“Why?” Rowena asked. A red ruby fell from her lips.
“My mustering-out pay is there,” Sigrun answered. “Two hundred and fifty gold coins.” Rowena looked up at the dragon and they both laughed, while a shower of gems and gold fell out of Rowena’s mouth in accompaniment. It was too much. Sigrun fainted.
She awakened swathed in soft furs. A lamp cast a flickering light over her surroundings. She was deep in the cavern’s interior. Stalactites hung from the ceiling far above. A pile of gold and silver coins lay against the far wall. Mixed with the coins were gemstones, jewelry, and silverware. She looked to her side and saw her sword by her bedside. She reached out to touch it, although what good it would do against a fifty-foot dragon was questionable.
“So we’re awake, are we?” a voice rumbled from the darkness above her. She looked up into the gloom and made out the dragon’s massive head looming above her. It was so large it was hard to see all of it.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m awake.” So this isn’t a dream, she thought. Or a nightmare.
“Good,” the dragon rejoined heartily. “I’m sorry for the abrupt way I brought you here, but centuries of dealing with humans have taught me to keep my contact with human society to a minimum. But to business. I wish to hire you. You are a mercenary, are you not?”
Sigrun nodded.
“Good,” the dragon said. She gestured at the pile of treasure. Sigrun suddenly realized that the dragon was a female. The mannerisms were definitely feminine, if a bit oversized. Sigrun had never considered the question of a dragon’s gender before, deeming it only of academic interest, but if the dragon wished to hire her she would have to relate to it—her—as a person. It was strange, but she supposed it was better than being eaten.
“As you can see,” the dragon went on, indicating the cavern’s contents, “payment is not an issue.”
Sigrun looked more carefully at her surroundings. The pile of treasure she’d noticed before was not the only one. There were at least three others that she could make out in the far corners of the gloomy interior. Looking at all the treasure made her think of Rowena.
“The princess,” she said.
“Yes?” the dragon asked.
“The coins...” Sigrun began.
“Yes?” the dragon asked again.
“There were coins and jewels falling out of her mouth,” Sigrun said slowly and carefully.
“Yes,” the dragon said simply.
Sigrun settled back against the furs. There has got to be a logical explanation for all this, she thought.
“There is a logical explanation for all this,” the dragon said. She settled back on her haunches and crossed her arms over her scaly chest, then tilted her head to the side and scratched an ear with the barbed tip of her tail.
“First of all,” she began, “you’ll be glad to know that we’ve recovered your baggage. I flew to the inn you stayed at and paid your charges. Your belongings are in the other room over there.” She pointed with her tail barb. “Your two hundred and fifty gold coins are in there too. I checked to make sure none were missing.”
Sigrun nodded her thanks, thinking that she would have loved to have seen the dragon recover her baggage.
“As for Princess Rowena, she was put under a spell by a well-meaning aunt on her birthday a few years back. Lady Frideswide meant it as a gift, but Rowena regarded it as a curse. Her late father wanted to marry her off, and she found the idea of an arranged marriage rather unpleasant. So she came here to live rather than stay at home.”
“Forced marriage,” a voice came out of the gloom. “Not arranged. Forced.” It was the princess. She stepped into the light, followed by an older woman in the subdued dress of a court lady-in-waiting.
“Good morning, Princess,” Sigrun greeted her. Both newcomers smiled.
“It’s night outside,” the princess said, ignoring the gems which tumbled from her lips. “You slept all day.” She indicated her companion. “This is my Aunt Frideswide.”
“I am pleased to meet you,” Sigrun said formally.
“A pleasure,” the older woman replied. She stepped around the small pile of rubies, pearls, and emeralds at Rowena’s feet and approached Sigrun’s bed, looking intently at the sword lying at Sigrun’s side.
“Your sword is a most unusual sword,” she commented.
“Is it?” Sigrun asked, slightly surprised. “How can you tell?”
The older woman smiled a bit. “I have a bit of the Craft in me,” she answered. “May I see it?”
Sigrun nodded. Frideswide took the scabbard and drew the sword, then murmured a chant under her breath. A bright white glow seemed to emanate from the blade. Rowena sucked in her breath.
“I’ve not seen that one for a while,” the dragon commented.
“What is it?” Rowena asked.
“A mage-sword,” her aunt answered, “with a powerful geas on it.” She looked down at Sigrun. “How did it come to you?”
“My husband gave it to me several years ago,” she said dully, the heartache of his death coming back to her. “It was given to him in return for service done for a scholar in Torranni City.”
“Scholar!” the dragon harrumphed. “Old Berent One-Eye is a mage of the old school, and as slippery as an eel in an oil jar. He’s up to his old tricks, as usual.”
“What is a mage-sword?” Rowena asked innocently. A shower of pearls fell from her lips.
“It has a geas on it,” Frideswide replied.
“You said that before,” Sigrun said. “What is the geas?”
“You said you’ve had this sword for several years?” Frideswide asked. Sigrun nodded. “And you’ve never noticed the geas?”
“No, I haven’t,” Sigrun said. “Are you sure it has one?”
“Oh, it has a geas, all right,” the dragon said. “It used to be part of my hoard, so I’m quite familiar with it.”
Frideswide frowned. “How could she not have noticed?” She looked intently at Sigrun. “Do your people not have the custom of swearing an oath on their swords?”
“Of course we do,” Sigrun said. “What else would one swear on?”
“But you never noticed the geas when you swore?”
“No,” Sigrun said impatiently, “I’ve already told you that. What exactly does this geas do—besides make the sword glow?”
“While you bear the sword, you are compelled to tell the truth,” the dragon said. “And when you swear an oath upon it, you must do as you promised.”
“That would explain why I never noticed it,” Sigrun said. “Presumably the geas would kick in only if I tried to break an oath sworn upon the sword. Since I don’t break my word, I would have no occasion to notice the geas.”
“Where is your husband now?” Rowena asked curiously.
“Dead,” Sigrun said briefly.
“Oh dear,” Rowena whispered. Two opals fell to the ground.
“The sword is not all your husband gave you,” Frideswide noted, her gaze dropping pointedly to Sigrun’s belly.
“It was after our mustering-out,” Sigrun said. “We thought our lives would finally be safe enough to raise a family.” She managed a wan smile. “On the way here a couple of days later some ruffians thought we’d be easy prey. They were wrong. But he got a wound that became infected and got worse in spite of all we could do. So now I’m a widow.”
“And the ruffians?” Rowena asked. For an answer Sigrun gave her a look that made the young girl go pale and look away.
“I’m so sorry,” Frideswide said.
“Thank you,” Sigrun said. Her eyes took in the older woman with new respect. She’d been in enough courts to know a lady when she saw one. It wasn’t just a matter of satin and lace. She saw Frideswide’s eyes gazing back down at her with the same level judgment. They understood and appreciated each other.
“So my offer might be of interest to you,” the dragon rumbled from above.
“Yes,” Sigrun said. “About your offer of employment. Wha
t use would a dragon have of human fighters? And why did you grab me?” She saw Frideswide sliding the mage-sword back into the scabbard and smiled her thanks.
“As I grow older, fighting no longer thrills me as it did when I was young,” the dragon explained. “I want a guard of humans to keep robbers and would-be dragon-slayers away. As for why I chose you, it’s because of the mage-sword. As I mentioned, it was mine at one time—a part of my treasure. It was stolen by a sorcerer, and it has traded hands several times since then, but I know where all my treasure is at all times.
“Really?” Rowena asked. “I didn’t know that. Can you do that for every single piece? Can you tell exactly where the cup you gave for me is now?”
“The dragon bought you?” Sigrun asked, startled by the idea.
“When Rowena first came here to live, we thought it would be useful for her family to think her dead, so I sent them a jewel-encrusted goblet as a blood-price.” The dragon looked thoughtful for a moment. “It is now in the parlor of a money-lender.”
“That makes sense,” Frideswide said. “King Eric sold it to raise money to hire soldiers.”
“Too bad.” The dragon looked regretful. “It was such a nice goblet. As for the sword, since it found you, I feel it has chosen you for my service.” She looked down at Sigrun. “I can pay well.”
“I’m sure you can,” Sigrun replied. She thought for a moment. It would be nice never to want and to raise her child in the clean mountain air. The guard company could have a village near the foot of the mountain, by the river. There was adequate game in the forests. There were worse places, lots of them. She was sure there would be quite a few mercenaries willing to settle in the area. It was a good offer, if a bit unusual.
“There may soon be a great need for a strong guard company,” Frideswide said. All eyes turned to her.
“A warlord in the Northern Reaches named Malconte has begun to acquire lands and is looking south,” she explained. “King Eric fears his kingdom is next, and has offered his sister, Rowena, in marriage to him in return for peace.”
Sigrun snorted at that. “I’ve heard of Malconte. It may buy a bit of time, but not peace,” she observed.
“And a princess is not an object of barter!” Rowena snapped. Two amethysts, an assortment of coins, and a diamond hit the ground before her.
Sigrun and Frideswide looked at each other. She has much to learn, was the thought that lay between them.
“King Eric has begun to recruit his own mercenary band,” the dragon observed. “I suspect that he places little faith in the Princess-for-peace plan.”
“That is not his purpose,” Frideswide said. “He wants them to recover his sister, so that he may have her in hand if Malconte should accept his offer.”
Sigrun looked at those about her, contemplating their future if Malconte came here. More, she wondered at the life her unborn child would have. That decided her. The dragon and a good and well-armed mercenary company would make a formidable barrier to any warlord’s ambition. It would give them time for a more permanent solution, like a carefully arranged assassination. “Lady Dragon,” she said, “I accept your offer of employment.”
~o0o~
The wind was thin and cold as the two women looked down from the balcony at the troops arranged in rows in the courtyard below. Frideswide had loaned Sigrun a fur lined cloak and the mercenary was glad of the warmth. She was also glad of the lack of morning-sickness. Frideswide’s skill with healing herbs and spells had produced a miraculous—and necessary—cure. Sigrun’s plan to infiltrate the king’s mercenary band could not have worked if she had still been subject to morning sickness. But now she was an member of King Eric’s company. She stood looking at the troops, her sword slung comfortably at her left hip. A mismatched dagger from her reclaimed baggage provided a resting place for her right hand on the opposite hip.
“They’re not bad,” Sigrun told Frideswide. “They’re not the Silver Oaks, but they’ll do.” Her veteran eye took in the assembly. Quality varied, as did age and armament. There were quite a few veterans. The wars that had plagued the land for the last generation had abated somewhat, and several kings had released most of their troops. That left many soldiers free to seek employment elsewhere. They’d need work to whip them into a coherent force, but that was what sergeants were for. Fortunately they seemed to be well-supplied with veteran sergeants.
“The commander looks familiar,” Sigrun observed, nodding at a cloaked figure inspecting the lines. “I’m sure I know him from somewhere.”
“Tarrin O’Malley,” Frideswide said. “A bit gray for the post, I think, but what he doesn’t know of war isn’t worth knowing.”
“I remember him,” Sigrun said. “He’s good. The Silver Oaks fought under him at Three Rivers when the North Sea Bandit Kings came down out of Njiel’s Fjord for their last big raid.”
“He’s called a staff meeting for just before lunch,” Frideswide said. “He wants you there.”
Sigrun looked at her in surprise.
“So he says,” Frideswide told her.
“Then I’ll have to be there,” Sigrun said, wondering what he could want with her.
The meeting was held in the annex to the main dining hall. It was an extension of the hall, since it had been easier for the architects and builders to wall off a section of the hall than to make a separate room. It shared the same high ceiling and the same style of furniture. It also shared the warmth produced by the dining hall’s giant fireplace, and all present gratefully eased off their cloaks as they settled down at their places on the long benches.
“I am Tarrin O’Malley,” their commander stated as he opened the meeting. “King Eric has hired me to command this company. I have chosen you present for sub-commands.” He was brisk and business-like. He quickly went around the table, making appointments and assignments. He’d obviously taken the time to familiarize himself with his command.
Sigrun carefully noted his appointments. There were minor nobility for officers. They were of fair to good quality. Some were a bit the worse for wear, but they looked as if they knew their way around a battlefield. That was a relief. She’d had her share of the other sort. The sergeants were in good supply, and aside from a tendency toward strong drink on the part of some of them, a good lot. She felt better. Sergeants were the backbone of any military force. But their experience was varied; it would take time and work to wield them into an organized force.
“Sigrun of Tal Heights,” Tarrin said. She looked up at him. “You were with the Silver Oak Company,” he said. She nodded. “You were good light infantry and excellent scouts. This is new country to me, and I need information. You will head up the scouts.”
“Yes, sir,” Sigrun agreed. It looked like a good position, but she’d noted that the new force was short on experienced scouting personnel. The appointment might be an empty suit of armor. On the other hand...
The meeting seemed at an end when, as if on a pre-arranged signal, the door at the end of the room opened and a man in a golden circlet and ermine-trimmed robe entered, obviously King Eric. Tarrin rose and bowed and they all followed suit. Sigrun studied the king from under her eyelashes. He was good-looking, in a stocky sort of way, and bore no resemblance whatsoever to Rowena. He took the seat Tarrin had used and everyone to the king’s right moved one space down to allow Tarrin to take a new seat.
“Welcome,” King Eric greeted them. There were murmured replies. “I have need of a larger guard than I have had so far. To the North, as some of you may have heard, there is a new warlord by the name of Malconte. In addition, my dearly beloved sister was abducted a few years ago by a dragon that lives in the mountains near here.” Sigrun regretted silently that the tale of Rowena’s death had died a quiet death of its own. If King Eric had believed her to be dead, he wouldn’t be wasting his resources trying to get her back.
“It will be your task to rescue my sister from the evil clutches of that beast.” He rose, and all rose with him. With a flouris
h he drew his sword and held it out before him. Tarrin drew his and held it over the king’s, and all the others followed his example. Sigrun had no choice but to do as the others did, but with an air of foreboding.
“I swear,” Tarrin began.
“I swear,” all the other repeated.
“To follow all the lawful orders of our King.” In a body the others repeated Tarrin’s words.
“To carry out his wishes and will. To defend his lands and his person. And to honorably serve him as good warriors will. So I swear on my honor.” Sigrun’s sword flashed brightly. She looked around, but no one else seemed to have noticed. Sigrun lowered her blade along with the others, her heart sinking just as quickly. Rowena is not going to like this.
“I really had no other choice,” she said later when she finally had a chance to meet with Lady Frideswide. “I could hardly have announced that I couldn’t swear to King Eric because I was working for the dragon!”
Frideswide looked grim, but not without hope. “Let us not panic just yet,” she counseled.
“Can we panic later?” Sigrun asked tartly.
~o0o~
It was a clear and moonlit night, and Sigrun had carefully sent all the scouts in the other direction, so the two women had no trouble making their way to the dragon’s cave. It was a bit more troubling to make their report to Rowena and the dragon.
“I’m doomed!” the princess cried. Two star sapphires fell from her lips.
“Or we are,” Sigrun replied, glancing up at the dragon looming over them. The dragon gave a low chuckle.
“Oh, you humans and your oaths,” she said. She settled back on her haunches and crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the wall of the cavern. “Please tell me the exact wording of your oath.”
As Sigrun repeated it word for word, she realized what she had not promised. She found herself exchanging a grin with the dragon as they laid their plan.
~o0o~
“A report so soon?” Tarrin asked. It was hard to tell if he was pleased or not.
“Yes,” Sigrun said. She took the seat he pointed to. “Lady Frideswide has kin in the land hereabouts, and they have told her of the dragon’s habits. It seems that the dragon likes to hunt in the forested heights of the mountains early in the day. If the princess is left unguarded, we may be able to effect a rescue with little effort and no losses.”
The Princess, the Dragon, and the Frog Prince Page 4
