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shuddering breath. "But of course. We only had one child then, and we have four now—and Magnus is twelve." He studied her face intently.
    "You don't look any older."
    She blushed, lowering her eyes. "'Tis good of thee to say it, my lord—yet I do see the wrinkles, here and there, and the odd strand of gray in mine hair."
    "What's odd about it, with our four? But they certainly must be rare; I haven't noticed one yet! And as to wrinkles, I've always had my share of those."

THE WARLOCK WANDERING 37
    "Yet thou art not a woman," Gwen murmured.
    "So sweet of you to notice... But back to the ins and outs of this world we're on. Government wasn't exactly the kind of 'power' I'd had in mind, dear."
    "Indeed?" She looked up, surprised. "Yet assuredly thou didst not speak of magicks!"
    "No, no. Definitely not. I was talking about force—the kind that makes things move."
    Gwen frowned, not understanding.
    Rod took a deep breath. "Look. In Gramarye, there are four kinds of power that can do work for us: muscles, our own or our animals'; wind, which pushes ships and turns windmills; water power, which turns mill wheels; and fire, which heats our houses, boils our water, and cooks our food. And that's about all."
    Gwen frowned. "But what of the power of a crossbow, that speeds a bolt to slay a man?"
    Rod shook his head. "Just muscle power, stored. When a crossbowman pulls a bowstring, see, he's just transferring power from his arm and shoulder into the springy wood of the bow. But the crossbowman takes several minutes to put that power in, by winding the bowstring back. Then, when he pulls the trigger that releases the string, all that energy is released in one quick burst—and that's what throws the arrow so much harder than an ordinary bow can." Gwen nodded slowly, following every word. "And 'tis thus, too, that a common archer's bow can throw an arrow so much farther than a man-at-arms can hurl a spear?"
    "Why, yes." Rod sat up straighter, surprised at how quickly she had understood. "Of course, the arrow's lighter than the spear, too. That helps."
    Gwen frowned. "And 'tis also that the ends of the bow are longer than the spearman's arms, is't not? For I do note that the longer (he bow, the farther it doth hurl the arrow."
    "Why... yes," Rod said, startled. "The longer the lever, the more it multiplies the force—and the two ends of a bow, and a spearman's arm, are all levers." 38
    Christopher Stasheff

THE WARLOCK WANDERING
    39
    "And the longer bow can therefore be stiffer, but can still be bent?"
    "Uh... yeah." Rod felt a faint chill along his back. She was understanding too quickly. "And the crossbow is more powerful, because it's so much stiffer."
    "But the man who doth shoot it, can bend it by winding." Gwen nodded, seeming almost angry in the intensity of her concentration.
    "Right." Rod swallowed heavily. "Well. Uh... in this world, there're other sources of power—but the most important one is the kind called 'electricity.' It's like..." He groped, trying to find an explanation. "It's invisible, but it flows like water. Only through metals, though. It's..." Then inspiration struck. "It's like the force you wield when you make things move with your mind." He waved a hand.
    "Even though you can't see it, you can feel it, if you touch the wire it's flowing through. Boy, can you feel it!" He frowned. "Though I shouldn't say you can't see it, really. Have you ever looked at a lightning bolt, darling? No, of course you have! What's the matter with me?" He could remember one occasion especially vividly—they had huddled inside a cave, watching the lightning slam the thunder about the skies. And when the storm's fury had thoroughly dazzled them... He cleared his throat. "Lightning's electricity—one kind of electricity, anyway."
    "Thou dost not say it," she breathed, wide-eyed. "Have these people chained the lightning, then?"
    Rod nodded, thrilled (and chilled) by her quickness.
    "They've figured out how to make it do all sorts