The Dragon, the Earl ,and the Troll

by Gordon R. Dickson

  He was, after all, a knight, and had been a knight all his life. And the way a knight got to center stage was to do dangerous and daring things. Consequently, by the time they were old enough to graduate from being squires to knights, men like the Earl, Sir Brian and Sir Harimore were conditioned to take any kind of chance just to get the spotlight upon them. Literally, the cost in possible wounds or death could be easily forgotten in the excitement of the moment—and it was clear that excitement was gripping the Earl right now.

  But it had acquired a strong foe in the last decade or so, during which the Earl had become aware that there were other things in life than wielding sword or couching lance. That awareness, combined with an equal awareness that life was good, and he would just as soon go on living it for a fair number of years yet, was fighting a stern battle with the temptation of a chronicle entry.

  Jim decided to gamble. The Earl was on the fence and now, if ever, was the time to push him over in the right direction. He had intended to tell the Earl as little as possible about Carolinus's involvement in the meeting, or Aargh's, in picking out the ground—quite frankly, simply because he did not trust the Earl not to let what he had said leak out and become common knowledge.

  If the Earl were to swear an oath that he would divulge it to nobody, of course, the information would be safe. But it would be the worst of insults to ask the Earl to take such an oath. He would take the position that his word should be good enough for anyone; and so it should be—but Jim was uneasy about it.

  "My Lord," he said, "would you step over here to this arrow slit?"

  They were in an upper room of the tower, and the arrow slit gave them a fine view of the front part of the castle, the cleared space beyond its curtain wall and the first of the trees of the forest.

  "Why?" snapped the Earl.

  "I would like to show you something, my Lord," said Jim. "This is a matter of the utmost importance and secrecy. If you would indulge me…"

  The Earl made a noncommittal noise, but moved over to the arrow slit and peered out.

  "You see, my Lord," said Jim, "beyond the curtain wall there, and beyond the cleared space where the forest trees begin, that spot where there is a small opening into the trees themselves; not quite perhaps big enough for two gentlemen to ride at each other with lances, but otherwise a fair space? It is surrounded thickly on all sides by trees and bushes, except that side which faces the castle. The reason secrecy is involved in this is that my master Carolinus has arranged to use some of his great magical ability there, outside the area of my Lord Bishop's blessing of the castle, to make the best possible place for the discussion between you and the troll, with myself sitting with you and Carolinus standing by. Note we will be within full sight of the castle curtain wall, which is less than a bow shot away; and from the top of that wall, your men-at-arms can be observing all three of us at all times, ready to come instantly, if necessary."

  "Hah," said the Earl, somewhat doubtfully.

  "The only difficulty," Jim went on, "is that the troll would naturally never agree to a meeting there if he realized it was such an open spot. Therefore Carolinus has offered to use magic to make it seem to the troll that trees fully enclose that area, so no eye can see; and the two of you, with me standing by in my dragon body just in case of any problem with the troll, are completely privy and unobserved."

  The Earl stared at the spot, turned and stared at Jim; then after a moment his face lit up.

  "Hah!" said the Earl.

  Jim's spirits bounced upward. It was the tone of voice he wanted to hear, in that "Hah!" But then the Earl's face clouded over once more.

  "But my duty—" he began, hesitated and cast a glance at Chandos.

  "My Lord," said Chandos smoothly, with hardly a heartbeat of delay between the Earl's last words and his own, "duty is certainly something that must always considered first. On the other hand, there are situations above and beyond the ordinary—"

  His eyes flitted temporarily to Jim and then back to the Earl, so smoothly that for a second it was hard for Jim to be sure that Chandos had glanced at him. But better to break in, than pass up the opportunity.

  "Forgive me for interrupting," said Jim, "but perhaps there are points of this that you, my Lord, would rather talk over alone with Sir John. Perhaps I had better leave you, accordingly, and you can always send for me if you wish me again."

  The Earl grunted, Chandos nodded and Jim ducked out of the room into the corridor, headed toward his own rooms and a little bit of peace—if there was any down there—with Angie.

  "—When duty concerns matters of high import, not easily understood by ordinary folk—or even, mind you, the lower gentry, my Lord…" Chandos was saying as the door closed behind him.

  Jim headed downstairs, feeling vastly relieved. He had no doubt whatsoever that Chandos would succeed in coming up with the excuse the Earl was seeking. Because that reaction of the Earl's, once Jim had pointed out that he would have his men-at-arms close at hand, ready to help if they saw anything go wrong between him and the troll, had removed all doubts. The Earl was not afraid of hard knocks. The Earl was only afraid of losing what was left of his life, or sustaining the kind of physical damage that would keep him from enjoying it to the full—to the full, possibly including Agatha Falon?

  That last thought came to Jim and left him wondering. Had the Earl and Agatha merely been playing the usual party games, or had there been more at stake? Prince Edward had been sure she had been aiming at the King himself. Possibly that was one more question he should look into; but there was absolutely no time to add any extra problems right now. What he needed, Jim thought sourly going down the stairs, was a holiday from this holiday.

  "Guess what, Angie," he said walking into their own quarters and seeing Angie in the front room, sitting in a chair, leaning back with her eyes closed.

  "—Up? What's up?" cried Angie, her eyes flying open. "Robert—"

  She started to rise from her chair.

  "No, no, no—" Jim waved her back down again. Guiltily, he suddenly realized that Angie had been taking advantage of a rare chance to rest from her own obligations. She sank back in the chair, looking not at all pleased in his direction.

  "What did you wake me up like that for?" she demanded.

  "I'm sorry, Angie," said Jim. "I didn't realize you might be napping."

  He was indeed sorry. But part of his mind told him that, just as he had been trying to do everything asked by Carolinus—and it seemed everybody else as well—a lot of Angie's fussing over Robert didn't have to be done by her alone. If Angie had been like almost any other woman of her rank and authority in this particular age, she would be leaving Robert exclusively to servants, and all but forgetting him completely in the amusements of this gathering.

  Not, of course, that either Angie or he particularly enjoyed what passed for amusements in this period of history. Certainly Angie had not enjoyed the hawking. Also, certainly she had not enjoyed being woken up just now.

  "What is it?" she said. "I just sat down for a minute and, bang—here you are!"

  "I didn't realize you'd dozed off," said Jim. "You really ought to get out more, you know. The wet nurse and Enna can take good care of Robert; and in case anything comes up, one can stay and the other can run and find you."

  "Perhaps," said Angie. But she still looked a little like a cat whose fur had been rubbed in the wrong direction. "Anyway, what is it? What did you come to tell me?"

  "I live here, remember?" said Jim.

  "That's right," said Angie, "you do."

  She began to look less annoyed.

  "But I could swear," she said, "you were trying to tell me something just when you woke me up."

  "As a matter of fact," said Jim, "there's a lot of things I'd like to tell you; and I just haven't had the chance. Who's in the other room—besides Robert, I mean?"

  "Enna," Angie answered. "When Robert naps, everybody naps. Well, sit down and tell me whatever it is you want to tell."
>
  "Several things," said Jim, seating himself. He reached automatically for a wine glass and the wine and water bottles.

  "You drink too much," said Angie.

  "Everybody here drinks too much," said Jim—meaning everybody in the Middle Ages. He filled his glass with half wine and half water. "In this case, I need it. I've been arguing with the Earl, trying to set up a conference between him and the troll in the basement, Mnrogar. I did tell you about him."

  "Yes, I'm up to date on Mnrogar," said Angie. "But why did he want to talk to the Earl?"

  "He didn't," said Jim. "And the Earl didn't want to talk to him. I wanted them to talk so that maybe they'd get along together enough to let the Earl allow Mnrogar upstairs without killing or hurting him, and let him try to sniff out who the secret troll is, in disguise among us."

  "I can't really believe there's a secret troll among us," said Angie.

  "I know," said Jim. "It's hard for me to believe too. It was even hard for Carolinus—and it can't get much more unbelievable than that. But Mnrogar swears there is one. More than that, he's really upset over it. I explained how this was his territory and no other troll ought to come into it, didn't I?"

  "Yes," said Angie.

  "The hard part is," said Jim, "that they've got to meet outside the castle some place, and it's got to be a place where the Earl feels safe and Mnrogar feels safe. I think we've finally got that much worked out; and just now, with the help of Chandos, I've talked the Earl around."

  He told her about it.

  "Well, then," said Angie, more cheerfully awake and normal, "then you don't have anything more to worry about."

  "Hah!" said Jim.

  "You're saying that a lot lately," said Angie.

  "Well, everybody else says it," said Jim.

  "The men say it," said Angie, in a tone of voice that clearly described the minuscule amount male conversation had developed since they all lived in caves. "But you mean you've got other things to worry about, too?"

  "Yes," said Jim. "Our castle hobgoblin has been visiting this room here, too. The dragons all want to come to the Earl's party. Giles is here; and Brian is still expecting me to want to break a lance with him sometime so he can show me the finer points of jousting. The fact that I might break my neck in the process is, of course, beside the point."

  "Tell me about it," said Angie. "Tell me about all of it."

  He did.

  "Our own serving room chimney hobgoblin," said Angie thoughtfully, when Jim was finished. "I wonder why he never put in an appearance back at the castle?"

  "I think he would've, once he grew used to us, and if the two of us had been in the room alone—with no one else with us," said Jim. "He's very shy and timid. But it was Secoh who made him seek me out, with the message for me; and I suppose that was all he thought of. You don't generally expect Naturals to have remarkable intellects."

  "That's true," said Angie. "I like Rrrnlf, but even with a head as big as his, and you'd think a brain the size to match, he does seem in some ways pretty simple-minded. That is, I don't mean simple-minded in the ordinary sense. What I mean is, he's a little childish and innocent."

  "Maybe all Naturals—" Jim was beginning, when there was a scratching on the outer door. "What is it out there?"

  Taking this for permission to stick his head in, the man-at-arms on duty there in the corridor opened the door and did so.

  "Sir Brian is without and would wish to come in, m'Lord," he said.

  "Certainly," Jim was beginning. But Brian had already pushed past the man-at-arms and was coming in himself.

  "James—Angela," he said, and dropped into the room's one remaining chair. Jim, or just about anyone else except another knight, would have been said to have collapsed into the chair. But Brian, like all his belted brethren, had been so trained by years of saddle, stool and bench sitting that it was literally impossible for him to lounge. He certainly rested in the chair; but he did it sitting as upright as if he was on parade.

  "Here's a pretty pass!" Brian said.

  "What now?" asked Angie.

  Chapter 22

  "It's Giles," said Brian. He cast a thirsty eye on the wine jug, and Jim pushed both it and a cup over to him.

  "Would you help yourself, Brian?" Jim said. "I don't know how much water you'd like with it."

  "Oh, water won't be necessary," said Brian, filling his glass to the brim with wine and swallowing it down. He smiled happily at them both. "Ahh! I was much in need of some wine. Yes."

  "So Jim was saying when he drank some a little while ago," mentioned Angie. "But what's this about Giles? Jim mentioned he was here, but that was all. Has something happened to him?"

  "Nothing to him," Brian said, "though he hurt an arm in falling off his horse during a small altercation with some outlaws on the way here. No, he's the best of lads, you know, but he will keep talking."

  "Talking?" Jim asked. "What about? There's no harm in just talking."

  He said the last words with a touch of relief. He was aware of Giles's hair-trigger temper and his penchant for challenging anyone at all upon the slightest cause—the more important or more dangerous the opponent, the better.

  "No, no," said Brian, as if reading Jim's mind. "He's on good terms with everyone. They all like him—however—he's the best of lads, as I say; but he will talk!"

  "If what he says offends nobody," said Jim, "his talking can hardly do any harm."

  "Hah!" said Brian.

  Angie got up and went into the other room. Brian stared after her, puzzledly.

  "Did I—" he was beginning; but just then the curtain was whisked aside and Angie came back and sat down, smiling kindly at Brian.

  "Go on," she said.

  "Well—as I was saying," said Brian, "or rather, James was saying that he could offend no one by talking. But offense is not the matter. The matter is that they're entirely too happy to hear what he has to tell them. He's been talking to them about us, about our adventures in France, with that magician and so forth. And they keep urging him to tell more."

  "I still don't see how this can cause any kind of problem," said Jim. "But I got the idea that he was causing some kind of problem from the way you first talked when you came in."

  "He is causing a problem, James," said Brian. "Though it's not all his fault. To be truthful, James, you—and even you, my Lady Angela—oh, I know you have good reason for it; but the rest of the guests have hardly seen you, except for a short while seated at the high table, where there is no chance to speak and become acquainted with you. But you do realize that they all came here, looking forward to meeting the Dragon Knight; and his Lady, who was carried off by dragons? The ladies particularly want to talk to you about what it was like being carried off by dragons, Angela. The gentlemen, of course, want to hear from you, James, about our battle at the Loathly Tower and the various things that chanced to hap in France and on our way there and back again. They had hoped to hear this from you before now. But—"

  "Well, that's true," said Jim. "I'm sorry. It's just that there've been so many other things. Still—"

  "Still me no stills!" said Brian sternly. "It has caused something of a problem. Forgive me for saying this to you, but it does seem to more than a few of them as if you might be deliberately holding yourself apart from them—almost as if you did not regard them as equals, only such as the Prince, the Earl, the Bishop and Sir John."

  Brian's voice dropped to a nearly apologetic note on his last few words, for this was a stiff thing to be saying to old friends who were also members of the gentry.

  Jim and Angie looked at each other.

  "I can't blame them, really," said Jim slowly. "The ones you just named are about the only ones I've been free to talk to since we got here; and of course Angie's been busy."

  "Oh, I can get loose more than I have been," said Angie. "You're quite right, Brian—they're quite right. I can get loose more. We will, won't we, Jim?"

  "Absolutely!" said Jim heartily to Brian.


  "Excellent!" said Brian. "I knew your answer would be that. Well then, James, you can begin today, by staying around after dinner—Angela needn't stay, of course, beyond a reasonable time. Most of the—er, polite ladies leave fairly shortly after the eating is done. But the gentlemen always sit around for some time—on occasion into the evening. Stay with us today, and all of them will feel they've had a chance to get to know the Dragon Knight. There are none who wish you ill, James, you know that. There are just some who have become a little unsure of their welcome where you are concerned. Which reminds me; you should probably be getting ready for dinner right now."

  "Dinner?" said Jim, like someone just woken up. He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Forgive me, Brian, but what day is this?"

  Brian looked at him with a certain amount of puzzlement.

  "Why, good Saint Stephen's Day, of course," said Brian. "No more than the first day after Christmas Day, itself."

  "Only the day after Christmas?"

  "Indeed," said Brian. Then his face lit up. "Oh, I see what you mean, James. There are no special masses for this day, and the Earl has nothing planned for sport following dinner. We may sit at table as long as we like. But—hadn't the two of you best be dressing? I will take my leave, of course. You will come by my room on your way downstairs?"

  "Why don't we meet you at Geronde's room, instead," said Angie, "say, in half an hour?"

  "By all means," said Brian, and took his leave.

  All of them together, a little less than an hour later, entered the dining room. For once, they were early; and on stepping into the Great Hall, it was clear that neither the Earl nor the Bishop were at the high table themselves yet, which meant that the dinner had not officially started, although the seats in the room were three-quarters filled, and most of the people there were doing a certain amount of eating and drinking.

  Foreseeing this, Brian had suggested on the way down that they put the time to good use, with Geronde introducing Angie to some of the ladies she knew, and Brian presenting Jim to some of the other gentlemen. In consequence, they did not go directly to the high table, but split off, Geronde and Angie together, Brian and Jim together; and headed toward different parts of the two long tables. Jim found himself being led first by Brian to—of all people—Sir Harimore.