My Son, the Wizard

Chapter Seven

Matt blocked Luco’s swing and drove a fist into his belly. Luco grunted, folding, but pumped his fists at Matt’s abdomen anyway. Matt hunched, blocking some of the blows. Several got through, and they hurt, but his own fists had taken enough punch out of them to keep them from doing any damage. Choy and Liam closed in from the sides, and Luco shouted a curse as he swung a fist back for a hammer blow.

Matt chopped a short, vicious uppercut into Luco’s face.

As he fell back, Matt ducked a swing from Choy, lashed a kick at Liam, then came up pivoting to slam a punch at Choy, who blocked and counterpunched. Matt dodged enough to take it on his chest. The pain woke anger, but he caught Choy’s wrist and turned, catching his shirtfront, and bowed as he stuck his hip out. Choy knew the move, though, and leaped over, turning as he did… and slammed right into Liam.

Behind them, Gilbert shouted with delight, and Matt heard some very solid cracks as the cane did its work. The punks shouted in outrage.

Then Luco pushed himself to his feet, but he and Choy stepped back as Liam stepped in, grinning, numchuks whirling.

Matt leaped away, pulling a little stick of his own out from under his jacket… fourteen inches of polished, seasoned ash, an inch and a half thick.

Liam laughed and lashed out with the numchuks… but clumsily; it was clear he hadn’t taken lessons.

Matt swung his own stick, and the numchuks tangled around it. Matt pulled and kicked, and Liam stumbled past, then fell.

Someone hit his back, hard. He lurched forward, almost unable to breathe because of the pain, and swung about into Herm’s pumping fists. Matt ducked over, fists close to his face, blocking the punches, trying to time his countermove, if he could just pay attention through the pain as fists landed on his shoulders, his arms…

But the other four punks whooped and waded in. Pain exploded on the side of Matt’s head, in his kidneys, in his other side…

Then somebody roared, he heard a series of hollow knocks, and only Herm was there in front of him, staring over Matt’s head openmouthed. Matt uncoiled and slammed an uppercut into his jaw. Without a word, Herm fell.

Matt turned in time to see Gilbert flicking his cane against the side of Luco’s head, then whirling it to jab Choy in the stomach. Choy doubled over, and Gilbert swung the stick overhand. The hollow knock sounded again, and Choy slumped.

Matt stared at the wanna-be thugs. They were all on the ground, groaning or still. “They aren’t… ?”

“Dead? No. That is the virtue of a stick… it is harder to slay a man with it.”

Liam inched forward, reaching out for his fallen switchblade. Disdainfully, Gilbert kicked it away. Then he bent, picked it up, jabbed it in the crack between two slabs of concrete, and broke it off short. Liam pushed himself up to his elbows with a shout of protest that died as he saw the coldness in Gilbert’s eyes.

He shrank back down, speechless.

“Let us leave this heap of offal, Sir Matthew,” Gilbert said. “I do not think they shall trouble us again this night.”

“No, thanks to you. Let’s go.” Matt knew Liam was wondering what offal was.

“We’ll… we’ll call the cops on you!” Liam called.

“What are ‘cops’?” Gilbert asked.

“The Watch,” Matt told him.

Gilbert stared. “Footpads will call the Watch?”

“He’s carrying a lethal weapon!” Liam blustered.

Matt shook his head and turned away.

“The switchblade!” Liam shouted. “It’s got his fingerprints now!”

“It’s got yours, too,” Matt called back. “Go ahead and call the police.”

They went on down the block, ignoring Liam’s curses. “Well, Her Majesty was right again,” Matt admitted. “I did need help. Thanks, Sir Gilbert.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Matt would have felt a bit better if Gilbert hadn’t sounded quite so sincere.

They climbed the steps to the porch. Matt started to ring the doorbell, but remembered the problems of explaining to Gilbert and knocked instead.

The knight looked about him. “Truly a grand house, Sir Matthew! You are nobly born indeed!”

“Uh, nobody in this neighborhood is very rich, Gilbert,” Matt said sheepishly.

Gilbert stared.

“At least, they don’t think so,” Matt explained. “There are a lot of people who’re richer.”

The door opened, and Mama stood there in her apron, hair tied up in a kerchief, eyes red. Over her head, Matt saw Papa hefting boxes into a stack, his face grim. Matt’s heart sank.

Then Mama realized who was there. Her eyes went wide, and the gloom lifted. “Mateo!” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged. “So soon! What, did you forget something?”

“Yeah… you and Papa.” Matt grinned, hugging her, and carried her into the little hallway where he set her down.

Papa looked up in surprise. Then his grimness vanished and he came toward his son with his arms wide.

“So you couldn’t stay away, hey? Too late, though… dinner is over.” He embraced Matt, then held him away and looked up at Gilbert inquiringly.

“Uh, Mama and Papa, this is my friend, Gilbert,” Matt explained. “Gilbert, my mother and father, Jimena and Ramon Mantrell.”

“A pleasure, goodfolk.” Gilbert gave a little bow.

“As is ours,” Papa said, reaching out to shake Gilbert’s hand. The knight went along with the gesture, albeit awkwardly. “Jimena,” said Papa, “can’t we take something out of the refrigerator?”

“Uh, I’m afraid we don’t have time, Papa.” At his father’s frown, Matt explained, “We had a little run-in with the neighborhood gang, and they might call the cops.”

“Call the cops! Them?”

“Surely you did nothing wrong, Mateo,” his mother said anxiously.

“Just self-defense, but it’ll take an hour or two to prove it, and we don’t have that much leeway.” Matt bit his lip; his parents were proud people, and he had to phrase this just right. “Uh, Mama, Papa… I didn’t tell you all the news this afternoon.”

“Oh?” Papa frowned, braced for the bad stuff. “What else?”

“Good news,” Matt said, “but, uh… we were so locked away in our own little world that I didn’t know I could tell you about it.”

Gilbert frowned at him, puzzled. Well, Matt could explain it all to them later.

“I found the right girl,” he said in a rush.

“Oh, Mateo!” Mama cried with delight, and reached up to kiss him soundly on the cheek.

Papa’s eyes shone. He embraced his son, then held him at arm’s length, grinning. “I’m glad, I’m so glad! I was afraid she’d never come along! When is the wedding?”

“Well, we already have a house.” Matt was getting good at sidestepping questions. “We’d like you to come visit us.”

“We will, we will.” Papa’s smile slipped. “But first we have to… ” He waved at the stack of boxes and the stripped bookshelves.

“It looks like you’re moving out. Well, take it all along.”

“Oh?” Papa forced a weary smile. “Have you brought a moving van?”

“Isn’t one coming?”

Papa gestured with futility, tried to answer, then turned away.

“Even if we had money for the van, Mateo, we have no place to take the furniture,” Mama said softly.

“We can take only what will fit in the rental van, and keep at the motel.”

Matt turned somber. “You could declare bankruptcy.”

“We could have,” Mama agreed, “and Papa said to, but I knew it hurt him not to be able to pay his debts. We sold the house, and tomorrow we will rent the van and drive away with what we can. The Good Will will come to take what we leave.”

Matt frowned, looking out over the pile of boxes. “How much more do you have to pack?”

Now it was Mama who gestured with futility. “It is all here in the boxes, all that we cannot bear to leave … but the house, the garden, the memories… “

Tears filled her eyes. Matt said quickly, “Memories you can always take with you, Mama. I know it’s hard, but if you really have to go, then let’s go now.”

Papa looked up, frowning. “You brought a van?” Then he looked at Matt more closely. “You’re not surprised at any of this.”

“A neighbor told me,” Matt admitted.

Papa swore.

“What did she tell you?” Mama, at least, had no doubt about who.

“That the boys have harassed the store so badly your business went broke,” Matt said. Then he realized that he could take the offensive. He gave his father a look of hurt. “You should have told me, Papa.”

“It was not your fight,” Papa said stiffly.

“All your fights are my fights,” Matt retorted. “You taught me it should be that way with my friends. How much more with my parents?”

“I was being medieval,” Papa muttered.

“Yes, the medieval notion of keeping faith! How bad is it?”

Papa glanced at Mama; her look implored him, and he relented. “When I came home for lunch today, I had just finished closing up the store for good.”

“You knew that!” Matt accused his mother.

“We did not want you to worry,” she explained, then turned stubborn. “You might have dropped out of school!”

“But your visit was the perfect note to raise our spirits from defeat,” Papa said gently.

Matt wilted. “Okay, I’m an undutiful son not to have been checking up on you!” At least they didn’t know just how neglectful he had been.

“That doesn’t matter, Matt,” his father said softly. “Our problems are our own. You go build your life.”

“I will, but problems are for sharing… that’s another thing you taught me,” Matt said. “What does matter is that we can get you out of here.”

A siren wailed in the distance.

Gilbert looked up, tensed to fight. “What spirit is that?”

“No spirit, only an alarm,” Matt said quickly. “It’s the police coming… Liam did call them, the idiot!

And I’m sorry, Papa, Mama, but I can’t afford the delay!” He didn’t want to add that he might have a little trouble explaining Gilbert’s lack of identity cards. “Please, I’m going to have to ask you to take me on faith, no matter how crazy it may seem.”

Papa glanced at Mama. Their gaze held for a moment or two; then they turned back, nodding. “What harm can it do?” Mama asked.

“None,” Matt assured her. “Here, stand around your boxes and hold hands… Gilbert, you too!”

Frowning, Mama and Papa linked hands with them. Gilbert, of course, obeyed the Lord Wizard without an instant’s hesitation.

The siren wailed closer.

“Now, repeat after me,” Matt said.

“Lalinga wogreus maiwold reiger.”

Mama and Papa frowned, but repeated obediently,

“Lalinga wogreus maiwold reiger.”

“Athelstrigen marx alupta,”

Matt intoned.

Mama and Papa repeated, “Athelstrigen marx alupta… “

“Harleng krimorg barlow steiger,” Matt chanted.

“Harleng krimorg barlow steiger.”

Matt went on, repeating the words line by line until he’d finished the verse, then told them, “Again!”

He lined the verse out for them to repeat time after time, until they could recite it all the way through without him… giving him odd looks, but reciting.

The siren came closer and closer.

“Say it over and over, no matter what I say!” Matt told them. “Just keep chanting!”

They did as he asked, saying the words over and over. Then Mama’s eyes widened, and Matt knew the words were beginning to make sense to her.

Outside, the siren wailed to a stop. Orange and blue lights flickered through the windows. A car door slammed, and footsteps thudded on the outdoor stairs.

Matt threw back his head and called,

Then he called out, “All together, now!” and chanted the verse again, only this time, they all understood the words:

A fist pounded on the door.

“The words make sense!” Papa cried in delight… but he spoke in the language of Merovence, not America, and the world suddenly went crazy, tilting and spinning around them.

When it stilled, Mama slumped against Matt. He held her up, saying, “It’ll pass, it’s just disorientation…

Gilbert, how’re you doing?”

“Well enough,” the knight called back. “Come now, Goodman Mantrell, it is a sickening feeling, but bear up and it will pass… there!”

Matt glanced over and saw Papa still leaning on Gilbert’s shoulder, but straightening. “Thank you for your arm, Master Gilbert.”

“My honor.” But Gilbert looked a little nonplussed.

“He’s a knight, Papa,” Matt began, but Mama looked about her at the sun-filled space and let out a cry of amazement. “El Morro!”

Papa looked around, too. Matt took a quick glance, enough to be sure they were in the courtyard, Mama with him, Papa with Gilbert, their huge pile of boxes in between. A couple of knights and a dozen footmen were running toward them.

“I see the resemblance,” Papa told Mama, “but I do not think this is El Morro. It is a castle, though.”

“Not even a Spanish one, now that I look at the architecture,” Mama said, “but still, a real castle! How did we come here?”

“Magic, Mama.”

“Mateo, I have told you not to be superstitious!” Mama scolded.

“No, really… magic works here!” Matt opened his mouth to explain further, but Mama rushed on. “Why are those men dressed as knights, Mateo?”

“Because they are knights, Mama.” That was as much as Matt got out before the first of the guardsmen reached them. “Lord Wizard!” he panted, bowing. “Is anything amiss?”

His parents turned to him, eyes wide. “Lord Wizard?”

“That’s the government job I was telling you about,” Matt said lamely.

“Government job?” Papa fixed him with a gimlet stare. “Which government?”

“You have been wasting your time with those Renaissance Fair people again,” Mama accused.

The knights came panting up. “Sir Matthew! Is all well?”

” ‘Sir’?” Papa asked.

Mama clucked her tongue in criticism.

“Just fine, Sir Norton, thank you… now that we’re back,” Matt said. “Uh, could you detail a few men to guard this heap of luggage? I’d like to take my parents to meet their hostess.”

“Parents!” Sir Norton bowed, and Sir Cran followed suit. “We are honored to meet the illustrious parents of Her Majesty’s Wizard!”

“How gracious of you,” Mama said, with a warm smile. “We are honored to meet such gallant knights… are we not, Ramon?”

“Indeed we are.” Papa bowed, then said to Matt out of the corner of his mouth, “Definitely too much time on Renaissance festivals.”

Sir Cran said, “It will be our honor to guard your belongings.” He ‘gestured to the footmen, who formed a circle around the boxes.

“Thank you all,” Mama said, and gave them such a radiant look that half of them caught their breaths.

The other half were on the other side of the box-pile and didn’t see.

“Yes, thanks,” Matt said quickly, before Papa could begin to get jealous. “The mistress of the castle is this way, Mama, Papa.” They went in through the doors at the base of the keep. The guards at the inner door gave them cold stares until they recognized the Lord Wizard. Then they leaped to open the panel.

As they climbed the broad winding stairs set against the outer wall, Matt said softly to his father, “You know, I’d never realized it before, but Mama really is a beautiful woman, isn’t she?”

Papa grinned, looking very smug. “She is indeed, my son, and she grows more beautiful every day.”

“You were lucky.”

“I was,” Papa admitted, “though there was quite a bit of hard work in winning her.”

Matt didn’t doubt that Mama had made him sweat. He also didn’t doubt that she’d been in love with him from the moment she saw him. He might never have realized his mother was beautiful, but he had always known he would never be as handsome as his father.

They came out into the broad, carpeted upper hall, the grimness of its stone walls softened by glowing tapestries. Mama stared, but Matt didn’t give her time to think… he went straight to the solar. The guards looked up, then smiled as they saw him. One reached for the door, but Matt was there before him. He opened it and stepped in, ushering his parents with him.

Mama cried out in delight. “How lovely!”

“She certainly is,” Papa said.

Alisande looked up at them from a table strewn with parchment rolls. The sunlight through the tall windows turned her hair to gold, and the maroon gown set off her complexion perfectly. The simple golden band about her temples could have been a mere decoration.

Mama gave Papa a sharp elbow in the ribs. “I spoke of the room, husband!”

Papa looked around at the beamed ceiling, paneled walls, and tapestries. “You’re right, Jimena. It’s a lovely room!”

“And what a lovely girl!” Mama said, fairly beaming at Alisande.

“Mateo… who is this woman?”

“Uh… Mama, Papa… ” Matt took a deep breath. “There’s something else I haven’t told you.”

Mama recognized the tone and turned to him, frowning. “You’ve been a bad boy.”

“Very bad,” Matt admitted. “I didn’t invite you to my wedding.”

Both parents cried out in protest.

“I didn’t know how,” Matt explained. “I’ll make it clear later, but for now, believe me… this really is a different world, and I didn’t know how to call home.”

Mama looked up at Alisande with dawning realization. “Why do you tell us this now?”

“Because I’d like you to meet my bride.” Matt took a deep breath. “Mama, Papa… may I introduce you to my wife, Alisande?”

“His mother?” Alisande rose, eyes huge.

“Oh, my dear!” With her arms wide, Mama stepped up. Surprised, Alisande reached out… and the two women embraced.

“I think you got away with it this time,” Papa muttered to Matt, “but don’t let it happen again, okay?”

“Uh, there’s more,” Matt admitted.

“More?” Papa stared, then frowned, and the storm clouds gathered. “How long have you been wedded to this woman, anyway?”

“Three years,” Matt admitted.

“Three years!” Papa squawked, and Mama broke from Alisande to stare at Matt. “But we saw you last Easter, only a few weeks ago, and you said no word of having met her!”

“I hadn’t,” Matt told her. “It was only a few weeks for you, but it was… ” He winced. “… four years for me.”

“Four years!” Papa yelped. “How can that be?”

Mama turned, frowning. “And in all that time, you never thought to write to us?”

Matt chose the easier question. “I haven’t figured it out for sure, but I think time runs at different rates in our two universes… an hour in your neighborhood is a week or so here. Or it could be that whoever moves us between universes is plugging us in at whatever time he or it chooses.”

Mama let go of Alisande, frowning at her son. “You mean you didn’t know you could go home?”

“Didn’t know I could go, write, or call,” Matt said. “I just figured that out a little while ago… in fact, only two days, for me.”

“You have been gone from me for two weeks now, husband,” Alisande said.

Mama turned to stare at her, then said to Matt, “You have a very understanding wife.” To Alisande, she said, “You should scold him at least a little, my dear.”

Alisande gave her a smile, brightening, then turned to Matt, hands on her hips, and said, “How dare you be so long gone from me, Matthew!”

“Sorry, dear,” Matt said contritely. “Couldn’t be helped.”

“He had told me he needed to go to bring you to us,” Alisande explained.

“Our house!” Mama spun to the men, then reached out for Papa’s hand. “Our furniture, the neighbors, the closing!”

“We were going to walk away from it all anyway, my love,” Papa said gently. He turned to Matt. “We can send the lawyer a power of attorney, can’t we?”

“And some good-bye letters to the neighbors.” Matt nodded. “I set up a system yesterday.”

“We should do that right away,” Mama said.

“No rush.” Matt smiled. “A week here is an hour there.”

Mama looked startled, then relaxed and turned back to Alisande with a smile. “Well, we will find a place to stay, but it is early. We can talk for at least a few minutes.”

“You will stay with us,” Alisande said firmly. “I have already ordered a suite to be prepared for you.”

“We could not impose,” Papa began.

“Indeed you could not,” Alisande agreed, “even if you stayed here for the rest of your lives, as I hope you will. You are my parents too, now, and it will be my privilege to guest you.”

Mama stared. “Do you own this castle, dear?”

“In some measure,” Alisande allowed. “I have the use of it for my lifetime, at least.”

Matt was glad she didn’t mention the other half-dozen royal castles around the land.

A thin sound of crying came through the open door, growing louder.

Mama and Papa stared at Matt.