Jim became suddenly aware that both the Bishop and Chandos were eyeing him, waiting to hear him finish what he had started out to say. What had he started out to say? His mind scrambled to recollect.
"As I was just about to remark," he said, "when this slight tickle in my throat checked me—you can understand how on first meeting the Earl and the troll will be full of complaints each has about the other, and not ready to agree on anything at all. They must be brought to it slowly. That is the heart of negotiation—a third party is needed to lead them both gently to a point where they can begin to find reason for agreement. I am planning to be that third member, as the individual known as the negotiator, and so lead them into agreement."
"I should be there too," said the Bishop.
"If you will forgive me, your Grace," said Jim. "The history of negotiation, as I know it, is that it works best when there are no more than three parties; the two opposed and a third both the other two have some reason to listen to, even if they won't listen to each other. If there are more than three, then it is a matter of one more point of view injected into the negotiation, which can delay results, and in some cases it's even been known to confound them."
"You suggest—" the Bishop began; but Chandos slipped in before he could finish.
"It may be Sir James is right in this," he said in his calm, well-modulated voice. "I also had been about to propose myself as a party to this negotiation; but what he has just said makes good sense to me. Since I am known by many to be involved with the policies of our ruler and his oldest son, it might be thought afterward that the Crown had some hand in the results of whatever evolves from this negotiation. I would rather not put the Crown in connection with this, slight though any danger may be. And possibly, my Lord Bishop, on mature thought you might think that it would be wise to disassociate the Church also from this magical, and somewhat unusual, method of compromise between a Christian and a Natural."
The Bishop closed his mouth. He looked thoughtful.
"No doubt something like this was in your mind, Sir James?" Chandos said, turning to Jim.
Jim grabbed gratefully at the argument Chandos had handed him.
"As a matter of fact, Sir John," he said, "it was. The more so, in fact, since my plan was to act as a soothing element and buffer between the Earl and the troll, particularly by doing my part in the negotiation while in my body as a dragon. This not only takes the discussion out of any possible association with either the Crown or the Church, but with other humans generally. It seemed necessary to me to have it that way, so that in case of any unexpected difficulty or trouble there'd be no blame on anyone but those who were involved in actual negotiation itself."
"Um," said the Bishop very thoughtfully indeed.
"But are we not almost at the place to which the wolf was leading us, Sir James?" asked Chandos. "The castle itself is beyond the next thin screen of trees. In fact, if you look closely, you can almost see it through them, though I think in summer time the leaves would hide it at this point."
"Well, yes," said Jim. "If you'll follow just as you are now, and forgive me for leaving you for a moment, I'll ride forward and ask Aargh about that myself."
Without really waiting for an answer from either one them—though in fact neither did answer—Jim touched his horse with his spurs and cantered forward until he was level with Aargh. Aargh looked up at him, yellow-eyed.
"James," said Aargh, in a low growl, "never do that again. Never try to use your magic to stop me from saying what I wish to say, or our friendship is dead from that moment."
"I'm really very sorry, Aargh," Jim said. "I didn't have time to think, and it's crucial the Bishop doesn't stick himself into this meeting between Mnrogar and the Earl. So I acted without thinking. I'm very sorry. Believe me, there won't be a next time. In the future I'll always think before I do anything like that, and let you speak."
"Well, let it be," said Aargh, still in the low growl. "There's no need to crawl on your belly to me like a puppy, James. Perhaps I would have said more than was wise, under the circumstances. Nonetheless, what I said must stand. I must never be silenced against my will by anyone—even you, or Carolinus. There can be no two ways with a wolf. Either there is complete freedom on both sides in an acquaintance, or there is no acquaintance."
"I'll remember," said Jim.
There was a moment of silence between them.
"Can I ask you where this place is you're taking us to?" Jim asked. "The Bishop and Sir John back there are beginning to wonder if we're going to end up in the castle courtyard."
"You're looking at it," said Aargh. "It's not far from the outer end of Mnrogar's tunnel to his lair. He will like that." Trotting a little ahead of Jim's horse, which Jim had reined back so that its pace was that of the wolf, Aargh led him into the semicircular open space, which had one side completely unshielded by trees and completely visible from the castle. Jim reined in his horse abruptly.
Aargh had also stopped and turned to him with his jaws open in a wolf-laugh.
"You'd better get back and stop those two behind you from coming out into the open," Aargh said. "You may not be recognized from the castle wall, but I rather think they might. There's no point in drawing attention to this space unless we have to."
"But this place won't do—" Jim was beginning, when Carolinus's voice seemed to speak from right behind his horse's tail.
"On the contrary, James," the voice said, "it is ideal. Come back now, and join us."
Jim turned his horse about, rode back among the trees just behind him and saw, standing together, not only the Bishop and Sir James, but Carolinus—as usual in a red robe such as he wore in any surroundings, season and weather, apparently always with complete comfort.
"But, Carolinus," said Jim, "this place—"
"Look again, Jim," said Carolinus. "Don't you believe it'll be a good deal easier for you to convince the Earl to meet with Mnrogar if he has his castle and men-at-arms at his back?"
"Yes," said Jim. "But look—Mnrogar may not be possible to convince simply because of that. Also, I've got a hunch that he's going to be harder to convince than the Earl even if the place was to his liking."
"Look again," said Carolinus. Jim blinked. The space was now completely surrounded by trees on all sides. No castle could be seen beyond.
This time Jim did not even have a chance to blink. Suddenly, the trees that had appeared were gone; and not only was the space open again on that side, but the castle was right where it had been, only about seventy-five yards away, with a few small figures looking curiously out over it at those of their party who were not obscured from view by brush.
"When the Earl looks," said Carolinus, "he will see his castle close at hand and everything open. So will the rest of you. When Mnrogar looks, there will be nothing but deep woods surrounding—more than that, the rest of his senses, particularly his sense of smell, will tell him that he is deep in the woods; and he will be persuaded he and the Earl are speaking privily together, with only you for—what did you call yourself?—a 'negotiator' present."
"The exact word is 'mediator,' " said Jim.
"Tut!" said Carolinus with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"But you'll be creating the illusion of the deep woods around the part of this space that's open to the castle, is that it?" demanded Jim.
"No," said Carolinus scornfully.
"Well, then, you'll move us back and forth from this spot to deep in the woods, depending upon which one of them is looking in the direction of the castle?"
"No." Carolinus's tone was severe. "I sometimes think, Jim," he said severely, "you tend to forget the difference between what a Master of Magick such as myself, and an apprentice like yourself, can do with our great Art. What I do here is something you have yet to learn."
Chapter 19
If you wouldn't mind," said Jim, as he was parting from John Chandos in the castle. The two of them were alone for a moment.
"Not at all, James," said Cha
ndos. Something that could almost have been a twinkle appeared in his rather serious gray eyes for a moment. "I will gladly play lute to your flute in convincing the Earl to have this little talk with the troll. I find your methods of argument not of the usual, and therefore interesting."
"I'm indebted to you," said Jim, reminding himself once again never to underestimate Chandos; and with a slight bow on either side they parted.
Jim went up the stairs toward his own quarters, feeling like someone who has fought the good fight and won. True, the business of convincing the Earl would not be easy. The business of convincing Mnrogar would be even more difficult—but Aargh had promised to stand by on that. It was not that Jim felt he needed Aargh's protection, as he had explained to the wolf; but if Mnrogar could be said to trust anyone to any extent at all, that one—curiously enough—seemed to be Aargh. Though Jim had no doubt they would try to kill each other on a moment's notice if the situation seemed to call for that.
Nonetheless—those problems aside—progress was being made. The next important thing he must do was to corner Brian and find out exactly what the schedule of events was for the rest of the twelve days of Christmas. As he ran lightly up the stairs, with legs that had been trained by a lot of stair climbing in the last three years, he tried to remember what it was in the song that the lover gave his true love on the third day of Christmas—the one upcoming tomorrow.
The first day, he recalled, it had been "a partridge in a pear tree." Then the next day it had been "two turtle doves." Then the third… his memory stuck. It was either "three maids a-dancing," or "three Lords leaping." He was almost certain that the leaping Lords belonged in the next line—"four Lords leaping…"
He turned down the corridor circling the wall of the castle tower toward the doorway that led into his two rooms, still trying to puzzle it out. The more he thought of it, it had to be "three maids a-dancing"—unless it was neither ladies nor Lords? Perhaps Angie would know.
"All Hail, Tom!" he said lightheartedly to the man-at-arms on duty outside their door as he reached to open it.
"It is hailing outside, m'Lord?" said Tom Trundle, puzzled.
"No, no, Tom," said Jim, pausing. "I was merely jesting. A merry Christmastide to you as to everybody!"
"And to you, m'Lord," said Tom behind him as Jim went through the door and closed it behind him.
Cheerfully, inside, he turned to look at his present temporary happy home, and all cheerfulness went out of him.
What he heard, in that one moment, brought him to a sudden halt.
But only for a moment. The sound he had heard was from the next room. It was of two women's voices raised in cries of rage—and one of the voices was Angie's.
He hit the leather curtain of the doorway at full speed, bursting into the other room to see Robert crying in his cradle, the young wet nurse lying on the floor, insensible or dead, and Angie locked with another woman in combat. The other woman had a naked dagger in her hand. She was being held from using it only by the grip of Angie's hand on her wrist.
Jim wasted no time trying to identify the holder of the dagger. He went for the wrist of the hand holding it.
Angie was the taller of the two, naturally athletic even back in the twentieth century, and since hardened by their years here. But the other woman, though shorter, was heavier and evidently hard as nails. She was giving Angie an even battle. However, Jim outweighed either one of them by a minimum of forty pounds; and he hit like a football player making contact. One of his hands closed on the wrist of the hand holding the dagger while the other seized hand and dagger alike and literally tore the dagger from the fingers' grip.
His impact sent the two women reeling apart, but neither fell. A glance at Angie saw that she was disheveled but all right. He looked at the woman from whose hand he had torn the dagger. It was Agatha Falon. Her gaze was now fixed on Jim, and Jim would never have believed that any face could look so viciously enraged.
"I'll see you both lose your heads for this!" she said in a low, uneven voice.
"No, you won't," said Jim; and was surprised to hear his own voice come out almost as laden with promised violence as hers.
"Yes!" Agatha Falon hissed the words. "The King will do as I say."
"No, he won't," said Jim. "He may still have some time left for women; but what he values above everything else is being able to do what he wants—drink and amuse himself while the great Lords and advisors around him run the kingdom. Those same Lords and advisors are going to be told of what you tried here. They already see the danger of you getting any control over the King. They'll play safe. You may be the one who loses your head, lady!"
"We'll see!" she retorted. A sudden wild, unreasonable feeling shot through Jim.
"Unless," he said, lifting a finger slowly and pointing it at her, "I decide to turn you into something small and slimy right now!"
Agatha made a small animal sound in her throat and darted out of the room. They heard the door to the hall slam behind her.
Jim and Angie looked at each other across the ten feet or so that separated them. Then Angie spoke in a voice that Jim had never heard her use before.
"It's a good thing you came when you did, Jim," she said. "If I could have got that dagger, she'd be dead now."
Jim looked at the weapon in his hand. With a sudden wave of disgust he threw it into a far corner of the room. Angie fell into his arms and he held her tightly while the great shudders going through her gradually lessened and slowed until they were only a shivering, until she was not shaking at all.
"Oh, Jim!" she said.
He continued to hold her, until she pushed herself away from him and stood back.
"Would you really?" she said, suddenly shaky with laughter, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand at the same time. "Would you really have turned her into something small and slimy?"
"I don't think I could, to tell you the truth," said Jim starkly. "I'm not sure the defense-only rules for magicians would let me. But I'd have tried."
"It would have suited her so well," said Angie, still shakily laughing.
Jim looked at the wet nurse. As he looked she stirred and murmured something, but her eyes stayed closed.
"What happened to her?" Jim asked.
"She'll be all right," said Angie, "but we'll have to feed Robert sugar water from a cloth teat until sometime tomorrow. Agatha got her drunk."
"Drunk?" Jim stared at Angie. "On wine?"
"No," said Angie. "On brandy, I think. You know, even in this century there're some distilled liquors, though they aren't common. My guess is it was French brandy—or rather, something more like white lightning, from the southern part of France. The King's court's one place where you can find it." Jim nodded.
"I can see why you wouldn't want her nursing until that dose wears off," said Jim. "But I'm surprised Agatha would take time out to get her drunk, even on brandy."
"Remember, Jim, people of her low rank are lucky if they ever even get to taste wine in their lifetime. And when they're given a chance to, they gulp it down the way they've always gulped down their own small beer."
Her voice hardened.
"It was just a miracle," she said. "I was headed down to the upper hall chamber but I got an uneasy feeling; and I was right. When I came back here, Tom said he'd let Agatha in because the wet nurse told him she'd been let in before. I ran in. The wet nurse was already out cold and Agatha was about to smother young Robert in… in… in…"—her voice shook—"his crib…"
Her voice deepened on the last words into that unnatural note that Jim had never heard from her until a few moments before.
"You must have got to her just at the split second—" Jim started to say.
"She was trying to arrange Robert so the smothering would look like an accident!" Angie said. "That's the only reason Robert wasn't dead before I got here. Though if I'd come in and found him dead with her there, I wouldn't have needed anybody to explain to me. So I started to throw her out and sh
e pulled her dagger."
The shaky laugh came back.
"There was my own dagger at my belt and I didn't even think of it," she said. "I punched her. She wasn't expecting that, and it stopped her for a moment; and then I began to think clearly and grabbed the arm with the dagger. She was awfully strong, but I wasn't going to let her reach me or Robert. But I'm glad you came when you did!"
"I ought to've had a premonition myself," said Jim bleakly. "Actually, I was just coming up the stairs, trying to remember some of the song about the Twelve Days of Christmas."
Angie came to him again, hugged and kissed him.
"You came," she said. "Come, let's go in the other room. Robert's fallen asleep all on his own, now that things are quiet; and I don't want even to look at this room right now."
"What about the wet nurse?" said Jim. "Shouldn't we lay her on something, or something like that?"
"No," said Angie, "let her lie. It won't matter to her for the next ten hours or so. And when she wakes, and she feels like hell, good enough for her. She should be expecting anything up to a death sentence; but I'll simply tell her I'll leave her to answer for her sin to Heaven. That'll be worse than anything that could happen to her body. Come into the other room, Jim."
They moved, and sat down in the two barrel chairs at the little table with the wine and water bottles and the glasses on them. Angie's hands had already begun smoothing her hair and rearranging her brown dinner gown—which Jim knew was her personal favorite—as if they had minds of their own.
The gown was of fine-woven wool, dyed a brown that matched her eyes. It had the boat neckline that was the fashion of this period, the tight bodice and ample, floor-length skirt; and she had caused it to be recut in some way that gave it almost a twentieth-century look. As a married woman, she was of course wearing her hair curled and rolled into two buns, one on each side of her head. But she wore a band around her head above these, and over this, the conventional flimsy net veil hung down behind her head. To this veil she had added little glitter points of silver foil.
The Dragon, the Earl ,and the Troll Page 20
