“Completely private.” He moved closer to her. “And look at the view.” He stood behind her and extended one arm over her shoulder to point out the sights. “There’s the river, and there’s the town over there, you see?” Somehow it was completely natural that Llewllyn’s other arm fell around Anna’s waist.
“Are you sure we’ll be all right?” she asked wide-eyed.
“Never fear,” Llewllyn said. “I am here to protect you.”
“Oh, Llewllyn,” she whispered softly.
He drew her to him and held her in his arms. “You know I would give my last drop of heart’s blood for you. I love you more than life itself.”
“Oh, Llewllyn.”
Anna’s eyes were dewy and her lips soft and partly open. Llewllyn bent forward to kiss her.
A shadow passed before the sun.
Anna’s eyes grew round and she went rigid in Llewllyn’s arms. The wizard wasn’t used to getting that kind of response so it took him a second to realize she was looking over his shoulder and not at him. He turned around in time to see a dragon settle down among the crags below them.
Peering around a rock Llewllyn could see the dragon, or part of it, nestled among the rocks below them. It had curled up, blocking the trail.
Anna shrank back against him, cowering in his arms. Llewllyn clasped her tightly to stop his own trembling.
“Be brave, my beloved,” he said to her. “I will protect you.” She made no sound but clung to him more tightly.
Llewllyn’s first instinct was to sneak away. But he knew this place well enough to know there wasn’t anyplace to sneak to from here. The only way out was the trail they had come up. They could stay where they were, but sooner or later the dragon was sure to see or smell them. There really wasn’t anything else to do, he decided. Especially not with the girl here.
“I will face the monster.”
Anna turned even paler. “Oh, but you can’t. You’ll be killed.”
The wizard took her in his arms. “If I am it will be in a good cause. I will gladly offer up my last drop of heart’s blood to save you.”
“Oh, be careful,” Anna breathed. “Come back to me.”
He patted her cheek. “Never fear my darling. All will be well.”
A quick peek around the rocks showed the dragon was lying down and couldn’t see the trail. Llewllyn took a deep breath and moved toward the dragon, dodging from boulder to boulder and sometimes crawling on his belly.
His first thought was that he might be able to find another way down the rocks. Or perhaps, if the dragon was truly asleep, they could sneak by it. By the time he reached the place where the dragon rested he knew both hopes were in vain. The rocks were much too steep and while he could hear the dragon breathing regularly, it was obviously not asleep.
Llewllyn stopped and thought hard. He had scant experience with dragons. But he knew Wiz had handled one by talking to it and if there was one thing Llewllyn was confident of, it was his ability to talk.
No help for it, really, he told himself. Then he stood up, straightened his tunic, brushed the grass out of his blond hair and squared his shoulders. It never hurt to make an impressive entrance.
In fact, he realized, he had a spell of his master’s to make the entrance even more impressive. All the trumpets might even make the dragon think he had an army behind him.
fanfare exe! he whispered. Then he took a deep breath and opened his mouth to go forth and do battle with the dragon.
The dragon, meanwhile, was mostly interested in getting a nice nap. He had fed that morning on a dozen or so sheep at an outlying farmstead and taken light exercise by flying a few dozen leagues. Now he was ready to settle down and digest his meal. The rocks were nicely warm from the sun and the scenery suited his dragonish nature.
He was just relaxing into gentle slumber when the blare of trumpets yanked him awake.
The dragon’s head jerked up and he roared in surprise and anger. A lance of flame shot from his jaws directed at nothing in particular but passing over the rock behind which Llewllyn waited. The bard was unharmed but the blast of superheated air cost him what little courage he had remaining.
Unfortunately, when Llewllyn became frightened he stuttered uncontrollably. Every time he tried to get a syllable out it touched off another peal of trumpets. The rocks rang and resounded with the noise of a trumpet fanfare played as a twenty-part round and the dragon’s head darted this way and that seeking the source of his torment.
Finally it was too much. With a roar of frustration the dragon leapt into the sky to try to find a quieter place for his nap.
Llewllyn was still watching the dragon go when Anna came running down the trail and into his arms.
“You’re all right! I saw the fire and the dragon, and I was afraid.” She stopped with her eyes even wider as the significance sank in. “You did it,” Anna breathed. “You defeated a dragon.”
Llewllyn opened his mouth to say something modest but the trumpet fanfare cut him off.
Anna’s eyes grew even wider. “Oh, you are a mighty wizard! And my hero.” Llewllyn just smiled and held Anna tighter. Occasionally, given enough hints, he did know when to shut up.
Winging away from the rocks the dragon came to a somewhat different conclusion. A pretty pass indeed when you can’t even take a nap without being disturbed by these pesky humans and their stupid magical jokes, he thought. I’m going to have to do something about them. And this new wizard of theirs.
Twenty-two: Dragon Trouble
The Consultant’s Three Rules of Crisis Management:
1) When Life Hands You A Lemon, Make Lemonade.
2) When Life Hands You A Hemlock, Don’t Make Hemlock-ade.
2a) Always Know The Difference Between A Lemon and A Hemlock.
The Consultants’ Handbook
“ . . . and then the dragon flew away,” Anna told Wiz and Malkin, her blue eyes round as saucers. “And we were saved!”
“Oh, it was nothing really,” Llewllyn said modestly from where he stood at her side, his hand resting on her shoulder. Anna reached up and placed her hand over his. Then she beamed up at her savior.
Wiz and Malkin exchanged glances and then stared down at their plates and the remains of dinner. Obviously both of them thought that for once Llewllyn’s description of events was more accurate than Anna’s.
The pair had been through the incident three times and Wiz still wasn’t completely sure what had happened. For one thing, the story had grown with each retelling. For another he trusted neither Llewllyn’s veracity nor Anna’s powers of observation. He was reasonably certain there had been a dragon involved and that the dragon had flown away, perhaps in response to something Llewllyn had done. He suspected from Anna’s description of the sound of trumpets that his fanfare spell had been involved as well. Beyond that, he wasn’t willing to speculate-except about the reason for the grass stains on the blanket and the dried grass in Anna’s hair and the flush on the girl’s cheeks.
Obviously something more was called for, so Wiz tried. “Well, I’m glad you’re safe.”
Anna sighed. “I owe it all to Llewllyn. Isn’t he wonderful?”
Malkin kept her eyes on her plate.
“Quite remarkable,” Wiz said dryly, rising from the table. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” Like trying to keep my dinner down, he thought as he headed up the stairs.
Since Llewllyn had developed the habit of cadging meals with them the scene was repeated at lunch the next day.
Since the mayor had summoned Wiz to discuss the fanfare spell, the scene was prolonged because Llewllyn insisted on accompanying him to the town hall. The young man paused several times to ostentatiously greet important people, keeping Wiz close so he could bask in his reflected glory. Somehow he managed to work the fact that he had defeated a dragon into each conversation, so Wiz had to listen to more or less the same story three or four more times. By the time they reached the street that led to the main square Wiz was thoroughly fed up with his assistant.
“You know that what you did was stupid,” Wiz told him finally. “I mean terminally stupid. Why didn’t you just wait for the dragon to leave?”
“Were I by myself I might have,” Llewllyn admitted with a disarming smile.
“But Anna was there.”
“So you risked her life as well as your own to impress her.”
“No, to protect her. Better for me to face near-certain death at the fangs and claws of a dragon than for anything to happen to her. Were I slain perhaps the monster would be satisfied and not look further among the rocks.”
“Still it was stupid.”
Llewllyn nodded, as if to show he was too well bred to argue with his employer. “Perhaps, My Lord. I can only say that love makes a man do strange and wonderful things.”
Wiz snorted.
“But I do love her,” Llewllyn proclaimed. “Why, I would shed my last drop of heart’s blood for her.”
“Yeah, but will you marry her?”
“Of course, My Lord, in due time. Do you doubt me?”
“Your record in that department isn’t exactly sterling,” Wiz said as they turned the corner into the main square.
“Ah, but I was young and callow then, a mere stripling. You see before you not a boy, but a man full-grown, a man redeemed by love.”
Wiz thought that what he saw before him was a pompous windbag and he was about to say something to that effect. But just then the world stuttered.
One instant Llewllyn was beside him and the next he was in front and staring open-mouthed. Everyone was running and screaming and there was dust in the air that hadn’t been there before.
Wiz started to ask what had happened. Then he saw the brick. No, not a brick, a piece of worked stone. Like part of a cornice. It was lying in the street behind Llewllyn, surrounded by the dust it had raised when it fell. There were several other pieces of freshly broken stone nearby. Looking up he could see that a big chunk of the stonework on the building was missing.
Wiz looked back and saw Llewllyn had progressed to working his jaws, but not far enough to actually make noise. He also saw they had drawn a crowd.
“It, it, it . . . bounced,” Llewllyn finally managed. “It just hit you and it split to pieces and it bounced right off the top of your head.”
Looking around, Wiz saw that several councilors and the sheriff had joined the excited group.
“Think nothing of it,” he said over the rising buzz of conversation. “As a great wizard I am protected by a spell that renders me invulnerable to mortal danger.” The conversation grew even louder.
“But you froze. Like a statue,” his assistant said.
Wiz had been hoping no one would notice that. “A side effect,” he said with a wave of his hand. “So long as the danger lasts I am immobile and invulnerable. Now come. Let us be on our way.”
Maybe that will stop people from trying to terminate my contract with extreme prejudice, he thought as the crowd parted before them. At least it might if I can find someplace to sit down before I get the shakes.
Wiz didn’t see the bald little man with the leather sack of mason’s tools lounging at the edge of the crowd and wouldn’t have recognized him if he had. Nor would he have attached any special importance to the thoughtful way he rubbed his chin as Wiz and Llewllyn proceeded on their way.
Having a piece of rock dumped on his head may not have hurt Wiz physically, but it sure didn’t do anything for his mood. Between Llewllyn’s bragging, the mayor’s insistence on having the new spell before the next executive committee meeting and being sneered at by Pieter Halder on the town hall steps, he was in a foul mood when he got home that evening.
Anna, however, was still starry-eyed and bubbling. For once Llewllyn wasn’t hanging around, so Wiz was spared that, but the maid’s innocent prattling about the wonders of her true love was just as hard to take.
“ . . . and someday we’ll be married,” the maid finished up her latest, albeit short, line of thought.
“You hope,” Wiz said in an undertone, unable to contain himself further.
Not enough of an undertone, unfortunately. “Why of course we will,” Anna said innocently.
“Look Anna, I don’t mean to burst your bubble or anything, but are you sure Llewllyn is the marrying kind?”
“My bubble?” Anna said blankly.
“A figure of speech. I mean your illusions about Llewllyn.” As soon as he said it, he knew it was the wrong thing to say, but by then it was too late.
“But they’re not illusions. They’re real. As real as Llewllyn’s magic that saved me from the dragon!”
“Uh, yeah, his magic is another thing. I mean . . .”
“Oh, I know what you mean,” Anna burst out. “You’re jealous of Llewllyn’s powers and I think you’re awful!” Then she remembered she was talking to her employer and dashed from the room in a flood of tears.
Wiz watched her go and turned back to his tea. “Women!” he snorted.
“Men!” Malkin retorted. “Well, that was nicely done. What do you intend for an encore? Pull the wings off flies?”
“Now wait a minute. You’re the one who brought up the dull butter knife.”
“Aye, and I would too. But that doesn’t excuse being cruel to the child. That was cruel and all it’s likely to accomplish is driving them closer together.”
“Little trollop’s right,” Widder Hackett chimed in. “All you did was hurt her feelings.”
“But I was trying to let her down easy. To help her.”
“By making her miserable?” Malkin replied.
“Help her my left foot,” Widder Hackett grated. “Of all the shoddy, ill-done . . .” There was a lot more.
Wiz looked to either side at the women, one visible and now silent, one invisible and just working up a good head of steam.
“All right have it your way,” he snapped. “I’m a miserable failure as a human being. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some air.” With that he stormed out of the kitchen with Widder Hackett still railing in his ear.
Wiz stood on the stoop for an instant, looking out along the dark street. There were no street lights and the moon was only half-full. There wasn’t so much as a candle showing in a window, which made the street gloomy and forbidding. It was as if the houses were bombed out and abandoned, he thought. Somewhere several streets over a dog howled, adding to the effect.
He turned and started away from the square, head down and lost in thought.
The truth was, he did feel bad about making Anna cry. But dammit! The girl was his responsibility and he couldn’t let her get too mixed up with someone like Llewllyn.
The other truth was he didn’t want the responsibility, he admitted as he picked his way along the dark, deserted way. In fact he didn’t want any of the responsibilities he had acquired since he got here. Yet he was stuck with them and he was juggling like a madman trying to meet them. That was one of the reasons he’d been so hard on Anna.
Ever since he got here he had been writing checks furiously. Sooner or later some of them were going to come due and he was way overdrawn at the luck bank.
It wasn’t just that, this wasn’t fun any more. In the beginning this had all been a big game, but now the joke was old and not particularly funny.
He couldn’t even take pride in his job, like he could writing a good tight module of code in something like COBOL. At heart he just wasn’t a con man and playing the role was taking its toll on him. He sucked a breath of the cold night air and sighed gustily. This wasn’t working out at all the way he had anticipated.
He was cold and tired and frustrated and a little scared and more than anything else he just wanted to go home.
Wiz never even saw the shadow that separated itself from the wall as he passed. And he never heard the hiss of the blade through the air. The edge landed squarely across his shoulders and as he froze into immobility a sharp whistle rang out from the darkness from whence the shadow had come.
“Ow!” said the shadow. “My wrist.”
“I told you not to hit him, didn’t I?” retorted a second cloaked man as he emerged from the darkness. He was shorter and for an instant a moonbeam gleamed off his dark pate. “Just tickle him in the ribs, I said. But no, you have to take a mucking great whack at him.”
There was a rattling on the cobblestones just around the corner.
“Here comes the cart,” said the first one. “Let’s get this business over with.”
Heaving and straining the three men loaded Wiz’s immobile form into the cart. The spell didn’t increase Wiz’s weight, but it did do funny things to his inertia. The footpads found they could only move him slowly and that made him seem even heavier. It didn’t help that one of them had to keep his sword pressed against Wiz at all times lest the spell break. That left two of them to do most of the work, including burying the frozen wizard under the turnips that made up two-thirds of the cart’s load.
It was not a quiet business, especially since all three men had a tendency to curse and mutter at every little bit of work. But not a shutter banged open nor even a light showed at a window, as if these kinds of goings-on were commonplace here.
Finally, with Wiz stowed and covered, the pair mounted the cart and rattled off in the night, leaving the occasional turnip behind to mark their passage.
A few minutes jolting over cobblestones brought them to the city’s west gate. It was lit by flaming torches on either side and before it stood a representative of the city’s guard. He was tall, gangly, wearing a steel cap and leather-covered jack. In the crook of his bony arm he carried a halberd that had definitely seen better days.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
“Out to my granny’s,” said the tall one. The medium-sized one next to him nodded vigorously and the short one sat twisted on the seat to keep his knife on Wiz’s throat under the pile of turnips.
“At this time of night?”
“We had to finish work,” the tall one said. “Then we had to eat dinner and harness the cart and load it, and . . .”
The guard peered past the driver. “What have you got in there?”
“Uh, turnips.”
“Why are you taking turnips out of the city?” he demanded.
“Granny lost her entire turnip crop,” the tall man said smoothly. “Weevils got them, they did.”
“Turnip weevils,” added the driver helpfully. “Terrible things, turnip weevils.” His companion, who recognized lily-gilding when he heard it, poked him in the ribs to shut up.
The guard had never heard of turnip weevils, but then he was a city boy. More importantly perhaps, in this city the best and brightest did not become city guardsmen and out of that lot, the best and brightest of the not-so-good and not-so-smart weren’t assigned to gate duty after curfew. Still, this was irregular and he had the reputation of the city guard to uphold.
“What’s the rest of that stuff?”
“Building supplies. We’re going to make some repairs on her cottage while we’re about it.”
“Fixing the fireplace,” the man in the back added helpfully.
“It’s after curfew. You won’t be able to get back in until morning.”
“That’s all right. We’ll stay at my granny’s.”
The guard still thought the whole thing was extremely fishy, but his orders were more about people and things coming into the city than people and things going out.
“All right. Pass on then. But I’m going to remember the lot of you.”
“Well?” said the tall one at last.
“Well what?” the guard replied.
“Aren’t you going to open the gate?”
“If you want the gate opened do it yourself. There’s three of you.”
The driver started to protest, thought better of it and nudged his companion to get down off the seat.
“Takes two to manage. Can you at least help him?”