Meghan's Dragon (9 page)

Chapter 22

“We should make the castle by suppertime,” Laitz observed, squinting into the distance. “Considering that it rained every night, I think we’ve made excellent time over the last few days. Your progress with illusions has been nothing short of astounding, both of you. If Rowan is still there, I’m sure he’ll take us all on.”

Meghan grimaced at the compliment because she knew that Bryan had surpassed her in the informal training, even though he had been practicing magic for less than two weeks. She was fully convinced that he was her intended dragon and his rapid progress with magic just proved the point. On the other hand, his quick temper coupled with his refusal to let a single copper out of his purse was getting to be a bit depressing.

“Then we should hurry up so we can catch him before dinner and let him foot the bill.” Bryan assumed that the others would find this logic unassailable, and lengthened his stride accordingly.

“Don’t get too far ahead,” Meghan called after him, maintaining her usual pace. Laitz hung back with the girl as Bryan opened the gap in what was rapidly becoming a battle of wills.

“I prefer walking when the road runs through the forest,” Laitz said, making idle conversation to cover his discomfort over the young people’s latest spat. He couldn’t make heads or tails of their relationship. They claimed to be married and wore wedding bands, but they slept in their own bedrolls and showed no signs of intimacy that the harlequin could detect. When it rained at night, and they rigged tents from the waterproof sheets that normally lined their packs and served as back-padding, Meghan insisted that Laitz share with her husband and took the smaller tent herself.

“You don’t like the fields?” Meghan asked. “I’d never spent a night in the woods before we set out on this journey and I have to admit that it’s a bit spooky.”

“Your husband seems quite capable of taking care of you both. Something tells me that those bandits who cleaned me out wouldn’t have been so lucky with the two of you.”

“He’s pretty scary at times,” Meghan admitted. “I’ve never seen anybody learn so fast, and he’s not afraid of anything, other than going hungry. I didn’t really know him that well before we got married,” she added hastily.

“There’s no shame in arranged marriages. In Old Land practically all of the matches are made by parents and guardians. It’s only here in New Land that young people believe in seeking their own mates, and that’s probably in imitation of the natives.”

“I thought the tribe’s shaman made all the matches.”

“The shaman performs the rites, but the participants choose each other. I spent a whole year with the natives when I was younger, a journey from summer camp to winter camp and back again. It’s where my love of the woods comes from. The natives cultivate some crops, of course, but they don’t build permanent houses and live next to their fields year-round. But listen to me telling you something you must already know.”

“No, I didn’t, actually. The natives who visited our castle were usually men, so I didn’t have any contact with them. I do have a pair of moccasins in my pack that still fit even though I bought them from a native woman four years ago. She told me that the deerskin would stretch as my feet grew with just a little encouragement, but I didn’t really believe her at first. Their magic is too different from ours to understand.”

“I don’t think that’s true at all,” Laitz said. “Their approach to magic is different, but their skills are very similar. I learned my illusions from a shaman who thought it was astounding I could make fire. They consider it women’s work, and to see a bunch of grown men rubbing sticks together to start a fire when they’re away from the camp on a raid is wonderfully amusing. On the other hand, I’ve seen a brave shoot down a goose with an arrow that should have fallen back to the ground at a tenth of the range. Our people and their people have very different gifts for war, and that’s why we mainly leave each other alone.”

“He’s stopped,” Meghan said. “I guess he finally figured out that keeping his wife in view is more important than saving the cost of a meal.”

“If you say so,” Laitz replied agreeably. “He has something of the look of the natives about him, mainly around the eyes and the nose. They have excellent vision, you know. Does he talk about his family background?”

“He lost all of his family at once and he prefers not to speak about it,” the girl replied, realizing that this was an opportunity to save Bryan from embarrassing questions. “If you could say something to the others when we arrive, it would make life easier.”

“I’m happy to be of service, especially as you’ve been keeping me fed the last four days.”

“Are you two coming or what?” Bryan yelled irritably. He was holding his pack in one hand, and Meghan realized that the reason he had come to a halt was that he was out of food and knew that she had leftovers. They’d eaten lunch at a farmhouse, but with their destination so near, there didn’t seem to be a point to buying more food for the road.

“There’s no need to hurry, Bryan,” Meghan called back. “If they were leaving today, they’re already gone. Nobody starts a journey after lunch.”

“Yeah, speaking of lunch, that bread must have been full of air because I’m hungry again. Got anything left in your pack you want to get rid of before it spoils?”

“Don’t you believe in holding anything back for emergencies?” Meghan asked.

“If you spend all of your time preparing for the future it won’t ever arrive,” Bryan said.

“Did you just make that up?” Laitz inquired. “It’s rather good, like a line from a play.”

“It just seems to make sense,” the young man replied matter-of-factly. “It seems to me that I spent my whole life waiting for something before I, uh, came here and married Meghan. Now I feel like all the hesitation has been burnt out of me and I just want to get on with the job.”

“And eat,” Meghan added, surveying the diminished contents of her pack. “There’s some dried beef that’s been in here since we left. I don’t know how good it is.”

“It’ll be fine,” her dragon replied.

Chapter 23

“So clowning around for lords and ladies wasn’t everything you imagined, Laitz,” Rowan said to the illusionist.

The troupe’s manager was an enormous man with shoulders as broad as a bull’s. Even while seated, his eyes were almost level with Meghan’s when the trio approached the table. Laitz shuffled his feet and tried to look properly chastised, but knuckling under didn’t come naturally to him.

“I paid my dues, Rowan,” Laitz replied calmly, managing a crooked smile. “I think you’ll find that the three months I spent in a dungeon perfecting my illusions will work to your benefit. If you can talk my young companions into staying and acting as my assistants, you’ll see a show that couldn’t be equaled in Old Land.”

“Is that so?” Rowan said, reaching for a turkey drumstick. “And you’ve toured Old Land recently so you know what you’re talking about?”

“Not recently, but you’ll remember I shipped with a merchant vessel before I started working for you, so I’ve seen more of the world than most.”

“Hey, are you going to invite us to sit down, or what?” Bryan interrupted the awkward reunion. “We’ve been on the road for almost a week trying to catch up with you. My wife’s friend, Phinneas, told us to ask for a man named Simon.”

“I’m Simon,” an older man on the other side of the table announced. He rose from his place and came around to where the newcomers were standing near Rowan’s seat. When he extended his hand to shake with Bryan, the younger man noted that the former soldier was missing the pinkie and ring fingers from his right hand.

“Is this going to be one of those ex-soldier things?” Rowan asked his stage master, after swallowing a mouthful of turkey. He sounded more resigned than annoyed, and Meghan got the impression that the player troupe functioned like a large family.

“I owe Phinneas my life,” Simon replied. “If you don’t want to give these two a trial run, well, they can just stay on as my guests.”

“Now, I never said that, Simon,” Rowan protested mildly, wiping his hands on his pants and rising to his feet. He was a true giant, towering over Bryan by a half a head, and he might have weighed nearly as much as the three travelers put together. “If Laitz is willing to have you as assistants, your magic must be…interesting, and if Simon is willing to work you into the fight scenes, you’ll have no problems earning your keep. Just remember that we don’t tolerate prima donnas in this troupe, as your clown friend can tell you.”

“You won’t regret this, Rowan.” Laitz clasped hands with his new and former boss.

“I’m Meghan,” the girl said. “Thank you for giving us a chance.” Her hand and wrist felt like they’d been wrapped in a warm slab of meat and disappeared entirely in the giant’s gentle handshake.

“I gather from the rings that the two of you are married,” Rowan said to Bryan. His eyes locked with the young man’s as they shook hands, and it quickly became apparent that he was taking the opportunity to test the new troupe member’s strength.

Bryan grunted as the man tightened his grip, but he accepted the challenge and returned the pressure for all he was worth. Four years of rock climbing and holding heavy plates and pans with one hand while scraping with the other had built up his finger strength, and he’d been feeling stronger and stronger every day since Meghan pulled him over from Dark Earth. The veins began to pop out on his forehead as the contest went on, but just when he felt like the bones in his hand were about to crush together, Rowan relaxed his grip.

“I can see you won’t drop your sword when you cross blades on the stage,” the player’s leader said, nodding in approval. “You don’t have the calluses of a swordsman though, or of a farmer, for that matter.”

“I have a sword that Phinneas gave me, but I’ve never trained with one,” Bryan admitted. “Laitz said something about you paying for the meals of all the troupe members?”

“Find some open spaces and eat all you can,” Rowan told them. “You got here just in time. Tomorrow morning we start east after breakfast for the harvest fair circuit, so I hope you like fresh air. We’ll begin in the north and work our way south, keeping ahead of the winter.”

Chapter 24

The troupe owned a dozen draft horses, enormous animals that could have borne Rowan’s weight without complaint if he’d chosen to ride, but they were hitched in pairs to wagons, one of which was dedicated to carrying horse feed to supplement roadside grazing. Including the newcomers, there were thirty players in the troupe, but children and a dozen non-performing spouses more than tripled that number. The men all wore swords on the road, and many of the women displayed belt daggers. Highwaymen gave them a wide berth.

The children were on and off the wagons all day, and it was a wonder to Bryan that they were never crushed under the wheels. Simon gave Bryan sword lessons at every opportunity, starting with teaching the young man the basic forms he could practice alone, and quickly introducing a little sparring with dull practice blades and leather armor for their upper bodies.

“How come you’re not teaching me stage fighting first and real fighting later?” Bryan asked after one of the training sessions. “I want to show Rowan that I’m worth my pay.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Simon replied. “The big bear has taken a liking to you, and feeding a couple of extra mouths doesn’t add much to the overhead, even when one of them eats like you do. I’m teaching you real fighting first because that’s what Phinneas would want, and it’s dangerous to do it the other way around. I can teach any swordsman worth his salt how to stage fight, but teaching an actor to be a swordsman isn’t so easy.”

“I’m worried that I’m going to break your ribs sparring even though you’re just toying with me,” Bryan admitted. “You always wait for the last second to block my thrusts and slashes. Is that a stage thing I’ll need to learn?”

Simon chuckled grimly. “I’m not waiting to the last second, boy. You’re too damn quick. You move faster than I did when I was forty years younger, and if you knew what you were doing you’d be dangerous. Right now, in a fight against decent swordsman, you’d only be dangerous to yourself.”

“How long will it take me to learn?”

“Most boys destined for soldiers start sparring with wooden swords as children and begin serious training when their beards begin to come in. With your speed and enough practice, you might hold your own against an average fighter in a few months, but it takes years to become a real swordsman.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m about to cut you in half every time I attack?”

“I’m old, slow, and missing half a hand. But don’t hold back because you’re worried about getting past my defenses or it will permanently mess up your timing. My wife is a pretty good healer, so as long as you keep that chunk of steel away from my face she’ll be able to fix any damage you do. This leather armor is better than it looks unless you take a thrust from something with a sharp point.”

“So what happened to your fingers?” Bryan asked with the insensitivity of youth.

“Somebody cut them off,” Simon answered bluntly. “I had a special hilt made for my favorite sword with leather straps to help my grip, but Phinneas told me I was just begging for death. After he saved my bacon on the field, I decided he was right and got into show business, which was the smartest move I ever made. Look at me now with a wife and grandchildren.”

“Why didn’t you have the fingers sewn back on?”

“Sewn?” the old soldier asked. “Gods, boy. You really must be from the backwaters of civilization if they sew fingers onto people. Any folk healer like my wife could have handled the job easy and I’d have been holding a sword again in a week. Well, maybe two weeks.”

“So why didn’t you take the fingers to a battlefield healer?”

“Couldn’t find them,” Simon said sourly. “It had been raining for days and the field was all muddy, so one of us must have stepped on my fingers and buried them in the muck. I stopped the bleeding myself, of course. Anybody without enough magic to do that would be insane to take up soldiering, but I’ve hated Fourth Month with all the rain ever since.”