Elven Star – The Death Gate Cycle 2. Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman

To master courtly graces and to learn of lordly might.

I took the good king’s offer, but emptied out his coffer,

And with loaded bags a’weigh with gold I disappeared from sight.

In time I met a lady in a spot all dark and shady, with words I was quite handy and we talked long into night. That eve she let me bed her, her fam’ly said to wed her, so with a price put on my head I left with morning’s light.

I’ve been roamin’ five and twenty, seen war and king and shanty. I’ve known handsome men aplenty who’ve yet to kiss a girl. Yes, I’ve roamed the whole world over, seen men both drunk and sober but I’ve never seen a man can drink as much as Bonnie Earl.

“Blessed Orn!” breathed Lord Durndrun. “It’s working!”

Paithan lifted his head, looked up in astonishment. The dragon’s snout had begun to bob up and down in time to the music.

The old man continued singing, taking Bonnie Earl through innumerable verses. The elves remained frozen, afraid to move, afraid to break the spell. Aleatha and Lord Durndrun held each other a little closer. The dragon’s eyelids drooped, the old man’s voice softened. The creature seemed almost asleep when suddenly its eyes flew open, its head reared up.

The elves grabbed their weapons. Lord Durndrun pushed Aleatha behind him. Paithan lifted a tree branch.

“My god, sir!” cried the dragon, staring at the old man. “You’re soaked through! What have you been doing?”

The old man looked sheepish. “Well, I-”

“You must change those wet clothes, sir, or you’ll catch your death. A warm fire and a hot bath are requisite.”

“I’ve had enough water-”

“If you please, sir. I know what’s best.” The dragon glanced about. “Who is the master of this fine house?”

Lord Durndrun shot a swift, questioning look at Paithan.

“Go along with it!” the young elf hissed.

“That-that would be me.” The lord seemed considerably at a loss, wondering vaguely if etiquette dictated the proper way to introduce oneself to a large and slavering reptile. He decided to keep it short and to the point. “I-I’m Durndrun. L-lord Durndrun.”

The red eyes fixed on the stammering knight. “I beg your pardon. My Lord. I apologize for interrupting your jollifications, but I know my duty and it is imperative that my wizard receive immediate attention. He’s a frail old man-”

“Who’re you calling frail, you fungus-ridden-”

“I trust my wizard is to be a guest in your house. My Lord?”

“Guest?” Lord Durndrun blinked, dazed. “Guest? Why, uh-”

“Of course, he’s a guest!” snapped Paithan in a furious undertone.

“Oh, yes. I see your point,” murmured the lord. He bowed. “I will be most honored to entertain-uh- What’s his name?” he muttered aside.

“Blessed if I know!”

“Find out!”

Paithan sidled over to the old man. “Thank you for rescuing us-”

“Did you hear what he called me?” demanded the old man. ‘Frail! I’ll frail him! I’ll-”

“Sir! Please listen. Lord Durndrun, the gentleman standing over there, would like to invite you to stay with him at his house. If we knew your name-”

“Can’t possibly.”

Paithan was confused. “Can’t possibly what?”

“Can’t possibly stay with that fellow. I’ve made prior commitments.”

“What is the delay?” demanded the dragon.

“I beg your pardon, sir?” Paithan cast an uneasy glance back at the beast. “I’m afraid I don’t understand and, you see, we don’t want to upset the-”

“Expected,” stated the old man. “I’m expected somewhere else. Chap’s house. I promised. And a wizard never breaks his word. Does terrible things to your nose.”

“Perhaps you could tell me where. It’s your dragon, you see. He seems-”

“Overprotective? A butler in a grade-B movie? Someone’s Jewish mother? You got it,” said the old man in gloomy tones. “Always happens when he’s spellbound. Drives me crazy. I like him better the other way, but he has an irritating habit of eating people if I don’t keep a leash on him.”

“Sir!” cried Paithan desperately, seeing the dragon’s eyes begin to glow red. “Where are you staying?”

“There, there, Sonny. Don’t work yourself into a lather. You young people, always in a rush. Why didn’t you just ask? Quindiniar. Some fellow calls himself Lenthan Quindiniar. He sent for me,” added the old man with a lofty air. “Wanted-a human priest. Actually I’m not a priest. I’m a wizard. Priests were all out fund-raising when the message came through-“

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