The Dragon and The George

by Gordon R. Dickson

  "Ale, then," said Brian, impatiently. "Bring it!"

  He sat back down at the table. Giles took the other end of the bench that Dafydd had been sitting on.

  Giles looked curiously at Aragh, and then at Jim.

  "The wolf I know—by reputation, if nothing else," he said. "The dragon—My daughter's message said you were a knight under enchantment?"

  "This is the good Sir James," Brian explained. "The bowman next to you is Dafydd ap—What's that family name of yours, Master archer?"

  "Hywel," said Dafydd, pronouncing it with a lilt that Jim knew his own tongue certainly could not have managed. "I am in England to teach the English that the longbow, as well as the true blood of they that best use it, are from Wales alone; and it is also that I am going to marry your daughter, Master Giles."

  "He is not!" cried Danielle.

  Giles' bearded face parted in a smile.

  "If you ever get her permission," he said to Dafydd, "come talk to me about it. You might have to concern yourself not only with my feelings in the matter, but the intentions of some score or so younger members of my band."

  "You've a clerkly way of talking, Master outlaw," said Brian as Dick came out with bottles and another jack for Giles, followed by his two men servants rolling a cask through the door into the yard.

  "Use your caps," they could hear him directing the outlaws who came clustering around. "I've no store of jacks for such a number as this."

  "I've been that, too," Giles answered Brian, carelessly. He took off his own steel cap and tossed it on the table, filled his jack from one of the bottles and drank deeply. His sparse hair stirred a bit in the light breeze that was blowing. "Now, Sir knights, Friend Welshman and Master wolf, I've heard some little about you all—"

  His glance touched for a second on the unusual length of the longbow leaning against the table at Dafydd's side.

  "—But to save time, perhaps it's best you tell me from the beginning all that bears on the matter here, including that about each of you."

  They told him—Jim starting off, Brian taking up the story after he had met Jim, Aragh carrying the tale on from the defeat of the sandmirks, and Danielle, Dafydd and the innkeeper putting in their own reports. Giles drank and listened.

  "Well, gentles and others," he said, when they were done. "Maybe I've brought my lads here on a fool's errand after all. My daughter's message gave me to believe you'd a chance to take this castle that only needed a few more stout fighters to secure. But a mixed bag you are—I mean no offense by that—and I know Malvern Castle, which is not a cattle shed to be taken by a rush and a few blows. My lads are fine bowmen, and swordsmen if need be, but no men-at-arms. My pardon to all, but how in hell did you think you might take half an acre of stone walls from perhaps fifty men in no less than half-armor and used to such defense?"

  Brian scowled.

  "I know Malvern Castle inside out," he said. "Fifty men scattered about it won't be more than two at a time in any one place. Here are three of us, at least—four if the wolf had joined us—who are each more than a match for any two of them in any place, at any time."

  "I'll not deny that," said Giles. "But you'd need to be in the castle itself to match them. So, to take first things first, what magic had you planned to use to get into the castle?"

  "Malvern will have food stored for siege," said Brian. "But that has to be dull stuff. There's better provender here. Sir Hugh tried to take this inn and failed—I don't doubt he knew there were choice wine and meats here. It was my thought that I could disguise myself as Dick Innkeeper, driving a wagonload of choice food as a peace offering to the new commander of Malvern. The wolf would ride along in the wagon as a dog of the inn, to snarl at any of the common sort that might be tempted to filch the dainties it carried before they reached Sir Hugh. Then, once within, and hopefully in the presence of Sir Hugh himself, he and I would kill the baron, and strive to reach my lady's quarters, where she will be held prisoner—"

  "Why?" asked Giles.

  "Why what, Master outlaw?"

  "Why do you think the Lady Geronde will be locked in her own quarters?"

  "Because," said Brian, with obviously hard-held patience, "Sir Hugh would waste no time in taking over the lord's chambers; and there'd be no place else but my lady's room below the solar, to keep anyone like her prisoner in good health and safety. Strong men have been known to last little more than a few days in dungeons, of which Malvern has two, and none of the nicest. Anyplace else in the castle my lady could not be guarded from her own people, who might help her to escape, or to attempt such an escape that death would put her beyond her captors' power. Nor could she be safely guarded elsewhere from Sir Hugh's own men, some of whom at least—as you'd know, Master outlaw, having lived long enough to have a knowledge of men-at-arms—will be no more able than brute beasts to think of the consequences for what they do, when drink is in them."

  "Granted," Giles acknowledged. "Go on, Sir Brian. You've slain Sir Hugh and guards and broken into the lady's room. Now what?"

  "Now, the good Sir James, who has been on wing and waiting, sees our signal from the balcony of my lady's chamber. He swoops down and carries her away to safety and to rouse a force from the countryside, to retake the castle. Nothing is left but for the wolf and me to escape, ourselves—if God wills it."

  "God?" snarled Aragh, abruptly. "Your god, knight, not mine! If anyone saves Aragh, it'll be me. When I was half grown and a full-grown sow bear broke my right foreleg, so that in no way could I run, was it the god of humans who saved me? No, it was I—Aragh! I stood, and fought and got my teeth through the fur and loose skin to the great vein in her throat, so that she died and I lived. That's the way it's always been for an English wolf—the way it will always be. Keep your god if you wish, Sir knight, but keep him to yourself!"

  He paused, licked his jaws with one flick of his red tongue and yawned elaborately.

  "But I forget," he said. "I'd already told you this business of your lady and the castle has nothing to do with me."

  "So. Then what of your plan, Sir Brian?" said Giles.

  Brian scowled.

  "Master outlaw, I'll remind you once more—it wasn't I who invited you here. Here, we're trying to decide what force is needed for a rescue, but how to do it with what we've got. If we lack the wolf, we lack him, that's all."

  "How… ?" Giles began. "No, with all respect, Sir Brian, I think this trip of mine has been—"

  "Wait a moment, Father!" said Danielle. "I was the one sent for you."

  She turned and looked directly at Aragh. Aragh opened his jaws in silent laughter.

  "This is Aragh!" he growled. "Did you think I was another lovesick bowman?"

  "No…" Danielle replied, "I thought you were Aragh, my wolf-friend, who'd never betray me, any more than I'd betray Aragh. When I sent for my father and his men, it never crossed my mind that Aragh would abandon his friends, such as Sir James and myself. But, since he has—"

  She turned back to the table.

  "I may not be a match for any two men-at-arms, except with bow and from a safe distance," she said. "But I can be even more useful than a wolf for attracting attention away from Sir Brian, and with the help of surprise I could even aid in killing Sir Hugh and freeing Geronde. Once that's done, of course, I may not be so likely to fight my way to freedom, but I have an advantage over Aragh—like Sir Brian, I can leave my rescue to God."

  "Girl—"

  "Hush, Father! I'm my own mistress, now. So. Sir James-—Sir Brian—count me with you in your attempt on the castle."

  She looked back at Aragh.

  "And you may sleep in the sun!" she snapped.

  Aragh opened his jaws, licked them again and closed them. Then he did a thing that astonished Jim: he whined.

  "No, you don't!" Danielle said, fiercely. "You had your chance. Now I'm going into that castle, and you're not going to have anything to do with it!"

  Aragh's head dropped. It lowered and lowered until his no
se almost touched the ground. He all but crept toward Danielle and pushed his head against her knees.

  For a moment she merely glared at him. Then she sat down with a thump and put her arms around his furry neck and hugged his head to her.

  "It's all right… it's all right," she said.

  "I wouldn't have let Gorbash get hurt, either," growled Aragh, in muffled tones into the padding of her doublet. "I was just going to wait until time to go. What good am I if I can't kill for my friends?"

  "Never mind." She rubbed behind his ears. "It's all's straight, now."

  "I'll even get this knight out safely, afterwards."

  "I know you will," said Danielle. "But maybe you won't have to."

  She looked up from where she sat to her father.

  "Now that Giles o' the Wold knows he'll have three strong allies inside the castle, maybe he can consider making use of himself and his men after all to take the castle?"

  "Daughter," said Giles, "you stay clear of the whole affair."

  "That's right," Aragh insisted, pulling his head out of her embrace. "I go. You don't, Danielle!"

  "All right," she replied. "I won't go into the castle. Anything I can do outside, I'll do. Father… ?"

  Giles refilled his jack and drank thoughtfully.

  "My lads and I are no good unless we can get inside, too," he said. "If there was some way you could open the gate for us…"

  "If it's to be a taking of the castle," said Brian, "I can then barricade my lady and myself in her quarters. Sir James, instead of carrying her off, can land somewhere within the walls and attract attention, during which the wolf can slip down, slay the guards and open the gate—"

  He turned to Aragh.

  "There's a rope hoist to the right side of the gate, within," he said, "by which one man may lift the bar. With your teeth in that rope, it should lift easily. Then throw your weight on the right-hand gate door—note, Master wolf, the right-hand door, not the left—and you should be able to swing it out enough for the archers to get in."

  "Good enough, as far as it goes," said Giles. "But the gate won't stand unbarred for more than a moment, I think, even if it takes a dozen men together to cut down the wolf. And it'll take more than a moment or two for all of us, even at a dead run, to cross the open ground that I remember lies about Malvera Castle. Because it's from the nearest cover we must come, certainly. They'll have lookouts on the battlements against anyone creeping close, unseen."

  "Shoot the lookouts first," Dafydd suggested.

  The Welshman had been so silent that Jim had almost forgotten he was there. Now, they all looked at him.

  "How, Master Dafydd?" Giles asked, ironically. "With head and shoulders only for target above the walls, and at a distance of close on half a mile? Clearly you've not seen Malvern Castle and the land it stands on."

  "I can do it," said Dafydd.

  Giles stared at the younger man for a long moment. Gradually he leaned forward, peering closely into Dafydd's calm face.

  "By the Apostles," he said, softly. "I do think you mean that!"

  "I know what it is that I can do," Dafydd said. "I would not say it, else."

  "You do…" said Giles, and paused. "You do… and you'll never have to prove to me anything more about the bow and men of Wales. I know of no man living, or of any bowman in memory, able to make such a shoot and kill the men on watch. There'll be at least three, maybe four, of them on that front wall, or this Sir Hugh is no soldier; and you'll have to kill them all at near the same time, or the last one to fall will raise the alarm."

  "I have said what I can do, look you," said Dafydd. "Let us pass on to other things."

  Giles nodded.

  "The thing at least seems possible," he agreed. He turned to Brian. "There'll be smaller details to keep us busy the rest of today and the evening. Twilight or dawn were the best times to surprise them; and dawn preferable, since it gives us as many hours of light after as we wish. So, we can take our time with the details. Meanwhile, let's agree on the pay for my lads and me. Sir Hugh's men will have some gear of weapons and armor which should come to us. In addition, it's only just that Malvern Castle should ransom itself—say, for a hundred marks of silver."

  "If my lady chooses to reward you after she and hers are free," said Brian, "that's up to her. I've no authority or right to spend, what belongs to the de Chaneys."

  "There won't be any de Chaneys if Sir Orrin's indeed dead among the heathen, and the Lady Geronde isn't rescued—and you need us for that!"

  "Sorry," said Brian.

  "All right, then…" The sun wrinkles around the corners of Giles' eyes grew deeper. "Let us have Sir Hugh to ransom. He'll have family or friends who'll pay for his safe return."

  "No," said Brian. "I've said he's to die. And he is. Not only I, but the wolf's vowed it. And Aragh's a part of this, as much as you and your men."

  "Don't think to take his throat from my teeth, Master outlaw!" Aragh snarled.

  "For my lads to risk their lives to gain only some metal and war tools is not enough," said Giles. "We're a band of free men, and they won't follow me at that price, even if I ask it."

  He and Brian argued for some little time, without getting to a solution.

  "See here, Master Giles," said Brian, at last. "I've no hundred silver marks of my own to give you; but you'll have heard of me as one who pays his due. I'll give you my knight's word to speak of you and your men to my lady; and she's not the sort to let service go unrewarded. If, however, for some reason payment can't come from her, I'll myself undertake to pay you as I manage to gather that sum, or any part of it, until it's all accounted for. Damme, now, more than that I can't say!"

  Giles shrugged. "I'll talk to my lads."

  He got up from the table and went to gather his men into a huddle at a distance large enough to give their discussion privacy.

  "Don't worry, Sir Brian," said Danielle, quietly, to the knight, "they'll agree."

  In fact, in about fifteen minutes Giles came back and announced agreement. Behind his back, Danielle smiled at the others sitting around the table.

  "Let's get on to the details, then," Giles went on, sitting once more. "Sir Brian, you can hardly wear sword and armor when you drive the provision cart into the castle. On the other hand, you're not likely to be able to do much against men-at-arms, to say nothing of Sir Hugh himself, if you're naked. How to get your weapons and armor into the castle? Perhaps Sir James could carry them in a bundle and drop them to you—but then, there would be the time necessary for you to don them, and once Sir Hugh's men had seen a dragon deliver them to you—"

  "Once inside the keep, with only one or two armed men for escort to Sir Hugh," said Brian, "the wolf and I can kill them quietly and make a few minutes in which I can dress and arm myself. As for my weapons and armor, these will be with me in the cart. They'll be hidden under the provisions, and the wolf may lie on top of all."

  "And no one," snarled Aragh, "will rummage beneath me to find them—I promise you." Giles nodded, slowly. "Still…" he said to Brian, "even if you appear the perfect innkeeper, or innkeeper's assistant, Sir Hugh and his men are bound to be wary, suspecting some attempt at rescue of your lady—"

  "Ha!" said Dick, who had been standing in the doorway of his inn.

  He turned about and vanished into the dark interior.

  "What ails him?" said Giles, looking at the now-empty entrance to the building.

  "As it happens," Brian said, "I'd thought myself about Sir Hugh suspecting me. I've got an answer to that worked out. To start with, I'll go to the castle this afternoon. Ride as close to the walls as I can safely, in armor, considering he'll have crossbows from the walls of Malvern Castle even if he failed to bring some with him; and challenge him to come out and settle the matter by single combat—"

  "What silly sort of knight's trick is that?" broke in Giles. "By the scar on your face, you ought to know better than that, Sir Brian. Why should Sir Hugh come out to fight you, when he can simply s
tay safely in the castle and keep all he's got?"

  "Exactly!" said Brian. "I count on him doing just that."

  "But all you'll accomplish is letting him know you're outside Malvern Castle."

  "Exactly. Then, when he sees the provision cart I'm driving closely pursued by a knight in armor on a white horse, he'll be all the more ready to swing wide the gates, let the cart in and believe the man driving it."

  "And how's that to be arranged, unless you've two suits of armor and a twin to wear one of them? To say nothing of the fact—" Giles broke off, abruptly. "By the way, Sir Brian, does this Sir Hugh know you by sight?"

  "He does," said Brian, grimly.

  "Then what if he's on the wall when you drive up? Do you think rough clothes'll keep him from recognizing you?"

  "Dick Innkeeper has a false beard among some stuff left here by several strolling players who could not pay their shot," said Brian. "With that to cover most of my face, I stand a chance; and beyond that—well, I have to take some risks."

  "A beard?" Giles hesitated. "That's a thing I hadn't thought of. This innkeeper's a man of possessions. It might work."

  "A man with a large cellar," said Brian. He paused and listened, cocking his head toward the doorway behind him. "And here, I think, comes the answer to your objection of a moment since…"

  A thumping sound came from inside the inn. All turned to see a shape materialize in the doorway, filling it. It was a shining figure in full plate armor, with beaked helm and closed visor; and in one mailed fist it carried a mace.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "By God!" Giles exclaimed, sitting back down on the bench, picking up his jack and drinking deeply from it. Like all the rest, except Brian, he had half risen to his feet at the sight of the figure in the doorway. "You don't want to startle an old bowman so, Master Innkeeper—if it is indeed you, in that suit. You might have had an arrow through you before you were recognized!"

  "That was my own thought, also," said Dafydd.

  "Your pardon, Sir James, lady, and my masters," boomed Dick's voice hollowly inside the helm. "As Sir Brian has just said, my cellar is large. And an inn acquires many things from its various guests over a pair of lifetimes—for my father kept it here, before me. But can I not pass for a knight, think you? Particularly on horseback and from a distance?"