Rhiannon - Dragonrider

Chapter Twenty - The Gatehouse Roof

"I could do without most of the rubbish," I answered, wincing as I stretched my right arm behind my head, "but there's something really special about working with the swords... even though they're really heavy and can be a bit tricky to control... and I just love the flying!."

"Flight is wonderful, isn't it?" he said wistfully. "I do miss it. However, should I continue to dine as amply as of late, my capacities in that particular domain will soon be completely restored?"

"Ah, you're just here to beg for more food, are you?"

"It was merely intended to be a social call," Psion responded in his most affronted tone. "And I was also wondering whether I could provide you with any form of assistance. However it would appear..." he drew himself up in mock outrage, "my presence is unwelcome!"

I just grinned.

He tried to keep his affronted thing going but couldn't manage it for long.

"Incidentally, may I congratulate you on the alacrity with which you raised your shield – though it was, on this occasion, unnecessary. I take it you've been practicing."

"When I get the chance. It's not exactly a holiday camp here, particularly for us tyros."

The funny little dragon did his bubbly cloud thing. "This may be an apposite moment to introduce you to a more sophisticated shield that you should be able to maintain at all times," he told me.

"What? Even when I'm asleep?"

"Particularly when you are sleeping for that is when victims are at their most vulnerable... and, consequently, it is then that the vast majority of underhand attacks take place. I could imagine some rival of Rhiannas's... or more likely one of their underlings... seeking to disadvantage him by some covert attack on you."

"That's the sort of thing that happens around here?"

"With a distressing regularity."

"Okay. It sounds like I might need one of these shields. How do I go about putting one up?"

I had to smile as I felt him drawing himself up into his professor's pose thing, with his tail mostly wound round his body but with its tip waving around for emphasis... but I listened very carefully. "You are, by now, completely familiar with the defensive blocks with which you construct your cerebral defences. However, these blocks also lend themselves to more sophisticated manipulation. They can be stretched into long, thin fibres so..." he popped a picture into my head... "then plaited into a much finer and more subtle form of protection."

As I was practicing, he went on, "Not only can this form of shield be maintained with minimal effort, both day and night, it has the further advantage that it is difficult to observe and, consequently, it may be used to conceal certain thoughts and sentiments from a master who might be expecting to receive his servant's unswerving loyalty and devotion." He paused significantly.

"Oh..." I said. "I'd not thought of that."

"I had consciously avoided drawing the matter to your attention," he replied, "for, to do so, would have had the effect of pushing those concerns to the surface of your mind and it would have been all too easy for Rhiannas to detect them. He could then breach your defences with brute force at which stage..." he paused dramatically, "the game would be up..."

He went quiet for a bit, deep in thought.

"And I simply could not bear to lose another mistress," he added at last, sort of half to himself.

He paused again so I took the chance to finish off my last few stretches as I practiced his woven tower thing. I could see what he meant about it needing less effort than the clunky one he'd taught me at first.