“It couldn’t have all been one-sided, though. Otherwise people would never have gotten established in the valley. You had to have ways of fighting back.”
Malkin snorted into her mug. “Buying peace, more like. Used to be the council would make a deal with dragons. So many sheep, or cattle, or maidens a year and the dragons would leave the rest alone-mostly.”
“But that doesn’t work any more?”
“Seems like there’s a different dragon every year.”
Population pressure again, Wiz thought. Somehow Malthusian economics looked different when you were part of the consumable resource instead of the expanding population. Pretty clearly buying off the dragons wasn’t the answer. All that got you was more dragons exploiting the resource.
“You must have had other ways of fighting back.”
Malkin thumped down her now-empty mug and considered. “There’s children’s tales of heroes who could kill dragons. I suppose they’re true because there used to be statues to them in half the squares in town.”
“Used to be?”
“Dragons didn’t like it. They’d swoop down and melt the statues where they stood. Burn down a lot of the town in the process.” Again the shrug. “That was a long time ago, too.”
It didn’t feel like a solution to Wiz, but he persisted. “Still, you could kill dragons.”
“A hero could. Had to be a hero who would face a dragon in single combat. Sometimes the dragon’d win and burn the town. Sometimes the human would win and we’d be free of dragons for a bit. But heroing ain’t what it used to be. Not so many of them any more and there’s more dragons, seems like.”
“I understand why you have more dragons, but why aren’t there more heroes?”
“ ‘Cause win or lose most of them are only good for one fight.” She jerked her head back toward the bar. “Cully here. He’s the only one around now.”
“Cully fought a dragon?”
Malkin nodded. “He’s the one I want you to meet. Hey, Cully,” she called over her shoulder. “The wizard here wants to meet you. And bring us a couple more while you’re at it.”
As the bartender made his way over with a pitcher of beer Wiz looked at him closely. He was a big man, run to fat now in late middle age and his skin blotchy from sampling too much of his wares. He moved with a pronounced limp with his withered left arm pressed close to his side. For all that he must have been formidable in his youth.
“So you’re the wizard, eh?” Cully said as he plopped the pitcher of beer down on the table. Wiz saw he had brought a jack for himself.
“More a consultant just now,” Wiz said. “I’m working with the council on their dragon problem.”
“Scared a dragon right out of the Baggot Place,” Malkin put in.
“Frightened him so bad he flew away without harming anyone.”
Cully looked Wiz up and down. “So I heard,” he said in a tone that wasn’t quite a challenge.
“It’s a skill,” Wiz shrugged. “But you actually fought a dragon and won.”
Cully filled his own jack and passed the pitcher to Malkin. “Aye. It’s a dragon’s treasure that got me this place. And as for winning-“ He shrugged his good arm. “Well, I’m here and the dragon ain’t.”
Wiz leaned forward. “Did you have some kind of special weapon?”
“What’s the matter, Wizard? Your own methods not good enough?”
“Oh, my methodology for dragon abatement is perfectly adequate. But like any practitioner I seek to add to my knowledge base.”
The big man digested that while he drained most of his tankard.
“Oh, aye, there’s all kinds of lore on killing dragons.” Cully grinned. Since half his face was a mass of burn scars the result was not only lopsided, it was something to terrify small children. “Thing is, most of it don’t work.” He twitched his bad arm and Wiz saw the skin was mostly scar tissue. “That’s how I got like this, following some of that advice.”
Wiz wondered if the dragons exchanged tips on fighting humans.
“Still, you beat a dragon in a single combat.”
Cully’s grin grew even more lopsided. “I never said it was a straight-up fight. That’s not in the rules, you see.”