Godwin just then gave a cry of pleasure. He had spied his broadsword in its leather sheath, hanging on the wall above Mufaddal's inert form like a trophy, together with his Saracen helmet and kite-shaped shield and his curved Persian dagger. He bounded across and tore them down.
"A chap may be given the lineaments of a gorgon," he said, buckling the sword around his waist and clapping the helmet atop his round animal's head, "but he still seems naked without his weapons. By heaven, I feel better already! Now, Pepi, the method."
"Well, look, O Superb and Generous Prince," stammered the sorcerer, "I think I might work it with a carpet."
"I fail to see your point, sirrah."
"A flying carpet, O—"
"Never mind the O's. What's a flying carpet?"
"Not a very hard trick, really. You get on a carpet and say a certain incantation, and you're flying."
"How fast?"
"As fast as you will it."