The Dragon on The Border

by Gordon R. Dickson

  "Good," said Jim, and led the way outside, closing the door behind them.

  By now, the moon had begun to show itself above the trees higher on the hill above the pasture. It shed very little light, being only approaching full, but it was better than the starlight only that had been available before. Jim led a few steps away from the hut and then turned toward the shadowy form and features of Lachlan, who had halted facing him.

  "How am I to get him to talk?" Jim asked. "I have to study him—how he talks, how he walks, how he waves his hands. A dozen things. But the way he is now, I'm not going to learn anything."

  "I could have told y'that!" said Lachlan disgustedly. "Ye'll never see such things in him up here on this sheiling. What ye must do is see him in something like the court setting he's used to; and there's no such thing near here like that, except Castle de Mer. Moreover, to see him as he normally struts and talks, he'll have to be let loose in most of the castle rooms, with only guards on the outer door to keep him from leaving the building."

  "But that will involve the de Mers!" said Jim. "The very thing I don't want to do!"

  "Ye've no choice," said Lachlan. "If ye want what ye say ye want, that's the only way to get it. Let him play the honored prisoner and you'll see all the ways of acting the man is capable of, including his flattery of Liseth, who will be the only gentlewoman within sight and hearing of him."

  Jim stood silent, himself. But he could see no other way out.

  "I could have told ye this from the start, if I'd understood what ye'd thought ye'd might be able to get out of him up here," said Lachlan. "He'll never show it here. For one thing, a wee cattle hut like this is no setting for him. Also, there's none of the type of gentles he's used to showing off to, unless he gets to the de Mers'. He'll have to go there, and he'll have to know he's there. We can solve that easily enough afterwards, with one thrust of a dagger."

  Jim winced in the darkness. That was not the type of solution he was hoping to come up with.

  "I still don't—" he was beginning.

  "Be sensible, man!" said Lachlan exasperatedly. "It's a popinjay ye have in there, and popinjays only dance on the proper perch. It's not their nature to do anything else. Is there no way ye can understand that?"

  Jim had encountered this sort of situation before. He had constantly to remind himself that he did not really know these people. Even after almost two years he did not know all about how they acted; or even a great deal about why they chose to act, when they did. In a case like this, he would simply have to trust Lachlan; and hope that somehow he could come up with a solution that would leave the MacDougall alive and still keep the de Mers from retribution at the hands of the King of Scotland.

  "Very well," he said, "we'll go on down to the castle tomorrow, then."

  "Now ye're talking some sense," said Lachlan. Turning away from him, the Scot went back into the hut. Jim followed.

  MacDougall had made no attempt to get out of his bindings—which seemed to earn him Lachlan's contempt, instead of approval.

  "He was always a poor play-toy of a man," Lachlan said to Jim. "He was afraid that we'd come in and find him half loose and maybe one of us would be annoyed enough at that to cut his throat right now. Well, we should get some sleep. But for all that he made no move while we were outside talking, it's best we take turns sleeping. Would ye care to go first on the bed, or shall I?"

  "You first," Jim said. For one thing, he had no intention of lying down on that possibly verminous box of meadow-straw. For another, his mind was still churning, trying to come up with ideas to make his wild plans work. He had a general idea of what he wanted to do; from impersonating the MacDougall to arranging things so that all the Hollow Men had to be in that spot that Snorrl had found for him. But the details were something else again; and these hovered in a limbo full of question marks.

  So he sat by the fire—or at least at a distance from it, where its smoke and heat were endurable, while Lachlan tumbled into the box of hay and was asleep within seconds.

  Twice during the night Jim was given the chance to sleep while Lachlan stood watch. He rolled himself in his cloak, giving Lachlan the usual excuse that magician's requirements kept him from using anything like a bed, and twice he sat up watching a motionless, and occasionally sleeping, MacDougall; but when morning came he had still not come up with one useful idea beyond those he had had the night before.

  As soon as the sun rose, they ate what was left of their food, cut the bonds of MacDougall and let him hobble around for a while until the effect of his cut-off circulation was restored, at least to the point of letting him get on a horse and ride.

  They reached Castle de Mer just about noon, were welcomed by the whole family and immediately set down at the High Table with food and drink; including, at both Herrac's order and Jim's request, Ewen MacDougall.

  In spite of the wine and the good food, and the relatively comfortable benches, after being tied hand and foot on an earth floor all night, it still took MacDougall the better part of an hour to thaw out and start acting as he might ordinarily have acted, if visiting in someone else's castle.

  He began to talk with the de Mers, and in particular with Liseth, whom he evidently took to be possibly younger and much less intelligent and experienced than she was. In fact, he preened himself to her to such an extent that her brothers began to develop the beginnings of a dangerous scowl upon their faces. It was only Jim's giving an appealing look to Herrac, who was wise enough to understand what was going on, and Herrac's voiced order to his sons, that prevented trouble.

  "Remember at all times, my children," he said, letting his large voice roll forth when there was a point of the conversation at which it was appropriate to do so, "that though m'Lord MacDougall here may be our prisoner, he is also a gentleman and a guest in this castle, and we must always show all courtesy to him. I know you will do this."

  The sons understood—the implied command in Herrac's last line, if not the reasons for his ordering them to act as he had said.

  Shortly after Herrac said this, Jim himself took advantage of the fact that he had more than enough food and drink to do him for the moment, and announced that he needed to talk to Liseth about Brian and look at his friend, and perhaps Sir Herrac would excuse them both from the table now.

  Herrac was instantly obliging; and Liseth rose from her bench with alacrity. They went off, followed by MacDougall's disappointed eyes—fastened on Liseth, of course, rather than Jim.

  "I do indeed want to know about Brian," said Jim, as they began their ascent of the winding staircase toward the invalid's room. "But I also want to make other plans with you. But to Brian, first. How has he been since I left? Also, were you able to change bandages every day; and how did the wound look each time you did?"

  "We changed the bandages each morning, as you demonstrated, m'Lord," said Liseth. "The wound seems to be mending apace—indeed, with almost miraculous speed, thanks no doubt to your magic, Sir James. It hardly bleeds now, when the bandage is pulled loose—which is a marvel, considering it has only been a couple of days. There is no sign of the redness in the skin around it that you warned me to look for, either. Moreover, Sir Brian himself has become more lively; and more demanding of wine and something more than the soup we have been feeding him. In fact, I leave you to deal with his demands in that direction when we get upstairs."

  "Thanks for warning me," said Jim grimly. Brian would indeed be starting to get restless, no matter what kind of shape his wound was in.

  "I'll answer him on that matter, and perhaps even relent a little bit to allow him some wine, meat and bread," said Jim. "But I want to look at his wound first before I yield in any way to him on other things."

  "We have discovered some young onions, already up and growing in a sheltered spot of the castle wall," commented Liseth, as they continued on up. "We might include those with whatever extra food you allow Sir Brian, as a special treat. They will be the first of the spring vegetables."

 
When she said this, Jim's own mouth began to water; and he felt a tremendous admiration for Liseth's calm proposal of this. Not only she, but whoever had discovered the onions, and everyone who had heard of them, must have shown an iron discipline in not leaping upon the first vegetables they had a chance to taste since the last of the winterstored root vegetables had been used up.

  One of the things that had never occurred to him as a twentieth-century person, was how, in the middle ages, you missed vegetables—fresh vegetables, at least—for nearly nine months of the year. Then, when you did finally get to a vegetable, particularly one you liked, often its season was all too short.

  He imagined that Liseth, and everyone else, had been giving a great deal of attention to the castle's vegetable gardens for some time. The servants who first discovered these onions might have been kept from immediately grubbing them up and eating them by the fear of what might happen to them if they did. Particularly if word got back to those two who were Lord and Lady of the castle.

  But it would have taken real self-denial on Liseth's part—and she surely must have been the first one to hear about the onions—to suggest they be given only to Sir Brian. On the other hand, he reflected, honor had long since laid its iron hand upon her as strongly as upon the male members of the household.

  Naturally the only wounded man in the castle should have first offering of the new vegetables. On the other hand, it would have been all too easy to invent some excuse for not giving them to him—possibly the argument that they might not be good for him just at the present moment.

  "Hah!" shouted a fully awake Sir Brian, as Jim and Liseth came in through the door of his room. "You are returned, James! Come, let me kiss you!"

  Jim endured this with the best possible composure. Brian, close friend that he was, still had about as much body odor as any other of the fourteenth-century individuals Jim came up against, and lying in the same bed for several days had not improved it. Nor his unshaven face.

  "Now!" said Brian, releasing him. "Tell me all that has occurred."

  Jim proceeded to do so, as he turned back the covers and began to uncover the wound. The bandage came loose with very little difficulty; and once the wound was uncovered, it only seeped blood in a few places. There was no sign of inflammation around the edges of the wound.

  Jim was secretly astounded. It was true that the original slash, though long, had been hardly more than skin deep. But it was through skin that wrinkled with every movement, and for anything like this to heal this much in just a few days was literally unbelievable, particularly under the germ-laden conditions of the environment.

  The wild thought crossed his mind that perhaps on this world people simply healed faster. But Liseth had been surprised also.

  A more sensible—but still very farfetched—explanation came to him. Here, as it had been in his own fourteenth century, the only adults you saw were survivors. Probably for every grown person you saw there were four to five infants, children and teen-agers who had not survived to the age of twenty.

  He knew that inheritance and accustomation could arm people to deal with exposure to germs and viruses that others could not stand. Back in his own castle, the local people could, with no trouble—though they much preferred at least small beer—drink the water from the castle well. The only time Jim had tried it he had trouble believing, even in remembrance, how sick he had gotten. Angie was always careful to boil any water that she and Jim were likely to encounter, not only in drinking but in cooking.

  However, right here and now it was Brian's recovery that was the matter under consideration; and the patient clearly was aware of it.

  "Well, what say you, James?" demanded Brian ebulliently. "I am practically healed, am I not? There is no reason why I cannot get up and join everyone else in the castle. If you like, I will not attempt to ride for a day or two; but it is really not necessary. I could take to the saddle right now if I had to."

  "I've no doubt," said Jim, abandoning the story of what had been gone through to get the MacDougall, "that you could get up and ride if both arms and half of each leg was cut off. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you. I need you whole, in no more than a couple of weeks; and that means I don't want you running into trouble, from the chafing of clothes against your hurt, or anything else—let alone riding a horse before I think you're ready to do."

  "Come now, James—" Brian began.

  "No, I mean it, Brian!" said Jim, interrupting him. "I will need you desperately in two weeks—or less, even! I will need you if you can only accompany me to advise. On my word as a gentleman and my status as a magician, I swear to you that you must do as I say for a little longer!"

  Brian sagged back limply on the bed.

  "James," he said pitifully, "you cannot know what it is like to lie here, hour after hour with these servants—" He interrupted himself to turn and apologize to Liseth. "Forgive me, m'Lady, no offense is meant to those under your command. It is simply that I must be up and around, or I will burst!"

  Jim realized suddenly that the knight meant it; and against his better judgment, his will to resist crumbled.

  "I'll tell you what, Brian," he said. "If you'll stay as you are, with a fresh dressing on your wound, moving as little as possible on the bed until dinner time, then we will come and carry you—"

  "I need no carrying!" exclaimed Sir Brian.

  "Carry you, I said." Jim raised his voice grimly. "—Let me finish—down the stairs to join the rest of us for dinner. Then, after dinner, perhaps you could move around a little bit. But with someone on either side of you; in case you find yourself weaker than you expect."

  "I?" cried Sir Brian. "Weak? After a few hours in bed? That could not, will not and never will happen!"

  "Nevertheless, those are the conditions," said Jim. "Do you agree to them?"

  He held his breath. If Brian pushed any more, he might give in some more; and he was sure that in that case Brian would do himself more damage than could be easily repaired in time.

  "Very well, James," said Sir Brian, "but I vow I had rather be put to the torture than spend even another afternoon in this bed, with these servitors!"

  "Good!" said Jim, on a great exhalation of breath.

  "Now, about some decent wine for me to drink—" Brian began.

  "Yes, yes, we'll let you have some wine," said Jim. "But only a little, because you'll undoubtedly drink more with dinner and you'll have to watch yourself there and take only a little then, too. Do you understand?"

  "Praise the Lord and Saint Stephen!" said Sir Brian. "Send one of these cattle for the wine right away, for I vow that I may perish of thirst before they get back, as fast as they run."

  "You!" said Liseth, pointing at one of the servants. "A pitcher—"

  "Half a pitcher," quickly interrupted Jim.

  "Half a pitcher for Sir Brian!" said Liseth.

  The man she had pointed at ran out.

  Jim and Liseth stayed long enough to see Brian take his first deeply appreciative swallow of the wine brought by the servant.

  Then Jim made excuses for both of them and they started back down the stairs again.

  "Now," said Jim, when they were alone on the stairs, "as far as what you must do here at the castle and I must do outside it in the next two days, listen to me closely. Because all our futures depend on it."

  "Yes, m'Lord!" said Liseth enthusiastically.

  Looking down into her bright, young face and brown eyes, it occurred to Jim for the first time that this was the other side of the coin from Brian fretting at being confined to his bed. Very possibly, Jim's appearance with Brian and Dafydd at the castle—and particularly his own activities—were a welcome spice to the ordinary life of the de Mer family.

  Perhaps, even, this was particularly so to Liseth, who in spite of her general maturity was young enough to become happily excited, if given half the chance.

  "I need your help with this prisoner—er, this Ewen MacDougall," said Jim.

  "Yes, m'
Lord."

  "I can't remember. Were you with us or not when I explained that my plan was to try to take the place of him, using magic to disguise myself to look like him? So that I can then go to the Hollow Men and get them to assemble all in one place, so that both Borderers and the Little Men can destroy them once and for all—utterly?"

  "Oh, I know all about it, m'Lord," said Liseth. "What service can I perform for you, as far as the MacDougall is concerned?"

  "Just this," said Jim. "The magic I use will be enough to make me look exactly like him. But I'm also going to need to learn to act like him. So what I have to do is observe him in his various moods, and particularly when he is together with other people. Now, he's attracted to you—

  "Do you think so?" asked Liseth innocently.

  "Why, of course he is," said Jim. "Not only your beauty and your youth, but your wisdom and ability to command a castle like this as chatelaine has to have impressed him well beyond the ordinary, already."

  "You really do think so?" said Liseth.

  "Yes, I know so," said Jim. "Now, what I want you to do is to draw him out. He'll try to seek your favor, anyway. Please cause him to work as hard as possible at it. Stretch out the process of having him attempt to—"

  He could not think of a good medieval equivalent for the twentieth-century phrase "make a pass at you," so he ran down rather weakly.

  "I think I understand," said Liseth. "You wish me to draw the gentleman out, to make him seek my favor, and so show himself in all his ways."

  "That's it!" said Jim. "You've got it exactly. I'm hoping the man will spread his feathers like a peacock, to win your attention and your liking. That way I can observe him doing it; and later on we'll have the double advantage that once I have changed myself into a likeness of him, I can try acting as him in front of you; and you can tell me what I'm doing right or what I'm doing wrong. All you have to do is entice him—"

  "SIR!"