Margaret Weis - Heroes And Fools

Dayn didn’t want to follow that thought, but happily he was interrupted by Kresean.

“It’s finally moving,” the warrior said calmly. Dayn turned around and could hear the scraping sound. Kresean pocketed his stones and moved quietly over to the edge of the cliff.

Dayn flopped on his belly and stared down at the empty cave mouth. At first, he didn’t see anything, but soon he heard a scraping below. It was coming closer.

“What now?” Dayn whispered tensely. “Do we ambush it? Don’t you need to be closer? Are you going to stab it as soon as it comes out?”

“Just wait, lad.”

Clamping down on his excitement, Dayn waited. He envisioned the beast bursting from its lair, unfurling its wings, and leaping for the sky. A reptilian battle cry would wail forth. Excess moisture would spray from its wing tips like deadly diamonds. It would turn its burning eyes upon the pair of heroes on the top of the cliff and-

The dreaded dragon lumbered out of the cave.

Dayn’s excitement melted like a chunk of butter thrown on a fire. He let out his pent-up breath.

“That’s the dragon?” he exclaimed.

Kresean was smiling. “Dragon enough for me, lad.”

Dayn whipped his head about. “What?” He looked back down at the creature. He wasn’t an expert on dragons, to be sure. He would be the first to admit it. However, he had heard tales of the fearsome beasts. He knew about dragonfear scattering entire armies. He knew that dragon fire could destroy a stone tower with one blast, that dragon lightning could blow the tops off of mountains. One shriek from a dragon could freeze a person’s blood. Dragons were filled with magical might and fierce intelligence. Dragons were green, black, red, blue, copper, and gold and so on. This one was the color of mud.

It was no bigger than his mare. It looked like nothing more than a lizard-a very big lizard, true, but a lizard nonetheless. Whatever that thing was, it was not a dragon.

The reptile was moving with the lethargy of a cow. It was close to seven feet long, counting the tail, but never a dragon!

“Are you kidding?” Dayn asked.

“No,” Kresean replied.

“But that’s not a dragon!”

“It is to them, lad. That’s all that matters. We’re here to take care of their dragon. That’s their dragon. Let’s take care of it.”

Dayn sighed and crouched next to the ledge. He looked disconsolately down at the giant lizard. How was he going to make a ballad out of this? Why hadn’t some villager come and poked a spear into that hapless thing long before?

Dayn cleared his throat, lightly. “Well, go lop its head off, and let’s get back.”

“Not so fast. I’ve got a special plan.”

Dayn looked at him. “You need a plan?”

“Always have a plan,” Kresean said. “C’mon.”

Dayn watched as the warrior backed slowly away from the ledge, then rose and started down the hill. It took a moment for Dayn to gather his wits, then he took off after Kresean.

“What are you going to do?” Dayn asked as he drew up alongside, matching strides with the taller man.

“A little something I prepared,” Kresean said as they reached the horses.

“How could you prepare something?”

“I scouted out this job out ahead of time.”

“I thought this was your first trip to Feergu!”

“It is, lad, it is. I’d never been to the village before, just to these caves after I heard about the commotion. Do you think I would have risked our lives coming out here for a real dragon? Be serious.” He unstrapped the flap on one of his saddlebags, removed a large bundle, and set it on the ground. It was a young pig Kresean must have bought in the town. It had been cleaned and dressed and was ready for the spit.

“But I thought. .” Dayn said. “Why not just go poke your sword into the damn thing?”

Kresean handed Dayn the pig and smiled. “I don’t relish the thought of being bitten.”

“What? You faced worst horrors in the Chaos War.” Kresean drew his sword and presented it hilt first to Dayn. “If you’re in such a hurry, why don’t you kill it?” Dayn gazed at the thing over the belly of the dead pig. “I’ve never used a sword in my life!”

“Well I have, and I assure you that my method is much safer. Brains over brawn, lad. That’s my motto. Now, here’s what I need you to do. .”

Half an hour later, Dayn and Kresean climbed the hill again. Dayn frowned the entire way. Kresean carried the pig, which was now stuffed with poisonous Frissa leaves.

They regained their perch and the huge lizard was still there, nibbling at the last remains of one of the sheep carcasses. Kresean wasted no time. He pitched the pig over the ledge. It landed with a thud a few feet from the reptile. The lizard whipped about and hissed. When the pig did not respond, the lizard hissed again, still oblivious to Kresean and Dayn. Slowly, the creature lumbered over. It prodded the thing with its nose a few times and touched it all over with the tip of its forked tongue. Finally, it began feasting.

The lizard devoured the pig, and the two men settled in to wait again. Dayn was miserable. An hour passed, and the lizard began retching. It vomited for an hour, then it wheezed for an hour. Finally, it flopped onto its stomach and lay there, breathing laboriously.

Dayn had his hands wrapped around his shins, his head on his knees. He looked at Kresean. “Now what?”

“Merely the end of phase one, lad.”

Dayn growled to himself.

“Come help me with this.” Kresean moved over to a boulder that sat near the cliff. He began pushing it toward the edge. With a sigh, Dayn went to help him.

Straining and grunting, the two of them pushed the boulder over the edge. The huge rock missed the lizard, but it started a mini landslide. Dozens of stones rained down on the beast, bouncing off its back and legs. The poor creature, lacking the strength to crawl away, was clobbered.

Dayn look at Kresean expectantly, but the warrior shook his head.

“Just a few more,” he said, and headed for another stone.

With a series of three more minor landslides, they managed to completely bury the hapless creature. Kresean climbed down a more gradual part of the cliff and made his approach. Dayn watched as the warrior walked gingerly on top of the pile of rocks and stuck his sword into it. After a few tries, he hit something. He smiled and pushed harder. Kresean stabbed the spot repeatedly until the dirt flowed red. He raised his sword triumphantly and winked at Dayn.

“How’s that for a tidy bit of dragon slaying?”

Dayn said nothing.

“Come on, lad. Help me dig this up, and we’ll get the head.”

“That certainly was a harrowing experience, wasn’t it, lad?” Kresean winked, patting the dusty, battered lizard’s head that rested on the rump of his horse. The left half of the head had been caved in by the landslides.

Dayn said nothing.

“So, have you given any thought to how you’re going to compose our epic ballad?” Kresean asked. “I’ve got some titles I’ve been playing around with, if you want to hear. I was thinking maybe Kresean and the Cave of Doom. Or maybe Flashing Swords and Dragon’s Teeth. How about-”

“How about Cowardly Kresean and the Poisoned Piglet!” Dayn yelled at the warrior. “How about He Won by a Landslide1. You’re a fraud! You lied to me!”

“I never lied to you,” Kresean said, holding up his hand. “You’re a bard. You have an active imagination. That’s good. That’s fine. That’s what you’re supposed to have. That’s what will make the ballad something to cheer for. I came here to help these villagers, and I have. They were afraid of that dragon. The dragon’s dead now. We did what they asked us to do.”