The Dragon on The Border

by Gordon R. Dickson

  "Go on like that," said Lachlan dangerously, "and you'll have no nose to smell with. Did you pay no attention to the name of the man who holds you prisoner? It's Sir James Eckert—the Dragon Knight."

  Jim was completely unprepared for the result these words produced. MacDougall's composure fell apart.

  "The—Dragon Knight?" stammered MacDougall. "The… the sorcerer?"

  "MAGICIAN!" exploded Jim, suddenly unreasonably angry. "The next man that uses the word 'sorcerer' to me is going to wish he hadn't!"

  "Yes, yes, Sir James!" said MacDougall in a trembling voice. His face had gone as white as Alan's had been when his helmet had been taken off. "Of course, m'Lord Magician. I am your prisoner, of course. What is your will?"

  Jim thought quickly. He glanced back at the knot of de Mers still clustered around the fallen Alan. The MacDougall could not have got a close enough look at Herrac and his sons to know who they were, and the less he knew the better, if he was going to go on living. Jim turned back to Lachlan.

  "Lachlan," he said, "would you take m'Lord the Viscount here into your special care? We will be leaving this place as soon as all is ready. I don't see even the groom on his feet. Is he or any of the men-at-arms still alive but too hurt to travel?"

  "Nae more!" said Lachlan, with that fierce grin again. "I cut all their throats. With any luck it'll be thought a band of thieving cattle lifters robbed and slew in this place, when the bodies are found."

  Jim suppressed a shudder. It was the kind of butchery that was completely at odds with his twentieth-century nature; but it was the way things were done here. Any prisoners who were valuable, in terms of ransom or otherwise, you brought along. Any who had no particular worth were simply slain, since you had no provision for keeping them; and could not trust them if you did.

  "Very well, then," said Jim, again. "Keep m'Lord with you. I'll go forward and get the knight we've had standing guard upon him until now. Keep your prisoner well away from the rest of us. You understand?"

  He had referred to Christopher as a "knight" deliberately, to make MacDougall feel better about letting himself be held here. But it did not seem to cheer the other up visibly.

  "Was I born in the last hour?" said Lachlan disdainfully. "Weel, I understand!"

  "Good, then," said Jim, and left Lachlan and the MacDougall behind him while he walked forward to where Christopher sat his horse. Christopher did not move as Jim came directly up to him. Jim paused and laid a hand on the iron knee of the youth.

  "You did well, Christopher," he said in a low voice.

  "I didn't stir. Sir," boomed Christopher inside his helmet. "Just as Father said."

  "Keep your voice down," said Jim, still keeping his own tones low. "There's no reason why our prisoner in the golden surcoat behind us should know who any of us are besides Lachlan and myself. You're free of your duty now. Ride on back and join your father and your brothers around Alan. Tell him to send another one of you in armor, and with his visor down, to let me know when Alan's ready to ride."

  He thought of something just in time.

  "I mean really ready to ride, not just braving it out. His headache had better have much lessened, before he even tries to get onto his feet; and at any sign of dizziness he should lie down again. Then he's to ride at a walk; and others of you stay with him until he gets back to the castle. Then he's to be helped immediately to bed, and stay there. Those are my orders as a magician. Can you tell your father that, word for word?"

  "Word for word, Sir," said Christopher, in a lowered voice.

  Jim had no cause to doubt him. In this period when written messages were almost unknown, except in Latin, as penned by members of the religious establishment, most messages were verbal ones, which the messenger was trusted to carry and deliver without variation to the one who was ultimately supposed to hear it. It was necessary; and consequently most people could do it. Jim had little doubt that Christopher would be word-perfect, as he said, in repeating Jim's message to Herrac.

  "Very well, then," said Jim. "Further, tell your father that Lachlan and I, with our prisoner, will either follow or precede you by enough distance so there's no reason for the MacDougall to guess who you are. There's no point in bringing trouble upon Castle de Mer. In fact, Lachlan and I may well not return there; but camp out with the prisoner at least for one night and possibly more. We'll get in touch with Sir Herrac when the time comes. Meanwhile, he should see about whether his Borderers will gather and join forces with the Little Men, should I be able to get the Little Men to come into a fight on our side with all of the Hollow Men."

  "That, too, m'Lord," said Christopher. "I will most faithfully tell him."

  "Good," said Jim. "Now circle around through the trees and back to your father, and I'll walk back to get my horse. Then I and the MacDougall will remount our horses. Lachlan can get his clothes back on and also remount. Then I'll decide what the three of us will do."

  It was a good half-hour or more before Alan was actually able to be helped on his horse and ride. Meanwhile, Herrac's other sons had converted two of the horses of the dead men-at-arms into beasts of burden for the chests of gold the packhorses had been carrying; before they had run off after Lachlan had ducked beneath them and cut their girths.

  Also, meanwhile, Lachlan himself had gone back in the woods, regained his clothing and weapons and mounted to rejoin Jim with MacDougall; who had apparently been too afraid of Jim all this time to attempt to make any kind of conversation.

  Jim was just as glad not to be talked to for a few minutes. He was busily thinking of what should be done next. He must first get away on his own and he must contact the wolf Snorrl. Also Liseth—no one else but Liseth could lead him to the Little Men—so that he could ask their help in fighting with the Borderers in the final battle with the Hollow Men.

  He suspected that Lachlan would not take too cheerfully to the idea of mounting guard on the prisoner alone, while Jim was gone for several days. Lachlan was much too likely to slip his poignard between the other's ribs and save himself any further bother with the man they had captured.

  These were not easy questions to answer. Lachlan would take orders only to a degree; in no sense with the obedience of Herrac's sons—and even Herrac, himself.

  About one thing Jim was determined. They would not go back to the castle. He would have to think of how to break the news of this to Lachlan. Luckily, he had a little time before that would become necessary. They would have to follow Herrac and his sons for some distance back toward the castle before parting ways with them, in any case. When they at last did so, it would be time enough to let the Scotsman know that they were not going all the way. Lachlan could well not be pleased at the prospect of probably spending several days in the woods with their prisoner.

  But for now, he, Lachlan, with MacDougall, back on their horses, merely moved off into the woods to let Herrac and his sons ride back past them down the track that Jim still thought of as a trail, then followed. This, they did.

  Lachlan, Jim assumed, would be in agreement with the idea of keeping MacDougall in ignorance of who besides Jim and himself had slain MacDougall's guard and taken the gold with which he had been sent to bribe the Hollow Men. Consequently Lachlan said nothing as they watched the de Mer family go by them and get a good distance ahead of them, more than far enough for them to be unrecognizable in their armor to MacDougall.

  Then, he, Jim and MacDougall began to follow. It had been a ride of another six hours coming out to the spot where they had waylaid the golden-surcoated clan chief. It took even longer going back, since Alan was obeying orders and riding at a slow walk, which meant the rest were doing the same.

  Consequently, it was getting on to late afternoon by the time they reached the point where Jim began to feel that they should part company with Herrac and his sons; and the trees, which now stood less thickly around the trail, were throwing long shadows at a slant toward the still invisible seashore against which Castle de Mer was built. Jim had stil
l not worked out anything that he thought would be a foolproof argument with Lachlan. But he had to break the news, anyway, so he simply dived into it.

  "Lachlan," he said, "I think we'll tie our prisoner to a tree, after taking him off his horse; so that we can be sure that he won't get loose in under ten—or fifteen—minutes anyway. Then you and I are going to step off a little ways and talk."

  Lachlan smiled his evil smile, looked at the MacDougall and winked. The wink was obviously intended to promise all sorts of unwelcome things to be done upon the body of MacDougall with the edged weapons at Lachlan's disposal. But for all Jim could see, the unvoiced threat bounced off their prisoner without doing anything more than stirring his attention for a second.

  So far, MacDougall had not said a word. He continued silent as they turned off the track and found a tree about a foot in diameter, and all of them got off their horses.

  Lachlan, himself, took on the job of tying MacDougall's hands behind him around the trunk of the tree. It was obvious to Jim, although MacDougall did not allow the wince to show in his face, that Lachlan was pulling the leather thongs of the bindings cruelly tight. But Jim said nothing; and MacDougall neither spoke nor showed by his expression that anything at all uncomfortable was being done to him.

  "Weel, now," said Lachlan, standing back and regarding his handiwork. "That should keep you for a while, Ewen."

  "You know," drawled the MacDougall, "you used to be able to speak quite passable English. What would have caused you to have lost the ability, I wonder?"

  "Och!" said Lachlan. "Ye're mistaken. This is the way I talk all the time. Because I'm a Scotsman, all the way through. While you, y'rself, are half-French and half-English inside."

  MacDougall ignored this; and Jim led Lachlan off in among the trees until they were well out of hearing, but their prisoner was still in sight. They had led all three horses along with them; so that even if MacDougall got loose, they could run him down.

  "Well, now," said Lachlan, with no trace of a Scots accent in his voice at all, "what is it you've got in mind?"

  "I'll tell you," said Jim. "I think this is as close as we should get to the Castle de Mer. You, and I and our prisoner back there."

  "As close?" echoed Lachlan, staring at him. "Now why would you say that?"

  "Well," said Jim, "we don't want him recognizing the Castle de Mer and identifying Sir Herrac and his family, do we?"

  "Not if we can help it!" said Lachlan. "But if that's the only problem, we can cut his throat right now and have it done with. I thought you'd some reason in mind for bringing him along this distance, anyway."

  "I have," said Jim. "Remember? I was going to use magic to make myself look like him."

  "Well, then, what's keeping you from it?" exploded Lachlan. "Make yourself look like him, then; and have it done with!"

  "I'm afraid it can't be done just that fast," said Jim. He began to feel a little uneasy. He had a good two inches of height on Lachlan, if it came to an argument and a fight, and possibly ten or fifteen pounds heavier. But he was not at all sure that he was any physical match for the other. Lachlan's shoulders were almost unnaturally broad; and his skill with the weapons hung about him would undoubtedly be something Jim himself could never match. This was a situation to be won by diplomacy.

  "You have to understand," said Jim, "it's not enough for me to look like the man, merely. I also must sound and act like him; with the same sort of movements and gestures, and ways of standing and sitting and walking—just in case some of the Hollow Men may have met with him before and know what he's like."

  "Now, if you move and talk a little different from him than they remember, what of that?" demanded Lachlan. "If you look like the man, you are the man. Why should they question any further than that?"

  "I think you underestimate the Hollow Men, Lachlan," said Jim.

  "I do not!" snapped Lachlan.

  "Permit me," said Jim. "No offense. It's just that, being a magician, I understand some things that ordinary people don't. These Hollow Men are not ordinary people, themselves. Effectively, they're ghosts. The possibility of the body of a man they know being taken over by someone else might not occur to you, as long as he looked exactly the same. But it could well occur to one of them. There's only a single way around it I can see. I'll have to stay with him a day, perhaps, and study him."

  "Perhaps, yes," said Lachlan—and then brightened up. "And perhaps, no. Come to think of it, I can tell you how the man walks and talks and sits. Haven't I seen him a matter of years now at the court and other such gatherings? All you need to know you can learn from me. There's no need for Ewen, himself, at all."

  "I'm sorry," said Jim firmly, "but there is. I'm very glad to hear you can tell me all this; and it may make all the difference, your being able to do so. But I must also watch him with my own eyes for a little while. That means we stay out in the woods with him. Now, what I wanted to ask you was—do you know of some kind of shelter near here where we could put up for a day or so?"

  Lachlan looked at the ground for a long moment, without answering. Then he raised his eyes to meet Jim's.

  "Yes," he said. "I'd have no wits at all if I wasn't ready to admit you've some right on your side. Very well, we'll spend our day or so in the woods; and I do know a place for it. It's a bit of a distance and a bit of a climb, but I know of a sheiling that has a hut on it. A hut that will at least keep the rain off us; and let us build a fire to warm ourselves without having the wind blow all its warmth away. Let's go back, untie Ewen and all remount."

  They did so. It took them more than an hour to reach their destination. By this time, the sun was almost on the horizon, and the last half-hour of that had been considerably more than what Jim considered a bit of a climb; considering they had to dismount and almost pull the horses up after them for short stretches.

  But when they came at last to the up-land pasture—because that, Jim had learned, was what a sheiling was—there were no cattle on it yet. Also, a small hut did indeed stand back in a little hollow against the face of the slanting meadow, itself, so that the hill protected it from the wind on three sides.

  "Well, now," said Lachlan, cheerfully rubbing his hands together as they started across the meadow toward the hut. "Now we'll see what's what."

  Chapter Nineteen

  The hut, when they got inside it, proved to be a rude shelter indeed.

  It was no more than a door, four walls and a roof; with a smoke hole in the ceiling above a firepit in the earthen floor beneath.

  It was filthy, and it stank—things Jim had gotten used to in dwellings on this world a great deal grander than this—including some castles he had been in. However, some months without an occupant had lessened the stink, which was a combination of human body odors, raw cattle hides, and half a dozen other nameless smells. And the filth was dirt only. Jim considered them lucky. The place could have had far more repellent substances about its floor than that.

  They tied their horses to stakes set in the clay wall of the hut for that purpose, and carried the gear inside. Lachlan's first step was to use a good length of rope to hobble the feet of Ewen MacDougall.

  The MacDougall clan chief had been silent through most of the trip. He seemed to have lost his immediate first terror at learning that it was Jim who had made him prisoner. But he was obviously still cautious; and further, plainly intended to give away nothing. He answered only when a direct question was addressed to him, as a demand.

  They got a fire going in the firepit, and luckily there was enough of a breeze above them so that most of its smoke was drawn out the smoke hole. With eyes watering only slightly, they settled themselves as close to the fire as possible and began to make a meal out of the meat and bread they had along with them. At Jim's order, they shared it with MacDougall; although Lachlan protested that this was a waste of good provender.

  However, with the food down, Jim began to make an effort to talk to MacDougall.

  "M'Lord Viscount," he said, bli
nking against the smoke of the fire, at Ewen MacDougall who was also blinking, "a little discussion between us will help us both. Now I know why you were headed as you were; and why you were carrying the gold you had with you. I know all about your plans. As it happens, they won't work. They'll end in ashes, like a house that's caught fire. But how much you're hurt by them will depend on how much you're willing to talk with me and work with me."

  He waited, but MacDougall said nothing.

  "Well?" demanded Jim. "Do you intend to talk openly with me, or not?"

  "Och, ye're wasting time on the man!" said Lachlan disgustedly. "He hasn't the wit to understand what ye tell him. He still thinks it's a mighty thing he's doing; and his honor won't permit him to say a word."

  "That can't be so," said Jim, keeping his tone as conciliatory as possible as he watched MacDougall.

  "Wait and see!" said Lachlan. He opened the door of the hut and stamped outside, apparently indifferent to the fact that the moon was not even up and there was little to do outside there except take care of bodily necessities. Of course, thought Jim, the latter reason may have been why he had left them.

  Jim went on trying to talk to MacDougall. But he did not answer. He was obviously very frightened of Jim, deep down; but he still would not cooperate. Meanwhile, Lachlan had come back in and Jim turned his attention to him.

  "Lachlan," he said, "there's something I need to speak to you about out of this man's hearing. Could you make sure that he doesn't get into any trouble if the two of us leave him alone?"

  "That I can," said Lachlan. He proceeded to use everything including the saddle girths from MacDougall's horse's saddle to tie the other to the frame of a bed that was little more than a wooden tray on the ground with some dried grass inside to soften it.

  "Now," said Lachlan, standing back. "He'll do for a few minutes. But I'd not give him much more than a few before we come back, slippery callant that he is."