Piers Anthony - Castle Roogna

The centaurs were nervously pacing the rampart. They were neither the scholars of Dor's day nor the warriors of another day; they were comparatively simple workers not well equipped for war. Each carried a bow and quiver of arrows, however; centaurs always had been fine archers.

The crew was supposed to be engaged in construction, but the big stone blocks lay where they had been hauled, unplaced, while the centaurs looked out over the terrain.

"The King has put me in charge of this wall," Dor announced, attracting their attention. "We have three things to do. First, we must complete the construction of this wall as far as we can before the fighting starts. Second, we must defend it when the monsters arrive. And third, we have a special mission. I am going to put a spell on the shot for this catapult, and-"

"Who are you?" a centaur demanded. It was the first one Dor had met-the one who had refused to tell him where King Roogna was, and who had incited the other centaurs against Jumper. What a foul break, to have to work with this particular creature and crew! Foul break? It was a Murphy break! That curse was getting stronger, not weaker, as the end approached. The supposedly good break of having the catapult right where Dor had been assigned anyway was no good break at all. This was his worst possible location.

But he had to fight that curse. After all, he was a Magician too, and if that meant anything-

"Centaur, I am the Magician Dor," he said coldly. "You will address me with the respect my status requires."

"The bug lover!" the centaur exclaimed. He put his hands on his front hips. He was a large, muscular brute, taller than Dor's body. Dor was sure that his body's facility with the sword would give him a physical advantage over this creature, but he hardly wanted this to degenerate to a common brawl.

Now that the centaur had called his bluff, defying him, what was Dor to do next? This was no occasion for nicety of expression, and there was no time to win the centaur's confidence or respect slowly. Dor had to get to the heart of the matter in minutes. So-he would have to use his talent. "Come aside with me, centaur," he said. "What I have to say to you is private."

"Aside with you, bug lover?" the creature demanded incredulously. He strode forward and made as if to swing his fist-and Dor's sword pointed at his throat. Dor's body had done it after all, acting before thought. But in this case it was an appropriate response.

The centaur blinked. He had been impressively countered. That gleaming blade could have pierced his arteries before he drew back-and could still do so. He decided to accede to the private talk, at least until he could get his hooves into fighting position.

Dor sheathed his sword abruptly and turned his back, as if completely unconcerned about any action the centaur might take. And of course if the centaur struck now, it would be an act of cowardice in full view of his crew. He followed Dor to a separate place on the wall, where the catapult stood behind a battlement.

Dor turned and looked at the centaur's work harness. "What is his name?" he asked it.

"Cedric Centaur," the harness replied. The centaur jumped, startled but unspeaking.

"What is his real problem?" Dor asked.

"He's impotent," the harness responded.

"Hey, you can't-" Cedric started. But it was too late for him to conceal his secret.

This was a thing Dor did not properly understand-and he needed to in this case. "What is impotent?"

"He is."

"I mean, what does impotent mean?"

"Impotence."

"What?"

"You should have said "What is impotence?' the harness said.

"Never mind!" the centaur exclaimed, agitated. "I'll work the catapult!"

"I'm not trying to tease you," Dor told him. "I'm trying to solve your problem."

"Ha!" the harness said derisively.

"No smart remarks from you!" Dor snapped at it. "Just explain what is impotence."

"This stallion can't stallion. Every time he tries to-"

"Enough!" Cedric cried. "I told you I'd work the catapult, or any other chore! And I won't call you bug lover any more! What more do you demand?"

Dor was getting a notion of the problem. It was similar to what his body felt when he stopped it from responding to Millie or to an inviting nymph. "I'm not demanding anything. I'm just-"

"Put him with a filly, he's a gelding," the harness quipped. "You never saw anything so-"

Cedric put his hands to the harness and ripped it off by brute strength, his face purple-red.

"That will do," Dor said. "I just want to have harmony among us. I won't tell anyone else about this." He addressed the broken harness. "You may be broken, but you can still talk."

"Oh, I'm hurting!" the harness groaned. "Now you understand how Cedric feels. It is not nice to make fun of anyone's incapacities." Dor was thinking of the way the bigger boys had made fun of him, back in his own time.

"It sure isn't!" the centaur agreed. "What is responsible for Cedric's Impotence?"

"A spell, of course," the harness said, chastened.

Now the centaur was startled. "A spell?"

"What spell?" Dor asked.

"An impotence spell, dummy!"

"Don't you talk to the Magician like that!" the centaur exclaimed, giving his harness a shake. "I mean, how does it operate?"

"It reverses the normal urges at the critical moment, so-"

"So the stronger the urge, the stronger the hang-up," Dor said, remembering his experience in the antenna forest. That was a mean sort of spell!

"So when he gets close to his sexy dapplegray filly, he-"

"I'm going to burn this harness!" Cedric cried. But he did not seem wholly displeased. He must have believed his condition was a fault of his own, and the discovery that an external spell caused it was good news.

"How may that spell be abolished?" Dor asked. "I wouldn't know that," the harness said. "After all, I'm only an item of apparel. I only know what I have observed."

"Then how do you know about this spell?"

"This oaf was asleep when the spell was cast, but I wasn't. I never sleep."

"How can you sleep when you're not alive?" Cedric demanded, some of his natural belligerence returning.

"Who cast that spell?" But the harness did not answer him. "Was it my rival Fancyface? I'll boot his tail through his snout!"

"Who cast it?" Dor asked.

"Celeste did it," the harness replied smugly.

"That's my filly!" Cedric cried. "Why would she-" He paused, his unhandsome face working. "Why that little bitch of an equine! No wonder she was so understanding! No wonder she always made such a point of being true to me! She knew why I couldn't-"

"I'm sorry I can't discover the cure," Dor said.

"Don't bother about that, Magician!" Cedric said. "Centaurs don't work magic; she had to have gotten the spell from some human witch. All I need to do is go to a shyster warlock and buy a counterspell. But I won't tell Celeste-" He smiled with grim lust. "Oh, no, I won't tell her! I'll just let her lead me on as usual, teasing me, and I'll fake it until-oh, is she going to get a surprise!"

They returned to the crew. "How's the bug lover doing?" one of the other centaurs called, neighing.

Cedric turned to fix the other with a steely stare. "I'm doing just great," he said. "So is the Magician. We're going to help him all we can, and do just exactly what he says, aren't we." It was not a question.

Dor affected not to notice the chagrin of the other centaurs. They had been brought in line, without doubt! "Where is there a harpy flight, within catapult range?" he asked.

A centaur at the parapet cocked his head. "That way," he said, pointing north.

"That way, sir!" Cedric corrected him, delivering a swift cuff on the flank. "You address the Magician with proper respect."

"Uh, just call me Dor," Dor said. He had made an issue of respect, but now was disinclined.