ht Rowena, but he would face
that when he came to it. Maybe he could drop her off a dozen years in
the future in a region far enough removed from Carbonek to ensure her
safety. He would see.

[Illustration]

At this point in his reflections he was jolted into alertness by the
sound of approaching hoofbeats. A moment later he heard a second set
of hoofbeats and knew that Mallory II had made his presence known.
Presently both sets crescendoed into staccato thunder as the two
"knights" came pounding toward each other, and not long afterward
there was a clank and a clatter as Mallory II went tumbling out of his
saddle and into the roadside weeds. Finally the single set of
hoofbeats took over again, and Mallory III saw a horse and rider
coming around the bend in the highway. He braced himself.

Before making his play, he waited till horse and rider were directly
opposite him; then he encephalopathed Easy Money to charge. "Sir
Launcelot" managed to get his shield up in time, but the maneuver did
him no good. Mallory's spearhead struck the shield dead center, and
"Sir Launcelot" went sailing out of his saddle to 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 was out
cold, but he was still breathing. Next, Mallory looked for the
Sangraal. Perfidion had concealed it somewhere, and apparently he had
done the job well. Since the armor could not have accommodated an
object of that size, the hiding place had to be somewhere on the body
of his horse. The horse was standing quietly beside Easy Money in the
middle of the 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 over to 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, wrapped in red samite, lay the cause of the
mounting absentee-rate in King Arthur's court.

Always the skeptic, Mallory raised a corner of the samite in order to
make certain that he was not being cheated. Instantly, a reflected ray
of moonlight stabbed upward into his eyes, and for a moment he was
blinded. Exorcising the thought that sneaked into his mind, he closed
the croup-hood, rearranged the trapp