Роберт Асприн - Forever After

“That much I can testify to.” Schmirnov smiled. “As can my scars. But we’ve agreed to leave such memories to the past. Tell me now, what brings you to my lair on a mission of peace? It must be important, as I can’t imagine it was an easy journey for you.”

Stiller snorted.

“Indeed it was not. If you are interested, I could tell you tales of the dangers we braved to stand where we are now.”

“Spare me,” the dragon said.

“First, we were set upon by… Excuse me?”

Stiller paused in his oration as the reptile’s words sank in.

“I said ‘spare me,’” Schmirnov repeated. “Not to be rude, but I’ll wager I’ve heard it all before. I have yet to hear of a quest, campaign, or simple trip undertaken by a warrior that didn’t involve ambushes by bandits, attacks by various ferocious creatures, shortages of food and water, and at last one side trip to deal with a crisis that arose along the way. Did I overlook anything?”

Stiller and Ibble exchanged glances.

“Well… no.”

“Tell me, has it ever occurred to you that peasants, peddlers, and merchants traverse these same lands virtually unarmed without encountering a fraction of the dangers you heroes seem to accept as daily fare?”

Again his visitors looked at each other, each waiting for the other to answer.

“You might discuss it at leisure once this meeting is over,” the dragon said. “When you do, and if you discover I’m right, I suggest you consider two possible explanations. First, that the mere presence of a warrior or armed force will be perceived by whatever armed force or creature is in residence in the land you’re traveling across as an attack, and will therefore provoke a response. That is, they will launch what they feel is a counterattack to your attack, which you in turn perceive as an attack and counter accordingly. What you see as a necessary defense only confirms their fears that you mean them harm, and the fight will continue to the death. A fight, I might add, that was not really necessary in the first place.”

Stiller scowled thoughtfully.

“And the second possible explanation?” Ibble said.

“If your path is constantly barred by fights and challenges, you might consider your choice of routes.” Schmirnov smiled. “If someone gave you a map or suggested such a dangerous path, they might actually be trying to engineer your deaths in the guise of assisting you. If, on the other hand, the route is of your own choosing, then there’s a chance that you’re letting your warrior’s pride outweigh your common sense. That is, you try to bull your way through obstacles and dangers on the strength of your sword arm that others would simply walk around.”

Stiller cleared his throat.

“Again, Lord Dragon, you give us food for thought. Might I point out, however, that it was you who raised the subject of our journey?”

“I did?”

“Yes. You said that you supposed it had not been an easy journey for us, which I took as an invitation to tell you of our travels.”

“Ah! I see the difficulty now. Actually, my reference to your doubtless hard trip was meant to imply that your mission would have to be important, or you wouldn’t have undertaken it.”

“Oh.”

“Which brings us back to our original point. To wit, what mission is it that brings you to my cavern?”

Stiller blinked several times, then shook his head as if to clear it.

“My mission. Quite right,” he said, almost to himself. “Simply put, Lord Dragon, I’ve been sent as a personal emissary from Prince Rango, to request a favor of you.”

“That much your comrade here has explained to me,” the dragon said patiently. “Tell me, just who is this Prince Rango?”

“He is the rightful ruler of these lands, both by bloodline and by right of conquest. He has recently succeeded in overthrowing the evil tyrant Kalaran, and will ascend the throne as King shortly at a combination marriage and coronation.”

“This Kalaran you keep mentioning,” Schmirnov said, “is he dead?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Before I start granting favors to any human or group of humans, it’s nice to know who else might be popping up who might take offense at my taking sides.”

“Kalaran is dead,” Stiller said firmly. “I myself was present at the time of his demise.”

“Why do I get the feeling it was not an easy death?” the dragon said wryly.

“Indeed it was not,” the warrior confirmed. “Though evil, Kalaran was as powerful a foe as any I’ve faced or heard of. He had his followers, of course, and was no stranger to the Dark Arts. Much of our preparation for our assault involved locating and retrieving several powerful relics to assist us in our attack. As a warrior, I generally disdain the use of magick, but I must admit that in that final confrontation I was glad we had taken the time to gather them. No lesser items than the scroll of Gwykander, the amulet called Anachron, and the ring Sombrisio had to be employed before Kalaran was weakened enough to be downed by a sword stroke. Without them, I fear our plans would have fallen to ruin.”

“Impressive,” Schmirnov said. “I’m not sure I understand, however. If this Kalaran has already been disposed of, then of what assistance can I be?”

“Well, it has to do with an artifact,” Stiller said, uncomfortably.

“An artifact?”

Schmirnov’s head soared up as he looked toward the rear of his cavern where his own treasures were stored. Determining at a glance they were undisturbed, he returned his attention to the warrior.

“While I appreciate the originality of asking for one of my treasures rather than trying to either steal it or kill me to gain possession, I’ll admit to being bewildered by your request. Nothing in my trove approaches the power of those items already in your possession. Even if I did have something that might help, I thought you said the battle was already over.”

“You misunderstand, Lord Dragon,” Stiller said hastily. “We’re not seeking any of your treasure. Quite the contrary. What we would ask is to add one of our items to your undoubtedly valuable collection.”

“Now, why would you want to do that?” the dragon said suspiciously.

“Well… so that you could guard it for us.”

“You’re trying to say that you think an artifact would be safer here in my cavern than in the kingdom capital surrounded by legions of royal guards?” Schmirnov’s voice was tinged with incredulity. “Forgive me, but that seems to go against everything I’ve heard or learned of the arrogance of humans… unless there’s something you’re omitting from your tale.”

Stiller heaved a deep sigh.

“The truth is, Lord Dragon,” he said, “we’ve been told that we have to scatter the artifacts again. Because of that, my old comrades and I have been assigned to find new hiding places for each of them. That is what has brought me to you this day.”

“Perhaps the years are dulling my mind after all,” the dragon said, “but I still don’t understand. Could you explain further why it is that you have to scatter these items?”

“Strange things have been happening in these lands since the artifacts of power have been gathered together,” Stiller said darkly. “Fish and other creatures rain from the heavens when there are no clouds. Unearthly sounds… some call it music… issue forth from thin air with no apparent source. Flying machines have appeared and disappeared in the sky over the capital. Most frightening, ungodly creatures unknown to science or legend have begun to appear at various places around the land. Perhaps you have observed some of these phenomena yourself?”

“Not really,” Schmirnov said. “But then again, I haven’t been watching very closely. Usually, when something strange or unexplainable occurs, I attribute it to the latest shenanigans of your kind, and do my best to ignore it.”