"And he just took it down? Like that?" said Jim. "Why, that—"
He choked on his own words; then, suddenly, all the anger in him drained away, leaving him feeling briefly exhausted. It was no use. Carolinus was as he was; everybody here in this time in this world were like they were. You lived with them or else—there was really no choice in the matter.
"Jim!" said Angie. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, really," said Jim. He looked through a crack between two planks, above the manger, and saw that the stands were close to being filled. Not only that, but Carolinus's red robe was conspicuous in the middle of them; and the Earl, Agatha Falon and the Prince were also there to the magician's right. Jim came back to Angie.
"The Earl's here already," he said. "He's used to things starting the moment he arrives. It's almost twilight. We better not delay. Do you want to go out and start now?"
"Any time," said Angie cheerfully. "But Jim, there is something wrong!"
"No. No, actually there isn't," said Jim. "I get a little worn down by being here in the fourteenth century, sometimes, that's all. Pay no attention."
Angie hugged him, kissed him and went around the corner of the wall out in front of the audience.
Feeling better, and thoroughly angry with himself for feeling better after being consoled, Jim went back to the crack between the two planks he had located before.
I'm not four years old, he growled to himself… but perhaps in some corner of him he was. The crack gave him a view out over the manger from which he could see Angie and nearly all the audience in the stands. He had told Angie to speak just in an ordinary voice; and he would make sure everybody could hear her.
Now he concentrated on visualizing her voice being—not so much amplified—as simply reaching out to everyone in the stands; as if she was speaking just a few feet in front of each one of them. Hastily, at the last minute, he remembered to also have her voice come to his ears in the same way, so he could check on whether the magic was working or not.
He was reassured it had been wise to make things work that way, once she began to speak. Her voice came as easily and clearly to his own ears as if she was standing beside him.
"My Lord Prince of England, my Lord Earl, my Lord Bishop, and all other lords, gentlemen and ladies here assembled," she said.
She was doing a marvelous job of it, Jim thought admiringly, peering between the two planks. That stage training of hers was standing her in good stead. Angie went on.
"—On this last eve of our gathering this Christmas, by the gracious permission of our Lord Prince, my Lord Earl, and my Lord Bishop, I wish to present to you all a famous legend of our Lord Jesus Christ, fitting to this holy time and place. After I have told what took place, you will see it acted, taking place again here, before your eyes."
She paused.
"I will now begin," she said.
She paused again.
"As the writings of a holy man tell us, there came a time in the early life of Christ, our Lord, when word came to Herod, King over all the land at that time, that there was a child born who would himself come to be King.
"At this Herod was suddenly fearful that the child so spoken of would rise to take his place as King. Therefore, he, Herod, made an order that all the children under four years of age should be slain forthwith, that none should survive and whoever among them was the child who might be King would also be slain."
She paused—but this time because of the angry growl from the stands. Once it had died away, she went on.
"Word of this came to Mary and Joseph, and they resolved to take our young Lord Christ to Egypt, where he would be safely out of the way of the men sent forth by Herod to kill all the children.
"So they went forth; and with them went representatives of all the animals; the lion, the ox, the ass, the horse, the camel, all the many animals went with them to guard them along the way; and after they had been traveling some days, it happened that they were out without shelter when night fell. So Joseph built a fire, and set up a shelter for Mary and the Child; and the animals lay all around to guard.
"And so they slept the night."
She paused.
"But when the morning came, and the sun rose, they awoke, they and the beasts that had lain about to guard them, they all—Mary, Joseph and the Lord Christ, himself—saw, by the early light of the sun, a little ways away to their right, a place of rocks with trees thick among them. And from those trees in that same light they saw all at once huge dragons coming toward them.
"The animals and the beasts were afraid and drew away. Joseph was afraid.
"But Christ spoke from the place where he lay to his father, saying:
" 'Fear not, Joseph, for remember what the Prophet David hath said: "Praise the Lord from the earth, Ye dragons, and all deeps." These dragons have only come to be blessed. Let them approach, that I may bless them.' "
She waited a moment to let the words linger in the minds of the audience; and then went on.
"Then Joseph was no longer afraid. He stood aside, and the dragons came forward quietly and meekly to the place where the Holy Child lay. And the Lord Christ blessed them and they were glad and went forth, harming nothing."
There was a drawn-out murmur of general pleasure and awe from the stands.
"Watch now, therefore," said Angie, "and you will see all this happen, from its very beginning."
She turned and went back around the corner of the set to where Jim was, out of sight with him behind it.
"Ready?" she said to him. He nodded. "Have you any idea of what you're going to say?" Angie went on.
"Oh, yes," said Jim, taking his eyes from the crack, "I don't worry about that. You and I can follow each other, ad-lib, without any trouble."
"I think so, too," said Angie. "Now I'll go back out, around the corner I came back around just now; and you go around the other corner so we meet in front. And let me speak first, all right?"
Jim nodded.
"Then you can start your dialogue by answering me," said Angie.
"Right," said Jim.
They turned their backs on each other and went out around different ends of the set and came forward in front of it to meet with perhaps ten feet between them. They both turned to face the audience.
"I am Mary!" Angie announced. She turned and pointed to Jim. "And he is Joseph."
The audience acknowledged this with another pleased murmur.
"And in the manger there," said Angie, turning and pointing at it, "lies the little Christ child."
Hastily, Jim projected at the audience a snatch of the sound of a very young child's pleased cooing.
The response from the audience this time was considerably more vocal, with some near-shrieks mixed in with it, whether of pleasure or astonishment Jim could not tell. He hurried to project his own voice to the audience.
"Mary," he said, peering into the sunset-red western sky under the palm of his hand, "night draws near, and there is no shelter in sight. I fear me we must spend until morning in this wild place. But fear not, I will build a shelter, for you and the babe, and I shall lie outside it all night on watch; while the good beasts lie around me and all of us on guard; for there are some trees and rocks and dark places that I mislike greatly. However, with the Lord's protection we will be safe."
"I do not doubt it, my husband," said Angie clearly; and, turning, went to the manger and apparently began talking to the happily still-sleeping Robert. The audience voiced their entire approval of this last statement of hers.
Jim realized that now was the time in which he was supposed to go through the motions of lying down and going to sleep. He had forgotten that it meant putting the side of his face into about four inches of snow. However, there was nothing too much to be done about it, so, turning his back to the audience, he lay down, watching Angie who was still going through the motions of Mary paying attention to her child. This was his chance, it suddenly occurred to him. It offered him a golden opportunity to check on th
e dragons and their entrance on the scene.
He puzzled for a little while, with his left check uncomfortably in the snow, figuring out exactly how what he wanted to do might be accomplished magically. Then, without anything in the way of visible movement the audience could see, he substituted an image of himself to occupy his place in the snow in front of the set, and his actual self was projected off into the trees to appear wherever the dragons might be gathered, listening to the story, waiting for the play itself and some of them—not more than the original five he had specified—planning to come out.
He had aimed at appearing before Secoh, and so he did. Used to him as the dragon was, and to the magic things that happened around Jim, Secoh was still considerably startled and half spread his wings involuntarily when Jim appeared before him.
"M'Lord," he gasped. "I didn't expect to see you—"
"Quiet!" said Jim hastily, cutting him off in mid-syllable; for the dragons were now just barely out of sight behind the trees close to the manger and Secoh had spoken in something very close to a normal dragon voice, volume and tones—which could have been heard by the audience.
"All of you," said Jim to the hushed Secoh and the other dragons. "Be very quiet—particularly those to be blessed. Secoh, now tell me, are the five of you who are to come out, ready?"
"Yes, m'Lord," said Secoh. "Me, and Gorbash, Tigatal, Norganosh and Arghnach."
"Good. You first, Secoh, then the other four. Now," said Jim, raising his voice to speak past Secoh and the dragons just before him, "the young Prince will actually bless all of you dragons here, even the ones still back in the woods—so no one should feel left out. Just listen carefully to what he says."
A deep-voiced murmur of satisfaction came from the surrounding forest.
"Now, I've got to get back to the play," said Jim. "When I look into the woods and say, 'The dragons come—' then the five of you come out and up to the manger; but stop about ten feet from it, a little to one side, possibly in front of the ox; because the ass is liable to get excited and start plunging around if it sees dragons coming close—on second thought, forget about that. I can take care of that matter with magic. But anyway, don't come any closer than the ox's stall. That's so the audience can still see the manger holding the Christ child. Otherwise they're likely to get excited and think the Christ child is going to come to some harm."
"Oh, we won't, m'Lord," said Secoh.
"Excellent!" said Jim. "I'll leave you, then."
He turned and hurried off through the woods. Just before he came out behind the set, however, he found his way barred by Aargh.
"Aargh!" he said. "I'm glad to see you here—"
"You may be more glad later on," said Aargh. "The twins have finally got up their nerve to attack Mnrogar; and the other trolls will be coming in to watch. But you'd better tell all those two-legged ones in the stands that the rest of the trolls are only watching."
"Are they coming right away?" asked Jim. "I mean, will they interrupt the play?"
"No," said Aargh. He laughed his silent laugh. "The trolls are enjoying your performance too—believe it or not. They don't know what's going on, but it's something they've never seen before and they want to see it through. That is, all but the twins. They might decide to attack Mnrogar at any time; but I think they need to work themselves up some more to it, yet."
"Thanks for telling me," said Jim. "Now I really have to get back. Is Mnrogar still where he was sitting before?"
"He is," said Aargh. "And puzzling your people in the stands, very much indeed. Since he hasn't moved at all, they're not as worried about him as they might be if he'd been prowling up and down. But if he moves, every eye there is going to be on him."
"Thanks. Fine," said Jim. "You'll stick close yourself?"
"I'll be here," said Aargh, "if only to see what happens."
"Good," said Jim, and ran off toward the set.
He did not stop at the back of the set, even to peer through the crack. He simply paused for a moment at the corner of it to get his breath back, then went through the visualization in his mind that would substitute himself for the simulacrum he had made, and returned to the snow where he had been to begin with.
He found himself with his cheek once more pressed down into iciness; and got up more quickly than he had intended.
He stretched, glancing at Angie. She was standing up from the seat he had made her next to the manger, with a relieved look on her face.
"Ah," said Jim to the audience, "it is morning. How glad I am to see the daylight. To think that I was worried about what might come out of those rocks and trees last night. Why, I can look at them now and see—"
He had turned his head and body dramatically toward the forest and was just about to extend his arm to announce the dragons, when there was a shriek from someone in the stands.
"Trolls!" cried a voice—high-pitched, but whether male and excited, or female, could not be told at this distance.
"Trolls all around us! They're coming to kill us!"
The people in the stands rose as one body; and at the same time Jim, looking around the clearing, saw trolls appearing everywhere between the trees. They might not be attacking, as the voice in the stands had assumed, but they had certainly moved into a position to attack, if the twins' success over Mnrogar should show them the way.
He searched his mind frantically for some word that would calm the audience; but at this moment, Mnrogar changed from a statue to a living troll. He stood up abruptly—erect and suddenly massive like a giant sprung from the earth; and the setting sun red between the lower tree trunks behind him cast his black shadow long, long, to the far end of the clearing; where a clump of visible trolls drew back from it, revealing the two challengers among them.
"Mnrogar!" cried the twin voices in perfect unison. "I come for you now!"
And, still in perfect unison, screaming as they went, they raced across the open snow toward the waiting Mnrogar.
Chapter 44
Mnrogar did not move. The twins continued their screaming, their arms held high, their talons arched toward him; but as they reached the mid-point of the distance between the woods and Mnrogar, they began to slow, and their slowing became rapidly greater until they came to a halt.
They stared a moment at Mnrogar, who was still impassive, then turned abruptly and yelled at the trolls directly behind them, clustered at the edge of the woods.
"What are you waiting for?" cried the wild, paired voices. "I told you I'd take care of Mnrogar; you can have all the others. That was the agreement. There are more of you than there are of them. Why do you wait?"
The twins pointed at the Creche scene.
"There are even two there without sharp things and a pup you can have for no trouble at all; and still you hang back. Now, follow me!"
The trolls at the edge of the wood moved out, into the clearing but not with any great speed.
There was a sudden bellow from the stands and the equally sudden glitter of swords, as men-at-arms and gentlemen poured down from the stands and onto the open space. But then both they and the trolls checked abruptly, as there was a different sound of anger from the forest close to the western side of the set and behind it—a swelling roar such as only dragons could make. Dragons about to be deprived of their blessing.
The twins had already started another rush toward Mnrogar again and had already covered half the distance. But they stopped at that sound, also, and turned toward it. For a moment, everything on the field was motionless.
It had only been a warning roar, as Jim had recognized. The reaction that produced that sound from dragons was instinctive. But the trolls already knew the dragons were there; and this intrusion by them on top of the failure of the twins to carry through their initial rush confused them; while the people in the stands had been literally stunned by the sound, which they had recognized as quickly as the trolls.
For a moment the silence lasted; then a single voice almost wailed from the stands.
"Get Sir Dragon!" it cried. "Where is Sir Dragon?"
It was Jim's turn to be, if not stunned, startled. Then he remembered from his medieval studies how, after plays had been put on in the Middle Ages, the actors would come forward and remind the audience that they were not the characters they had been portraying.
The man who had played the part of the devil—for most of the plays were religious plays—would come forth and say, "Look, it's just me, your old neighbor. I'm not really the devil—" And, turning to whatever principal holy figure was among the characters, he would start to chat with him about their ordinary, everyday affairs in life; just to reassure the audience that there was no touch of devilishness still clinging to him. He was really not the figure that had sent chills down the backbones of imaginative watchers.
The moment of uncertainty, with everything in the balance and nothing moving, held for a second longer; and in that moment Jim's urgent mind leaped to an idea like a spark from the end of a wire to its ground. Something was needed to shake the nerves of the other trolls just a little more; and he had suddenly remembered the aurora borealis, the northern lights, which on these frosty nights would sometimes display their colors over half or more of the sky.
It was not quite close enough to night for the lights ordinarily to show. But Jim made an effort with his magic to visualize them painting the sky anyhow.
It worked.
From behind the westward trees and out of the red sunset sky sprang great streamers and waves of color—yellow, green and a finer, lighter red than that of the sunset, arching across the heavens. Heads turned upward, human and troll alike.
Jim made his voice huge, and spoke as if from some point high above the clearing.
The Dragon, the Earl ,and the Troll Page 49
