He explained the terms. As he finished, Gannie bowed low and said, “And anyone else can bet, too!”
They looked around at each other. Bet a stranger that they wouldn’t be scared of a story? It seemed like sure money.
Kory went from table to table, checking with interested parties, then returned to Gannie. “I hope we have enough if we lose,” he warned.
Gannie rolled his eyes at him. “Have we ever lost?” Quickly putting a hand over Kory’s mouth, he bowed to the company again. “And now, our story.”
“I want one about owlbears,” the little girl insisted.
Her mother said quietly, “Hush, Elinor,” and looked apologetically at the two young men. “She loves stories.”
“A wonderful girl.” Kory dropped to one knee. “Sorry, our best story isn’t about owlbears. ” He glanced at the surrounding company, and said with surprising force, “Can we tell one about dragons?”
The company sat up, startled. Darien and Peilanne leaned forward, concerned.
“Excellent.” Gannie put one foot on one end of the bench and leaned over his audience. “Once, not long enough ago, there were two young men, vagabond wanderers. Tale-tellers and inn-hoppers, spenders of money and chasers of dreams. We’ll call them”-he pretended to hesitate-“Koryon and Elgan….”
The similarity of names was lost on no one. Brann the shepherd smiled condescendingly, settling back to enjoy a story within a story. Even Elinor looked with sudden interest on the two storytellers, looking from one to the other as if waiting for their real names to shine on their foreheads.
“On this particular morning, Elgan woke …”
* * * * *
Elgan woke in the summer sunlight, brushing at his nose. A grass stem was tickling him.
Koryon was holding the stem. “Welcome to morning. Are you all right?”
Elgan wiggled his toes, counted his fingers and finally, with some trepidation, pinched his nostrils and blew his nose. Nothing fell off. “Fine.” He disentangled himself from his cloak, crawled to the stream and ducked his face in, drinking deeply.
Koryon said, “Fun night, wasn’t it? What nice people.”
Elgan glanced down the valley, where smoke from the chimneys came from the cottages and still more smoke floated upward from the hearth of the Inn of Road’s Ease. He turned to Koryon. “You really ought to watch yourself more,” he said disapprovingly.
“It was just normal entertainment.”
“Normal? That trick with the knives? That was reckless.”
Elgan grinned. He had palmed a dozen dining knives, one at a time, and made them appear in his hand as he threw them to outline Koryon against the wall.
“And did I hit you with even one knife?”
Koryon, scratching his head, stopped and felt the outline of his left ear. He stared at Elgan accusingly.
“All right, did I hit you with more than one?”
Koryon said morosely, “I ought to be dead.”
“Watch what you wish for,” Elgan said absently.
“I’m not wishing, simply stating a fact.” He quit feeling his ear, but still frowned. “And all those stories about dragon battles-that was simply showing off. I’ve known you since you were a child-”
“You were a pessimist even then-”
“-and I know for a fact you’ve never been in a dragon battle.” He paused. “I don’t think you’ve even seen a dragon battle.”
“Not true,” Elgan said firmly. “You may remember, on the occasion of my older brother’s birthday, we both saw a pitched battle involving three armed men and three dragons-”
“Gods, Elgan, that was a puppet show!” After a moment’s silence in the sun, Koryon said, “You haven’t said anything about Beldieze.”
“Beldieze.” Elgan stretched, eyes shut and dreaming. She had walked up to him after the knife throwing, and had stared straight into his eyes. Hers were blue-silver, and caught the candlelight amazingly; that wasn’t all they had caught. Her dark hair, long and nearly straight, framed her face until he looked into it and felt he would never break free and get out. And her voice, like bells when she began asking questions….
He started. “She asked me about dragon fights.”
Koryon snorted. “And you told stories all night.”
By evening’s end, the tables had been pulled together in the middle of the hall, Elgan was standing on the center table, waving a flagon of ale and explaining battles. He had hopped on the back of the strong, good-natured innkeeper, commandeered a broom, and charged about the inn to demonstrate the finer points of lance aiming. At one point, Elgan remembered, he had speared a curtain-ring held by Beldieze.