The Dragon At War

by Gordon R. Dickson

  With him out of the way, they made their way invisibly past the guards at the outer door, safely into the streets of Brest.

  "It'll take us too long to get down to the harbor on foot," said Jim. "I'll transport us there by magic."

  "Our horses!" Brian cried, before he could form the incantation. "I'll not leave Blanchard behind!"

  "Very well," said Jim, "our horses can meet us down there, transported from their stables by the same magic."

  He wrote the incantations and all of a sudden they were there; with the rough timbers of a wharf sounding hollowly under the hooves of the horses as they stamped their feet uncertainly, finding themselves suddenly shifted from the semidarkness of the stable to the still bright, but rapidly declining, day. A pile of baggage, made up of possessions they had left behind in the inn room, was also beside them.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jim glanced at the sun. In the two years he had been on this world, he had picked up the medieval habit of estimating time from the position of the sun, almost as if he had been born here.

  "Counting twilight," he said, "it looks like we've got about two hours to find our ship and get away. I'm not used to bargaining, and I imagine Brian may have more experience than I do."

  He glanced at Brian, who looked uncomfortable at being reminded of his poverty and his straits in keeping his Castle Smythe going, with only his tourney winnings and what little the estate provided in the way of self support; but, Brian nodded.

  "And Dafydd. Dafydd," said Jim, "you're probably the best of us at driving a bargain. I'll hope it's you that comes up with the ship. But Brian and I'll do what we can, working as a team. Secoh, you stay here and guard the horses and the goods."

  He glanced at the mere-dragon in his human form and noticed that aside from the eating knife at his belt, which the inn servant had bought him as part of his clothes, and which everybody carried, he was unarmed.

  "Here," he said to Secoh, "you can take my sword and poignard; that will keep them from thinking you're an easy mark to rob."

  He began to unbuckle the heavy belt around his waist that carried both weapons. Brian and Giles exclaimed immediately in protest.

  "What are you thinking of, James!" said Brian. "A commoner to wear a knight's belt? Someone who is not a gentleman masquerading as one?"

  He dived at their possessions.

  "Here!" he said, pulling out a spare sword and dagger. "We have extra arms. Here, Secoh, you can have these. But a knight's belt—never!"

  "Indeed, Sir," stammered Secoh, "I had no thought to—perhaps even these—"

  "Go on, take what Brian's handing you, Secoh," said Jim. "He and Giles are quite right. I wasn't thinking."

  "Yes, m'Lord," said Secoh, accepting the sword and dagger from Brian. Jim watched him with commiseration. He had forgotten one of the cardinal points of conduct in this medieval era. In fact, Secoh, with his own intense dragon-pride, had probably understood the reaction of Giles and Brian better than Jim himself had.

  "Sorry, gentlemen," said Jim to Brian and Giles.

  "It is no light matter, James," said Giles, who evidently had also been shocked to the core by what Jim had proposed. "If common men started to wear the marks of gentlemen, let alone a knight's belt, which is not earned lightly or easily, where would we be? An ordinary man could just as well be taken for one of coat armor!"

  "Yes, I know," said Jim, with absolute sincerity. He had been playing the part of a knight now, long enough to begin to understand how much had to be learned to become one. He glanced again at Secoh, who, in his human body, and holding the two weapons, still did not look very dangerous. He thought for a moment and wrote a quick incantation on his forehead, then beckoned Secoh aside and spoke to him in a low voice.

  "Secoh," he said, "just to play safe, in case sword and dagger won't do the job for you, drop them, and clap your hands together."

  He demonstrated, meanwhile writing the necessary spell in his head.

  "If you do that, I guarantee you'll be back in your dragon body. Then fight like a dragon will!"

  Secoh's eyes lit up.

  "I'll tear them to flinders!" he muttered between his teeth.

  "But remember," murmured Jim, "only if you have to!"

  He went back to rejoin Dafydd, Brian and Giles; who, with good medieval manners, had not taken it amiss that he had gone off to speak with Secoh privately. They had it firmly in mind that the rank of Baron, which Jim had thoughtlessly claimed when he had first landed in this world, entitled him to be their superior and therefore have the right to do what he wished without offense to them, his inferiors.

  "Now, Dafydd," said Jim, "why don't you go down the wharves along the left line of ships; and Brian and I'll go to the right."

  He hesitated, still looking at Secoh. It would not be good to have him turn back into a dragon if it could possibly be avoided.

  "Giles, could I ask you to stay with Secoh?" Jim asked. "He may well be able to defend our horses and gear by himself. But the trick is really going to be to keep people from attacking in the first place. The sight of the two of you, and you obviously a knight, should be enough to deter even a gang of would-be thieves."

  "If you wish it, James," said Giles. He gave the right-hand tip of his mustache a twirl. "They will be deterred if they are wise. Ruffians of that sort I should be glad to take care of by myself, without help."

  "Thank you, Giles," said Jim. He turned to the others. "Now, as I said, Dafydd, you go left and Brian and I had better stay together and go to the right. We two can act as a team. These people will try to drive a hard bargain, undoubtedly, with the invasion this close. Even if they don't know the date, they know it's close. But I've got no worries about you; and Brian and I will do the best we can. Now, for your information I have—"

  He fished under his shirt and pulled out the purse that was fastened to his belt—actually, a leather bag with a stout drawstring that circled the belt itself, and allowed the bag to be tucked inside the shirt out of sight. He opened it, reached inside, and came out with a handful of coins.

  "I'd estimate," he said, "that I've got perhaps forty to fifty silver shillings' worth of coin. We must try to cross the Channel for no more than half of that, because we'll have expenses on the other side."

  He knew only too well that the others had no money to speak of and they knew it too; but as long as nobody mentioned the matter none of them had his feelings hurt.

  They went off, accordingly, leaving Giles and Secoh behind; Dafydd along the wharves down to their left and Jim and Brian along those to their right.

  But as they investigated, they found to their surprise, that though it was still nearly two hours to darkness all the boats they investigated seemed empty. Tentatively, Jim and Brian stepped off the wharf onto a number of the craft—they were really not much bigger than the good-sized, offshore, sport-fisher boats of Jim's twentieth-century world, the kind that would go out to sea ten or fifteen miles to fish for tarpon and sailfish. But in every case, the boats they tried had no one aboard. The sail on each single mast was furled; and matters about the deck as well as in the one smelly cabin up forward were relatively in order; although, by and large, the boats were both dirty and disorderly in the extreme, viewed with the twentieth-century eye.

  They were heavy, round-bodied—almost tub-shaped—craft. Jim knew from his previous voyage to Brest and home again, however, that they were remarkably able to face the chop and cross currents of the Channel waters, although they sailed slowly and required at least two men—usually three—to sail them.

  In fact, on both Jim's earlier trips, there had been six to eight sailors aboard each craft; one being the master, who mainly gave orders, but a fair share of the time also lent a hand doing whatever required extra muscle.

  They had investigated their twelfth empty boat before they were aware of a small crowd of what looked remarkably like sailors headed down toward them from what seemed to be a line of inns or drinking places set back a little
distance from the shore. The members of the crowd did not appear too happy.

  Jim had been wondering slightly at the trusting nature of French mariners, that caused them to leave their ships so unguarded and unobserved. Apparently he had been wrong about the unobserved part.

  He and Brian, of course, stood and waited for them, their hands on their belts, not far from their swords. It would have been unthinkable for two knights to do otherwise, regardless of the number of people descending on them.

  "Well, sir knights!" said the short, broad man in the lead as the crowd halted before them. He had a dark, pockmarked face, very tanned from the sun and weather; also something of a paunch on what was evidently otherwise a fairly heavily muscled body. He had his hand on the long knife in his own belt. "And what do you want aboard our ships without our leaves, sir knights?"

  He had stopped about five feet away, with the rest behind him. Those farther back were openly scowling and looking fierce.

  "And what is that to you, sirrah?" snapped Brian.

  He did not move his hand to the hilt of his sword; but this was plainly a gesture of contempt, rather than one of fear that a hostile move would provoke a reaction from the crowd. Brian had taken fire immediately in his usual fashion; and was not, as Jim knew, pretending in the least. He was quite ready to take on the lot of them, single-handed if necessary, unless they were respectful and agreeable.

  Jim had a sudden inspiration.

  "Yes, indeed!" he said, pitching his voice to Brian's tone as best he could. "We are on secret service to the King. If we choose to burn your boats where they stand, that is no business of yours, if it is by Royal Order!"

  The crowd did not exactly fall back before this speech; but Brian's words and Jim's alike clearly gave them pause. There was a moment's silence among them. Then the man who had spoken first and was in the forefront opened his mouth again. But this time his tone had become conciliatory.

  "Those boats are our lives, sir knights," he said. "If you speak of burning them, you might as well speak of burning us as well. For then, we shall starve, together with our wives and children."

  "Then keep a civil tongue in your head, fellow!" snapped Brian, still not mollified and obviously itching for a fight.

  "It's not that we don't understand," said Jim, picking this opportunity to pour oil on the troubled waters of the present conversation, "but we must think of France first!"

  A muttering broke out among the crowd behind the foremost man. Jim thought he heard some comments on the order of: "Huh! France! What did France ever do for us?"

  The pockmarked man squared his shoulders; but took his hand from his belt and its close proximity to his knife.

  "Were you searching for someone?" he asked.

  "Certainly," said Brian, before Jim could speak. "An honest English master and ship to take us to England."

  "English!" Now it was an angry response from most of those in the crowd.

  "There is no English mariner to be found!" said their leader stiffly. "We are all Frenchmen here, sir knights!"

  Then he abruptly looked at them almost slyly.

  "Or is it that you are really English yourselves?"

  "Scottish and English!" said Jim before Brian could speak again. "We are gentlemen who honor King Jean, and have just finished speaking with him. Now, we must follow our honor and duty to him back to England—such is our intent. But it is private matters that move us, not to be discussed with you."

  The pockmarked mariner was not offended by Jim's words, as Jim had known he would not be. It was simply commonplace for a knight to stick his nose in the air and tell a common man that he didn't understand, or wouldn't be given an explanation because he had no right to one. It seemed to satisfy the mariner completely.

  "Nonetheless, sirs," said the pockmarked man in what was now quite a polite tone of voice, "as I said, there are no English among us. And you will not find a Frenchman to carry you across the Channel this day—or tomorrow for that matter. The word is that the King plans to invade any day now. I know not how you will get there, consequently, but you had best get there in a hurry. We will go back to our drinking."

  "I wondered," said Jim, "why you French shipmasters were so willing to let your ships stand open and unprotected. What if someone should steal one of them?"

  The pockmarked man stared for a second. This was a most unlikely question for a knight to ask. In fact, the idea of a knight, or most commoners saying they had "wondered" about anything was all but unthinkable. Then the man laughed.

  "This is Brest, sir knight. And to reach the open waters you must pass through the Rade of Brest. No one not knowing the Rade is likely to be able to take a ship out there, without either going aground, or getting caught on a rock. As for those who do know how to get out safely, French and the occasional English, they are all well known to us. Not only would whoever tried it be caught on his ship in mid-water, and unable to flee; but we would know who he was the minute the ship was gone.

  "We give you good eve, sir knights," he added, and turning on his heels followed the rest of his companions, who had already started back up the slope toward the inns, and the wine or whatever else they had left behind them.

  "Hmm," said Jim to Brian. "Brian, you know that's something I forgot. Remember how we got hung up on the rock coming into Brest on our last trip—even with a shipmaster who knew his way, or was supposed to?"

  "I well remember," said Brian. "Nonetheless, Giles is still with us, and still capable of turning himself into a selkie if we ran into trouble; could he not get us from it again?"

  "You forget," said Jim, "we were just very lightly caught on that rock. If we had been run firmly upon it, it would have taken another ship to tow us off, if we could be towed off at all; and our ship would have sunk under us, the minute it was off the rock and the hole in its side let water in to pull it down under the sea."

  "Hah!" replied Brian. "I understand."

  "Well," said Jim, "in spite of what that man just said, it wouldn't do us any harm to look at the rest of the ships here and make sure that there isn't an English mariner on one of them. If not, we'd best get back to Secoh and Giles as quickly as we can and make other plans."

  "James," said Brian, as they began to move down the line of boats again, "forgive me if I venture into areas where you should not be questioned; but could you not move us all by magic back to England?"

  "Possibly," answered Jim, "but there's two things. I don't know if I could transport us all that far. Secondly, I don't know how much magical ability I have left."

  "Now, I don't understand, James," Brian frowned. "I have been transported by Carolinus—"

  "Carolinus could do it," interrupted Jim, "but you and the rest have to understand how much greater his magic is than mine. That's a long way."

  "I don't understand," said Brian. "Magic is magic, is it not?"

  "Then let it go at this," said Jim. "I've been allowed to use more of it than I had a right to. I'm afraid I may already have reached my limit, if not gone beyond it, just getting us down to these docks in a hurry. In fact, I was planning to avoid using any more until we're back in our own castles. Then I'll ask Carolinus how much I have."

  Brian nodded. Spending more than one could afford was something he well understood.

  They completed their search but found no boat with a fellow Englishman. There were other boats moored to buoys farther out. But Jim saw no way of getting to them, or any signs of life on them. They turned back to join Giles and Secoh.

  "Any trouble?" asked Jim, as they got back within speaking distance of these two.

  "None!" said Giles. "And damned boring it's been, too! Furthermore, James, did you know that this man-dragon here doesn't know the first thing about holding a sword or dagger, let alone using one? Not that I expected him to be of any value if we had marauders."

  Secoh did not look other than normally ashamed at this statement.

  "You can't blame him, Giles," said Jim. "After all, he's never h
eld weapons in his hands before."

  "And a good thing too!" grunted Giles. "Did you find a ship?"

  "None for us," Brian answered before Jim could speak. "Dafydd is still not back?"

  "No," said Giles. "And the sun is close to the horizon."

  "Yes," said Jim, "he'll need to come soon. And if he doesn't—"

  "There he is now!" cried Secoh, interrupting. "And somebody with him. We couldn't see them before because they were behind those big square things that are piled up down there."

  "Bales of goods, probably," said Jim, squinting at them with the late sun in his eyes. "At any rate, he'll be here in a minute. Meanwhile, Giles, you must understand about Secoh. Suppose, for example, you were turned into a dragon suddenly—"

  "James!" cried Giles, stricken.

  "Oh, I wouldn't do it," said Jim. "I'd never turn any of my friends into anything they weren't, except to save their lives or something like that. That was the reason I turned Secoh; and I'm going to turn him back as soon as it's safe to do so. He doesn't like being a human any more than you'd like being a dragon. But stop and think. If you were turned into a dragon, wouldn't you be at something of a loss as to how to use your claws and teeth? Now think about that."

  "Don't see why I should," muttered Giles, "but in any case, I don't want to be a dragon—even to save my life."

  By this time Dafydd and the man with him, who was a head shorter, though also slim and wiry-looking, had reached them. However, Dafydd's new acquaintance had the weathered face and hands, and the slightly rolling seaman's gait; and was already close enough so that Jim could politely ignore Giles.

  "Dafydd!" he called, while the other was still a dozen feet distant. "So you found us an Englishman!"

  "He did not, sir knight!" snapped the man with Dafydd, in a loud voice. "There are no English here! I am a man of France!"