Handbook for Dragon Slayers (6 page)

“Thank you,” I said. “Thanks to you both! How did you find me?”

“You have Parz to thank—he saw you going off with Ivo from the upper floor of Boar House—”

“I didn't realize until too late that you were being kidnapped,” Parz said sheepishly.

“He came to get me, and we followed Ivo down here to Snail Castle. What happened? What is Ivo
doing
?”

I laughed without mirth, and told them all about Ivo's imprisonment of my mother and his plan to take over Alder Brook. “If I don't turn up to collect the rents and hear the renewed oaths of fealty on Christmas Day, then I forfeit my claim on Alder Brook to Ivo.”

Judith shook her head. “He's an idiot! No one is going to stand for that. Are you ready to go?”

“Go where?”

“Back to reclaim Alder Brook!” Judith said.

“Oh!” I said, and stared at Judith, startled to realize that I did not want to return to Alder Brook. I hadn't been trying to fool Cousin Ivo; I hadn't been trying to make the best of a bad situation. I really did not want to go back.

I had no idea how to explain that to Judith.

“It's too soon,” Parz said, and I turned to him gratefully. “Ivo will just devise another plan. He still has your mother.”

“Right!” I said eagerly. “Also, Ivo has at least one spy—maybe dozens—inside Alder Brook.”

“Who?” Judith said, her voice rising on an indignant note. Alarmed, Parz and I both shushed Judith, looking back toward Snail Castle's dark shape.

“We need to get away from here, whatever we do,” Parz said, disappearing among the trees. He returned moments later leading out an enormous warhorse. I immediately hid behind Judith.

Parz laughed. “What are you doing, Tilda?”

I didn't want to say I was afraid of the horse. But I was. I peered at it over Judith's shoulder.

“I was never taught to ride,” I said.

Judith said, “In fact, she was never
allowed
to ride.”

“Why?” Parz asked.

“My foot,” I said, after a bare moment's hesitation. “The position of my foot won't allow it.”

“Won't it? You could ride aside instead of astride.”

“And it's dangerous,” I blurted out. My mother had assured me that if a horse stepped on my foot, or threw me, I would walk with an even worse limp than the one I already possessed, or stop walking altogether. I had always stayed well away from the stables.

“Don't worry, I'll ride with you,” Parz said.

Judith gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder as she dragged our clothes chest into the trees.

She returned on the back of a dangerous-looking palfrey that puffed and snorted and danced around. I stared, too surprised to be frightened. When had Judith learned to ride?

She knocked on the clothes chest mounted behind her. “All set,” she said.

“Time to go,” Parz said, snagging me around the waist. He threw me onto the warhorse before I had a chance to protest. I clutched. I couldn't say
what
I clutched, since my eyes were closed, but I think I got some mane and some saddle.

“Open your eyes,” Parz said, climbing up behind me. I peeked out from behind my eyelids and closed them again immediately.

I was too far from the ground. My feet dangled pointlessly from where I perched sideways before Parz. He held me loosely around the waist, but I wasn't sure that would be enough to keep me from slipping off.

We hurried away from Snail Castle, and I held on to the saddle for dear life and wished Parz would hold me more tightly. And not because he was handsome and noble and brave, but because I didn't want to die like this.

In fact, I wanted to like riding with Parz much more than I actually did, even after the galloping was over and we slowed to a walk. I felt sure I was supposed to enjoy being half embraced by him. But mostly, fear subsided into the dull acceptance that, actually, riding a horse was just a little bit more about discomfort than terror. My feet got cold, my sit-bones got sore, and I found that I did not like Parz's onion breath in my ear.

Every time I glanced over at Judith, she was looking like she reveled in the moment; but then, she wasn't smelling onions.

Our steeds sent up plumes of white breath into the starlit night. Distant smokehouses curing the autumn's pork scented the air and reminded me of Alder Brook. I yawned hugely, and longed for a fire and the comfort of my mother's sea-duck-down blankets.

Judith trotted up alongside us when the road widened.

“You're sure someone inside Alder Brook is working for Ivo?” she asked.

“How else would Ivo know to come find me at Boar House?” I said. “Why else would he think his plan would succeed?”

“He could have bribed someone,” Judith said.

“Or worse,” Parz said. “He might've threatened violence.”

“Alder Brook will never side with him over Tilda!” Judith said stoutly.

I didn't know about that. Nothing that had happened recently made me think that the people of Alder Brook wouldn't let Ivo put me in the dungeon, or ship me off to the dragon at Mount Lorelei, for all I knew. When they saw strong young Ivo with his two good feet and a face that could catch a rich bride easily enough, they wouldn't care if he fanned feuds between Everwinus and Wecelo or whoever. It would be better for everyone in the long run, and they would see it that way.

“I don't think I can return to Alder Brook without my mother,” I hedged.

“So . . . ,” Judith said. “We should rescue your mother.”

“I don't want to say that's impossible,” Parz said. “But we don't exactly have an army.”

“You rescued Tilda from Snail Castle—snatched her right from under their noses!”

“Snail Castle is tiny and unfortified, and I'd been there before. We only had to rescue Tilda, and she can walk. Princess Isobel's leg is broken, and she has two—three?—ladies-in-waiting with her, at the very least. I've never been to Castle Larkspur, but from all I've heard, it's nearly as well defended as Alder Brook Keep. Now, listen. I've been thinking. You both can come with me until it's time to reclaim Alder Brook. Ivo won't think to look for you in the places I'm going.”

“Where exactly are you going?” I asked.

“Well, I'm not sure
where
yet, but I'm going to hunt down a dragon and kill it,” Parz said. “Regain my honor, and prove to Sir Kunibert that I'm a worthy squire.”

Judith and I were silent, trying to read each other's faces in the dark and failing miserably.

“You'd be a great help to me,” Parz continued.

“I'm not exactly dragon slayer material,” I said stiffly.

“You're better than dragon slayer material, Tilda,” he said. “I need you.”

“You do?”

“Let's be honest. I'm not a real dragon slayer yet. I had years of training ahead of me, and Sir Kunibert was very closemouthed with his information. You remember how we met. . . .”

I sighed and nodded. “You were looking for books on dragons. Alder Brook didn't have any.”

“You had more than Sir Kunibert! You had those biographies of saints who slew dragons—and what's more, you read them for me, and told me everything useful in them. Like Patrick tricking the ancient dragon into crawling inside a tree trunk and kicking it into the sea. There have to be more books about dragons, in a cloister somewhere—we can go, and read their books about dragons. I need you—I need the knowledge you can find, to make up for my unfinished training.”

An idea struck me. “Too bad I don't have the blank book Sir Kunibert gave me,” I said. “I could've used it to record everything we find.”

Judith fumbled with a saddlebag. “You mean
this
blank book?” She rode closer and pushed it into my hands.

“Oh, yes!” I hugged the little book to me, stroking its soft leather cover with my thumbs. “Parz, I could write a handbook for you!”

“A handbook for dragon slayers,” Parz said, clearly struck by the idea. “We can also go around the countryside looking for the best information on dragon slaying—consult with other dragon slayers, certainly, but also visit places where famous dragons were slain—and you can record it all.”

This was it! This was my dream of writing something all my own—something important. It didn't exactly rival the works of the heathen philosophers, but it could be my answer to Aristotle and Xenophon. A handbook for dragon slayers, written by me, Mathilda of Alder Brook.

“And Judith will help me slay the dragon,” Parz said.

“Judith will—what?”

Judith was silent. Parz was silent.

“I don't think—” I began.

“Most Illustrious, I have a confession,” Judith interrupted.

She rarely called me Most Illustrious, even though it was my proper title. She must be feeling very guilty about something.

Parz interrupted. “It was all my fault, Tilda.”

“No,” Judith said. “It's mine.” She took a deep breath. “I've been sneaking away from Alder Brook to practice with Parz.”

“You've been . . . To practice
what
with Parz?”

“Riding a warhorse, throwing spears, the quintain, the sword, the lance. . . .”

“You have? Why?”

Judith made an exasperated sound.

“Because I needed a friend,” Parz said quietly. “I've been the least of Sir Kunibert's squires for a long while. My head . . . was only the most recent problem, and it was the drop that caused the cup to run over, but this had been a long time coming. I needed someone to practice with for extra time, where the others couldn't see me. And . . . Judith agreed to.”

“I see.” I was almost too shocked to speak. I wished that I could see Judith's face, but the starlight was too dim. “Ah!” I said, suddenly putting together the puzzle of Judith's behaviors of the last months. “This is why you got up earlier than everyone else all summer—you weren't in the privies with a bowel complaint at all!”

“Tilda,” Judith protested with a moan.

“Oh, no. You don't get to make up a story like that and expect me to not share it with Parz. Oh! And you haven't gotten suddenly clumsier—all your mystery bruises are from these practices?”

“Yes,” Judith said.

“And
that
is why you are overly familiar with Lord Parzifal.” I snapped my fingers, pleased with how I'd put all the disparate pieces together. “And why you know how to ride a horse.”

“I'll accept my punishment without complaint,” Judith said, and my satisfaction faded. Judith had kept secrets from me, done things she shouldn't have done—but she had not in the end abandoned her duty to Alder Brook. And right now, I was keeping a secret from her, one far bigger. I couldn't tell her—couldn't bring myself to tell her—that I wanted no part of Alder Brook anymore.

“Tilda? Are you all right?” Judith asked.

“I'm fine. There's no punishment, Judith,” I said. “I couldn't punish you for helping Parz, even if it would be right and proper.”

“Thank you, Tilda,” Judith said. She was relieved, of course, but I could hear her eagerness. She wanted to do this, she wanted to slay dragons with Parz.

It was base deceit, on my part, to use her secret wishes to aid my own. If I agreed to this plan, the promise of dragon slaying would keep her distracted from our return to Alder Brook for quite some time.

I nodded. “So it's settled, then? We're going to become dragon slayers.”

W
E MOVED ON THROUGH THE NIGHT, ANXIOUS TO
leave Snail Castle far behind. The autumn winds had stilled, which was a relief; the last thing we needed was the threat of the Wild Hunt and their windstorm sweeping down on us.

To keep ourselves awake, we talked about dragons and the handbook for dragon slayers. Or rather, the
Handbook for Dragon Slayers
—that was clearly the book's title. My fingers twitched, yearning for quills and ink. I wanted to take notes. I bent my fingers to hold an imaginary pen and traced the opening words on my leg. I would begin with a curse—a book curse, to protect the
Handbook
.

We shared everything we knew about dragons, whether we thought the others might know it or not. I told the stories of Saint Magnus Dragonslayer that I had looked up for Parz. The town of River Bend—but two days' ride up the Rhine from here—had been haunted by dragons until Saint Magnus and his friend Theodor came to drive them out. Saint Magnus had commanded the chief of the dragons to hold still, and smashed in its skull with his holy staff.

“It's too bad none of us are more holy,” I said. “That seems to be the most effective way to kill dragons.”

“I don't have a staff, anyway,” Parz said. “We may have to go a different route.”

“Saint Magnus also killed a dragon at Horsehead Gorge in the south,” I said. “When the dragon tried to eat him, he threw resin and pitch into its mouth, which ignited on the dragon's internal fires and burned it from the inside out.”

“Now that's a practical tactic!” Parz said. “We should definitely get some resin and pitch.”

“Saint Magnus also tamed a tribe of bears and taught them to kill demons,” I said.

Parz's voice turned wistful. “Imagine what we could do with a tribe of bears.”

“Bears eat a lot, and they're rather testy,” Judith said. “Let's leave bear training to the saints.”

W
E CAME INTO THE
town of King's Winter with first light and the tolling of the Matins bells.

Parz reined in and waited for Judith. “Here's the plan. Make it known that we are crossing the Rhine today and heading toward Aix. When we leave town, we'll double back and make sure no one knows where we're really going. That way, if Ivo or anyone tries to follow us, he'll only find a false trail.”