The Dragon on The Border

by Gordon R. Dickson

  Together, Brian and Jim managed to finally calm Gorp down enough so that Jim could remount the horse. Snorrl, meanwhile, had disappeared again.

  "Now, where did he go?" said Jim, vexed.

  Brian shrugged and Dafydd shook his head; mutual acknowledgment that Snorrl had simply pulled one of his vanishing acts. Almost as soon as the words were out of Jim's mouth, however, he appeared again.

  "That was a good suggestion of yours," he said to Jim. "I did indeed find some water, still enough for me to look at myself in. Yes. Indeed, I would as soon stay this way from now on."

  "Sorry," said Jim, "but you'll lose it when my magic runs out—and that may happen while we're still up on the ledge. In which case, both you and I will revert to ourselves and have to fight our way out like that as best we can with the help of Sir Brian and Dafydd ap Hywel, here."

  Snorrl was silent for a moment.

  "Well, if it is to be, it will," he said. "Oversize or my regular size, I promise to go through those Hollow Men, and the rest of you can follow in my path—if you will!"

  Chapter Thirty-One

  "We have been seen," announced Snorrl, a short while later; as he, the three men on horseback and the baggage horse with the gold behind them approached the area where the Hollow Men should be gathered.

  Jim looked down at the wolf curiously.

  "How did you scent whoever was watching for us?" he asked. "The wind's from us to them."

  "I didn't scent him," said Snorrl. "I saw and heard him; both when he was waiting and as he hurried off to tell the rest we were coming. You would have heard and seen him too, except that going about on two legs has made all of you half-blind and half-deaf."

  There was no appropriate answer to this, since Snorrl—like many individuals—judged everybody else by himself. Jim wisely said nothing.

  "We are only a short distance from them, now," said Snorrl.

  Jim looked up at the sun, which was not quite at its zenith above them. A part of his mind longed for the trusty wristwatch he had worn for fourteen years and left behind in that twentieth-century world he had come from, now undoubtedly mega-light years—and possibly mega-universes—from where he now was.

  This business of alternate worlds was something he would look into someday, if he ever got enough of a rating as a magician. Certainly Carolinus was aware of the fact of multiple universes; and, among them, possible future versions of his own world. He had betrayed such knowledge from time to time, in talking to Jim. But then Carolinus was one of the three top magicians in this world. Where he was, was a long climb for a D class magician like Jim.

  So Jim put aside the idea of the watch. They were clearly early, but there was nothing to be done about it. Particularly if their approach had already been sighted. They would have to go forward as they were going now, move up on the ledge, and start handing out the money. Meanwhile they could simply hope that the Little Men and the Borderers were either in place, or could be, before the gold was exhausted; or the use of the last of Jim's magic robbed him of Ewen's face and revealed his own.

  Either happening, he thought, would precipitate a riot among the Hollow Men, in which he, Brian, Dafydd—and probably Snorrl as well—could be overwhelmed and killed; for all the wolf's belief in his ability to pass safely through any number of Hollow Men.

  So they continued. In fact, it was not long before the trees thinned before them and they came out on the edge of the clearing.

  The Hollow Men were there. They were there in remarkable numbers. The clearing was packed; and Jim had a sinking feeling, seeing them all there in their numbers. As Ardac had said, there must indeed be more than two thousand of them; for they almost fully filled the clearing, which he had estimated to be larger than necessary. It was lucky that he had not made the mistake of picking the more convenient spot Snorrl had shown him. An ideal clearing, it had been; but one which would have certainly proved to be too small.

  The Hollow Men were clearly expecting Jim and those with him—with the exception of Snorrl. The outer ranks of the undead warriors wore clothing only, going from partially clad, to fully clad, to armored, invisible bodies in a final cluster around the ledge. Here, possibly twenty or thirty ranks deep, were Hollow Men in full armor. A few of these were on invisible horses. Most were on foot. But it was on Snorrl now they were all concentrating.

  Snorrl moved forward as well as Jim and the others. The outside Hollow Men moved back and parted before them; almost as if an invisible wedge was being driven through the crowd to make a way to the stone ledge at the foot of the cliffs.

  None seemed eager to come within ten or fifteen feet of Snorrl; and Snorrl clearly appreciated this fact and enjoyed it. He stalked ahead of Jim, Brian and Dafydd on their horses, darting his gaze right and left to watch the Hollow Men draw back from his glance, as if he identified each one of them.

  In one sense, he probably was identifying them, thought Jim; since now that the wolf was among them, his nose would be making a note of the difference in each one's odor. So he, Jim, Brian and Dafydd moved forward along the wide corridor; until at last it was the fully armored ranks that parted before them. In a perfect silence, finally, they mounted the lower end of the ledge at a point where it came almost to the ground.

  The horses balked a little, their hooves slipping on the bare rock; but they ended by coming on, and did not protest strongly at being taken up on to the ledge.

  The three dismounted. At the far end of the ledge were five figures in full armor in very good shape, like that he had seen Eshan wearing. Eshan would almost undoubtedly be one of them. Their visors were up; but of course this was no help. Within, only emptiness was to be seen. But Jim could not imagine Eshan failing to identify himself, eventually.

  Jim dismounted to check the lashings that supported the gold chests on the baggage horse. Snorrl paced alongside him, with Brian and Dafydd following.

  Jim was only killing time. By the sun, noon was still some minutes off. But it gave him a chance for a quick glance around at part of the edge of the clearing. However, there was no sign of either Little Men or Borderers. None.

  His eye was caught, however, by an unusual number of hawks and other large birds, such as ravens, circling in the sky above them.

  "Why all the birds overhead?" he asked of Snorrl in an undertone that none of the Hollow Men would be able to pick up; but which would not escape the wolf's sensitive ears.

  Snorrl had been grinning evilly at the five at the far end of the ledge. Without turning his head he answered. "The Little Men will have whistled them in," he answered. "They're friends to all birds, as well as animals. Has not Liseth told you how they whistle down her falcon when she sends it in search of them?"

  "They mentioned something like that," answered Jim. "But why do the Little Men want birds here?"

  "The birds can see, or sense, the Hollow Men—how, I do not know—even though they are without clothes completely," said Snorrl, "just as I can smell them. They will undoubtedly help the Little Men know if any try to escape by making themselves invisible. What are we waiting for?"

  "I'm using up time," hissed Jim under his breath. "It's still not noon; and I've no way of knowing if the Little Men or the Borderers are in position."

  "Is that all?" murmured Snorrl. "I could have told you that the Little Men are there; and if the Little Men are there, the Borderers will not be far behind. This is a day none of them will want to miss."

  Jim felt a great sense of relief.

  "All right, then," he said to Brian and Dafydd, and began untying the lead rope of the baggage horse as he led it forward along the ledge.

  As they went forward, Snorrl continued with them. The five armored figures at the far end of the ledge took a step or two backward; but none of them more than that. Jim led the horse to approximately the middle of the ledge before halting it.

  "Come forward!" Jim called to the five. "Aren't you here to watch me hand out the wages? I expected you to be close beside me, watching me all t
he time."

  There was a moment's hesitation and some muttering amongst the armored figures. Then they came up to within about ten feet, and stopped.

  "I am Eshan," said the most forward one of the five. "Maybe you can't recognize me, but you'll remember me from our earlier meeting. Well, now you're here, get on with it! But keep that wolf back!"

  Jim smiled engagingly. Almost sweetly.

  "He won't bother you unless we see a need for it," said Jim.

  With that he turned about, opened the nearer chest and took out a handful of the coins.

  "Since I can't see you, except by your armor or clothes," he said, lifting his voice to make it carry over the crowd, "I won't know one of you from the other. But the wolf beside me will know. And if any try to take a double share, the wolf will take care of him."

  There was a sort of wave motion in the front few ranks of the armored men, as if they would back away from him; but so many other Hollow Men were packed tight behind them any real retreat was impossible. Still, a sort of dimple appeared in the front rank opposite where Snorrl stood. Clearly, those there were getting as far from him as was possible.

  "All of you," said Jim, speaking to the crowd and still pitching his voice so that it would be heard even by those farthest away from him, "will get two of these newly minted, full-weight francs d'or, freshly minted by the King of France to pay the expenses of his coming invasion of England!"

  He reached into the chest and held up one of the golden coins, turning it from left to right and back again, so that it caught the sunlight and was visible to all of them.

  "It's called the franc à cheval, because it shows the King on horseback," he said; and there was a murmur from the crowd and a movement toward the ledge from its fringes, where the Hollow Men were packed less tightly.

  There was no way to stall any longer.

  "All right, then," Jim shouted, "let the first come forward! After that, each one in his turn!"

  There was a moment's hesitation and then one of the armored figures from the front row on the other side of Jim from that where Snorrl stood, advanced to the ledge. The figure held out a gauntleted hand and Jim placed two of the francs d'or into its palm. The metal-clad fingers closed upon them; and the figure backed away, to have its place taken almost immediately by another, repeating the same gesture.

  So the giving out of the money began.

  The gauntleted hands came one after another, their owners always approaching Jim from the opposite side of him on which Snorrl stood, and staying as far away from the wolf as possible.

  Jim had not thought to expect this would be either a wearying or a dizzying task. But as the sun reached its highest point overhead and began to move on, he became conscious of a sort of daze. It began to seem to him that an endless number of hands kept approaching him; and would keep on forever, reaching out like the jaws of young vultures waiting to be fed.

  It was like being in a receiving line, greeting countless guests, where he had to repeat the same action, over and over again, until its sheer repetition made it mechanical and mind-blurring.

  He found himself grateful for Snorrl's presence beside him. Alone, he would long since have given up the task of trying to make out whether one of the Hollow Men was trying to get a double portion or not. Now, to him, all the hands looked alike; all the figures looked alike. Even their height and weight inside their armor, or what else they wore, did not differentiate them any more. It was as if one Hollow Man kept coming back, over and over again.

  Occasionally, using the excuse of wiping from his forehead the sweat on it brought out there by the heat of the unclouded, spring sun overhead, he was able to catch a glimpse of the woods around the clearing—each time hoping to see some sign of the Little Men.

  But there was none. Only the birds, circling lower and lower overhead, now crying out to each other—or against each other, for all Jim knew. He was aware that the cries of most birds were either territorial warning-off signals, or sounds of warning, anger or alarm. If they were any of them, in this case at least, they seemed to be directed more at the other birds than at the Hollow Men below.

  He told himself that the Little Men must have known what they were doing, if indeed it was they who had summoned the winged creatures.

  He had half exhausted the chest of gold; and now, among the armored figures were beginning some who wore only partial armor over clothing. Often it was merely a sleeve end with an apparently empty space beyond it that was held out to him.

  It was an eerie, and somewhat tricky, thing to place the coins where they should go.

  He got in the habit of letting go of the coins in mid-air, just beyond the upper end of the sleeve; and leaving it to the Hollow Man himself to make sure that he caught them. He took the last few coins from one of the two compartments in the chest; and called a halt while he turned the baggage horse around and opened the chest on its other side.

  This move gave him his first good chance to look beyond the clearing. For a moment, he thought that he saw a wink of light among the trees; but it could have been his imagination. Inside him an unreasonable anger was growing.

  It was long past the time when the Little Men and the Borderers should have been in place. What was holding up their attack? If they did not bestir themselves soon, he would run out of gold.

  Then, very probably, the Hollow Men there—particularly those in armor—would simply mob him, Dafydd and Brian; and either kill them outright or keep them for some more elaborate and painful ceremony of execution.

  Right now things were getting worse. A cloud of dust had been raised over the clearing by the milling around of the Hollow Men. Also, the birds had begun flying very low over the heads of them; and their shrill cries were making the Hollow Men nervous. Finally, those not already paid were beginning to have their fear of Snorrl overcome by their greed. They were crowding and fighting to get close to Jim.

  The situation was worsened even further by the fact that those in armor clearly found their position closest to the ledge a privileged spot. Only grudgingly were they opening up spaces to let the ones farther back through to collect. Some of these behind, in only part armor, or completely armorless, had to struggle hard to make a way through the ranks of their iron-clad companions; and voices rose in anger.

  Jim found his arm suddenly seized by a gauntleted hand, and turned to look into the empty interior of the helmet of one of the Hollow Men who had been on the ledge with them.

  "You've got to do this faster!" shouted the voice of Eshan, over the rising clamor.

  "There's no way to do it faster!" Jim shouted back.

  He jerked his arm free of the other's grasp. But Eshan still stood beside him for several minutes more, possibly glaring at him from his invisible face, before turning and walking back to the other four.

  Jim was diving into the second compartment of the chest for another double handful of gold pieces, when through the haze of dust, finally, out of the corner of his eye he caught the glint of light among the trees—not merely at one point, but at several.

  He turned hastily back to the business of handing out the coins. It was his job to make sure that the Hollow Men's attention was on him; while the Little Men got started in their run across the open space toward them. He was not happy doing it, but he kept his head down; and so he did not see what was going on beyond the Hollow Men immediately before him.

  He emptied his hands finally, and turned again to the chest, giving him another chance to glance out over the heads of the Hollow Men. To his delight, this time he caught a momentary glimpse at last of a solid ring of the little spearmen, three, and sometimes four, ranks deep, advancing at a run.

  He turned hastily back to those in front of him who had outstretched arms and were still clamoring for their gold; but almost as he did so, the first spearman must have hit the outer edge of the congregation of Hollow Men.

  There was an immediate change and increase in the uproar. Shrieks from the most lightly armed and armor
ed of the outer Hollow Men rose over the general noise. But all those within Jim's sight continued to crowd around, reaching out for their gold pieces. He thought it best to keep handing the gold out to these, distracting at least them, if not the others, from the fact of what had already begun to happen.

  It was a minute or two, consequently, before he heard the hum of arrows, passing behind him. By now, except for those in the very forefront of the crowd, helmets and other headgear were turning to look outward.

  He glanced to his right and saw four armored shapes lying still on the ledge, with the ends of Dafydd's arrows projecting from their upper bodies. The fifth armored figure there was missing. Clearly, it was time for him to go.

  He filled both hands with coins from the chest and flung them into the empty faces of those before him. Turning, he sprinted toward the lower end of the ledge. Brian, riding his own war horse, Blanchard of Tours and leading Gorp, met him halfway.

  Jim could not vault into the saddle as Brian could, in full armor; though, vexingly, the unusual strength of Jim's legs had always made it possible for him to leap that high. But his aim was invariably bad. Accordingly now, he scrambled aboard with the help of a stirrup, in the usual fashion; and they rode hastily toward and off the lower end of the ledge.

  Dafydd, also back on his horse, joined them. His bow, still strung, was over his shoulder. A broadsword was in his right hand, a shield from the Castle de Mer on his left arm. As they came off the rock, they ran into a solid band of the Hollow Men in full armor, weaponed and on their invisible steeds, who were turning from the attack by the Little Men to battle with the three of them.

  Jim felt hope start to drain out of him. They would never hew their way past this deep and solid wall of opponents.

  But at that moment, Gorp's hindquarters sagged as if from a sudden heavy blow there; and the next moment a furry shape leaped over Jim's shoulder onto the Hollow Man directly opposing him.