The Adventures of Duncan & Mallory: The Beginning

by Robert Asprin

  Duncan moved a little further into the shadows, cupped his mouth in an attempt to throw his voice and said, “Who is he kidding? Did you see the size of that thing? All those teeth, that armor-scaled hide? I’ll bet that thing makes mincemeat of anyone who tries to stand against him.”

  This caused another big anti-Earl uproar from the crowd.

  “Fork up the money and hire the dragon slayer!” someone yelled.

  “What is wrong with you? Calm down I say, just calm down,” Earl ordered. It got only a little more quiet than it had been before. “So far no one is hurt, and the only one who’s lost anything of worth is me. My own sons will keep watch night and day at all the roads into and out of Hellsbut. We don’t know this dragon has any intention of coming back. He’s likely as not settled down feasting on one of my hogs right now. If he does come back, my boys will make quick work of him.”

  Duncan waited till he was sure that they had decided to stay the mayor’s course, and then he snuck out of town to find Mallory.

  “Well?” Mallory asked, warming his hands by the small fire he had made. Duncan filled him in on everything that he’d seen and heard.

  “His sons are supposed to be big guys,” Duncan said, somewhat worried.

  “Where did he say he was going to have them keep watch?” Mallory asked thoughtfully.

  “At all the roads into town,” Duncan answered.

  Mallory smiled and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “So he needs a little more convincing. Well I can do that. There’s no rule that says I have to enter town by any road.”

  Duncan chuckled. “For a pacifist, I think you’re enjoying this a bit too much.”

  “I’m not going to hurt anyone. Of course they don’t know that. There’s nothing quite as invigorating as beating a bastard at his own game.”

  * * * *

  Earl’s sons had been none too happy about guarding the roads against marauding dragons big enough to slaughter and eat a whole hog. When they’d rounded up all their father’s hogs as they’d been ordered to, they never found the biggest boar. Earl’s oldest son Joe Bob had even been openly defiant.

  “I say if there’s a dragon slayer out there somewhere, you find him and hire him. Let some stranger get eaten instead of one of us. Besides, watching the roads in and out of town—isn’t that a little lame? I mean seriously, Dad. Do you think this dragon plays by some rule book that says he has to come into town on the road? And it’s colder than a well digger’s butt at night and….”

  Earl slammed a spear into each of his son’s hands. “You boys are nothing but a bunch of lay-abouts. You let me support you as you get fatter by the day. Well, it’s time you earned your keep. You go out there, and you watch for that thing. If you see it, you kill it. Now did you hear what I just told you?”

  “Yes, Dad,” they said, but he could hear them mumbling between themselves as they walked to the road. As they split off to go to their different posts each of them turned around and gave him a go-to-hell-look that, just for a minute, made his blood run cold.

  Then Earl walked into his house, threw some wood on his fire, crawled into his warm bed and went to sleep.

  Earl reluctantly crawled out of his warm bed extra early the next morning and ventured out to check on his sons. He found each of them asleep, leaning against their spear shafts. After he shouted them awake each one announced they had seen neither hide nor hair of any dragon.

  Of course, this might have been due entirely to the fact that apparently none of them had their eyes open all night. After screaming at them each in turn about how sorry they were, he left them at their posts and started for his forge.

  He got things fired up for the day, glad that he didn’t have to sit in the cold and watch out for the dragon.

  Earl wasn’t really expecting any trouble, so he went back to doing what he did best—low quality work for three times what it would be worth if he did it right. He hadn’t been working long when he heard a commotion from the west side of town, then the east, and finally the south. He ran to the center of town and was almost run over by his three sons.

  “Dragon!” they screamed, basically bouncing into him and each other in their flight past him.

  “Get out there and fight! There are three of you and only one of him,” Earl ordered.

  “Fight it yourself,” Joe Bob said. He pushed the spear into his father’s hands and then took off at a dead run. His brothers followed him, and Earl stood there alone with three spears in his hands.

  The town’s people ran around in a panic, mostly knocking each other down. In fact, they were doing nothing but making themselves easy prey for the dragon.

  Then the dragon came into sight. Just as Earl decided to charge the dragon himself, it threw a fireball that hit the wooden shafts of the spears. They immediately caught fire, scorching his hand before he could let them go. Then, as if out of sheer spite, the dragon turned and hit the big window of the town saloon with its tail.

  Of course the saloon was owned by Earl.

  Enraged, he picked one of the charred spears up off the ground and slung it towards the creature. The dragon grabbed the shortened spear out of the air and slung it back to land with a thud at Earl’s feet. Then it went running down the road past him and out of town.

  No sooner had he seen the last of the creature and checked himself for serious injury than here came his sons on their mounts. They were riding hard away from the dragon.

  Joe Bob shouted over his shoulder, “Dragon’s all yours, Dad!”

  “Wait a minute! You get your cowardly hides back here right now!” Earl screamed after them.

  They didn’t even turn around, much less slow their horses.

  As he watched the fruit of his loins disappear down the road, the town’s people gathered around him like vultures around a carcass. They glared at him for a second and then they all started screeching at once, demanding he do something.

  “All right, all right!” Earl held up his hands as he faced the crowd. “Get a group together as soon as possible. Go find this dragon slayer you keep talking about, and we’ll pay him whatever he wants.”

  * * * *

  “Step three?” Duncan asked as Mallory came into view.

  “Step three,” Mallory said, smiling.

  Duncan put on his leggings—one charred and dented from being used over a fire—and his chain mail—the big burned spot clear and visible from a distance. Then he strapped on his sword.

  “Did you leave it dinged and a little dingy like I told you?” Mallory asked.

  “You know me. If it saves me some work I’m all over it,” Duncan said with a smile. He grabbed the broken thingy and stuck it in his pack then slung the pack on his back. “Wish me luck.”

  “Remember what I said. Be careful not to over sell it.”

  “Gotcha.” He left camp, walked to the road and headed for town.

  As he hit the edge of town he could clearly see that most of the town had gathered in front of the store. He tried to hide his smile, looking at the ground as he walked. After all, he was supposed to be a man at the end of his tether. No joy left in his soul. He was forced to make a horrible sacrifice for the sake of his family.

  “There he is!” Sam yelled out excitedly. The next thing Duncan knew most of the town had come to greet him. He looked up and did his best to look confused.

  “What’s going on?” Duncan asked, working on an air of cluelessness that normally came easily to him.

  “Are we glad to see you!” Sam said. “What brings you to town?”

  Duncan could hear pieces of the muttered conversation all around him.

  “Look at him. He’s a monster.”

  One said, “Look at his armor. It’s charred with dragon fire.”

  Still another said, “He must be the greatest dragon slayer on the whole of Overlap.”

  It was hard not to let his head swell and strut like a peacock. He had to really work on looking beaten and humbled.

  He cu
t a glare at Earl to help him get back into character. “I have come to trade my sword and my armor—all that I have of worth, besides my boat—to get my boat piece fixed. I must move my family to a place where there is work for me.” He pulled his pack off his back and rummaged through it. He held up the mangled pieces from his boat. “The two must be made one. There is no other way.”

  The whole town turned as a group to glare at Earl, who swallowed hard, stepped forward and said, “Perhaps a trade can be made, Dragon Slayer. I’ll make you a new part if you take care of our tiny little insignificant dragon problem.”

  Duncan’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Dragon problem? You have a dragon problem?”

  “A small one, yes,” Earl said. “With the emphasis on small.”

  “There is no such thing as a small dragon problem, Mr. Blacksmith,” Duncan said. “Now let’s see. When all I needed was a fair day’s work for a fair price, you tried to crook me. Now that you need my services, you look to take advantage of me yet again. In what place on this world do you think building a boat part is worth risking one’s life to slay a dragon?”

  “The town has a lot of tax money!” one of the people shouted out.

  “Why should we use any of the town’s money? So far the monster hasn’t torn up anything but the mayor’s stuff. Earl is the richest man in town—not even counting our tax revenues which he keeps and doesn’t use to fix any of the town’s problems,” Sam said. “He owns the town saloon and overcharges us for our drinks. He has cheated us all at his smithy at one time or other.”

  “Now see here, Sam, I’ll not have you befouling my good name….”

  “Befouling your good name?” Felix said. He started laughing so hard Duncan was afraid it might kill the old man. “If he gave you the middle name ‘Sewage,’ the people of this town couldn’t think less of you than they already do.”

  Several people laughed, including Duncan. He looked at Earl and said, “Because of you, my family and I had to live through the harshest winter of our lives with far too few supplies. It seems only fair to me that you should pay my fee since apparently you are the only one who has suffered a loss of property at the talons of this beast.”

  Earl looked around him, and realized he was outnumbered, without his bully boys to protect him. So he sighed and said, “What’s your fee, dragon slayer?”

  “First you fix my part and remember that I’ll know if you do a poor job. Then I’ll want two hundred coins.”

  “Two hundred! That’s usurious!”

  “Of course I could let the dragon sack your whole town,” Duncan said, pulling his blade and looking down the length of it, showing off its well-used appearance.

  All around him the town’s people started hollering at Earl, demanding he do whatever it took to get rid of the dragon.

  “Fine,” Earl said as if the word was dragged from him. “But for two hundred coins I shall want to see you kill the dragon.”

  Duncan cleared his throat. “Let’s see. Some tinkerer following me around all day, getting in my way, that will cost you three-hundred coins.”

  Earl glared at Duncan as he ate his own words. “Fine, two hundred it is then.”

  Duncan handed the broken part to Earl. “I’ll expect that part finished by tonight and accept it as an advance on my fee, if you please.”

  Earl obviously wasn’t pleased, but he took the part and walked away with it.

  * * * *

  The bartender was sweeping up the glass from the window that Mallory had smashed. Duncan had been rushed along on a sea of mankind to the saloon where they bought him a tall, almost-cold beer and slammed it into his hand.

  “Old skin flint paid a fortune for that window. Damn hard to move a piece of glass that big over all these dirt roads and get it here whole. Must be just crushing his evil old soul to see it smashed in a million pieces,” Sam said.

  Duncan realized the dragon had probably broken it for that very reason. The best way to get to a greedy man was always through his wallet.

  “You see those thugs of Earl’s grab their horses and run for the hills?” the bartender said, laughing. “Never thought I’d see the day those cocky boys were running scared. Made my whole year, I tell you.”

  “So how many dragons have you killed?” Felix asked Duncan.

  Duncan thought about it. What was a good number? What made him look good without going into the unbelievable category?

  “How many dragons have you killed?” Felix asked again, and Duncan realized the whole bar was silent, waiting for the answer.

  “I’m counting,” Duncan said. He thought quickly and then said, “Nine. I’ve killed nine dragons.”

  This seemed to impress the crowd without getting any of them to call him a liar, so he felt good about his choice.

  “How do you fight a dragon?” someone he couldn’t see asked.

  “Well first you have to find out where the dragon’s lair is,” Duncan said, watching as everyone moved even closer to him. “See, a dragon finds some cave or overhang he likes, and he decides to live here. Problem is, dragons are sort of solitary creatures. If there are people close to where he wants to live he tries to get rid of them. Usually by killing them or eating them—sometimes both. Oh, dragon attacks start out pretty simple—tear up a few stock pens maybe eat a few animals…” Duncan motioned to where the bartender was still cleaning up broken glass. “…break a few windows. But if that doesn’t do it, if all the people don’t turn tail and run, well then the dragon he gets real testy. It’s never long after that he starts with the killing and maiming and eating of people.

  “It’s all about finding where they’ve toed in, then—every dragon’s a little different. Some you have to just fight, some you can trap. Depends on what kind of dragon it is, really, and whether they’re in it for food or just playing a game. Any of you know if there is a cave around close?”

  “There is a haunted cave up west of town not too far, called the Devil’s Hole,” Mort said.

  “Haunted?” he asked.

  “Yep, sure enough. A witch used to carry on the black craft up there. Sacrifice children and such. She died a hundred years ago, but her spirit’s still there,” Felix said.

  “How do you know?” Sam asked skeptically.

  “I seen me a wooden stick figure by the entrance one time,” Mort said.

  “There was a stack of rocks, too. It was scary,” Felix added.

  “Is there another cave around?” Duncan asked, since he didn’t much care for the sound of a haunted cave.

  “Nope,” Felix said, and everyone else in the bar agreed. “’Sides, you don’t really think some dead witch is going to scare off a dragon, do ya?”

  Duncan took in a deep breath, let it out, and knowing Mallory said, “No. Probably not. Guess I’d better have a map to this cave. That’s most likely where this dragon will be holed up.”

  He watched as several men at once started drawing a map out on a dirty tablecloth covering one of the tables. They were having trouble agreeing on exactly where the cave was. After several false starts they drew what looked to Duncan like a fairly straight-forward map, till Felix told him he was looking at it upside down.

  * * * *

  “All I’m saying is you were laying it on a little thick,” Mallory told Duncan as he held the torch and lead the way. “You sure we’re going west?”

  “What exactly do you mean?” Duncan said, more than a little put out.

  Mallory worked at imitating Duncan, “Because of you my family had to live through one of the harshest winters of our lives, yadda, yadda, yadda…. The mighty talons of the beast as they rip through flesh. Whatever! And then there was all that talk in the bar about how my kind eat people and such….”

  “I thought that was pretty good story telling,” Duncan defended. “Do you really think it was such a good idea for you to hang around in town just so you could listen to me talk?”

  “Please, I’m a creature of stealth. I can easily hide undetected in the sh
adows. Besides, I had on your cloak,” Mallory explained.

  “Hello! You’re a seven-foot tall, blue dragon.”

  “Did you see me?”

  “No, but….”

  “Then I rest my case.” Mallory looked around with the torch. “Now once again, are you sure we are heading west?”

  Duncan shrugged. “This is the direction the guy with the green shirt pointed.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have tried to find this place in the dark,” Mallory said, stopping to look around—which wasn’t much help.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t try to find it all. It’s supposed to be haunted….”

  “Haunted, my old aunt’s well padded posterior.”

  “Bring the light over here,” Duncan ordered. Mallory held the torch out and Duncan unfolded the map again. He pulled a face. “It isn’t much help. Bent tree, hollow tree, big rock. Let’s face it, in the dark all the rocks and trees look more or less the same. Still, we came straight this way….”

  “We think.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be that far from town. We’ve got to be getting close. Keep walking that way,” Duncan ordered, pointing.

  Mallory nodded and kept walking, though he was sure at this point they were getting more and ever more lost in the woods. He stepped on something and reached down to pick it up. He looked at what he held in his hand and then turned towards Duncan, lighting the thing. “Look, a stick figure.”

  Duncan screamed like a child then said “Oh no!” and disappeared. There was another shrill squeal that was followed shortly after that by a huge thud. It sounded like a two-hundred-fifty-plus pound human in full armor falling into a largish hole, probably in the mouth of a small cave.

  Mallory once again marveled at his own fantastic hearing. Holding the torch high he moved carefully towards where Duncan had been when he last saw him.

  He held out his torch and looked down at Duncan lying spread-eagle in the bottom of a small hole about six feet below him. Mallory held the torch high and confirmed that they were in the cave. “Look, we found the cave. What good luck!” Suddenly curious, he raised the torch higher. “Well what do you know? Apparently we found the cave some time ago and have been walking in it. No wonder there were no stars.”