“Oh,” she said.
A few paces later she asked, “What were you planning to eat, if we're leaving the road?”
He stopped dead in his tracks. “I hadn't thought of that,” he admitted.
Seldis stared at him with an unreadable expression. “What did you eat on the way down?” she inquired.
“Squirrels, mostly,” he said.
She sighed. “I think,” she said, “that we had best go back to the Burning Pine and buy some provisions. With more of my money, of course.”
Shame-faced, he agreed, and they retraced their steps.
When they reached Laskros Wuller pointed out a bakery and a smokeshop, so they did not in fact return to the Burning Pine for food. They did, however, buy three more blankets there. Wuller was proud of himself for thinking of that, and thought it partly compensated for his earlier foolishness.
There were no other delays, but the shopping expedition was enough to force them to sleep by the roadside that night, without having left the highway. Wuller refused to travel after the light began to fade, for fear of missing his trail, so the two of them settled down a dozen yards from the road, built a fire, and ate a leisurely dinner of sweet rolls and smoked mutton.
They chatted quietly about trivial matters—friends and family, favorite tales, and the like, never mentioning dragons or anything else unpleasant. When they were tired, they curled up in their separate blankets and went to sleep.
The next day they proceeded slowly, watching for marks, and at mid-morning or slightly thereafter Wuller spotted a pine branch with the bark curled back on the top—the mark he had used.
Standing under that branch he could see the next, and from that one the next.
Retracing his steps from tree to tree, they left the road and headed cross-country, back toward his home village.
They slept two more nights in the forest, but late the following afternoon Wuller recognized the landscape beyond any question, and a moment later Seldis spotted smoke from the village fires drifting above the trees.
They waited, and crept into the village under cover of darkness, making their way silently to Wuller's own home.
When Wuller swung the door inward he heard his father bellow, “Who the hell is it at this hour?”
He peered around the door and said, “It's me, Wuller. I'm back.”
Wulran was speechless. He stared silently as Wuller stepped inside, and as Wuller then gave Seldis a helping hand up the stoop.
The two travelers dropped their packs to the floor. Wuller pointed out a chair to Seldis, who settled into it gratefully and then put her tired feet up on another.
“You can sleep in Aunt Illuré's room, I guess,” Wuller told her. He turned back to his father for confirmation, and was astonished to see old Wulran weeping silently, tears dripping down his beard on either side.
15
Wuller and Seldis arose late and spent the morning resting, soaking their tired feet and generally recovering from their journey. Meanwhile, Wuller's family scurried about the village, passing the word of his return and his success in finding the girl the oracle had shown them. A council meeting was called for that evening to discuss the next step.
Shortly after lunch, while Illuré was showing Seldis around the village, Wulran gestured for Wuller to come sit by him.
The lad obeyed, a trife warily.
“Wuller,” the old man whispered, “you know what Alasha thinks, don't you?”
“About what?” Wuller asked.
“About this girl you brought back—about how she's to rid us of the dragon.”
Wuller thought he knew what his father meant, but he hesitated before saying anything.
“She's to be a sacrifice,” Wulran said. “That's what Alasha thinks. We may have to feed her to the dragon.”
Wuller's thoughts were turbulent; he struggled to direct them enough to get words out, and failed.
“It's necessary,” Wulran said. “Give up one life, and a foreigner at that, so that we all can live.”
“We don't know that,” Wuller protested. “We don't know if it's necessary or not!”
Wulran shrugged. “True,” he said, “we don't know for sure, but can you think of any other way that fragile little thing could rid us of the dragon?”
Wuller didn't answer at first, because in truth, he could not. At last he managed, weakly, “She knows tricks, family secrets.”
“She may know the ritual of sacrifice, I suppose,” Wulran said.
Wuller could stand no more; he rose and marched off.
Wulran watched him go, and was satisfied when he saw that his son was not immediately heading off in search of the Aldagmorite girl, to warn her of her fate.
Wuller wanted to think before he did anything rash. He looked up at the mountaintop, where the dragon was sunning itself, and then around at the village, where his kin were all busily going about their everyday business. The sheep were out on the upslope meadows, and the smith's forge was quiet, the fires banked, but villagers were hauling water, or stacking firewood, or sitting on benches carding wool. To the west of the smithy, the downwind side, a hardwood rick was being burnt down for charcoal.
He pulled the rather battered charcoal portrait out of his sleeve and looked at it.
Seldis’ face looked back at him.
He rolled the picture up and stuffed it back in his sleeve. Then he looked around.
Illuré and Seldis had been down to the stream, and were returning with buckets of water. Wuller thought about running over to them and snatching Seldis away, heading back south with her, away from the village—but he didn't move. He stood and watched as she and Illuré brought their pails to the cistern and dumped them in.
Seldis was not stupid enough to have come all this way just to die, he told himself. She surely knew what she was doing. She would have some way to kill the dragon, some magical trade secret her father had taught her.
At least, he hoped so.
16
As the villagers gathered in Wulran's main room, that worthy pulled his son aside and whispered, “We'll listen to what the girl has to say, but then we may need to get her out of here for awhile. You understand. If that happens, you take her out and make sure she can't overhear anything. Later on we'll let you know where to bring her.”
Wuller nodded unhappily, then took a seat in the corner.
He understood perfectly. He was to be the traitor ram who would lead Seldis to the slaughter, if it came to that.
A few minutes later Wulran closed the door and announced, “I think everybody's here.”
A sudden expectant silence fell as the quiet chatter died away.
“I think you all know what's happened,” Wulran said. “My son Wuller went south to find the girl the oracle showed us, and damn me if he didn't find her and bring her back, all in less than a month. The gods must like us, to make it as easy as that!”
He smiled broadly, and several polite smiles appeared in response.
“She's here now,” he continued, “so let's bring her on out and get down to business!” He waved to Illuré, who led Seldis to the center of the room.
A murmur ran through the gathering at the sight of her.
“I am Seldis of Aldagmor,” the girl announced. Several people looked startled, as if, Wuller thought, they hadn't expected her to talk. They had been thinking of her as a thing, rather than a person, he guessed—the easier to sacrifice her to the dragon.
Wuller suppressed a growl at the thought. What good would sacrificing anybody do?
“My family has fought and killed dragons since the days of the Great War,” Seldis continued, “and I think I ought to be able to rid you of this one. First, though, I need to know everything about it, and what you've already tried. Wuller Wulran's son told me a little on the journey up here from Sardiron, but I need to know everything.”
Several voices spoke up in reply, but after a moment's confusion matters straightened themselves out. Kirna told the tale of the drag
on's arrival and the death of Adar the Smith, and of the ancient sorcerous oracle and the image it had shown them. Her sister Alasha corrected her on various details, and Wulran interjected commentary as he thought appropriate.
Seldis listened, and asked a question every so often—did the dragon seem to favor one side over the other when it ripped the smith apart, or did it use both foreclaws equally? Was its flight steady, like a hawk's, or did it bob slightly, like a crow?
“ ...so we all agreed that Wuller should go, and the next morning he did,” Kirna concluded, “while we all waited here. From there on, lady, you know better than we.”
Seldis nodded. “And what did you do while you waited?” she asked.
The villagers looked at her and at one another in surprise.
“Nothing,” Alasha said. “We just waited.”
Seldis blinked. “You didn't try anything else?” she asked.
Several people shook their heads.
“And you hadn't tried anything else before you talked to this oracle?”
“No,” Kirna said. “What could we try? We saw what it did to Adar!”
Seldis stared around at the gathered villagers, and Wuller knew that she was trying hard to conceal genuine astonishment.
What had she expected them to try, he wondered.
Seldis closed her lips into a thin line, and then said, “Well, you haven't been very much help, not having tried anything, but I certainly know what I'm going to try first. I can't believe none of you ever thought to try it. You feed the beast a sheep every day, don't you?”
Heads nodded, and Wulran said, “Yes.”
“Then I'll need about two dozen little pouches,” Seldis said. “Pigs’ bladders would be perfect. I didn't see many pigs around, though, so sheep bladders would do. Sausage casing should work, or even leather purses, if they're sewn very tightly. They need to be small enough to stuff down a sheep's throat—but not too small, and it doesn't matter if it hurts the sheep.”
A confused murmur ran through the room.
Wuller blinked, puzzled. He glanced at his father in time to see Wulran giving him a meaningful stare and making a wiggling gesture with one finger.
His father thought Seldis was mad, he realized.
He rebelled mentally at that. He had spent a sixnight with her, and he knew she was not mad. Whatever she intended to do had to be a dragonhunter's trick, not a madwoman's folly.
And whatever it was, he would help her with it.
17
The meeting broke up quickly after that. Seldis refused to explain what she had in mind. Most of the people didn't seem to think she really had anything in mind, but everyone agreed to let her have a day to make her attempt.
Wulran managed another surreptitious chat with his son, and made it quite clear to Wuller that it was his duty to keep an eye on Seldis and make sure she didn't slip away.
Wuller agreed, unhappily, not to let her out of his sight.
After breakfast the next morning Seldis rose from the table, stretched, and said, “I'm going for a walk to gather some herbs. Could someone lend me a basket? A big one?”
Illuré produced one that Seldis found suitable, and the three of them, Seldis, Illuré, and Wuller, strolled out into the woods beyond the village.
They walked for several minutes in companionable silence, enjoying the warm spring weather. Wuller glanced at Illuré, and then at Seldis, and then back at his aunt.
He had no desire to play traitor ram. If he could get Seldis away from Illuré he would warn her what the elders had in mind, and give her a chance to slip away.
Just then Seldis said, “I don't see what I'm looking for anywhere. Illuré, where can I find wolfsbane or nightshade around here?”
“Find what?” Illuré said, startled. “I never heard of those; what are they?”
Seldis looked at Illuré, equally startled. “Why, they're plants, fairly common ones. Wolfsbane has little flowers with hoods on them; on the sort that would be blooming at this time of year the blossoms are yellow and very small, but the other kinds can have blue or purple or white flowers.”
“I never heard of it,” Illuré said, “and I don't think I've ever seen it. Are you sure it grows around here?”
“Maybe not,” Seldis said, her expression worried. “What about nightshade?”
“What is it?” Illuré asked.
Seldis said, “Well, it's got flowers like little bells, dark red ones, and little black berries.”
Illuré stood and puzzled for a moment.
“I don't think we have that, either,” she said at last. “If you want flowers, we have daisies.”
“No, I don't want flowers!” Seldis snapped.
“Well, then, what do you want?” Illuré asked.
“Never mind. Let's just go back.” She turned and headed toward the village.
Wuller and Illuré followed her, baffled.
Wuller glanced at Illuré, wondering if this might be the best chance they would have for Seldis to slip away, but then he decided to wait. The Aldagmorite seemed far more worried than she had earlier, but still not frightened; Wuller thought she must still have something in mind, even without her magical herbs.
In the village they found Wulran glowering at them from his doorstep, and Kirna sitting nearby with a basket full of sausage casings. Other villagers were watching from a safe distance.
“Will these do?” Kirna asked, displaying her basket.
Seldis shook her head. “Those would be perfect,” she said, “but I'm afraid my idea won't work. I couldn't find what I needed. I guess I'll have to think of something else.”
Wulran snorted. “Lady,” he said, “I guess you will, and quickly. The oracle said you could save us from the dragon, but you won't do it by wandering the hills, and we can't risk your wandering off completely. From now on, you'll stay here, in the village, under guard.”
“But...” Seldis began.
“No argument!” Wulran shouted. The other villagers murmured.
Seldis didn't argue. At Wulran's direction, she was led into the house and sent into Illuré's room, where new brackets were set on either side of the door, and a bar placed across.
The window, too, was barred, and Seldis was a prisoner.
Wuller, quite involuntarily, found himself appointed her gaoler.
“She's mad, and the mad are dangerous,” his father explained, out of her hearing, “but she trusts you. She'll stay if you guard her. And if she can tell us how to kill the dragon, all well and good, but if she can't then we'll put her out as tomorrow's sacrifice. That must be what the oracle intended in the first place.”
Wuller didn't try to argue. He knew Seldis was not mad, but he had no idea what she had been planning, and also saw that his father was frightened and angry and would brook no discussion.
Something would have to be done, of course, but not with words.
Wuller settled down at the door to Seldis’ improvised cell and waited.
Early in the afternoon, when everyone else had grown bored and left, he called in to her, “What's so special about those plants you wanted?”
“Am I allowed to speak now, then?” she asked sarcastically.
“Of course you are. Listen, I'm very sorry about all this; it's not my fault!”
“Oh, I know, but it's so stupid! There's nothing magical about dragon-killing; it's easy, if you put a little thought into it. Everyone around here is just too scared to think! What good does it do to lock me up like this?”
“It keeps you from running away,” Wuller said, a bit hesitantly.
“But that's idiotic. After walking all the way up here, why would I run away now?”
“Because...” Wuller began, and then stopped.
If she didn't already know she was to be sacrificed, would it do any good to tell her?
Maybe not.
“Never mind that for now,” he said instead. “What's so special about those plants?”
“They're poisonous. Wuller, wha
t are you hiding? What are they ... oh, no. They aren't really that stupid and superstitious, are they? A maiden sacrifice, is that what they're planning?”
Wuller didn't answer. Her answer to his question had brought sudden comprehension. He thought for a moment, and saw it all—not merely what Seldis had originally planned, but what they could do instead.
“Wuller? Are you there?” she called through the door.
“I'm here,” he said, “and don't worry. Just wait until tonight. Trust me.”
"Trust you?” She laughed bitterly.
18
When Wuller brought in her dinner Seldis refused to speak to him; she glared silently, and after a muttered apology he didn't press it.
Later, though, when the others were all asleep, he carefully unbarred the door, moving slowly to avoid making noise or bumping anything with the heavy bar.
“Come on,” he whispered.
She stepped out quickly. “Where?” she asked. “Are you just letting me go?”
He shook his head. “No, no,” he said, “we're going to kill the dragon, just as you planned. I've got a sheep tied outside, and Kirna left the basket of sausage casings; everything's ready.”
“You found wolfsbane? Or nightshade?”
“No,” he said. “Those don't grow around here.”
Seldis started to protest.
“Hush! It's all right, really. I know what I'm doing. Come on, and don't make any more noise!”
She came.
In the morning Wulran found his son sound asleep, leaning against the barred door of Illuré's bedroom. Wuller looked rather dirtier and more rumpled than Wulran remembered him being the night before, and Wulran looked the lad over suspiciously.
He hoped that Wuller hadn't gone and done anything stupid.
He wondered if there was anything to the stories about dragons demanding virgins for sacrifice.
How could a dragon tell, though?
More magic at work, presumably.
Whatever magic was involved, Wulran hoped that the girl was still in there to be sacrificed, and hadn't slipped out in the night. What if the boy's dirt came from chasing through the woods after her?
The Blood of a Dragon Page 29
