The Dragon At War

by Gordon R. Dickson

  Dafydd drove several arrows into both of them, but he might as well have been throwing darts into a piece of wood, for all the reaction he produced.

  "All right!" shouted Jim, seeing the torches were blazing strongly by this time. "Throw the fire down at them!"

  The men holding the torches lobbed them over the edge of the curtain wall. Jim stood where he was, at a reasonable distance from the hot pot. With Brian, Giles, Dafydd, Sir John and Angie, he peered over the wall to see the results.

  Jim had been wrong in the case of the serpent who had been slain by Dafydd's arrow. He found himself equally wrong in what he had expected would happen when the torches hit the oil-covered wood. He had expected a slow catching of fire, during which time the serpents on the causeway would have time to withdraw.

  No such thing happened. There was a sudden explosion of flame and smoke, as apparently a certain amount of vapor from the hot oil caught fire first; and a second later Jim had hastily turned his back on the wall, with everyone else—as not only the causeway, but the serpents upon it, were suddenly encased in flames.

  Shrill screams came from beyond the wall. Jim and Angie deliberately tried to shut them out. Jim found Angie's hand going into his. He held and squeezed it. Everybody else on the catwalk and on the platform had happily run to a section of the wall well away from the heat; and was eagerly leaning over to watch the spectacle.

  "By the Seven Saints!" Chandos's voice came. "Will you see that one fellow! He's rolling over and over on the dirt beyond the moat, as if to put out his fire. He looks like a log come to life in a fireplace!"

  The others cheerfully chimed in with comments.

  "I feel sick," said Angie in a low voice to Jim. She had let go of his hand, stuck her fingers in her ears, and closed her eyes. "Jim, lead me down the stairs and away from here."

  Jim led her by the elbow and they were halfway down the stairs before she suddenly stopped, took her fingers out of her ears and opened her eyes.

  "What am I doing?" she said. "Is this the way the fourteenth-century chatelaine of a castle would act because she repelled attackers on her castle with fire? Let me go, Jim."

  Jim let her go. She turned around and went back up the stairs. He followed her. To tell the truth, he had been rather glad of an excuse to leave the wall himself, at that moment. But now that Angie was returning he felt under an obligation not unlike hers.

  If she felt she had to go back and face what was happening to the serpents who had been caught in the fire he, a knight, could hardly do less. In fact, by turning his back to the wall, even with Angie for an excuse, he had probably lowered himself in the opinion of his friends and companions. He and she went back up; and both of them deliberately looked over the wall, rejoining the others there.

  What was left of two of the serpents was still on the causeway. Three more lay black and unmoving beyond the moat. The other serpents on the far side had pulled back from the terrific heat; just as the humans and Secoh, on the wall above, were already moved off to right and left along the catwalk. They all watched the fire burn down. There was a sudden thunderous crash as the half-burned drawbridge fell on top of the dead serpents.

  "Usually lose a drawbridge when you use fire," commented Chandos, so philosophically that Jim glared at the senior knight—a glare that Chandos happily did not see.

  "Well, well," said Brian with equal philosophy, to Jim. "You've still the portcullis; and the gates are only singed a bit."

  He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

  "Actually," Brian went on, "right now would be a moment to sally, wouldn't it?"

  "Go out against several thousand sea serpents?" said Jim. He knew Brian loved fighting, but this was ridiculous.

  "Yes. Not the usual enemy, here," said Chandos judiciously. "I think wiser not, gentlemen."

  "Ah, well, just a thought," said Brian. "I'd been thinking—a quick sally to slash a few throats, then back through the gates and close them behind us. But—as you think, Sir John, and you, m'Lord."

  "Yes," said Jim.

  Below them, the flames had now dropped to a flickering above the black mass. It had now burned down enough that water from the moat had been able to flood in over it to the depth of perhaps six inches. The moat water had not completely taken the place of the causeway, because there was a sufficiency of unburned lumber a little below the surface, packed so tightly with mud and the weight of the serpents upon it earlier that it still remained a potential causeway between land and castle.

  "The only question," said Jim, "is what they can try now."

  "It's important that the portcullis survived; though those iron bars of it must still be pretty hot," said Angie.

  Jim moved closer to the wall, to a point where he could stand and look directly down. Even now, leaning over the wall, Jim felt a fierce heat striking up into his face from below.

  "The important question is," he said to himself, but also out loud to the rest, "whether they're going to try to rebuild that causeway."

  The others had come to join him where he stood above the gateway, looking over the edge of the wall briefly, and then backing away from the heat that was still coming up. Curiously, before anyone else could speak, he was conscious of something very large looming over him.

  Looking up, he saw that Rrrnlf was on his feet and beside them. The Sea Devil had probably been there, for some time, watching the burning serpents, with the same amount of interest as the medieval humans on either side of him.

  Jim felt a pulse of encouragement at the giant's sudden awakening of interest in the siege.

  "What do you think, Rrrnlf?" he asked, looking up at the Sea Devil. "Will they try to rebuild it?'

  "Perhaps. Perhaps not," answered Rrrnlf. "How can they know but what you can burn as many trees as they can put in the water there to build a way to your gate? But I tell you, wee Mage, wee knight—or whatever you are at the moment—I know no more than you what they are likely to do next."

  "This is not rocky country," put in Brian, "but there are boulders, here and there, even if part-buried in the soil. I think they would have little trouble prying them out. They could try building up the causeway again, this time with stones, which will not burn."

  "Oil would coat them and burn; and it would coat on the water beneath and burn," said Chandos.

  "Still, I was thinking we might have a chance to discourage them," said Brian. "When they first approach with the stones, which they would probably have difficulty ferrying on their heads or their backs or in their mouths or however, we could make that sally I suggested earlier and see if we could not kill a few of them, thereby discouraging the rest. Think you not?"

  "The question's moot," said Angie's crisp voice. "There's not enough oil left to begin to make a worthwhile amount to dump. We used it nearly all up in that first pour."

  It seemed to Jim the time had come to play their last card. If the serpents had been able to think of building a causeway with trees, they certainly—almost inevitably—would think of rebuilding it with other stuff that would not burn. They might well believe it was the trees that caused such a fierce fire, rather than the oil that had poured down on them earlier; and which had seemed to have no particularly real deterrent effect.

  He turned to Secoh.

  "Secoh," he said.

  "Yes, m'Lord?"

  "Get one of your messengers down here, right away. I want to start moving the English dragons into the northern half of the sky as quickly as possible. Oh—and, come to think of it, you better have another messenger standing by you, ready to leave the moment I want to give the word to the French also to move in."

  "They draw off," said Brian, looking out at the serpents. "Now, why is that?"

  None of the others around him had any kind of an answer. They all stood and watched as the serpents pulled back toward the edge of the woods, where they packed very tightly almost directly in line with the gate and only a few yards out from the woods itself. Then a space appeared at a point in the mids
t of them, and one serpent was seen alone. He was held on the backs of three other serpents, cross ways, so that he was above the rest and they could all see him clearly.

  He was talking to them. At the curtain wall, they could hear his voice; but now he was far enough off so what with his shrillness of tone and the distance it was impossible to make out his words.

  "That's Essessili," growled Rrrnlf, pointing out in the general direction of the one serpent that was standing on the others.

  "You mean, the one who's talking?" said Jim.

  "Yes," said Rrrnlf. "He is speaking to all of them."

  "What's he saying?"

  Rrrnlf shook his head. "I can't hear."

  "He's saying," offered Secoh, "they must all assault the castle together, regardless of losses."

  He broke off and began reciting what was evidently word-for-word what Essessili was saying right now.

  " 'You might not want to push a brother serpent ahead of you into the fresh water of that moat,' " he repeated, " 'but if it is for the good of all, you must remember that some have to be sacrificed and shoved in.' "

  "That's Essessili!" muttered Rrrnlf. "None of them want to be shoved in, but none would hesitate to shove in another. A clever way to put it, and just like him!"

  After a brief pause, he added a few more words.

  "It still makes me to wonder, though," the Sea Devil went on. "The serpents are not usually to be talked into anything at all by another serpent. Rather, their way is to deny and dispute whatever another serpent says. It is a marvel they listen so."

  "No marvel," muttered Carolinus. "Magic. Whatever magic's been behind this all the way through is helping your Essessili right now."

  "My Essessili. Yes," said Rrrnlf, flexing his huge fingers. "My Essessili. I shall yet get him in these two hands."

  Jim continued to listen to what was evidently a rabble-rousing speech by Essessili, as repeated and reported by Secoh, and looked anxiously skyward. He was worried that a messenger had not shown up before this, one he could send to ask the English dragons to move into sky position overhead. He interrupted Secoh.

  "Where's the messenger we're going to send to the English dragons?" he demanded. "Whoever he or she is ought to be here by this time!"

  "Oh, I didn't need to call in someone to send that message," Secoh said. "I had a messenger overhead simply waiting for me to extend my wings like this."

  His spread his wings while still on the ground, then put them back at his side.

  "As soon as he saw that he took off with the prearranged message, m'Lord." Secoh looked appeasingly at Jim. "That was all right, wasn't it?"

  "That was excellent," said Jim.

  Nonetheless, he continued to scan the sky. He was afraid Essessili would not continue talking long; and it would take time for all those English dragons to move into position in the sky above them.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  It took some fifteen minutes, during which Essessili continued with his speech to his fellow serpents and Jim waited impatiently; but by then the first few mature dragons had begun to show themselves at some altitude overhead, soaring in tight circles. They were quickly joined by others, some at different altitudes as airspace around the first arrivals became crowded. But gradually the northern sky filled; and, as Essessili talked on, they increased until their presence overhead was considerable.

  Jim was beginning to relax, but only slightly. The appearance of the first dragons had already begun to make him feel more certain that nearly the full complement of British ones, at least, would be showing up—something he had been by no means sure of until now.

  Meanwhile, however, even the enlarged platform around the hot oil pot was becoming definitely crowded. This, even though most of the servants had prudently retreated at least partway down the stairs or along the catwalk, with their eyes warily upon the—not one, but two—young dragons, who had joined Secoh on the platform and were now the prime cause of the crowding.

  Secoh had evidently decided he needed an extra messenger for unexpected orders; and, on second thought, Jim was glad the mere-dragon had. Anything could happen. He should have thought of that extra messenger, himself.

  Meanwhile, the young dragons were staring with wide and fascinated eyes at Jim and the others. They had never been this close to georges in their life. This one experience would be enough to give them stories to tell the other dragons, once they got back to their Cliffside home. Dragons nowadays had very little to do with georges. Once upon a time, in the past, of course, they had preyed upon humans as on any other eatable animal.

  But then it began to turn out that georges could be dangerous prey to go after; and when, eventually, some georges began coating themselves completely in armor it became clear that the largest and stoutest-hearted dragon was taking his life in his hands by attacking one.

  So the dragons had come to leave georges severely alone; and to keeping out of their sight as much as possible.

  So the young dragons' presence here was exciting to them, as well as reassuring to Jim. Just as the increasing number of British dragons filling the north sky was also reassuring. Jim had been afraid Essessili would finish his speech before the dragons were all gathered. But the leader of the serpents talked on; perhaps he liked the sound of his own voice. The rest of them seemed content to listen, also entirely unobservant of the dragons gathering over their heads.

  Still, when a fair amount of time had gone by and the British dragons had increased to the point where they cast a shadow over the castle and the north part of the cleared area—though Essessili with his serpents were still in sunshine—Jim decided that there was no point in taking further chances. He turned to Secoh.

  "Secoh," he said, "what's Essessili been saying now—I mean for the last half-dozen minutes or so?"

  "He just keeps saying the same thing over and over again," said Secoh. "He says they've all got to throw themselves at the castle wall here until some part of it goes down and they can get inside. He says it different ways, each time, but it's all the same thing, over and over again. That's all, m'Lord."

  "I think we better call in the French dragons. He may stop talking any minute," Jim said, "and then we'll only have the time it takes the serpents to charge across the open space at us here. Oh-oh—"

  He had still been in the process of saying this, when Essessili had suddenly broken off.

  "Call in the French dragons, quick!" shouted Jim to Secoh. But then, Essessili began speaking again.

  "I already have, m'Lord," said Secoh, and indeed, there was only one of the young dragon messengers left on the platform.

  "I may have waited too long!" said Jim, between his teeth. "If Essessili stops and they attack, we'll just have to do the best we can to hold them off until they get here."

  He turned to Dafydd.

  "Dafydd!" he called. "Have you told the other archers and crossbowmen how to shoot down into the serpents' throats?"

  "I have," said Dafydd.

  He waved a hand right and left; and Jim saw that indeed all the bowmen and crossbowmen of the castle were now stationed on the catwalk around the wall, as far as he could see. Either way, before his view was cut off by the buildings of the castle itself, they were standing ready. Dafydd was only twenty feet from him on the catwalk, and holding a cow's horn that had been fitted with a sounding nipple.

  "I'll give them a horn blast to tell them when to start shooting." Dafydd raised his voice to speak to Jim. "But I doubt they'll need it. When the serpents get close it'll be plain when to start shooting. Can you get some spearmen up here to help fill the empty spaces on the wall between them? It may be a spear shoved down the serpent's throat will also slay."

  "Of course!" said Jim. "I should have thought of that, too."

  "Too?" Dafydd raised his eyebrows.

  But Jim ignored the question. He raised his voice.

  "Theoluf!" he shouted to the courtyard below. "Somebody get my squire!"

  "I'm right here, m'Lord," ans
wered the voice of Theoluf.

  Theoluf had evidently been waiting at the foot of the stairs. He was wearing most of a full suit of armor like the knights'. He should have been matching them exactly in this department, except that it took time to gather a full suit of armor from the various people who made or sold it; and also time to raise the money to buy it.

  Jim had given him the strongest horse in their stable, after Gorp, and advanced him a certain amount of cash; but theoretically, the squire was supposed to supply his own armor and horse. Most squires had relatives or influential friends to help bear the expense. But a former chief man-at-arms was unlikely to be that lucky.

  He was a man in his mid-thirties, of middling height and with a face badly disfigured by scars of some form of pox. He was wiry rather than solid, with short black hair; and he had dark eyes in a v-shaped face. Now, he ran lightly up the -stone stairway to the catwalk and crossed to the platform, speaking as soon as he arrived, without any apparent breathlessness whatsoever.

  "What do you wish, m'Lord?"

  "Did you hear Dafydd just now?" Jim asked.

  "Yes, m'Lord."

  "Well, get the men-at-arms together with the longest spears they can find; and have Dafydd tell them how to use them. You take care of it. You understand?"

  "Yes, m'Lord."

  Theoluf turned and ran along the catwalk to Dafydd, spoke for a few moments; then the two of them hurried down to the courtyard.

  Jim turned his attention back to the sky.

  Surely, all or nearly all of the available British dragons must be up there right now, although they were soaring in tight circles at different altitudes; for the airspace at any certain altitude quickly got filled up, if they wanted to stay close to and above the castle.

  Jim looked out into the southern sky and saw a few forms that must be their French dragons, messengers or possible allies, appearing above the trees in that direction—just a few.

  "They'll never get here in time!" he told himself, feeling empty inside.

  However, surprisingly, Essessili continued to talk; and slowly, but undeniably, more dragons appeared in the southern part of the sky. They appeared in a more orderly fashion than the British dragons; possibly because they had been waiting, ready in formation, just out of sight beyond the tree-top horizon.