"The Lord Rick has brought victories," Dughuilas's companion said. "Victory over Rome-"

"A mockery," Dughuilas said. "What matters victory at the price of all we hold dear? Lord Rick makes knights of crofters and peasants. They obey their chiefs not at all."

"It will become worse," the second man said. "It is this 'University' that spawns your troubles. It is from there that these dangerous ideas come. This place is important to Lord Rick. Harm that, and he will know of the anger of the knights."

"If we wish to injure the University, I can give some aid," said Corgarff. "A smith's boy from my land works there. I have heard that his father has not long to live, and he fears his mother and sister will want. Only a little gold could buy him, I think."

"Is he fit for any work we might give him?"

"As fit as anyone of such blood can be."

"The Lord Rick would not have said that," said the second man.

"Hang the Lord Rick!" snarled Dughuilas.

"As Yatar wills," said the second man quietly. "But I think he is more likely to hang us, if we cannot use whatever tools come our way."

Dughuilas nodded sourly. "Och, aye. But a man of the old blood must keep watch on this peasant lad. You, Corgarff."

"Aye, Chieftain." He paused a moment. "Perhaps there is a way. One hears that the University prepares a new machine. They say it will fly through the air! That men may fly as gulls!"

"Och!" Dughuilas stared in wonder. "Can this be true? Then woe to our enemies, when warriors can fly-"

"And when they do, your order is finished. What need of knights then?" Dughuilas's companion asked.

"Och. Aye, it is so," Dughuilas said. "The Lord Rick will raise up peasants, while the men of blood fall. This must not be."

Corgarff nodded grimly. "I had not thought-but it is true enough. Already the University is guarded by the sons of crofters. Even freedmen. Freedmen with arms! But hear. In the past, when a new machine is prepared, the University is open to all who wish to come and watch. The Lord Rick does not seem to care who learns his secrets."

"He is a fool," said Dughuilas.

"One wonders," said the second man. "Perhaps he plays a game too deep for our understanding. Surely we would be fools if we did not reckon on that."

"Fools we are not," Dughuilas said. "And our cause is just. Lord Rick would destroy all we ever lived for. It is our right to oppose him. Let us destroy this University, and all its arts, forever and aye. Swear it!"

The three stood. "We swear," they said in unison. Then they raised their glasses, drained them, and dashed them to the floor.

The University was located in a town at the northwestern border of Tamaerthon. The place had been noted for its medicinal springs, and had long boasted a small temple of Yatar where acolytes came for training; a natural place for a center of learning, but open and vulnerable.

Rick had the town's defenses repaired, and now a proper city wall was under construction. There were also a mortar and a light machine gun. It wasn't likely that the University would fall to an enemy.

Larry Warner locked the armory door and returned the salutes of the archers who stood outside it. He was going to his quarters when he heard a call for the proctor on duty. Warner immediately changed his plans and headed for the gate area. He arrived to see a small caravan ride up.

"Who comes?" a local guardsman called.

"Sergeant Major Elliot."

Holy shit, that's who it was all right. With a pretty big crew, too. Damn, Warner thought. With Gwen Tremaine gone off on embassy duty, Warner had been senior man present. He rather liked being in charge. Now here was Elliot. Crap.

"Let Sergeant Major in," Warner commanded. Maybe I ought to keep him out-that's too silly to think about. What do I do, set up as some kind of king here? Stupid. "And ask him to join me in my quarters after he has been shown to the Visiting Officers' Quarters."

"Ho, Sarge, what brings you here?"

"Cap'n sent me down south," Elliot said. "Buyin' some of that garta cloth you like. Brought you a whole mess of it."

"Hey. That's all right." Rick Galloway had been pleased with the balloon idea when Warner described it back at Castle Edron. The problem had been the cloth, which could only come from the south, and Warner had been afraid he would be sent there to buy some. Instead, Rick sent Warner and the two new troopers back to the University, where for two ten-days Warner had enjoyed being in charge. "Have to get to work on the balloon, then."

Elliot nodded in agreement. "I brought orders on that. Cap'n wants a test model in a ten-day."

"Can't do it."

"You can try!"

"Sarge, I'll do my goddam best, but nobody is going to sew up that thing in a ten-day! You got any idea how big that sucker is?"

"No-"

"It's big. Take that from me. Uh-Sarge, why are you here?"

"Captain's orders. I'm the new Provost for the University."

"You?"

"Yeah. Show you the written orders tomorrow."

"Shit. And where do I fit in?"

"Hell, Professor, I treat you like a civilian. You're my boss-so long as it's not a military situation. Comes a military situation, you're back in uniform. Like a weekend warrior. It's all in the orders."

"Oh." That's not bad. Not bad at all. Makes good sense. Elliot was Parsons's man. Killed a lot of Drantos soldiers while he was working for Parsons. Must be a ton of nobles who'd like to even the score for their relatives. Blood-feuds and all that. Makes sense to get Sergeant Major Elliot out of Drantos, and God knows the University's important enough.

"I'm also supposed to help you with the bookkeeping," Elliot said. "For the travellin' medicine shows." He frowned heavily. "Do those things do any good, Professor?"

"Sure. Look, we send out a merc and a couple of local warriors and some junior priests of Yatar. They go out and make maps and get a resource survey. That's worth it all alone-Sarge, the maps here are really something else! Most of 'em have their own country bigger'n the Roman Empire, for chrissake!

"But there's more to it. They go to the towns and teach hygiene. Germ theory of disease. Antiseptic practices."

"Does it work?"

"Yeah, sometimes," Warner said. "And sometimes not, I guess. Sometimes we get the old 'what was good enough for Granny' routine-"

"So you convert Granny," Elliot said.

"Right-o. Or we try to." He drank another glass of wine. "Sarge, I had a thought. The Captain likes you around him. Is he going to base his Roman expedition out of here?"

"He may have to."

"Crap."

"You don't like that?"

"Don't like this place mixed up with war," Warner said. "Yeah, I know how that sounds, coming from me, but it's true."

"Funny, I agree with you," Elliot said. "More to the point, I think the Captain does too. But what else has he got? Anyplace else is controlled by the local lords-Larry, why do the lords hate Captain Galloway so much?"

"I would too," Warner said. "Lord Rick comes in and makes his pikemen and archers more effective than the knights, pretty soon the troops are going to wonder what it is the heavy cavalrymen do that makes them so important. It's a good question, too."

"How bad is it?"

"Bad enough that Captain Galloway had better wear armor any time he's got Tamaerthan lords around," Warner said. "Bad enough that you and I ought to keep lookin' over our shoulders, too."

"Yeah. All right, I'll do just that. Hey, have you got a drink? It's hot work, riding up these hill paths."

"Sure." Warner clapped his hands and a girl about eighteen years old came in. "Sara. Cold beer, please. Thank you-"

"She's a looker."

"Want to borrow her?"

"Hooker?"

"Naw, slave," Warner said. "Yeah, I know, the Captain doesn't approve of slavery. I liberated her, Sarge, but she won't leave. Where would she go? One day a freedman will marry her, I expect, but meanwhile she works here and she likes working for star-men-"