"That much I can testify to." Schmirnov smiled. "As can my scars. But we've agreed to leave such memories to the past. Tell me now, what brings you to my lair on a mission of peace? It must be important, as I can't imagine it was an easy journey for you."
Stiller snorted.
"Indeed it was not. If you are interested, I could tell you tales of the dangers we braved to stand where we are now."
"Spare me," the dragon said.
"First, we were set upon by . . . Excuse me?"
Stiller paused in his oration as the reptile's words sank in.
"I said ‘spare me,' " Schmirnov repeated. "Not to be rude, but I'll wager I've heard it all before. I have yet to hear of a quest, campaign, or simple trip undertaken by a warrior that didn't involve ambushes by bandits, attacks by various ferocious creatures, shortages of food and water, and at least one side trip to deal with a crisis that arose along the way. Did I overlook anything?"
Stiller and Ibble exchanged glances.
"Well . . . no."
"Tell me, has it ever occurred to you that peasants, peddlers, and merchants traverse these same lands virtually unarmed without encountering a fraction of the dangers you heroes seem to accept as daily fare?"
Again his visitors looked at each other, each waiting for the other to answer.
"You might discuss it at leisure once this meeting is over," the dragon said. "When you do, and if you discover I'm right, I suggest you consider two possible explanations. First, that the mere presence of a warrior or armed force will be perceived by whatever armed force or creature is in residence in the land you're traveling across as an attack, and will therefore provoke a response. That is, they will launch what they feel is a counterattack to your attack, which you in turn perceive as an attack and counter accordingly. What you see as a necessary defense only confirms their fears that you mean them harm, and the fight will continue to the death. A fight, I might add, that was not really necessary in the first place."
Stiller scowled thoughtfully.
"And the second possible explanation?" Ibble said
"If your path is constantly barred by fights and challenges, you might consider your choice of routes." Schmirnov smiled. "If someone gave you a map or suggested such a dangerous path, they might actually be trying to engineer your deaths in the guise of assisting you. If, on the other hand, the route is of your own choosing, then there's a chance that you're letting your warrior's pride outweigh your common sense. That is, you try to bull your way through obstacles and dangers on the strength of you sword arm that others would simply walk around."
Stiller cleared his throat.
"Again, Lord Dragon, you give us food for thought. Might I point out, however, that it was you who raised the subject of our journey?"
"I did?"
"Yes. You said that you supposed it had not been an easy journey for us, which I took as an invitation to tell you of our travels."
"Ah! I see the difficulty now. Actually, my reference to your doubtless hard trip was meant to imply that your mission would have to be important, or you wouldn't have undertaken it."
"Oh."
"Which brings us back to our original point. To wit, what mission is it that brings you to my cavern?"
Stiller blinked several times, then shook his head as if to clear it.
"My mission. Quite right," he said, almost to himself. "Simply put, Lord Dragon, I've been sent as a personal emissary from Prince Rango, to request a favor of you."
"That much your comrade here has explained to me," the dragon said patiently. "Tell me, just who is this Prince Rango?"
"He is the rightful ruler of these lands, both by bloodline and by right of conquest. He has recently succeeded in overthrowing the evil tyrant Kalaran, and will ascend the throne as King shortly at a combination marriage and coronation."
"This Kalaran you keep mentioning," Schmirnov said, "is he dead?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Before I start granting favors to any human or group of humans, it's nice to know who else might be popping up who might take offense at my taking sides."
"Kalaran is dead," Stiller said firmly. "I myself was present at the time of his demise."
"Why do I get the feeling it was not an easy death?" the dragon said wryly.
"Indeed it was not," the warrior confirmed. "Though evil, Kalaran was as powerful as foe as any I've faced or heard of. He had his followers, of course, and was no stranger to the Dark Arts. Much of our preparation for our assault involved locating and retrieving several powerful relics to assist us in our attack. As a warrior, I generally disdain the use of magick, but I must admit that in that final confrontation I was glad we had taken the time to gather them. No lesser items than the scroll of Gwykander, the amulet called Anachron, and the ring Sombrisio had to be employed before Kalaran was weakened enough to be downed by a sword stoke. Without them, I fear our plans would have fallen to ruin."
"Impressive," Schmirnov said. "I'm not sure I understand, however. If this Kalaran has already been disposed of, then of what assistance can I be?"
"Well, it has to do with an artifact," Stiller said, uncomfortably.
"An artifact?"
Schmirnov's head soared up as he looked toward the rear of his cavern where his own treasures were stored. Determining at a glance they were undisturbed, he returned his attention to the warrior.
"While I appreciate the originality of asking for one of my treasures rather than trying to either steal it or kill me to gain possession, I'll admit to being bewildered by your request. Nothing in my trove approaches the power of those items already in your possession. Even if I did have something that might help, I thought you said the battle was already over."
"You misunderstand, Lord Dragon," Stiller said hastily. "We're not seeking any of your treasure. Quite the contrary. What we would ask is to add one of our items to your undoubtedly valuable collection."
"Now, why would you want to do that?" the dragon said suspiciously.
"Well . . . so that you could guard it for us."
"You're trying to say that you think an artifact would be safer here in my cavern than in the kingdom capital surrounded by legions of royal guards?" Schmirnov's vice was tinged with incredulity. "Forgive me, but that seems to go against everything I've heard or learned of the arrogance of humans . . . unless there's something you're omitting from your tale."
Stiller heaved a deep sigh.
"The truth is, Lord Dragon," he said, "we've been told that we have to scatter the artifacts again. Because of that, my old comrades and I have been assigned to find new hiding places for each of them. That is what has brought me to you this day."
"Perhaps the years are dulling my mind after all," the dragon said, "but I still don't understand. Could you explain further why it is that you have to scatter these items?"
"Strange things have bee happening in these lands since the artifacts of power have been gathered together," Stiller said darkly. "Fish and other creatures rain from the heavens when there are no clouds. Unearthly sounds . . . some call it music . . . issue forth from thin air with no apparent source. Flying machines have appeared and disappeared in the sky over the capital. Most frightening, ungodly creatures unknown to science or legend have begun to appear at various places around the land. Perhaps you have observed some of these phenomena yourself?"
"Not really," Schmirnov said. "But then again, I haven't been watching very closely. Usually, when something strange or unexplainable occurs, I attribute it to the latest shenanigans of your kind, and do my best to ignore it."
"Well, they are happening nonetheless," Stiller said. "The learned men of the capital have reached the conclusion that the combined power of the artifacts we gathered has somehow created a rift in the fabric between our reality and others. What's more, they predict that it will grow worse. The only solution they can suggest is that the artifacts be scattered once more. This is the task Prince Rango has assigned to my comrades and I while he makes h
is preparations for ascending the throne . . . the task that has brought me to you today."
He drew himself and bowed slightly.
"Hmmm. Very interesting," the dragon said thoughtfully. "And what's the rest of it?"
"The rest of it?" The warrior frowned. "I don't understand."
"There must be more," Schmirnov insisted. "There are still questions unanswered by your tale. For example, why is the Prince scattering all of the artifacts? If a problem is created when they are all gathered together, then why doesn't he simply order that one be removed for hiding? At the very least, I think he would scatter all but one, keeping the most powerful close at hand to ensure his continued rule."
His visitors looked at each other and shrugged.
"I really don't know," Stiller said. "The Prince gave me my orders, and I'm following them."
"Commendable loyalty," the dragon said. "But that raises another point. Couldn't he have delegated this task to others? Why is it necessary to send forth those who are closest to him and know him best at a time when it would be most reasonable to have them at his side? After helping him to win a throne, it seems a strange reward to send you forth into danger once more rather than granting you rest and honors."
"I wondered about that myself," the dwarf growled.
"Shut up, Ibble," Stiller shot back. "As to your question, Lord Dragon, I can only assume that the Prince deemed our mission to be of such importance that it could only be trusted to his most proven friends and followers. I take my honor from being included in that number."
"Hmm. If you say so," Schmirnov said doubtfully. "Oh, well, if that's all you know, then there's little point in pressing you for more details. It doesn't really concern me, anyway. All that really matters is whether or not I will accept this artifact into my keeping."
"And what is your answer to that question, Lord Dragon?" Stiller pressed.
"I suppose it all depends," the dragon said. "What's in it for me?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Come, now, Stiller. We're all supposed to be intelligent creatures here. You want something from me, which is to say a favor. What are you offering me in return?"
"Well . . ." the warrior said, looking at Ibble for support and receiving only another shrug in return, "I hadn't really been thinking in terms of payment. I suppose if we can agree on a figure, I can get clearance from the Prince to guarantee it."
"Of course, that would take time." Schmirnov sighed.
"Not really," Stiller said. "We have with us a wizard who specializes in communication spells. Since he's been contacting the Prince's wizard on a regular basis to report our progress, I imagine we would have no difficulty obtaining approval on a payment."
"In all honesty, I hadn't been thinking in terms of payment," the dragon said. "Though I'll admit this new speedy method of communications intrigues me."
"But you said . . ."
"I inquired what you might be willing to offer me in return. I have sufficient treasure on hand already. It's actually rather easy to accumulate, since I have no place to spend it."
Schmirnov gestured negligently toward the back of his cavern with his tail.
"Well, if you aren't interested in gold or jewels, what would you like in exchange for the favor?" Stiller said, tearing his eyes away from the cavern's depths with some difficulty.
"I really hadn't given it much thought, beyond the basic instinct of not giving something for nothing. Remember, this is new to me, though you may have been thinking it for some time. Let me see . . ."
The great reptile stared thoughtfully at the cavern's ceiling for several moments.
"What I could really use," he said, almost to himself, "is something to relieve the boredom."
"What was that again?"
"Hmmm? Oh. Excuse me. I was thinking out loud. You see, the biggest problem with my current existence is that it's incredibly boring. Don't tell the villagers, but there are times when I've actually contemplated breaking my truce with them, just to have something to do."
"You know, that's something we might give some thought to, Stiller," Ibble said. "Once this mission is over and the kingdom is at peace, things could get uncommonly dull for us as well. For years, all we've done is travel and fight."
"There's an interesting question, warrior," the dragon said. "What do humans do to while away inactive time?"
"Different people do different things." Stiller shrugged. "Some garden, which I never cared for. Others take up hobbies."
"And what do you do?"
"Me? Well, whenever I get the opportunity, I like to play cards . . . poker, specifically."
"Poker?" Schmirnov said. "And what, pray tell, is poker?"
"Stiller!" The dwarf's voice had a new note of warning in it.
"Relax, Ibble," the warrior said, waving a hand at his comrade. "I'm just answering the Lord Dragon's questions. Poker is a card game . . . one of many, actually. You might say it's a time-consuming way to redistribute wealth through the study of mathematical probability."
"It's what?" The dragon frowned.
"It's gambling," Ibble said in a flat voice. "Two or more players are each dealt several cards, and they bet on who is holding the highest-ranked combination."
"That's oversimplifying it a bit." Stiller scowled.
"And your explanation was unnecessarily obtuse." The dwarf grimaced back.
"That sounds fascinating," Schmirnov said. "Could you teach me?"
"I would be honored to teach you the basics, Lord Dragon," the warrior said. "It takes years of practice to master the game, however. Then, too, we would have to include wagering as part of the lesson. Much of the subtlety of the game is involved in the betting and bluffing."
"Stiller!"
"Will you relax, Ibble?" Stiller hissed. "Remember, this isn't my idea. It's a request of the Lord Dragon. If he wishes to make this a condition for his assistance, who am I to deny it? I did promise the Prince that I would let no danger sway me from completing the mission."
"Danger?" the dragon said. "Excuse me, but what danger could be involved in such a lesson?"
"Forgive me, Lord Dragon," the dwarf said, "but the danger I fear would be to Stiller here, and not you. You see, when we refer to betting . . . wagering gold or jewels on the turn of a card . . . such exchanges are permanent. That is to say, the wealth is not returned to the loser after the game is over. Often, players become upset after having lost large portions of their wealth, and attack the winners out of frustration. As Stiller is extremely skillful at this particular game, he has come under attack more often than I would care to remember from ill-tempered opponents. Consequently, when I see him about to become embroiled in a game with someone as obviously formidable as yourself, especially one who, like yourself, professes little if any knowledge of the game, I find myself growing more than a little anxious."
"You needn't fear, little man," Schmirnov said. "I have sufficient treasure that I will not become angry over giving up a portion of it in exchange for knowledge."
"Excellent," Stiller said, rubbing his hands together.
"That is, of course, unless I find the mathematical probabilities you mentioned are being artificially tampered with. That would be tantamount to stealing from me, which is something I will not tolerate."
"Oh." The warrior became a bit more subdued.
"Actually, there is only one thing which troubles me in this potential arrangement," the dragon said. "You mentioned that the game requires two or more players. While the game sounds fascinating, and the lessons enjoyable, what will I do with the knowledge once you depart?"
"I could make it part of the agreement that I would return occasionally . . . say two or three times a year . . . and we could continue the game."
Stiller only let his eyes wander toward the back of the cavern once as he made this selfless offer.
"That would be splendid!" Schmirnov exclaimed. "I believe we have a bargain. Go and fetch your little trinket."
A nod from Stille
r sent Ibble scrambling out of the cavern.
"I must say, Lord Dragon," the warrior said as they waited, "this method of dealing with each other has much to recommend it over the way I used to approach your kind."
"As a member of the species all but wiped out by previous encounters with your kind, I can only concur," the dragon said. "There is a lot to be said for peaceful coexistence."
"Along with the gratitude of Prince Rango, I would like to extend my personal thanks for this favor," Stiller said. "I will rest much easier knowing the artifact is guarded by one who is not only fierce, but intelligent as well."
"You're too kind," Schmirnov responded. "By the way, you never got around to saying which of the artifacts you were intrusting to my care. I hope it isn't Sombrisio. That ring can be a real—"
He broke off suddenly as a glow lit up the cavern.
Ibble had reappeared, bearing with him a sword which radiated a soft but definite light.
"No need to worry about Sombrisio," Stiller said. "Jancy has the problem of dealing with—"
"That's Mothganger!!"
The dragon's voice rang with horror and accusation.
"Well . . . yes," the warrior said, taken a bit aback by his host's reaction.
"You didn't say anything about Mothganger," Schmirnov hissed. "You spoke only of the scroll of Gwykander, the amulet Anachron, and the ring Sombrisio."
"Didn't I?" Stiller frowned. "I know I said that Kalaran was finally felled by a sword stroke. I may have neglected to mention that the sword was Mothganger. I assure you, no deception was intended on my part."
"I'm sorry. The deal's off," the dragon said stiffly.
"Off?" the warrior cried. "But why? It was an innocent mistake on my part. I mean, an artifact is and artifact. Isn't it?"
"Are you mad, Stiller Gulick," the reptile said, "or simply stupid? Under no conditions will I allow that sword anywhere near me."
"But—"
MYTH-Interpretations: The Worlds of Robert Asprin Page 17
