Yes, the innkeeper told them, there were plenty of dragons in the Motolian Forest. “But fear them not,” said Kasmar in broken Helladic. “From being hunted, they have become wary and even timid. An’ ye stick to the road and move yarely, they’ll pester you not unless ye surprise or corner one.”
“Have any dragons been devouring maidens fair lately?” asked Eudoric.
Kasmar laughed. “Nay, good Master. What were maidens fair doing, traipsing round the woods to stir up the beasties? Leave them be, I say, and they’ll do the same by you.”
A cautious instinct warned Eudoric not to speak of his quest. After he and Jillo had rested and had renewed their equipment, they set out, two days later, into the Motolian Forest. They rode for a league along the Velitchovo road. Then Eudoric, accoutered in full plate and riding Morgrim, led his companion off the road into the woods to southward. They threaded their way among the trees, ducking branches, in a wide sweep around. Steering by the sun, Eudoric brought them back to the road near Liptai.
The next day they did the same, except that their circuit was to the north of the highway.
After three more days of this exploration, Jillo became restless. “Good Master, what do we, circling round and about so bootlessly? The dragons dwell farther east, away from the haunts of men, they say.”
“Having once been lost in the woods,” said Eudoric, “I would not repeat the experience. Therefore do we scout our field of action, like a general scouting a future battlefield.”
“ ’Tis an arid business,” said Jillo with a shrug. “But then, ye were always one to see further into a millstone than most.”
At last, having thoroughly committed the byways of the nearer forest to memory, Eudoric led Jillo farther east. After casting about, they came at last upon the unmistakable tracks of a dragon. The animal had beaten a path through the brush, along which they could ride almost as well as on the road. When they had followed this track for above an hour, Eudoric became aware of a strong, musky stench.
“My lance, Jillo!” said Eudoric, trying to keep his voice from rising with nervousness.
The next bend in the path brought them into full view of the dragon, a thirty-footer facing them on the trail.
“Ha!” said Eudoric. “Meseems ’tis a mere cockadrill, albeit longer of neck and of limb than those that dwell in the rivers of Agisymba—if the pictures in Doctor Baldonius’ books lie not. Have at thee, vile worm!”
Eudoric couched his lance and put spurs to Morgrim. The destrier bounded forward.
The dragon raised its head and peered this way and that, as if it could not see well. As the hoofbeats drew nearer, the dragon opened its jaws and uttered a loud, hoarse, groaning bellow.
At that, Morgrim checked his rush with stiffened forelegs, spun ponderously on his haunches, and veered off the trail into the woods. Jillo’s palfrey bolted likewise, but in another direction. The dragon set out after Eudoric at a shambling trot.
Eudoric had not gone fifty yards when Morgrim passed close aboard a massive old oak, a thick limb of which jutted into their path. The horse ducked beneath the bough. The branch caught Eudoric across the breastplate, flipped him backward over the high cantle of his saddle, and swept him to earth with a great clatter.
Half stunned, he saw the dragon trot closer and closer—and then lumber past him, almost within arm’s length, and disappear on the trail of the fleeing horse. The next that Eudoric knew, Jillo was bending over him, crying:
“Alas, my poor heroic Master! Be any bones broke, sir?”
“All of them, methinks,” groaned Eudoric. “What’s befallen Morgrim?”
“That I know not. And look at this dreadful dent in your beauteous cuirass!”
“Help me out of the thing. The dent pokes most sorely into my ribs. The misadventures I suffer for my dear Lusina!”
“We must get your breastplate to a smith to have it hammered out and filed smooth again.”
“Fiends take the smiths! They’d charge half the cost of a new one. I’ll fix it myself, if I can find a flat rock to set it on and a big stone wherewith to pound it.”
“Well, sir,” said Jillo, “ye were always a good man of your hands. But the mar will show, and that were not suitable for one of your quality.”
“Thou mayst take my quality and stuff it!” cried Eudoric. “Canst speak of nought else? Help me up, pray.” He got slowly to his feet, wincing, and limped a few steps.
“At least,” he said, “nought seems fractured. But I misdoubt I can walk back to Liptai.”
“Oh, sir, that were not to be thought of! Me allow you to wend afoot whilst I ride? Fiends take the thought!” Jillo unhitched the palfrey from the tree to which he had tethered it and led it to Eudoric.
“I accept your courtesy, good Jillo, only because I must. To plod the distance afoot were but a condign punishment for so bungling my charge. Give me a boost, will you?” Eudoric grunted as Jillo helped him into the saddle.
“Tell me, sir,” said Jillo, “why did the beast ramp on past you without stopping to devour you as ye lay helpless? Was’t that Morgrim promised a more bounteous repast? Or that the monster feared that your plate would give him a disorder of the bowels?”
“Meseems ’twas neither. Marked you how gray and milky appeared its eyes? According to Doctor Baldonius’ book, dragons shed their skins from time to time, like serpents. This one neared the time of its skin change, wherefore the skin over its eyeballs had become thickened and opaque, like glass of poor quality. Therefore it could not plainly discern objects lying still, and pursued only those that moved.”
They got back to Liptai after dark. Both were barely able to stagger, Eudoric from his sprains and bruises and Jillo footsore from the unaccustomed three-league hike.
Two days later, when they had recovered, they set out on the two palfreys to hunt for Morgrim. “For,” Eudoric said, “that nag is worth more in solid money than all the rest of my possessions together.”
Eudoric rode unarmored save for a shirt of light mesh mail, since the palfrey could not carry the extra weight of the plate all day at a brisk pace. He bore his lance and sword, however, in case they should again encounter a dragon.
The found the site of the previous encounter, but no sign either of the dragon or of the destrier. Eudoric and Jillo tracked the horse by its prints in the soft mold for a few bowshots, but then the slot faded out on harder ground.
“Still, I misdoubt Morgrim fell victim to the beast,” said Eudoric. “He could show clean heels to many a steed of lighter build, and from its looks the dragon was no courser.”
After hours of fruitless searching, whistling, and calling, they returned to Liptai. For a small fee, Eudoric was allowed to post a notice in Helladic on the town notice board, offering a reward for the return of his horse.
No words, however, came of the sighting of Morgrim. For all that Eudoric could tell, the destrier might have run clear to Velitchovo.
“You are free with advice, good Jillo,” said Eudoric. “Well, rede me this riddle. We’ve established that our steeds will bolt from the sight and smell of dragon, for which I blame them little. Had we all the time in the world, we could doubtless train them to face the monsters, beginning with a stuffed dragon, and then, perchance, one in a cage in some monarch’s menagerie. But our lucre dwindles like the snow in spring. What’s to do?”
“Well, if the nags won’t stand, needs we must face the worms on foot,” said Jillo.
“That seems to me to throw away our lives to no good purpose, for these vasty lizards can outrun and outturn us and are well harnessed to boot. Barring the luckiest of lucky thrusts with the spear—as, say, into the eye or down the gullet—that fellow we erst encountered could make one mouthful of my lance and another of me.”
“Your knightly courage were sufficient defense, sir. The Divine Pair would surely grant victory to the right.”
“From all I’ve read of battles and feuds,” said Eudoric, “methinks the Holy Couple’s attention o
ft strays elsewhither when they should be deciding the outcome of some mundane fray.”
“That is the trouble with reading; it undermines one’s faith in the True Religion. But ye could be at least as well armored as the dragon, in your panoply of plate.”
“Aye, but then poor Daisy could not bear so much weight to the site—or, at least, bear it thither and have breath left for a charge. We must be as chary of our beasts’ welfare as of our own, for without them ’tis a long walk back to Trevaria. Nor do I deem that we should like to pass our lives in Liptai.”
“Then, sir, we could pack the armor on the mule, for you to do on in dragon country.”
“I like it not,” said Eudoric. “Afoot, weighted down by that lobster’s habit, I could move no more spryly than a tortoise. ’Twere small comfort to know that if the dragon ate me, he’d suffer indigestion afterward.”
Jillo sighed. “Not the knightly attitude, sir, if ye’ll pardon my saying so.”
“Say what you please, but I’ll follow the course of what meseems were common sense. What we need is a brace of those heavy steel crossbows for sieges. At close range, they’ll punch a hole in a breastplate as ’twere a sheet of papyrus.”
“They take too long to crank up,” said Jillo. “By the time ye’ve readied your second shot, the battle’s over.”
“Oh, it would behoove us to shoot straight the first time; but better one shot that pierces the monster’s scales than a score that bounce off. Howsomever, we have these fell little hand catapults not, and they don’t make them in this barbarous land.”
A few days later, while Eudoric still fretted over the lack of means to his goal, he heard a sudden sound like a single thunderclap from close at hand. Hastening out from Kasmar’s Inn, Eudoric and Jillo found a crowd of Pathenians around the border guard’s barracks.
In the drill yard, the guard was drawn up to watch a man demonstrate a weapon. Eudoric, whose few words of Pathenian were not up to conversation, asked among the crowd for somebody who could speak Helladic. When he found one, he learned that the demonstrator was a Pantorozian. The man was a stocky, snub-nosed fellow in a bulbous fur hat, a jacket of coarse undyed wool, and baggy trousers tucked into soft boots.
“He says the device was invented by the Sericans,” said the villager. “They live half a world away, across the Pantorozian deserts. He puts some powder into that thing, touches a flame to it, and boom! it spits a leaden ball through the target as neatly as you please.”
The Pantorozian demonstrated again, pouring black powder from the small end of a horn down his brass barrel. He placed a wad of rag over the mouth of the tube, then a leaden ball, and pushed both ball and wad down the tube with a rod. He poured a pinch of powder into a hole on the upper side of the tube near its rear, closed end.
Then he set a forked rest in the ground before him, rested the barrel in the fork, and took a small torch that a guardsman handed him. He pressed the wooden stock of the device against his shoulder, sighted along the tube, and with his free hand touched the torch to the touch-hole. Ffft, bang! A cloud of smoke, and another hole appeared in the target.
The Pantorozian spoke with the captain of the guard, but they were too far for Eudoric to hear, even if he could have understood their Pathenian. After a while, the Pantorozian picked up his tube and rest, slung his bag of powder over his shoulder, and walked with downcast air to a cart hitched to a shade tree.
Eudoric approached the man, who was climbing into his cart. “God den, fair sir!” began Eudoric, but the Pantorozian spread his hands with a smile of incomprehension.
“Kasmar!” cried Eudoric, sighting the innkeeper in the crowd. “Will you have the goodness to interpret for me and this fellow?”
“He says,” said Kasmar, “that he started out with a wainload of these devices and has sold all but one. He hoped to dispose of his last one in Liptai, but our gallant Captain Boriswaf will have nought to do with it.”
“Why?” asked Eudoric. “Meseems ’twere a fell weapon in practiced hands.”
“That is the trouble, quoth Master Vlek. Boriswaf says that should so fiendish a weapon come into use, ’twill utterly extinguish the noble art of war, for all men will down weapons and refuse to fight rather than face so devilish a device. Then what should he, a lifelong soldier, do for his bread? Beg?”
“Ask Master Vlek where he thinks to pass the night.”
“I have already persuaded him to lodge with us, Master Eudoric.”
“Good, for I would fain have further converse with him.”
Over dinner, Eudoric sounded out the Pantorozian on the price he asked for his device. Acting as translator, Kasmar said, “If ye strike a bargain on this, I should get ten per centum as a broker’s commission, for ye were helpless without me.”
Eudoric got the gun, with thirty pounds of powder and a bag of leaden balls and wadding, for less than half of what Vlek had asked of Captain Boriswaf. As Vlek explained, he had not done badly on this peddling trip and was eager to get home to his wives and children.
“Only remember,” he said through Kasmar, “overcharge it not, lest it blow apart and take your head off. Press the stock firmly against your shoulder, lest it knock you on your arse like a mule’s kick. And keep fire away from the spare powder, lest it explode all at once and blast you to gobbets.”
Later, Eudoric told Jillo, “That deal all but wiped out our funds.”
“After the tradesmanlike way ye chaffered that barbarian down?”
“Aye. The scheme had better work, or we shall find ourselves choosing betwixt starving and seeking employment as collectors of offal or diggers of ditches. Assuming, that is, that in this reeky place they even bother to collect offal.”
“Master Eudoric!” said Jillo. “Ye would not really lower yourself to accept menial wage labor?”
“Sooner than starve, aye. As Helvolius the philosopher said, no rider wears sharper spurs than Necessity.”
“But if ’twere known at home, they’d hack off your gilded spurs, break your sword over your head, and degrade you to base varlet!”
“Well, till now I’ve had no knightly spurs to hack off, but only the plain silvered ones of an esquire. For the rest, I count on you to see that they don’t find out. Now go to sleep and cease your grumbling.”
The next day found Eudoric and Jillo deep into the Motolian Forest. At the noonday halt, Jillo kindled a fire. Eudoric made a small torch of a stick whose end was wound with a rag soaked in bacon fat. Then he loaded the device as he had been shown how to do and fired three balls at a mark on a tree. The third time, he hit the mark squarely, although the noise caused the palfreys frantically to tug and rear.
They remounted and went on to where they had met the dragon. Jillo rekindled the torch, and they cast up and down the beast’s trail. For two hours they saw no wildlife save a fleeing sow with a farrow of piglets and several huge snails with boulder-sized shells.
Then the horses became unruly. “Methinks they scent our quarry,” said Eudoric.
When the riders themselves could detect the odor and the horses became almost unmanageable, Eudoric and Jillo dismounted.
“Tie the nags securely,” said Eudoric. “’Twould never do to slay our beast and then find that our horses had fled, leaving us to drag this land cockadrill home afoot.”
As if in answer, a deep grunt came from ahead. While Jillo secured the horses, Eudoric laid out his new equipment and methodically loaded his piece.
“Here it comes,” said Eudoric. “Stand by with that torch. Apply it not ere I give the word!”
The dragon came in sight, plodding along the trail and swinging its head from side to side. Having just shed its skin, the dragon gleamed in a reticular pattern of green and black, as if it had been freshly painted. Its great, golden, slit-pupiled eyes were now keen.
The horses screamed, causing the dragon to look up and speed its approach.
“Ready?” said Eudoric, setting the device in its rest.
“Aye, sir.
Here goeth!” Without awaiting further command, Jillo applied the torch to the touchhole.
With a great boom and a cloud of smoke, the device discharged, rocking Eudoric back a pace. When the smoke cleared, the dragon was still rushing upon them, unharmed.
“Thou idiot!” screamed Eudoric. “I told thee not to give fire until I commanded! Thou has made me miss it clean!”
“I’m s-sorry, sir. I was palsied with fear. What shall we do now?”
“Run, fool!” Dropping the device, Eudoric turned and fled.
Jillo also ran. Eudoric tripped over a root and fell sprawling. Jillo stopped to guard his fallen master and turned to face the dragon. As Eudoric scrambled up, Jillo hurled the torch at the dragon’s open maw.
The throw fell just short of its target. It happened, however, that the dragon was just passing over the bag of black powder in its charge. The whirling torch, descending in its flight beneath the monster’s head, struck this sack.
BOOM!
When the dragon hunters returned, they found the dragon writhing in its death throes. Its whole underside had been blown open, and blood and guts spilled out.
“Well!” said Eudoric, drawing a long breath. “That is enough knightly adventure to last me for many a year. Fall to; we must flay the creature. Belike we can sell that part of the hide that we take not home ourselves.”
“How do ye propose to get it back to Liptai? Its hide alone must weigh in the hundreds.”
“We shall hitch the dragon’s tail to our two nags and lead them, dragging it behind. ’Twill be a weary swink, but we must needs recover as much as we can to recoup our losses.”
An hour later, blood-splattered from head to foot, they were still struggling with the vast hide. Then, a man in forester’s garb, with a large gilt medallion on his breast, rode up and dismounted. He was a big, rugged-looking man with a rattrap mouth.
A Dragon-Lover's Treasury of the Fantastic Page 18
