Robert Asprin - Class Dis-Mythed

He staggered to his hind feet and roared. I had read that Manticores were nonsentient, but my textbook was wrong. This creature was wearing a uniform. Not much of one, admittedly: a polished gold-and-leather breastplate was tied to his mighty furred chest. Strapped around his mid-section was a wide belt from which hung several pouches and a gleaming dagger. Another dagger was strapped to his right ankle. Perched in the thick mane, in between the rounded ears, was a dark blue, flat-topped cap with a brim. And in his right paw was clenched a spherical container bound with leather straps. When another shower of rocks flew at him out of the crowd, he threw a massive arm around the container to protect it. I raised my eyebrows.

"Did he steal that?" Bunny whispered to me. "Is that what they're trying to get back?"

"I think it belongs to him," I said, in a low voice, heartened by the sight. "If you ask me—"

"Here he is!" Norb grabbed my arm and dragged me toward a huge bearded man standing behind a small army of crossbowmen kneeling to fire. "Master Flink, here's the wizard!"

"Hold your fire!" Flink ordered. Norb hurried to whisper in the big man's ear. The headman turned toward me. With a few silver lines at the temples, Master Flink had hair and beard as black as his beady little eyes.

"So, wizard, what do you think?" he demanded.

"I think," I intoned, "that you have a problem."

"Do you, now?" he exploded. "Well, you must be a soothsayer as well as a wizard! As if anyone couldn't tell we have a problem, dammit! Well, solve it! We'll pay you what Norb here tells me you want. More! Just get this damned monster out of my town!"

I inclined my head slightly, my expression grave. "As you wish, Master Flink. I do not believe that this concern is so serious that it merits more than my personal oversight. My apprentices will handle this matter." I folded my arms into my sleeves.

"Whatever you want," Flink growled. "Just get on with it! It was snoring away up to half an hour ago, but now it's up again, and look what it's done!"

"I assure you, the monster will be removed with as little additional damage as possible," I told Flink.

"Your apprentices will WHAT?" Melvine demanded. His shock was mirrored on the other five students' faces. The Pervects' jaws hung open. "You're kidding!"

I turned to them and lowered my voice. "No, I'm not kidding. You didn't like my exercises in the courtyard. You said they weren't practical enough. Well, here is a practical field exercise." I waved a hand in the direction of the Manticore. "Get a game plan together. Take him out of town. We'll deal with him there."

"Right," Jinetta said resolutely, assuming the leadership. The Pervects went into a huddle. She pulled her gazing crystal from her field pack and began to gesture over it. "Manticores, Manticores. Here's the entry in the Encyclopedia Pervetica."

The other girls peered over her shoulder. Bee peered around the square, muttering numbers to himself. "Forty yards by forty-five. Nine direct routes in, not counting air." Tolk just gawked, his long pink tongue lolling in amazement.

"I see," Pologne said, glancing up. "This creature is an adolescent. You can tell because the whiskers are no longer ivory colored, but not yet fully golden."

"And one of them is bent," Freezia added, "indicating a defeat by a more powerful opponent, such as a dragon. I recall from one of Professor Simble's lectures that Manticore whiskers are one of the most flexible and tough fibers in all the dimensions."

"No, not a dragon," Pologne corrected her. "Only a magikal attack could have bent it! Dragons are unlikely to have cast a spell. They prefer to use brute firepower."

"Of course!" Freezia tittered. "I defer to your superior memory, Polly." She pulled out a notebook and made a note in it with an orange plume. "Physical attack. How long ago, do you think?"

"I couldn't say for certain," Pologne said thoughtfully.

"Master Flink, there he goes again!" one of the bowman shouted. The Manticore had pulled himself to his feet and was staggering across the square.

"Hold your fire!" the headman said. "The wizard's about to do something!"

"When?" demanded a fat man in a flour-spattered tunic and apron. I deduced at once that he was the town baker. "He's tearing up my granary!"

The Manticore had pushed aside the canopy that hung over the entrance to the white-plastered building, and appeared to be trying to crawl inside, to the detriment of the door frame.

"Well, wizard? Hurry! He'll destroy my entire shop!"

If you've never felt the eyes of a thousand people fixed on you all at once, let me tell you it's uncomfortable. I kept my face, wearing the guise of the venerable and formidable wizard, from showing any emotion, but underneath I was growing as impatient as the townspeople. Still, I waited. I was fairly certain no one was in any direct danger from this monster at the moment, and I thought my students had an important lesson to learn.

At last, one of them took action. Melvine tugged at my sleeve.

"Uh, Skeeve, how about we leave?" he suggested, in as suave a voice as he could muster. "This doesn't have to be our fight, does it?"

"Sure it does!" Tolk said, goggling. "Let's go get him! Let's go get him! Now-wow-wow-wow!"

"We made a contract, Melvine," Bee added.

"Strictly speaking, Skeeve made the contract," Melvine said, planting his hands on his chest. "I had no problem with the exercises you had us doing. My aunt exaggerated a lot about me needing to get close with big-time experiences. Look, if you don't mind, I'll just observe from over there. Maybe up that street on the left. Whaddaya say?" The Cupy began to back away.

"What are you afraid of?" I asked.

Melvine halted, mouth open in indignation. "I'm not saying I'm afraid! I mean, this THING, with those big claws, and all those teeth—!"

"Well, if he's not fully mature, he won't have all his rows of teeth," Pologne said, still engrossed in her reading matter.

"What does that mean?" Bee asked curiously.

Pologne dragged him closer so he could see into the crystal ball. "See the chart? His emotions mature at a perceptible rate. Depending on his age, he will understand certain abstract notions better than others."

"You're saying we should appeal to his better sense, eh?" Tolk asked, his tongue lolling. "Good idea!"

Some of the townsfolk began to remark among themselves about the novelty of a talking dog. I regretted not giving him human semblance before we started out, but that would have given people something else to talk about when he dropped to all fours to run.

Melvine began to edge toward the rear of the square. I grabbed him by the collar and tossed him back into the midst of the others.

In the meantime, the headman ordered the archers to let fly. The bolts peppered the Manticore, who brushed them off with a fearsome roar. Blood seeped out of the golden fur. The Manticore staggered blindly in the direction of the bowmen. The people in his way screamed and ran. The Manticore lurched toward the noises, stinging here and there with his tail, and swiping with one big paw, but was too slow to hit any of them. He was hampered by the fact that he continued to clutch the round container tightly to his chest. Growling in disappointment, he dropped to all threes to crawl.

"Curse it, reload and prepare to fire!" Flink shouted.

The bowmen thrust the stirrups of their bows into the ground and yanked the strings back to the trigger, keeping one eye on the beast as they shoved fresh quarrels into the groove of their weapons. The Manticore snarled and kicked out at a haycart that unaccountably got in his way. The wagon tumbled end over end and crashed into the side of a building.

Some brave townsfolk mustered to throw more rocks at the monster. When he turned toward them, they fled to hide behind the archers, who were forming a trembling wedge behind me and my apprentices.