Meghan's Dragon (21 page)

Chapter 63

There were six separate flues in the chimney that could have been mistaken for a buttress, except for the fact that it rose over the crenellated battlements by the height of two old-fashioned jousting lances. Meghan looked around nervously for guards, but the only people visible on the wall-walk after lunch were a few stray tourists and some carpenters installing a new pulley system in one of the corner towers.

“They aren’t exactly on war footing around here,” Bryan commented, looking out over the neighborhood surrounding the castle. It was heavily built up with wooden houses, though some multi-story brick buildings were rising along the main streets. “There must be twenty times as many people living outside the walls as in the castle grounds.”

“Stand between me and the men working on the pulley,” Meghan instructed Bryan, intent on the coming task. “We’ll be in trouble if somebody figures out what we’re doing.”

“Don’t worry so much. If anybody asks why you’re moving your hands around like that, I’ll just tell them you have a nervous condition.” Despite his words, he moved to shield her from the work crew, and with a last look around, she began the intricate motions needed to untie the magical knot.

“Done,” she said, just as Bryan finished counting the ropes to figure out that the pulley’s mechanical advantage was ten-to-one. He was surprised it didn’t fall apart at that level of complexity, but then it occurred to him that may have been why they were replacing it.

“What’d we get?” he asked out of the side of his mouth, playing up the part of burglar.

“Lucky,” Meghan replied. “It’s a scroll canister, and I’ve already slipped it inside my jacket and resealed the flue. This could be our easiest task yet.”

“Let’s get going then. If I don’t miss my workout with Rowan, our friends probably won’t ask any questions.”

The two took the nearest stairs down the inside of the wall and headed for the main gate, which was divided by a railing to separate the incoming traffic from the outgoing.

“They should do this at all the castles,” Meghan said as they entered the outgoing stream of people and carts. “I can’t tell you how many times I saw the gate jam up back home when a couple of carters going opposite directions wouldn’t give way.”

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea after all,” Bryan muttered, his eyes on a tall man wearing a green hood. The man stood in the gateway and seemed to be paying close attention to the people leaving the castle. “What’s a green hood mean?”

“Mage,” the girl replied, her voice going cold. Meghan had seen mages, of course—every baron had at least one in service, and a duke was bound to have several. But she’d been careful never to draw attention to herself before Bryan’s arrival, so there had never been occasion for a mage to scrutinize her up close. She had practiced clearing her mind and pushing her magical energy into a small spot, an evasion method described in the scrolls, but it was different with an inquisitive mage just a few paces away.

“A private word,” the mage said, stepping into the flow of foot traffic and blocking the way. “I am Sawith, the duke’s war mage. Please come with me.”

“Don’t,” Meghan mouthed at Bryan, adding such a pleading look that the young man managed to stop his initial urge to react violently. They followed the mage into the empty gatehouse guardroom, and at a small finger motion from Sawith, the door swung shut after them. The three stood in silence for a moment, then a yellow aura crackled into existence around the mage, and the smell of ozone filled the small room.

“A girl disguised as a boy whose presence in front of me I can barely detect, and a young man, if that’s what you are, who practically oozes raw magical potential. No, don’t try it,” he added, raising a hand as Bryan began to summon up a fireball. “It’s clear that neither of you are war mages, so be warned that the shield I have erected will return any magical attack you launch with twice the potency you give it.”

“What do you want from us?” Meghan asked, putting a restraining arm across Bryan’s chest.

“Isn’t that obvious? I’ll start with the king’s reward for your capture, young lady, as you are obviously the girl described in the circular. Whatever magic you’ve been practicing in secrecy, however many poorly built towers you’ve collapsed, you’re no match for me.”

“I never collapsed a tower, I just caught my boyfriend when he fell off,” Meghan rebutted the mage. “It’s all I can do, catch things that fall. Whatever potential you sense in him, he couldn’t even save himself.”

“Is that so?” Sawith said, raising an eyebrow. “That won’t diminish the king’s bounty by one gold piece. Now, there are some questions you need to answer for me before I put you to sleep for transport. I know you are traveling with one of the player troupes and have visited the castles of the Red Duke and the Green Duke, and now I’ll have the reason why.”

As he spoke these words, the war mage’s voice rose in a commanding tone, and Meghan felt his magical force and intense gaze compelling her to answer. At that moment, Bryan’s left fist caught the tall mage in the pit of the stomach, doubling the man over. Bryan followed the punch with a right uppercut to the jaw, which was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of bone breaking. Sawith collapsed in a heap.

“You punched out a war mage?” Meghan half-screamed. “You can’t do that.”

“I just did,” Bryan replied, rubbing his hand. “Hard jaw, I think I might have broken a knuckle. Should I finish him?”

“Finish him? As in kill him? Are you crazy?”

“I’m not kill-crazy if that’s what you mean, but we can’t have him coming after us,” he replied, looking around the empty guardroom. “I’ll just grab one of those axes and take off his head. The guys say it’s the surest way to kill a war mage.”

“No, wait,” Meghan said, interposing her body between Bryan and the weapons rack. “He’s completely out and his jaw is broken. Let me just spell him to sleep for a few days and we’ll be long gone.”

“You don’t think somebody will come along and wake him up?” Bryan shook his head impatiently and reached around her for the axe.

“It doesn’t work that way,” she pleaded, trying to hold the axe in place in the weapons rack. “Listen, if you were a war mage, would you admit that somebody broke your jaw with a punch?”

Bryan paused. “That would be kind of embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”

“He’d lose his job for sure, and nobody would ever hire him as a war mage again,” Meghan said in relief. “I’m just money to him. When he realizes that we’re gone, he won’t tell anybody. I’ll untie his bootlace and we’ll close it in the door when we leave. It will look like he tripped and slammed his chin on the table. It can happen to anybody.”

Bryan looked skeptical, but he wasn’t really that enthusiastic about the idea of chopping the head off an unconscious man, so he helped Meghan move the body and undo one of the mage’s long leather bootlaces. In a burst of inspiration, he tied a knot in the end of the lace and wedged it into a crack in the flagstones, just inside the door.

Meghan worked over the downed mage for a minute, her hands on his face, whispering to herself. Then they opened the door just wide enough to slip out into the stream of people leaving the busy castle.

Chapter 64

Rowan parried Bryan’s attack casually with the sword in his right hand, while simultaneously throwing some sand in the young man’s face with his left. Bryan’s blink reflex almost saved him, but the smaller particles that traveled a little slower than the larger grains of sand got into his eyes when the lids popped back open. He stumbled backwards with his sword held above his head like a shield, waiting for the inevitable follow-up blow, but none came. Bryan blinked several times as tears worked to clean his eyes, and looked up to see big man standing at ease.

“What did I do wrong?” Rowan asked.

“You? You threw sand in my eyes.”

“What did I do wrong?”

Bryan realized the repeated inquiry was a test rather than an ethical question, and thought for a moment. “You didn’t take advantage of the opportunity you created,” he admitted. “You should have pressed the attack.”

“And you should have killed the war mage when you had the chance,” Rowan said matter-of-factly.

Bryan let his sword fall as he tried to come up with a plausible evasion, but in the end he just asked, “How did you know?”

“Storm Bringer sent his hawk to keep an eye on the two of you this morning. You’ve been taking some serious risks.”

“But we all went inside the gatehouse,” Bryan protested. “I could have killed him in there and the bird wouldn’t have seen it.”

“I’ve been around enough fighting and death to be able to see if a young man has killed for the first time just by looking at him,” Rowan replied. “But I can also tell you have the soul of a warrior, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me your wife talked you out of it.”

“She did!” Bryan seized on the excuse. “Meghan said that the war mage would be too embarrassed to admit that somebody punched him in the stomach and broke his jaw. She’s always stopping me from killing guys.”

“And she’s probably right about the mage staying quiet this time. But the Blue Duke is a puppet of the false king, and when the time comes to fight, that mage will be lined up on the other side of the battlefield.”

It took Bryan a while to digest what Rowan was telling him, but the big man waited patiently. “So the whole acting troupe, our festival tour, it’s all a cover for planning a revolt?”

“No, it’s how we all make our living, but we do seem to be performing more tragedies than comedies this year.”

“And the natives who are always coming out of the woods and talking with Storm Bringer? The farmers who bring a little produce from their fields and walk along for a while with your group leaders? The local men who gather around for beer after every show?”

“You could say they’re sympathetic to the cause.”

“I don’t know anything about war, but it’s hard to believe that the veterans in the troupe and some local militia will be a match for an army, no matter how good you are,” Bryan objected. “There just aren’t enough of us, even if you add a few hundred sympathizers.”

“We aren’t the only troupe of strolling players, and the soldiers serving the barons and dukes aren’t doing it out of loyalty. It’s just a job, a bloody job at that, and men have been known to quit or change sides.”

“Why now? Why didn’t you tell us when we joined you?”

“Old friends vouched for Meghan, but you and your mythical Castle Trollsdatter were complete unknowns. I wanted time to see if your heart was in the same place as your words.”

“I should have punched out a war mage earlier.”

Rowan laughed. “With your swordplay, it’s the only way you’re ever going to beat one, but it was a smart move in any case. Mages are accustomed to instilling fear into everybody around them, and their hoods are a warning to beware. If you’d tried to launch a magical attack or draw a weapon it would have ended very differently, but he wasn’t on guard against a street brawl.”

“Have you ever fought against a mage?”

“I’ve fought against just about everything that walks and holds a weapon at one point or another,” Rowan answered quietly. “I suppose you could say I have a gift for fighting and leading men in battle. Between you and me, I’d rather have Chester’s talent for acting, but we don’t always get what we ask for.”

Chapter 65

The first words out of Bryan’s mouth when he met Meghan back at their tent after his training session were, “Rowan knows.”

Meghan set aside the scroll she’d been trying to decipher and asked, “About you being a dragon?”

Bryan grimaced and shook his head. “About our outing to the Blue Duke’s castle and the war mage. The shaman’s stupid bird was watching us.”

“I’d say that makes it a smart bird. What did Rowan say?”

“He said you shouldn’t have stopped me from chopping Sawith’s head off, but I already knew that.”

“He was lying on the floor unconscious, and I still believe he’ll keep it to himself.”

“That wasn’t Rowan’s point. He finally let me in on what’s going on around here, and it turns out that the players are part of some sort of rebellion. That war mage is loyal to the king, so we could end up fighting him again someday.”

“I’ve been hearing rebellion talk ever since I can remember, but nothing ever comes of it,” Meghan said, picking up the scroll again. “The baron would even make jokes about leading a revolution on his Naming Day feast. Nobody likes the king, but he keeps the best soldiers around him, including mercenaries from overseas. And in the end, who the king is just doesn’t make a big difference in the everyday lives of most people. Somebody will always collect the mill and barrel taxes, and most of that money goes to pay soldiers and bribe dragons in any case.”

“Of all the people, you, who needed to summon a dragon for protection against your own baron and king, think it doesn’t matter who’s in charge?” Bryan had to fight back the urge to shake her by the shoulders. “Life isn’t all about magic and dragons. Even if the only choice between leaders is bad and worse, only an idiot would say it makes no difference.”

Meghan looked up from the scroll in surprise. He was showing her a thoughtful side she hadn’t suspected he possessed, even if she didn’t agree. The women in the castle had always dismissed royal politics as something men talked about over their beer, and it hadn’t ever occurred to her that things could substantially change in the kingdom. Her only goal had been to find a way to insulate herself from it.

“So you’ve chosen sides?” she asked.

“I think we both did that already when we fled your baron and started breaking into castles to steal stuff.”

“It’s not stealing. The items were left there for me, they belong to us. I just wish this scroll was written in my language for a change. All the gifts seem to be for you!”

“Let me see it,” Bryan requested in a resigned voice. He cleared his throat and read, “Instructions for reverting to human form.”

“I got that far,” Meghan said in irritation. “What’s the next letter sound like?”

“
J
, as in, I don’t know,
J
,” he said unhelpfully. “Join minds with one who wants you back. Seek your core and concentrate on its essential humanity and solidity while—it’s just a bunch of New Age crap,” he concluded, discarding the scroll. “This business about a revolt is serious.”

“Do you want to get stuck being a dragon forever when you finally change?” Meghan demanded. She picked up the scroll and began studying it again. “It’s funny, though. I did make out most of it with the letters you already taught me, and there weren’t any instructions for becoming a dragon in the first place. It’s all about returning to human form. I wonder if you’ll be willing to give up being a dragon.”

“Are you serious? Dragons eat raw meat, bones and all, and they probably don’t have any beer,” Bryan pointed out. “I get that they live a long time, but what’s the point if you have to spend it all hanging around a cave to keep watch on your treasure? I have my own solution to that, by the way.”

“What are you talking about now?”

“You know all the coppers and small silvers we’ve been saving up from tips? I traded them in for this.” He pulled a cord out from around his neck and proudly displayed the small gold ring suspended there. “It’s gold,” he added unnecessarily.

“I can see that it’s gold, but how are we going to buy anything on the road or at the next fair if you’ve turned all of our earnings into one little ring?”

“I figure you must have some savings left.”

Meghan buried her head in her hands and moaned theatrically.