when he lookedwithin, expelled it with relief. the sangraal had not been disturbed. he lifted it out of the croup-compartment,straightened its red samite covering, and cradled it in his arms. too weak to remounteasy money, he encephalopathed the two rohorses to follow and began walking toward the yore.rowena must have seen him coming on one of the telewindows, for she had the lock openwhen he arrived. her face went white when she looked at him, and when she saw the grail,her eyes grew even larger than plums. he went over and set it gently down on the rec-halltable, then he collapsed into a nearby chair. he had just enough presence of mind left tosend her for the bottle of blood-restorer

pills, and just enough strength left to swallowseveral of them when she brought it. then he boarded the phantom ship that had mysteriouslyappeared beside him and set sail upon the soundless sea of night. section vi "no," said the rent-a-mammakin, "you cannotsee her. she is displeased with your score in the get-rich-quick race." "i did my best," the boy mallory sobbed. "butwhen it came to stepping on all those faces, i just couldn't do it!" the rent-a-mammakin arranged its featuresinto a severe frown and strengthened its grip

on the boy mallory's arm. "you knew that theywere only painted on the game floor to symbolize the competitive spirit," it said. "why couldn'tyou step on them?" the boy mallory made a final desperate effortto gain the bedroom door which his mother had just slammed and before which the rent-a-mammakinstood, then he sank defeated to the floor. "i don't know why—i just couldn't, that'sall," he sobbed. he raised his voice. "but i will step on them! i'll step on real facestoo—just you wait and see. i'll be a bigger get-rich-quickman than my father ever dreamedof being. i'll show her!" "i'll show her," the man mallory murmured,"just you wait and see." he opened his eyes. save for himself, thebedroom-office was empty. "rowena?"

no answer. he raised his voice. "rowena!" again, no answer. he frowned. the door to the bedroom-officewas open, and the "castle" certainly wasn't so large that his voice couldn't carry fromone end of it to the other. his shoulder throbbed faintly, but otherwisehe was unaware of his wound. rowena had bound it neatly—it was said that age-of-chivalrygentlewomen were quite proficient in such matters—and apparently she had once againgot hold of the right counteragent. he sat up and swung his feet to the floor.so far, so good. tentatively, he stood up.

a wave of vertigo broke over him. after itpassed, he was as good as new. the blood-restorer pills had done their work well. nevertheless, everything was not as it shouldbe. something was very definitely wrong. "rowena!" he called again. still no answer. she had removed his armor and piled it neatlyat the foot of the bed. he stared at the various pieces, trying desperately to think. somethinghad awakened him—that was it. the slamming of a door ... or a lock. he look a deep breath. he smelled green things.dampness. a forest at eventide....

he knew then what was wrong. the lock of theyore had been opened and had been left open long enough for the evening air to permeatethe interior of the tsb; long enough, in other words, to have permitted someone to ride acrossthe imaginary drawbridge that spanned the mirage-moat. afterward, the lock had slammedback into place of its own accord. he hurried into the rec-hall. easy money stoodall alone behind the tourist-bar. the black rohorse was gone. his eyes leaped to the rec-hall table. thesangraal was gone, too. he groaned. the little idiot was taking itback! and after he had forbidden her to leave the "castle" too! well no, he hadn't forbiddenher exactly: he had forbidden her to leave

it during his absence. he walked over to the telewindow nearest thelock and scrutinized the screen. she was nowhere in sight, but night was on hand and the rangeof his vision, while considerably abetted by the light of the rising moon, was limitedto the nearer trees. presently he frowned. was it still the samenight, or had he been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours? it couldn't be the same night—the positionof the moon disproved that. and yet he could swear that he had been unconscious for nomore than a few hours. belatedly, he remembered his gauntlet timepiece,and returned to the bedroom-office. the timepiece

registered 10:32. but that didn't make anysense either: the moon was still low in the sky. he knew then that there could be but one answer,and he headed for the control room posthaste. sure enough, the jump-board time-dial hadbeen set for 8:00 p.m. of the same day. he looked at the space-dial. that had been setto re-materialize the yore one half mile farther west. he wiped his forehead. good lord, she mighthave sent the tsb all the way back to the age of reptiles! even worse, she might haveplunked it right down in the middle of wwiii! she hadn't, though. in point of fact, shehad done exactly what she had set out to do—taken

the yore back to a point in time from whichthe sangraal could be returned to the castle of carbonek less than an hour after it hadbeen stolen. suddenly he remembered how she had watchedhim from the doorway of the control room each time he had reset the time and space-dials.technologically speaking, she was little more than a child, but jump-boards were as uncomplicatedas modern technology could make them, and a person needed to be but little more thana child to operate them. grimly, mallory returned to his bedroom-officeand got into his armor; then, ignoring the throbbing of his reawakened wound, he mountedeasy money and set out. he had no weapons, but it could not be helped. with a littleluck, he would have need of none. he was about

due for a little luck, if you asked him. he gambled that rowena would use the sameroute back to the chamber of the sangraal that they had used in leaving it—actually,she had no other choice—and he encephalo-guided easy money at a fast trot in the directionof the river in the hope of overtaking her before she reached the entrance to the subterraneanpassage. however, the hope did not materialize, and he saw no sign of her till he reachedthe entrance himself. strictly speaking, he saw no sign of her then either, but he diddiscern several dislodged stones that could have been thrown up by the black rohorse'shoofs. entering the passage, he frowned. until thatmoment, the incongruity of a sixth-century

damosel encephalo-guiding a twenty-secondcentury rohorse had not struck him. after a moment, though, he had to admit that theincongruity was not as glaring as it had at first seemed. "encephalopathing" was merelya glorified term for "thinking," and rowena, shortly after mounting perfidion's steed,must have made the discovery that she had only to think where she wanted to go in orderfor the rohorse to take her there. he had not remembered to bring a light, nordid he need one. the infra-red rays of easy money's eye units were more than sufficientfor the task on hand, and overtaking the girl would have been as easy as rolling off a log—ifshe hadn't been riding a rohorse, too. overtaking her wasn't of paramount importance anyway:he could confiscate the sangraal after she

returned it just as easily as he could before. the odd part about the whole thing was thatmallory never once thought of the inevitable overlap till he saw the flicker of torchlightup ahead. an instant later he heard the sound of a woman's voice, and instinctively he encephalo-guidedeasy money into a nearby shallow cave. the flickering light grew gradually brighter,and presently hoofbeats became audible. the woman's voice was loud and clear now, andmallory made out her words above the purling of the underground stream: "... and then heset down the maiden, and was armed at all pieces save he lacked his spear. then he dressedhis shield, and drew out his sword, and bors and through great strength he beat him downto the earth, and at the pulling of bors'

he took me from my father privily: for i nornone of my father's men mistrusted him not, and dishonored for ever. thus as...." at this point, the truth behind the senseof deja vu that mallory had experienced the first time he had heard the tale hit him sohard between the eyes that he jerked back his head. when he did so, his helmet cameinto contact with the cave wall and scraped against the stone. the rohorse and its tworiders were directly across the stream now. "shhh!" mallory i whispered. rowena i gasped. "it were best that i thankedye now for thy great kindness, fair knight," she said, "for anon we be no longer on live."

"nonsense!" mallory i said. "if this fiendof yours is anywhere in the vicinity, he's probably more afraid of us than we are ofhim." "per ... peradventure he hath already hadmeat," rowena i said hopefully. "the tale saith that an the fiend be filled he becomesaweary and besets not them the which do pass him by in peace." "i'll keep my sword handy just in case hechanges his mind," mallory i said. "meanwhile, came twelve knights seeking after her, andanon...." for a long while after the voices faded away,mallory iv could not move. hearing the story the second time and, more important, hearingit from the standpoint of an observer, he

had been able to identify it for what it reallywas—an excerpt from le morte d'arthur. the joseph of arimathea bit had been an excerpt,too, he realized now, probably lifted word for word from the text. it was odd indeedthat a sixth-century damosel who presumably couldn't read could be on such familiar termswith a book that would not be published for another nine hundred and forty-three years. but not so odd if she was a twenty-secondcentury blonde in a sixth-century damosel's clothing. remembering perfidion's secretary, malloryfelt sick. no, there was no noticeable resemblance between her and the damosel that hight rowena;but the removal of a girdle and a quarter

of a pound of makeup, not to mention the applicationof a "lustre-rich" brown hair-dye and the insertion of a pair of plum-blue contact lenses,could very well have brought such a resemblance into being—and quite obviously had. thepast police were noted for their impersonations, and most of them had eidetic memories. come on, easy money, mallory encephalopathed.you and i have got a little score to settle. when he entered the chamber of the sangraal,rowena iv was arranging the red samite cover around the grail. she jumped when she sawhim. "marry! fair sir, ye did startle me. methinketh ye be asleep in thy castle." "knock it off," mallory said. "the masquerade'sover."

she regarded him with round uncomprehendingeyes. he got the impression that she had been crying. "the ... the masquerade, fair knight?" "that's right ... the masquerade. you're nomore the damosel rowena than i'm the knight sir galahad." she lowered her eyes to his breastplate. "i... i wot well ye be not sir galahad, fair sir. it ... it happed that aforetime i didsee sir galahad with my own eyes, and when ye did unlace thy unberere and i did see thyface, i knew ye could not be him of which ye spake." abruptly she raised her head andlooked at him defiantly. "but i knew from thy eyes that ye be most noble, fair sir,and therefore an ye did pretend to be him

the which ye were not, ye did so for noblecause, and it were not for me to question." "i said knock it off," mallory said, but withconsiderable less conviction. "i'm onto you—don't you see? you're a time-fink." "a ... a time fink? i wot not what—" "an agent of the past police. one of thosedo-gooders who run around history replacing stolen goods and turning in hard-working peoplelike myself. you gave yourself away when you lifted that sir bors bit straight out of lemorte d'arthur and—" "but i did say ye sooth, fair sir. sir borsdid verily succor my maidenhead. i wot not how there can be two of ye and two of me andfour hackneys when afore there were but two,

and i wot not how by touching the magic boardin thy castle in a certain fashion that i could make the hour earlier and i wot nothow the magic steed i did bestride brought me hither—i wot not none of these matters,fair sir. i wot only that the magic of thy castle is marvelous indeed." for a while, mallory didn't say anything.he couldn't. in the plum-blue eyes fixed full upon his face, truth shone, and that sametruth had invested her every word. the damosel rowena, despite all evidence to the contraryand despite the glaring paradox the admission gave rise to, was not a phony, never had beena phony, and never would be a phony. she was, as a matter of fact—with the exception ofsir galahad—the only completely honest person

he had known in all his life. "tell me," he said, at length, "weren't youafraid to come back through that passage alone? weren't you afraid the fiend would get you?" "la! fair sir—i had great fear. but it werenot fitting that i bethought me of myself at such a time." she paused. then, "what mightbe thy true name, sir knight?" "mallory," mallory said. "thomas mallory." "i have great joy of thy acquaintance, sirthomas." mallory only half heard her. he was lookingat the samite-covered sangraal. no more obstacles stood between him and his quest, and timewas a-wasting. he started to take a step in

the direction of the silver table. his foot did not leave the floor. he was acutely aware of rowena's eyes. asa matter of fact, he could almost feel them upon his face. it wasn't that they were anydifferent than they had been before: it was just that he was suddenly and painfully cognizantof the trust and the admiration that shone in them. despite himself, he had the feelingthat he was standing in bright and blinding sunlight. again, he started to take a step in the directionof the silver table. again, his foot did not leave the floor.

it wasn't so much the fact that she didn'tbelieve he would take the sangraal that bothered him: it was the fact that she couldn't conceiveof him taking it. she could be convinced that black was white, perhaps, and that white wasblack, and that fiends hung out in empty caves and castles; but she could never be convincedthat a "knight" of the qualities she imputed to mallory could perform a dishonorable act. and there it was, laid right on the line.for all the good the grail was going to do mallory, it might just as well have been atthe bottom of the mindanao deep. he sighed. his gamble hadn't paid off anymore than perfidion's had. the real sir galahad was the one who had inherited the grail afterall—not the false one. the false one grinned

ruefully. "well," he told the damosel rowena,"it's been nice knowing you." he swallowed; for some reason his throat felt tight. "i... i imagine you'll be all right now." to his amazement she broke into tears. "oh,sir thomas!" she cried. "in my great haste to return the sangraal to the chamber andto right the grievous wrong committed by the untrue knight sir jason, i did bewray my trustagain. for when i espied ye and me and easy money in the passage i did suffer a greatdiscomfit, and it so happed that when my steed did enter into a cave that the sangraal camefree from my hands and ... and—" mallory was staring at her. "you dropped it?" stepping over to the silver table, she lifteda corner of the red samite. the dent was not

a deep one, but just the same you didn't haveto look twice to see it. "i ... i nyst not what to do," she said. suddenly mallory remembered the first soundhe had heard in the passage when he and rowena were leaving the castle of carbonek. "wellhow do you like that!" he said. he grinned. "i take it that this puts your hands in jeopardyall over again—right?" "yea, sir thomas, but i would lever die thanbeseech thee again to—" "which," mallory continued happily, "makesit out of the question for a knight such as myself to leave you behind." he took her arm."come on," he said. "i don't know how i'm going to fit a sixth-century damosel intotwenty-second century society, but believe

me, i'm going to try!" "and ... and will ye take easy money to thisland whereof ye speak, sir thomas?" "sir thomas" grinned. "wit ye well," he said,"and his buddy, too. come on." in the yore, he tossed his helmet and gauntletsinto a corner of the rec-hall and proceeded straight to the control room. there, withrowena standing at his elbow, he set the time-dial for june 21, 2178 and the space-dial for thekansas city time-tourist port. lord, it would be good to get home again and get a haircut!"here goes," he told rowena, and threw the switch. there was a faint tremor. "brace yourself,rowena," he said, and took her over to the

control-room telewindow. together, they gazed upon the screen. mallorygasped. the vista of spiral suburban dwellings which he had been expecting was not in theoffing. in its stead was a green, tree-stippled countryside. in the distance, a castle wasclearly discernible. he stared at it. it wasn't a sixth-centuryjob like carbonek—it was much more modern. but it was still a castle. obviously, thejump-board had malfunctioned and thrown the yore only a little ways into the future, thewhile leaving it in pretty much the same locale. he returned to the jump-board to find out.just as he reached it, its lights flickered and went out. the time and space-dials, however,remained illumined long enough for him to

see when and where the tsb had re-materialized.the year was 1428 a.d.; the locale, warwickshire. mallory made tracks for the generator room.the generator was smoking, and the room reeked with the stench of shorted wires. he swore. perfidion! so that was why the man had broken with traditionand invited a common time-thief to a game of golp! if he had been anyone but perfidion he wouldhave gimmicked the controls of the yore so that mallory would have wound up directlyin the fifteenth century sans sojourn in the sixth. but being perfidion, he had wantedmallory to know how completely he was being

outsmarted. the chances were, though, thatif the man had anticipated the near-coincidence of the two visits to the chamber of the sangraalhe would have seen to it that mallory had never gotten a chance to use his sir galahadsuit. returning to the control room, mallory sawthat the lumillusion panel had been pre-programmed to materialize the yore as a fifteenth-centuryenglish castle. apparently it had been in the books all along for him to become a fifteenth-centuryknight, just as it had been in the books all along for perfidion to become the proprietorof a misplaced hot-dog stand. mallory laughed. he had gotten the best ofthe bargain after all. at least there was no smog in the fifteenth century.

who was he supposed to be? he wondered. hadhis name gone down in history by any chance? abruptly he gasped. was he the sir thomasmalory with estates in northampshire and warwickshire? was he the sir thomas malory who had compiledand translated and written le morte d'arthur? almost nothing about the man's life was known,and probably the little that was known had been assumed. he could have popped up fromnowhere, made his fortune through foreknowledge, and been knighted. he could have been a reformedtime-thief stranded in the fifteenth century. but if he, mallory, was malory, how in theworld was he going to get five hundred chapters of semi-historical data together and passthem off as le morte d'arthur? suddenly he understood everything.

going over to where rowena was still standingin front of the telewindow, he said, "i'll bet you know no end of stories about the doingsof the knights of the table round." "la! sir thomas. ever i saw day of my lifei have heard naught else in the court of my father." "tell me," mallory said, "how did this roundtable business begin? or, better yet, how did the grail business begin? we can takeup the round table business later on." she thought for a moment. then, "list, fairsir, and i will say ye: at the vigil of pentecost, when all the fellowship of the round tablewere come unto camelot and there heard their service, and the tables were set ready tothe meat, right so entered into the hall a

full fair gentlewoman on horseback, that hadridden full fast, for her horse was all besweated. then she there alit, and came before the kingand saluted him; and he said: damosel, god thee bless. sir, said she, for god's sakesay me where sir launcelot is. yonder ye may see him, said the king. then she went untolauncelot and said: sir launcelot, i salute you on king pelles' behalf, and i requireyou to come on with me hereby into a forest. then sir launcelot asked her with whom shedwelled. i dwell, said she, with king pelles. what will ye with me? said launcelot. ye shallknow, said she, when ye—" "that'll do for now," mallory interrupted."we'll come back to it as soon as i get stocked up on paper and ink. scheherazade," he added.

"scheherazade, sir thomas? i wot not—" he leaned down and kissed her. "there's noneed for you to wot," he said. probably, he reflected, he would have to do a certain amountof research in order to record the happenings that had ensued his and rowena's departure,and undoubtedly said research would result ironically in the recording of the true visitsof sirs galahad and launcelot to the chamber of the sangraal—the "time-slots" on whichhe and perfidion had gambled and lost their shirts. the main body of the work, however,had been deposited virtually on his lap, and its style and flavor had been arbitrarilydetermined. moreover, contrary to what history would later maintain, the job would not bedone in prison, but right here in the "castle

of yore" with rowena sitting—and dictating—besidehim. as for the impossibility of giving a sixth-century damosel as his major source,that could be avoided—as in one sense it already had been—my making frequent allusionsto imaginary french sources. and as for the main obstacle to the endeavor—his twenty-secondcentury cynicism—that had been obviated during his encounter with sir galahad. the book wouldn't be published till 1485,but just the same, he was keen to get started on it. writing it should be fun. which remindedhim: "i know we haven't known each other very long in one sense, rowena," he said, "butin another, we've known each other for almost nine hundred years. will you marry me?"

she blinked once. then her plum-blue eyesshowed how truly blue they could become and she threw her arms around his gorget. "witye well, sir thomas," said she, "that there is nothing in the world but i would leverdo than be thy bride!" thus did the prose epic known successivelyas "la mort d'arthur," the most ancient and famous history of the renowned prince arthur,king of britaine, as also, all the noble acts, and heroicke deeds of his valiant knightsof the round table, and "le morte d'arthur" come to be recorded.