The Dragon, the Earl ,and the Troll

by Gordon R. Dickson

  "I'll talk to him, all right!"

  Jim felt a little uneasy. Angie was like a loaded gun in one respect. You didn't want to point her at anyone you didn't want shot. On the other hand, she couldn't do any harm; and it just might be that with a little boost, Carolinus could be pushed to get them out of the current situation with the other magicians. Meanwhile…

  He finished his tea.

  "Well, I'd better get going," he said. "Brian will already be out with Mnrogar at that secret practice ground that Carolinus fixed somehow so nobody will ever blunder in on us to see what we're doing. And, for that matter, Carolinus himself might show up. If he does, I'll tell him it's important you see him right away. If it's anything less than important, he's likely to put it off or forget it. Sometimes I think he's getting more absent-minded all the time. Where's my sword belt and sword? Oh, there they are."

  He belted them on.

  "Well, I'll see you later in the day," he said, heading for the door.

  "You might want to put on some more clothes," said Angie. "It's still winter outside."

  "That's right," said Jim, brightly and falsely, making a U-turn. "I was just about to do that."

  It was only a ride of five minutes or so from the castle to the area in the woods where Brian had been working so hard to get Mnrogar and the transmuted boar to behave like a proper Black Knight and horse at the tournament; but Jim made the trip on Gorp, his war horse, and with armor, shield and weapons.

  There might be no need for all this martial preparedness; but no knight ventured far into woods, as they were at this time, without at least his sword; and in unfamiliar woods, he went prepared for anything—and preferably not alone. The fact that on the morning when Angie had gone out for the hawking Jim had encountered nothing but small parties of several people together, was not merely because these people were so fond of each other's company. It was a habit. If you had people with you, you had automatic allies in case something came up.

  So Jim had gotten over feeling foolish about getting all dressed up to go a short distance like this. But even if he had not, he had reminded himself that he was not exactly sure where the practice area actually was.

  Close to the castle as it seemed to be, it might actually be a good distance away. Because at no time in any of the days since they had first tried to get Mnrogar to behave properly in a suit of magic armor, and the boar to behave properly like a war horse, had they been intruded upon by any other guests, or ordinary denizens of the castle.

  It was a question whether Carolinus had set up magic to transport them from a certain point close to the castle to some distant spot; or set up magic wards of some kind around the practice area that shunted off anyone who might be passing by close enough to see what they were doing.

  On this morning, as usual, Brian was there before Jim and already at work with the magically transformed troll and boar. Both his squire, John Chester, and Theoluf, Jim's squire, were also there, to assist as needed.

  Jim tethered Gorp with Brian's and two other horses, at some little distance from the very real-appearing lists, which had been created by a few sticks stuck in the snow, supplemented by Carolinus's magic. They looked for all the world like an actual jousting area with a barricade down the center, which was there so that two opposing knights could ride at each other on different sides of it, and so avoid the danger of their horses blundering together.

  The whole space, except for the surrounding trees, was a perfect match for how the lists outside the castle would look tomorrow—Jim winced at the thought that the actual tournament was now only some twenty-four hours away—and that resemblance was both good and necessary, because the boar and Mnrogar both had to be trained under conditions as close as possible to those under which they were going to have to perform.

  Most of this barricade, of course, was mainly illusion. But the central twenty feet or so of it had been made hard and actual by Carolinus's magic. It was the only way to protect against the boar's natural tendency to try charging right through it at the opposing horse, and Mnrogar's natural tendency to get to close grips with his human opponent.

  The thought of Mnrogar diving from the boar's back over the barricade at the last moment to grapple with a knight approaching him with spear and shield from the opposite direction had been a nightmare to both Brian and Jim. In fact, it was not exactly certain that they had trained both boar and troll into proper list behavior, even now. The trouble was, as Carolinus had pointed out earlier, that certain things in the animal and the Natural were instinctive; and so were not easily controlled, either by training or magic.

  However, Jim headed toward Brian, who turned to meet him with a weary smile.

  "Well, you know," said Jim, as he came up to his friend, "you have to admit they really look the part."

  In fact, they did. Mnrogar was close to being believable as the Black Knight, in complete plate armor with a jousting helm—rather like an upside-down bucket, the bottom of which had been round rather than flat. A bucket with a slit cut into it for its wearer to not only see out of, but try to breathe through.

  It was no wonder that knights who had to wear such full head-coverings in action avoided full beards in favor of being clean shaven, or perhaps wearing a small, neatly trimmed mustache and goatee, a manly display of hair that would not interfere with their breathing in the already confined space of the helm. The near unbelievability of Mnrogar, Jim decided, lay mainly in the inhuman width of his shoulders. His magically produced armor made them bulk even larger. But then it also made all of him look larger, so perhaps he would seem possible to the viewers at the tournament, after all.

  At the moment, he was sitting completely still in perfect horseman fashion on a black horse the size of one of the massive Percherons Jim had seen once in the twentieth century pulling a brewery wagon in a parade. The towering, slim length of his jousting spear stood upright from its socket by his armored right toe.

  The transformed boar between his legs was no less impressive. He also stood perfectly still, overwhelming in his size and utter blackness; and Jim felt a moment's yearning for such a horse himself—only a real one that size and a trained war horse to boot. Neither made a sound.

  "Do they seem to be getting the idea at all?" Jim asked Brian.

  "They have gotten better over time," said Brian. "Sometimes I think they may act without fault on the morrow. But no sooner do I think that, than Mnrogar will try to use his spear like a club, or the boar-horse will try to go through the barricade instead of running beside it. James, I don't think they can ever be completely trusted. We must take our chances when the hour comes, and only hope they behave as they should."

  "Maybe Carolinus'll show up; and we can get him to give them some final finishing magic of some kind to make sure they don't misbehave," said Jim.

  "By the Holy Trinity!" said Brian. "I hope so!"

  "How have they been acting so far today?" asked Jim.

  Brian scowled at the motionless armored figure and his black charger and turned away from them. Jim turned also to continue talking with him.

  "So far today, I have not run them," said Brian. "We can do so now if you like."

  "Let's," said Jim.

  They turned back.

  The knight and horse were still silent. But while Brian and Jim had turned their backs, the horse had lain down—not on its side in normal horse fashion but by doubling its legs underneath it. The knight was still in his saddle, but had his legs splayed out to keep from standing. Brian stamped over to the head of the horse.

  "Get up!" he roared.

  Clumsily, the horse climbed to its feet again and the knight put his feet back in the stirrups. Brian took the reins and led the horse forward a few paces, turning it slightly so that it was facing down along the right side of the barrier, which resembled nothing so much as a plank wall about four feet in height. Jim peered along it, to see if he could tell where the illusion part joined with the solid section in its middle; but he could find n
o seam or line to indicate a joining. Probably, he told himself, that was not surprising, seeing the whole thing was the result of magic—just one part was more solid than the other.

  Brian was handing the reins back to the knight, who took them and held them in proper position in his right hand between his second and third fingers.

  "Dress your shield!" snapped Brian.

  Mnrogar already had his left arm through the straps with which it held the shield, and now he brought it forward into protective position, so that Jim managed a glance at the back of it, as well as at the blank blackness of the front. He had been curious as to whether it was all one solid piece, as he suspected the barrier was. But the shield seemed instead to be a duplicate of the real thing, obviously made of several layers of laminated wood with leather over it, the whole held solidly together in out-curving triangular kite-shape, with glue and rivets.

  It could be the plate armor Mnrogar was wearing was also a faithful copy of the real thing. It would probably evaporate into nothingness after a certain length of time—probably after the tournament had been over for a day or so—as did all magic-made things, sooner or later. But for now it looked about as actual as everything else in sight.

  "John!" Brian was calling to his squire. "Ready to sound the trumpet!"

  Jim looked over, and saw to his surprise that John Chester was holding a long silver horn, of the kind that royal heralds used, but which were otherwise seldom seen.

  "Where did that come from?" he asked Brian.

  "What? Oh, the Mage," said Brian, "of course. John, one note!"

  John Chester put the trumpet to his lips and sounded a remarkable silvery tone on the bright morning air. Nothing, however, happened, and Jim looked at Brian questioningly.

  "When they're actually at the tournament," said Brian, "there will of course be a delay before another knight rides to the far side of the list to oppose them. It was Carolinus's thought that we should stay to an exact time in everything that the troll and the boar do, so that they will not be confused by differences between the practice and the real."

  Jim nodded. They waited a few more moments, and then the figure of another knight in armor, with helm over his head and riding a bay-colored war horse, appeared on the other side of the barrier at its far end.

  "Sound the ready note, John," said Brian.

  Once more the horn pealed. The knight at the far end of the barrier—or the image of a knight—took his spear from its upright position in its socket and leveled it across his horse's neck with its blunted point aimed ahead and over the barrier.

  Mnrogar did the same. His horse, however, now began to paw the ground and make small diving motions with its head right and left down at the earth.

  "Is he still doing that?" demanded Jim.

  "Of course!" said Brian disgustedly. "Once a boar, always a boar. All the magic in the world can't keep him from wanting to tear up the ground with his tusks to frighten his foe. I tell you, I've given up on that, James. I think it does no harm. It is somewhat strange behavior for a horse; but then Mnrogar with the width of his shoulders and all else is strange enough anyway, so that no one will think anything is amiss. The greater problem is the delay that occurs while the boar does this. But there's no help for it. However, you must remember to have the troll's herald insist that he be the one to sound the three separate notes to start the spear-running… there, the boar is done at last."

  The horse had stopped his unhorselike antics.

  "Sound for the running, John!" called Brian. "Now!"

  A third note of the horn rang out, the figure of the knight at the far end of the list urged his horse forward, and Mnrogar and his black steed also went into movement, rapidly accelerating to a gallop. Mnrogar was now holding his spear level in proper position, across his saddle and pointed over the barrier where its point would make his first contact with the oncoming knight, as soon as he should come within reach.

  Jim watched with fascination. He had seen this for some days now; but the whole thing was almost a little too real to be watched comfortably. The two armored figures sped at each other. They came together, the spear points contacted both suits of armor an instant before the horses passed each other; and the shape of the other knight went flying from his saddle, while his spear broke against the breastplate of Mnrogar's armor.

  Mnrogar rode on, apparently not even jarred in his seat by the impact of the other lance.

  It took twenty yards more for Mnrogar to rein his charger to a halt. Even then he had to jerk the head around, as the boar element of it strained to savage the illusion of the farther barrier with its presently nonexistent tusks. But Mnrogar's strength was more than equal to the task. He pulled the horse around, away from the barrier in a complete turn, and trotted back up to the end where Brian and Jim stood.

  "There's nothing wrong with that!" said Jim happily.

  "Yes," said Brian gloomily. "But will it always go off so smoothly at each spear-running? In short, James, have they learned their duty once and for all, or are they still capable of getting it wrong somehow, without warning?"

  "I don't know," said Jim. "I don't suppose we'll ever know. We'll just have to risk it. Turn them a few more times and see if they're still doing it right."

  They did. Mnrogar and the transformed boar performed beautifully.

  "I don't really see anything wrong with it," said Jim. "Why don't we just consider them ready—unless you can think of some specific other thing that needs to be worked on?"

  "Well," said Brian, more cheerfully than Jim had heard him speak so far, "you may be right, James. Perhaps it would be just borrowing trouble to look for anything else. I agree with you. So far today they've done everything excellently. There are little things, of course—"

  He broke off, looking past Jim, who had his back to Mnrogar and the boar-horse at the moment, the two having just returned from their latest run and come back to take up position in the same spot where Jim had seen them when he had first ridden in this morning.

  "There's that, of course."

  He nodded at whatever was behind Jim and Jim turned. What he saw was that the boar-horse had lain down again, but completely on his side this time. Mnrogar appeared to have gotten off on time. He was standing, wide-legged, a little back from the animal—an even more impressive figure if that could be imagined, now that he was on his feet instead of in the saddle.

  The boar had evidently decided to roll. He proceeded to do so now, grinding the saddle on his back into the snow and frozen earth beneath.

  "Stop that!" shouted Jim, stepping toward the imitation horse. Brian caught his arm and held him back.

  "It's all right," he said. "He does that every time he loses interest in running the list and decides to take a rest. But for some reason, magic, no doubt, it does no hurt to the saddle and gear."

  Jim relaxed. Of course, the saddle was as much a piece of unreality as all the other out-of-the-ordinary things around them. Mnrogar was taking off his helmet; and in a moment his menacing troll face glared at them from above the steel-clad shoulders.

  "John! Theoluf!" snapped Brian. "Assist Mnrogar from his armor."

  The two squires came forward and began to obey.

  "But there is one matter, James," said Brian. "One point you must make most clear to any herald you find to do the troll's speaking for him. It must be made very clear that Mnrogar will not accept whatever prize is offered to the winning knight of the day. He must say he scorns any such token, wanting only to show those here that none have any hope of unhorsing him."

  Jim stared.

  "But Brian, that would ruin the whole point of doing this!" Jim said.

  It was as if the world had just come tumbling down around his ears all at once. The Black Knight had to win the tournament prize. How else could Mnrogar have the chance to ride slowly past all the guests in the stand and smell out the disguised troll among the guests?

  Surely, Jim thought, he had gotten this clear to Brian earlier? Or had he?


  Chapter 30

  Clearly, decided Jim, he had not. Brian was staring at him with a stern, cold look on that usually cheerful, friendly face, a look that Jim had never seen on him before.

  "Surely, James," Brian said, "you did not think I would lend myself to the making of an occasion on which a troll, unfairly kept in magic armor and mounted on a magic steed, and trained beyond anything of which he would be normally capable, would win the day against belted knights who have won their sword and spurs, each by proof of courage and virtue in true combat against their equals? It is one thing to make a play or a show for some good end, or for the amusement of all; but to appear to shame all chivalry and true, brave gentlemen by making them to seem less than a denned, foul creature, which all men rightly normally destroy on sight—and which, by Saint Anthony, without magic armor and magic horse, would run like a hare from an armored knight with lance in hand and a-horse!"

  "Of course! Yes, I know what you mean," said Jim hurriedly. His mind was scrambling desperately for the proper answer. "You're quite right, Brian. I'll admit my own fault, and shame for that matter, for not having thought the matter through to what should have been so obvious to me. Of course, you're right. Mnrogar must not win the day. At the same time, Brian, he has to have a chance to ride up along the stands to smell out the disguised troll there. Let me think."

  He thought desperately. Brian waited, his face still stern and judgmental.

  "I have it!" said Jim, on a sudden flash of inspiration. "Of course! There wouldn't be any shame to any of the knights being overcome, once it was realized that the only reason they failed to win was because there was unfair magic on the side of their opponent. Would there?"

  For the first time, Brian's face relaxed a little.

  "If all present know," he said. "But, James, what is the purpose of keeping his real person and nature hidden in the armor and with the blank shield, if it is to be revealed afterward that it was all only magic?"