Here Be Dragons

by Bill Fawcett

  Barahael nodded reluctantly. Beth could tell that he was trying hard to be convinced. And that he wasn’t any more anxious to meet the elf girl than she was him. Hmmm ... well, if they didn’t want each other, she’d work out something else for each of them. There just better not be the peace of a couple of worlds at stake, because she would be the only one happy when the Elves of Silver and Gold received the bill.

  “I will await her coming—for now,” Barahael said. “Send word that I offer her my protection among all these strangers.”

  “I’Il do that. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your gallantry. I’ll let you know as soon as she arrives. Why don’t you enjoy the con while you wait?” She looked at her watch. “Look at the time! I’m meeting a troll at the Marriott in five minutes. I’ll check in with both of you in a bit,” she told her supernatural clients. She took Sara aside before leaving. “Here’s your laptop. You know your schedule for this afternoon?”

  “Thanks. Yes.” She gave Barahael a dubious look.

  “Don’t worry, there’s no one else like him on your schedule.”

  “I don’t think there is anyone else like him,” Sara answered. She sounded relieved, but Beth made a note of the hormonally stunned look in her assistant’s eyes.

  “Keep an eye on Barahael if you get the chance. Make sure he’s doing all right. I think he could use some looking after.”

  She didn’t wait for Sara’s response before rushing off to her next appointment.

  * * *

  That man doesn’t need looking after, Sara thought as Barahael went by with the mostly female posse he’d gathered over the last couple of days. What that man needs is a security force to keep the straight women and gay guys off him.

  Then she noticed the trio bringing up the rear of Team Barahael. They were wearing Air Force uniforms sporting Stargate sleeve patches. She wasn’t sure if it was legal for the costumers to appear so legitimately military, but they certainly looked like an armed honor guard. Those rifles weren’t real, were they?

  Keeping an eye on Barahael hadn’t been difficult while she went about her duties, since he seemed to be everywhere. His startling good looks and amazing costumes certainly drew the eye, and attention, and lots of friends. The Cosplay kids had taken him as their hero. He was the hit of the convention, which certainly said a lot, considering the thousands of people who were here, including famous actors and authors.

  Let him party, she thought grudgingly as she returned her attention to her client across the table.

  “Did you see that elf?” the client asked. “Can you get me an introduction to him?”

  Sara forced a smile. “I can certainly try. Now, Ms. Fuller—”

  “Sara, fair maiden, you work too hard. Come, have a respite.” Barahael was at her side, his hand lightly on her shoulder.

  Sara looked up, and spoke over the sound of her client’s loud sigh. “I—” Those eyes! “—I’ll be with you in a moment.” She wrote a name and room number down on a slip of paper. “Here,” she said to Ms. Fuller. “Give him a call.” She closed her laptop and got to her feet.

  “What novelty would please your heart?” Barahael asked. “I am at your service to provide it.”

  His smile dazzled. His expression was utterly sincere. The man absolutely never broke character, but since his elf lord character was such a nice person, the chivalrous persona was utterly endearing.

  “I know what I’d like to do,” she answered. She glanced toward the crowds waiting in the elevator alcove. “But the timing is impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible,” he answered.

  “You obviously aren’t staying at the Hyatt.” Not enough elevators for too many people. “My favorite writer’s doing a book signing, but I left the book I want autographed in my room. There’s no way I can get to my room and to the signing before she’s finished.”

  Barahael solemnly contemplated her problem before he nodded. “I see. Come with me.” He led her toward the elevators and the crowd parted like the sea before Moses. Not only that, the doors of an empty elevator opened just as they reached it. They stepped inside, and no one pushed in after them.

  Sara stared at Barahael in gape-mouthed wonder. “You really are a magical being!”

  His silver-aquamarine eyes twinkled. “It would appear so.”

  Sara put her keycard into the reader and rode beside Barahael in stunned silence up to the Concierge level. Once in her room she decided to get more into the spirit of the con and changed into the “Have fun storming the castle” tee-shirt she’d bought as a present for her sister.

  Barahael waited patiently while she tucked her laptop in a drawer and grabbed the fantasy novel, but he stepped in front of the door when she turned to leave. He held up a hand. “One moment, please.”

  She thought I’m alone in a bedroom with the most gorgeous man in the universe. Maybe ...

  “Has Lady Beth had any word of the Golden Princess?”

  Right. He was a client waiting for a potential hook-up. How had she forgotten that? “I don’t believe so,” she answered.

  He nodded gravely. “I fear that trouble may be brewing.”

  She didn’t know what he meant, but she immediately took out her phone and called Beth. “Boss, do you have any—?”

  “Do you know where Barahael is?” Beth cut her off.

  “With me. In my room.”

  “Lucky girl. Get him down here.”

  “And down here is?”

  “The dealer’s area in the basement of the Hilton. I think all hell is about to break loose, and I do not mean that metaphorically.” Beth hung up.

  Sara looked at Barahael.

  “I heard,” he said. “For safety’s sake perhaps you should—”

  “When my boss tells me to get someone somewhere, I do as I’m told.” Sara wasn’t afraid of hell, but she was afraid of Beth Thorson’s temper. “Let’s go.”

  He took a moment to kiss her hand. “Your bravery warms my heart.”

  She tingled all over and wore a dazed smile all the way to the dealers’ room.

  Along the way people kept joining them, starting with Asli—who seemed to have acquired a bow and quiver of arrows without anyone working security noticing. Barahael didn’t say or overtly do anything, but it was like he was selecting certain people out of the crowds to join his warband.

  Warband? Sara shook her head, annoyed at letting her imagination get out of hand from hanging out with Cosplayers and costumers. She vowed to give up World of Warcraft for a while after she got home. Still, she couldn’t help feeling a martial glow of comradeship as she marched forward at the elf lord’s side.

  Reality set back in when she saw Beth standing at the bottom of the escalator outside the shopping area. She’d never seen her volatile boss so steamed before.

  “She’s not happy,” Sara murmured, wondering if she should hide behind Barahael’s broad back, or make a break for it. But Barahael strode up to Beth with Sara’s hand clasped in his and there was nothing she could do but accompany her digits.

  “What news?” Barahael asked Beth.

  “There are some Golden Elves here, but your princess isn’t one of them.” Beth pointed a finger at Barahael. “They’re here to start trouble.”

  “I feared a trap.”

  “It’s a trap all right, but for me, not for you. They intend to shut down the annual meeting of worlds.”

  “How?” Sara asked. Then realized she was going along with a lot of nonsense because of her faith in Beth’s opinions. “I mean—”

  “They’re here to start a fight with you,” Beth said to Barahael.

  “Any disruption in neutral territory will get them banned from ever returning,” he answered.

  “I don’t think they care. I think their point is to close off the meeting point altogether. Do you know how much business I�
�ll lose if that happens?”

  Beth’s shrill anger grated on Sara’s ears, and Barahael actually flinched. “Mortals could be harmed if it comes to a fight,” he said. He glanced Sara’s way. “Innocents must be protected.”

  “I’d relish a fight,” Asli said.

  “Didn’t you tell me you wanted to settle down and have a few foals?” Beth asked her. “You’re never going to get the chance to meet your match if arrows start flying.”

  “That is so,” Barahael said. “We need a way to make the Golden Elves withdraw without any violence. I think I know a way.” He turned to Sara. “Say nothing. And remember that your honor is dear to me.” He put his arm through hers. “Come, fair maiden. There is something I wish to show you.”

  Sara was completely clueless, but she went along with Barahael. She had to admit that no matter what this game was or who he really was she still enjoyed being with the elf lord. Chivalry was sexy.

  Asli and other members of his posse fanned out around them, inconspicuous among all the other shoppers. It didn’t take Sara long to realize that there were other elves in the room.

  Where Barahael was a vision in shades of silver, this new group was costumed in gold. Instead of platinum, their hair was blond, their skins creamy instead of pale. The gold elves converged around Barahael’s group in a slow, subtle maneuver. Sara knew that Barahael was pretending not to notice and tried to look as unaware. But the newcomers creeped her out. She felt like some innocent herbivore being surrounded by a hungry wolf pack.

  Finally, when her nerves were very close to breaking, and the game didn’t feel like fun, but some dangerous adventure, Barahael brought her to a stop in front of one of the dealer booths.

  “I will make you a gift, my love,” he said, rather louder than necessary.

  What does he mean by that? She wondered before she looked up and saw a wall of brocade and steel. “This is a corset shop.”

  “Indeed,” Barahael said. He leered at her. The expression did not belong on his ethereal face. “I found out about these garments when I was drafted onto a costuming panel. I am told they make women look and feel sexy. Try one on.”

  Sara wondered if she should protest that she wasn’t that sort of girl, but the corsets were gorgeous. She noticed several customers laced into the garments looking at themselves with cinched waist and swelling bosoms in the shop’s mirrors. Not only did they look sexy in this S&M gear, but they looked like they felt sexy. Besides, Barahael had asked her to go along with him.

  “Okay,” she said as the dealer came up, holding up a red and gold dragon patterned corset. Recalling her first client, Sara said, “I’m not sure I should do dragons.”

  “Let me pick one for you, my love,” Barahael said.

  But one of the Golden Elves blocked his way before he could approach corset racks. “Love?” He sneered, and the unpleasant expression worked surprisingly well on his features. “How is it you call this mortal love? Are you not the Lord of the Silver kind?”

  Barahael’s arm came around her shoulders. He pulled her possessively closer. She discovered he was wearing real chain mail beneath his lavishly embroidered tunic.

  “I am Barahael,” he told the other elf. “Should I know you?”

  His tone implied indulgence at rudeness on the other elf’s part. The other elf conveyed outrage with the lift of a single gold brow. “Do you not recognize the captain of the Golden Lady’s bodyguard?”

  Barahael looked the bodyguard up and down. “Hmmm ... perhaps if you were to show me your back you might seem more familiar.”

  Most of the nearby shoppers were watching this exchange. Laughter and applause sounded all around the elves. The elves had eyes only for each other.

  “Is not the Golden Lady your love?” the bodyguard asked after a significant pause.

  “Should she be?”

  The gold elf gave a dangerous smile. His amber eyes gleamed. Boy, was this guy spoiling for a fight!

  “Are you forsworn, then, Silver Lord?”

  “Never!” Barahael answered.

  “Then why do you call a mortal love when you are betrothed to—” he gestured at the other elves gathered around them, “—our lady?”

  There was a general murmuring—of loyalty from the elves, interest from the audience and annoyance from the abandoned vendors.

  A brilliant smile lit Barahael’s features “Has the lady arrived at last? When may we meet?”

  His blatant eagerness annoyed Sara. It disconcerted the hell out the gold elf.

  “Uh—no. The lady is not—”

  “Is not what?”

  “Here.”

  Barahael turned back to Sara. “Where were we, my love?”

  “I was about to make an exhibition of myself,” Sara said.

  “Ah, yes.”

  They turned back toward the racks of stiffened brocade but the gold elf once more interrupted their shopping. “You are forsworn!”

  “If I prove to you that I am not will you quit this world? Will you leave this festival in peace?”

  “You are forsworn and I will you here and now for my lady’s honor!”

  The gold elf’s hand was on the pommel of a sheathed dagger. Sara gasped, knowing at last that no role playing was going on between these two.

  “He wants to kill you!” she blurted at Barahael.

  Barahael touched her cheek. “But my death would make you grieve, and bringing you sadness would be unkind of me.”

  Sara was not the only woman within hearing who sighed, but she was certain hers was more romantic than the others.

  Barahael gestured at the spectators. “Lady Thorson, will you attend me?”

  Sara hadn’t noticed that her boss had joined Barahael’s entourage, but there she stood between Asli and the lady who didn’t do dragons. Beth’s glare at Golden Boy was as dangerous as his dagger as she moved to stand beside Barahael.

  “What has she to do with our quarrel?” Golden Boy demanded. “Will you use a mortal as a shield?”

  “I would never use this lady as a shield,” Barahael said. “Not when she makes a far better weapon.”

  Beth snorted. There was more applause from the audience. The gold elf came a menacing step closer. Sara wondered when Con security was going to show up.

  “You have not yet agreed to my proposal,” Barahael said.

  “I agree to your rules of engagement,” the other elf snarled.

  “And all your men?”

  “I command their agreement.”

  The Gold Elves shouted, “Aye, aye, aye!” It sounded very martial.

  “We ought to get these guys together with the Spartans,” somebody in the crowd said.

  “You came here to deliberately provoke a quarrel that would deny all of us the use of this place. You came to rekindle our ancient war. You would have every right to exploit this incident your own lady has provoked if she and I were truly betrothed.” Barahael turned to Beth. “Are the Golden Lady and I truly betrothed, Facilitator Between the Worlds?”

  “You most certainly are not,” Beth answered. She pulled a tiny laptop out of her huge purse and brought up a file. Sara got a look at the small screen, but she didn’t recognize the language. Beth handed the computer to the gold elf. “Read this. It’s the standard contract for my services at DragonCon. There is nothing in there that promises marriage. I put people together; chemistry and free will take over from there. Prince Barahael signed the contract. So did your lady. If anybody is in breach of the contract, she is. Barahael showed up, she didn’t. If I can’t introduce them, my job is to introduce Barahael to another suitable candidate.” She glanced at Sara. “The contract is fulfilled, and your princess is out her fee and meeting a really nice guy.

  “Thank you, Lady Thorson,” Barahael said.

  The gold elf handed back the computer. “This is an o
utrage!”

  “And your loss, sucker,” Asli said.

  “The Golden Lady told us Barahael would forswear the betrothal!” one of the other gold elves said. “We came to defend her honor.”

  “But if there is no betrothal, we have no cause to fight,” another said. He sounded incredibly disappointed.

  “We must withdraw,” a third elf spoke up.

  Golden Boy did not look at all happy with his squad. He stood as stiff as a statue for a few moments, his hand still on his weapon. It was Beth who stared him down.

  “Come back next year and I’ll find you a nice girl,” she told him.

  He glared for form’s sake, but Beth saw the hopeful gleam in his eye. She loved her job.

  “We withdraw,” the elf conceded.

  Asli and her crew followed the Gold Elves to make sure they were really leaving. Beth turned back to her client, and smiled knowingly. Barahael and Sara had gone back to corset shopping. He said something in her ear, they both laughed. Maybe her speech to the gold elf had some truth in it.

  “Chemistry and free will,” she said. “Works every time.”

  I HAD HIM in my crosshairs. This guy had eluded me for an hour to no avail, but now he was mine. If I made a mistake, the one-man fighter would return to the planet below, and I would miss my chance. There would be other ships. There were always others. Privateers were constantly on the lookout for new cargo. If I screwed this up, I could always take on another one. I just needed enough kills to—no, I wouldn’t think of that. I worked hard to put this guy on the defensive, and now it was personal. I steadied my hand on the throttle. The sweat from my palms made it difficult to maneuver. A white glare beamed from the fighter as it grew larger in my scope. The ship was mostly triangular-shaped, with wings that swooped upward. I was so close, I could see into the exhaust. The right wing suddenly dropped. He rotated.

  Oh, no, you don’t.

  That was exactly what he did last time. First the rotation to the right to throw me off guard, and then he would pull a hard left. I wasn’t going to fall for that again. I moved the site off him, shifted it to the left and waited. Another second and I would blow him out of the sky. His left wing started to move into the site. Almost there ... The ship was nearly on target. I began to count down in my head. Three ... two ...