The Dragon on The Border

by Gordon R. Dickson

  However, Brian had a pleasant baritone, and his good spirits were—as always—infectious. Jim felt his own early morning gloominess beginning to evaporate under the double attack of Brian's cheerfulness and the morning sun that was now warming them.

  But Brian suddenly broke off in mid-verse. He looked across at Dafydd, who was riding on the other side of Jim. For here, away from the castle, they rode three abreast like ordinary equals.

  "Dafydd—your Highness, I mean—" Brian fumbled a little with the words.

  " 'Dafydd,' Sir Brian," interrupted the bowman. "Dafydd ap Hywel, with whom you're well acquainted."

  "Yes." Brian still seemed to have trouble finding his words. "But—what I mean to say is—this title of Prince of Merlon that the Little Men seemed to believe you own by right. Is it true? Is it an actual title, I mean? Are you really a Prince? I mean to say, I would not wish to fail of proper courtesy in addressing you—"

  Dafydd interrupted him with a laugh.

  "Oh, it is real enough, Brian," he said. "But what is it to be Prince of some hundreds of miles of ocean waves; over which you have no control, and on which you never venture? Prince I am, if titles are to be counted, look you. But it is a title that long since lost any meaning; and I am much more content to be Dafydd ap Hywel, Master of all Master bowmen, than Prince of anything. In short, my being a Prince vanishes, once we leave Castle de Mer behind us."

  "Well, if you say so—" said Brian, frowning. "But it seems damned unfair, somehow. Men all over the world scrambling to be named Baron, Duke, let alone Prince—and here you are, one already; but you want us to take you as we thought you were, for a common bowman…"

  "A most un-common bowman," corrected Jim gently.

  "Oh, as un-common as you like!" said Brian. "Nonetheless, it feels not right to me. It is courtesy and manners that make us more than brute beasts. That, and our souls, within, of course—" He crossed himself.

  "But in the ordinary way of things, knowing a man's rank and behaving to him accordingly makes for a decent society," went on Brian. "Now it seems to me, Dafydd—your Highness—if you're really a Prince, you should admit to being a Prince; so that all could treat you with the proper respect."

  "Nay, let it rest," said Dafydd. "It has no more real meaning than to call someone Prince of the Air. It has no real place amongst we men of the present day. Here and now, I am a bowman, and not ashamed of it. What more would I have? You will do me the most courtesy, Brian, by thinking of me as you have always known me; and, after we leave here letting me ride behind you as usual when others are about; and so in all other things where my rank is taken to be lesser than yours."

  "You really want this, Dafydd?" demanded Brian, staring at him keenly with his bright blue eyes.

  "I do," said Dafydd.

  "Well, there's an end on it, then!" said Brian. "The wish of a friend should be respected. You have my word on it, Dafydd. After we leave Castle de Mer—but only after then, look you, or whenever we are amongst those who have not heard of you as Prince—I will speak you and think of you only as the bowman I have known these past two years. God knows, it is a fair enough calling. I am as inept with a bow myself as Jame—" He was interrupted by an embarrassed fit of coughing. "—as many who have never picked up a weapon before."

  Jim diplomatically ignored the slip of the tongue.

  "I will not say it is not so," said Dafydd, smiling, "but I will wager that if you were left with nothing but a bow to defend yourself with for a year or so, you would turn out a bowman well worthy of the name."

  "Think you so?" said Brian. "That is interesting. However, I have no year to spend in such an experiment."

  They rode on for a moment in silence.

  "Now," put in Jim, "if the matter of Dafydd's title is settled, suppose I bring up another subject? All of us want to show up at the meeting of the leaders where the Borderers are to gather, with the Little Men no doubt nearby. But after that, I think we should make a wide swing, so as to come down on the actual place where the Hollow Men will be gathered from the north, or Scottish side, so that they do not suspect anything."

  He looked meaningfully at his two Companions in turn.

  "In that respect, I've been worried by one thing. Without clothing they can move invisibly through the woods, and even ride invisibly upon their horses—though that would not be the most comfortable thing to do—and I'm concerned about their catching us or overhearing us under some conditions where they'll suspect what's going to happen."

  "No fear!" said a harsh voice beside them and they looked to see Snorrl trotting along with them. The wolf grinned up at them.

  "I have been with you almost since you left the castle," Snorrl said. "I will be with you, whether you see me or not, until we go in among the Hollow Men together. I guarantee that no Hollow Man will come anywhere close enough to see or hear you without my warning you. Now, go where and as you will. You will not see me but I will be there."

  With that, Snorrl disappeared again, although Jim could have sworn, from the lack of underbrush around, that there was nothing for him to dodge behind.

  "Well, that settles that," said Jim, "and also relieves my mind. Now, if we keep on as we are, we'll get to the gathering place of the Borderers early."

  He paused; thinking about it for a minute.

  "Probably, though, that's not going to do any harm. Our being available early can mean that the meeting of leaders can take place early; which will be all to the good for the three of us. Particularly, if we're going to circle around behind the Hollow Men before coming up on them. Don't the two of you think so?"

  Brian and Dafydd both nodded.

  "A wise thing to be early, and a wise move to go around behind," said Brian. "In anything involving a battle, or indeed in anything involving the lives of men, the unexpected will always happen. Best to make sure of what it is possible to make sure of."

  "That is so," murmured Dafydd.

  So it was that they reached the gathering spot for the Borderers before more than a third of them had shown up. The area picked contained a small clearing. But it was one not large enough for all the contingents together; particularly as the contingents tended to stay aloof from one another. As a result, most of them were out of view, among the trees surrounding the clearing.

  Jim, Brian and Dafydd rode up to Herrac. The Lord of the Castle de Mer, with his sons and his hundred and twenty-three men, had taken the central spot in the clearing, as if by right.

  "Hah!" said Herrac. "It is good to have you here, your Highness, m'Lord and Sir Brian," he said. "We've been waiting for you."

  "But surely," said Jim, as he halted his horse before the towering commander of the Borderers, "not all of the leaders—in fact many of them—are here yet?"

  "No, many are not," said Herrac. "However, I did not specify who would meet with the Little Men. I meant only that certain of the leaders, certain important ones, would meet with Ardac, son of Lutel, and his schiltron-leaders."

  He frowned for a moment.

  "I'm willing to wager that he himself brings only half a dozen or so of his own leaders. For our side, Sir John the Graeme, Sir William Berwick, Sir Peter Lindsay and the others who will be important in carrying the fight forward, are already with us. Moreover, there's a limit to how long we can wait, since some may not show up at all; and it were foolish to wait and wait until the noon hour had past, for someone who has no intention of coming."

  "You're going to hold the meeting right away, then?" asked Jim. As far as he could read the sun, it was barely terce yet—that church hour of prayer which Jim privately translated in his head into ten o'clock in the morning.

  "As soon as I can gather them together," answered Herrac. "Wait you here."

  He turned to his sons and sent them off in different directions to gather some eight men whom he evidently wanted to join with him in the meeting. Jim reflected that that would make only eleven who were not Little Men, at the meeting. All to the good, he thought, with the Lit
tle Men in mind; just as long as the other Borderer leaders did not later object to being left out. He was a little relieved of this anxiety by Brian leaning toward him and speaking in a low voice into his ear.

  "Things are often done this way, James," Brian said. "Do not concern yourself about it. Usually, the only reason a council is delayed is because some are not present, or an important share of those promised really do not want to go forward at all. After all, it is the one who commands who decides, when and what things are to be done; from attending councils to attacking the enemy."

  Jim nodded.

  "I see," he muttered.

  Some twenty or thirty minutes later, the eleven full-size men were together with eight of the Little Men, Lachlan among them, looking as happy as Brian. They were situated at a distance far enough from the rest of the waiting Borderers, so that there would be no danger of anyone but those at the council overhearing what was said there.

  "It only remains, I think," said Herrac, after greetings had been exchanged between him and Ardac, "to make certain that our plans of last night have not changed and all go as we planned. At what time, or at what signal, should the Borderers begin to move in?"

  "I will blow my horn," said Ardac, lifting the cow horn that depended from his shoulder and putting the small end to his lips. "Listen now, for you will hear no other horn like it."

  He blew; and his words proved to be perfectly true. Jim had been expecting to hear the kind of raucous blast that he had heard before from other such cattle horns converted into hunter's signaling devices. But this one sounded a high sweet note that seemed to carry away and away amongst the trees until it was lost in the distance.

  Ardac lowered the horn and smiled his bushy lips.

  "There are some of your men back there who will wonder about that horn-call," he said. "But they will have no notion of where to look, for the sound is one that does not give away where it comes from, as do the horns that you larger men use. At the same time, having heard it once, they will recognize it when the time comes. Finally, you may take my word for it that it is a sound that will carry over any noise of battle. That is why the horn is made as it is."

  "In truth," said Herrac, "it is a fair-sounding and memorable horn. Very well, we will listen for it. At what point do you think your schiltrons will be in their attack on the Hollow Men when you blow that horn?"

  "It is in my mind that our first charge, even with schiltrons at half depth, should enclose the Hollow Men there and push them inwards the distance of perhaps one quarter or more of the space of the clearing."

  "By the arm of St. Christopher!" burst out William of Berwick. "But you must think well of yourselves to do that to Hollow Men; who may well be in a number of a thousand and a half men."

  "Two thousand and more," said Ardac. "We know them a little bit better than you and your people, Sir William. You think what I promise is not possible? What would you do if taken by surprise by three ranks of spears, as far as you could see to your right and left, coming at you at a run? It is instinctive in a man under those conditions to back off; to run away, even. But I will say this—we can push them back perhaps a third the width of the open space. But holding them will be something else again, once they get over their first alarm and turn to fight in earnest. So that when I blow my horn, I pray that all of your people will come as quickly as possible. Because the need of you will be great. If you delay, we will be overrun; and the advantage of having hit them unawares will be lost."

  "I am commander," said Herrac grimly. "I promise you. When your horn blows, all men under my command that hope to face me again will come to your aid as quickly as we can get there, whether on horse or on foot."

  He did not even pause to give anyone else a chance to speak but went on.

  "I think," he said, "that should conclude this meeting. Ardac, son of Lutel, you and your leaders will want to move up into position. His Highness, here, with Sir James and Sir Brian, must needs be on their way, since they must be among the Hollow Men first before all of us. I declare this meeting closed."

  He turned and began to stride away. The Borderers went with him; almost automatically, Jim thought. Ardac looked after them for a moment and then looked at Dafydd.

  "We had hoped to have you among us, to give us heart," he said. "I am sorry you will not be there."

  "I am sorry myself," answered Dafydd. "But I have no choice. My greater duty is with these two good knights and on that ledge keeping the attention of the Hollow Men fixed on us so that the rest of you can move in behind them and take them by surprise, as you said. How would you do without me there?"

  "Sir James could not do it alone—or Sir James and Sir Brian could not do it alone?" asked Ardac.

  "No."

  As usual, the word was gently said in Dafydd's soft voice, but there was a finality about it that even Jim and Brian felt. Certainly Ardac and those with him felt it. For their spears went up in the salute Jim and Brian had seen them give Dafydd, on the occasion when they had all been together in the earlier brush with the Hollow Men. Then Ardac turned and led the way off into the woods. He and his schiltron-leaders disappeared among the tree trunks almost as quickly and quietly as Snorrl was able to do.

  Jim turned to the other two beside him. For once they were together on his right and he could face them both at once.

  "Do you want to appear to be leading the three of us, Dafydd?" he asked.

  "No, James," said Dafydd. "I leave that to you."

  "Brian?" Jim fastened his gaze on Brian alone. "How about you? You've had far more experience than I with battle."

  "With battle, yes," said Brian, "but this other matter of going to the Hollow Men under the pretense of being someone else and handing out gold to them in such manner as they do not suspect us—this I think is something you will do best of the three of us, James. If you need me at any time, call upon me. But with Dafydd, I say—you lead."

  "Then it's settled," said Jim.

  He swung up on his horse, which he had led to the place where they had met with the Little Men; and the other two also mounted, with Dafydd automatically leading the pack horse carrying the chests of gold. They headed north and west of the point where the Hollow Men were to be met.

  When they had gone far enough, they did a ninety-degree turn and now headed east. Shortly they cut the trail—or road—where they had ambushed and kidnapped Ewen MacDougall, though they were a good four or five miles down from where that particular kidnapping had taken place. They followed the trail back to a spot just a little north of the place where the Hollow Men would be gathered.

  Here they turned off the trail once more, going east again and partly south, so that they would be generally heading for their enemies. They were not far into the woods when Snorrl's familiar voice spoke beside Jim.

  "You'll be seen by one of their sentinels in just a little ways now," said the wolf. "Don't you think it's time for you and I to make the magical changes you talked about?"

  "You're right," said Jim. He did not mention that he had merely been waiting for Snorrl to appear beside them again, feeling that the wolf would not take kindly to Jim calling him.

  He reined up his horse, as did Brian and Dafydd, to wait for him, and got off the animal. He had been faced with a problem right from the start. Ewen MacDougall was a smaller man than he was. If he changed himself completely into Ewen MacDougall as he had the time before, he would have to wear MacDougall's armor.

  But if his magic wore off on him while he was at the ledge and he had to fight his way off the ledge and through the Hollow Men, past the Little Men and Borderers to safety, he would need to be wearing his own armor, because any armor he was wearing would simply burst and fly apart at its joints when he suddenly increased in size.

  He had thought of carrying his own armor along, one way or another, and changing if he had to on the ledge before plunging into the battle before it. But there would hardly be time for that. It was not an easy or a quickly accomplished job, getting a
knight into his armor.

  The solution had been very simple. He would change his face only; and wear his own armor with the surcoat over it. It was unlikely that Eshan would have paid enough attention to him to notice that Ewen MacDougall was now several inches taller, wider in the shoulders and longer of limb, as long as the surcoat was the same.

  Furthermore, Jim would have his visor up and the face he would be showing would be the face of Ewen. This tidy answer had the great advantage also of conserving what small amount of magic Jim had left—stretching it as far as possible, in fact.

  Consequently, he had ridden out that morning in his own armor. Now, as he stood beside his horse he wrote an equation on the inside of his forehead:

  MYFACE→FACE OF EWEN MACDOUGALL

  As, usual, he felt nothing after writing this spell. But the reaction of Snorrl was startling. At a leap, the wolf was eight to ten feet away, crouched facing him and jaws open in a snarl.

  "Stop it, Snorrl!" said Jim irritably. "It's only me, magicked to look like Ewen MacDougall. Are you ready to be changed yourself?"

  The tension gradually went out of Snorrl and he rose up to his normal height.

  "Will this harm me in any way?" he demanded.

  "No," said Jim. "Not only that, you won't even feel a thing. You're going to have to find something like a pool of water to look at yourself in to see the difference—oh, you may notice that you're a little higher off the ground than you used to be."

  "Then go ahead," said Snorrl.

  Jim wrote the second equation:

  SNORRL→DOUBLE HEIGHT, DOUBLE SIZE

  It was not possible to see the change happen. Just one moment Snorrl was there as he normally was, then suddenly he was the size of a small pony or baggage horse. The real horses reared, and tried to bolt. Jim found himself digging his heels into the ground and being dragged along by Gorp for a moment before Brian, who had gotten his well-trained war horse under command first, came up alongside and also took hold of the reins of Gorp.

  "By St. Peter!" said Brian, laughing. "If your wolf has half as much that effect on the Hollow Men, we should be able to slice our way through them like a knife through soft cheese."