The Dragon and The George
Page 28
"No doubt, no doubt!" Dick was wringing his hands. "A worthy company, indeed. But Sir knight, someone must pay me this time. I… I must insist."
"Unfortunately, Dick," said Brian, "sensible as I am of your situation and the strain our party threatens to put upon it, I am not wealthy myself, as you know. Nonetheless, as I did previously, I will pledge—"
"But pledges do me no good, Sir knight—with all respect!" cried Dick. "Can I feed other travelers with the pledges, which is all I will have left after you and your friends have been accommodated? And if I cannot feed travelers, what will become of me and mine?"
"Carolinus," Jim offered, "I've still got some credit left, haven't I? Why don't we use that to pay Dick?"
"It's not that kind of credit," said Carolinus, grumpily. "For an instructor in the arts, your ignorance is appalling sometimes, James."
"Dick Innkeeper," said Danielle, and her voice had an edge to it that made all look at her, "whether or not you feed and house me, or these others—all but one—means nothing to me. But Dafydd needs warmth and sustenance; and I give you fair warning, if it becomes necessary for—"
"Not necessary," growled Aragh. "Though if it comes to that, there is an English wolf at your side. But we've no problem here. Gorbash can afford to pay for the best for all—and will!"
"I… ?" Gorbash grunted like a dragon just hit in the solar plexus by a particularly powerful ogre. "I? I've practically nothing, no hoard at all to speak of—"
"You lie!" cried Secoh. "You were next of kin to that great dragon, your grand-uncle. As next of kin, you've been told where his hoard lies; and since he was very old he was very rich from years of hoarding. You have two hoards, let alone one; and you're a wealthy dragon!"
"But I—" Gorbash began.
"Gorbash," said Aragh, "I've been a friend when you had none other, except your grand-uncle. This day you've lost him. You owe a debt to James and these others who've made life safe for you and touched you with the mantle of their courage. The least—I say, the least—you can do to discharge a part of that debt is to cease whining about what little you'll pay here. If you can't do that, you're no friend of mine and I leave you alone in the world."
"Aragh—" began Gorbash, but the wolf turned his back. "Wait, Aragh! Of course I didn't mean… Of course, I'm happy to make a, well, a celebratory feast in honor of my grand-uncle who slew the ogre of Gormely Keep and today in his old age… Well, what more do I need to say? Innkeeper, your best for these people, and you shall be paid in gold before we leave."
In a daze, Jim found himself ushered into the inn just behind Danielle and Dafydd, who was carried gently to the best bed and tucked in to recover under Danielle's care. In another room, Jim struggled into a number of clothes brought up from the store in the inn's basement; and eventually emerged, richly clad, with Angie, onto the grounds outside, to find that tables and benches laden with the materials for a feast had been already set up.
While they had been inside, the sunset had died completely and now night was come. Great torches on tall standards blazed all about them and made a warm cave in the new night. Their fires crackled and sparked around the long table with benches on either side. The surface of the table was hidden under roasts and joints, fruits and cheese and other food of all kinds; while at the far end stood a massive hogshead of wine, already tapped, and before that, a row of drinking vessels both human- and dragon-sized.
"Well done!" said the hearty voice of Brian behind them, and Jim and Angie turned to see the knight emerge from the inn, his eyes fixed on the table. "Dick Innkeeper has sent to tell Geronde we're here. She'll be joining us in a bit. Dick's really done us up well, eh, James?"
Brian had also dressed. He was out of his armor and wearing a scarlet robe Jim had never seen before. Jim suspected the knight of also benefiting from the inn's store of clothing. In the robe, belted around his narrow waist by a broad tapestry-like gold cloth holding a dagger in a gold sheath skeined with ivory threads, Sir Brian Neville-Smythe was a noble figure. The sight of him reminded Jim of his own inadequacies.
"Brian…" he began, awkwardly, "I should tell you something. You see, I really don't know a great deal about using a sword and shield, or a lance, or a great many things like that. I'm not sure how much use I'll be as a friend—now that I'm staying. I'm not even in training for the sort of thing you take for granted. It's not as if I still had Gorbash's dragon body, with all its muscles…"
Brian smiled.
"Well now, James," he said, "indeed, it will be a pleasure for me to train you myself in the noble use of arms and all else that becomes a gentleman of your rank. As for muscle, it would be strange if one of your size and thews could not make a good man of deeds."
"Size… ?" Even as Jim echoed the words, he realized he had been aware of what Brian was talking about for some time; in fact, ever since his mind had returned to his own body.
He had not paid real attention to it until this moment. He had seen how Angie had grown in translating to this world. But as he compared himself now to Brian, he faced the fact that beside him the knight looked no larger than a half-grown youth.
Understanding woke inside him.
He had forgotten one thing—or, in fact, a number of things: the suits of medieval armor he had seen in museums, the plans for medieval boats, buildings and furniture… In the European Middle Ages the average size of men and women was much smaller than it had become by the twentieth century, his own time. Jim had been merely middling tall in his own time and place. Here, he was a giant.
He opened his mouth to explain this, but before he could speak he felt Angie squeeze his arm. Behind Brian, others were coming out of the inn. Danielle, and Giles o' the Wold, closely followed by Carolinus, and two sons of Dick Innkeeper, who carried wooden platters and goblets. The heavy shapes of Gorbash and Secoh had also loomed up in the torchlight out of the darkness beyond the open terrace and now Aragh slipped up, too, to join them. There was a clean, fresh splint on the wolf's broken leg.
"The innkeeper says all is ready," he growled.
"God be thanked!" commented Giles. The leathery face of the outlaw leader was bent into new creases by a rare smile. "For, I vow, we were all close to failing there for lack of proper meat and drink."
"Amen!" said Brian, limping a little as he led the way toward the benches and the tables. "Take seats, friends, and let us all be joyous, for we're given pains enough in life so that we should not lack will to make good use of pleasure such as this, when it is truly earned."