Aleatha smiled to herself as she sped across the moss, holding her skirts high to avoid tripping. The dowager'd had hysterics over a dragon. Wait until she heard this news! Her only son, nephew of Her Majesty, joined in marriage with Aleatha Quindiniar, wealthy trollop. It would be the scandal of the year.

Now, pray the blessed Mother, we just live through this!

Paithan made his way down across the sloping lawn toward the lake. The ground began to rumble again, and he paused to glance about hastily, searching for any signs of the dragon. But the rolling ceased almost as soon as it had started, and the young elf took off again.

He wondered at himself, wondered at his courage. He was skilled in the use of the railbow, but the puny weapon would hardly help him against a dragon. Orn's blood! What am I doing down here? After some serious consideration, given while he was skulking behind a bush to get a better view, he decided it wasn't courage at all. Nothing more than curiosity. It had always landed his family in trouble.

Whoever the person was wandering down around the lake's edge, he was beginning to puzzle Paithan immensely. He could see now that it was a man and that he didn't belong to their party. He didn't even belong to their race! It was a human-an elderly one, to judge by appearances: an old man with long white hair straggling down his back and a long white beard straggling down his front. He was dressed in long, bedraggled mouse-colored robes. A conical, shabby hat with a broken point teetered uncertainly on his head. And he seemed-most incredibly-to have just stepped out of the lake! Standing on the shoreline, oblivious to the danger, the old man was wringing water out of his beard, peering into the lake, and muttering to himself.

"Someone's slave, probably," said Paithan. "Got muddled and wandered off. Can't think why anyone would keep a slave as old and decrepit as that, though. Hey, there! Old man!" Paithan threw caution to Orn and careened down the hill.

The old man paid no attention. Picking up a long, wooden walking staff that had clearly seen better days, he began poking around the water!

Paithan could almost see the scaly body writhing up from the depths of the blue lake. His chest constricted, his lungs burned. "No! Old man! Father," he shouted, switching to human, which he spoke fluently, using the standard form of human address to any elderly male. "Father! Come away from there! Father!"

"Eh?" The old man turned, peering at Paithan with vague eyes. "Sonny? Is that you, boy?" He dropped the staff and flung wide his arms, the motion sending him staggering. "Come to my breast, Sonny! Come to your papa!"

Paithan tried to halt his own forward momentum in time to catch hold of the old man, toddling precariously on the shore. But the elf slipped in the wet grass, slid to his knees, and the old man, arms swinging wildly, toppled backward into the lake, landing with a splash.

Slavering jaws, lunging out of the water, snapping them both in two ... Paithan plunged in after the old man, caught hold of him by something-perhaps his beard, perhaps a mouse-colored sleeve-and dragged him, sputtering and blowing, to the shore. "Damn fine way for a son to treat his aged parent!" The old man glared at Paithan. "Knocking me into the lake!"

"I'm not your son. Fa-I mean, sir. And it was an accident." Paithan tugged the old man along, pulling him up the hillside. "Now, we really should get away from here! There's a dragon-"

The old man came to a dead stop. Paithan, caught off balance, almost fell over. He jerked on the thin arm, to get the old man moving again, but it was like trying to budge a wortle tree.

"Not without my hat," said the old man.

"To Orn with your hat!" Paithan ground his teeth. He looked fearfully back into the lake, expecting at any moment to see the water start to boil. "You doddering idiot! There's a drag-" He turned back to the old man, stared, then said in exasperation, "Your hat's on your head!"

"Don't lie to me, Sonny," said the old man peevishly. He leaned down and picked up his staff, and the hat slipped over his eyes. "Struck blind, by god!" he said in awed tones, stretching out groping hands.

"It's your hat!" Paithan leaped forward, grabbed the old man's hat and yanked it off his head. "Hat! Hat!" he cried, waving it in front of the old man's face.

"That's not mine," said the old man, staring at it suspiciously. "You've switched hats on me. Mine was in much better condition-"

"Come on!" cried Paithan, righting back a crazed desire to laugh.

"My staff!" shrieked the old man, planting his feet firmly, refusing to move.

Paithan toyed with the idea of leaving the old man to lake root in the moss if he wanted, but the elf couldn't watch a dragon devour anyone-even a human. Running back, Paithan retrieved the staff, stuck it in the old man's hand, and began to pull him toward the house.

The elf feared the old human might have difficulty making it back, for the way was long and uphill. Paithan heard the breath begin to whistle in his own lungs and his legs ached with the strain. But the old man appeared to have incredible stamina; he tottered along gamely, his staff thumping holes in the moss.

"I say, I think something's following us!" cried the old man, suddenly.

"There is?" Paithan whirled around.

"Where?" The old man swung his staff, narrowly missing knocking down Paithan. "I'll get him, by the gods-"

"Stop! It's all right!" The elf caught hold of the wildly swinging staff. "There's nothing there. I thought you said ... something was following us."

"Well, if there isn't why in the name of all that's holy are you making me run up this confounded hill?"

"Because there's a dragon in the la-"

"The lake!" The old man's beard bristled, his bushy eyebrows stuck out in all directions. "So that's where he is! He dunked me in there deliberately!" The old man raised a clenched hand, shook his fist at the air in the direction of the water. "I'll fix you, you overgrown mud worm! Come out! Come out where I can get a look at you!" Dropping his staff, the old man began rolling up the sleeves of his sodden robes. "I'm ready. Yes, sirree-bob, I'm gonna cast a spell this time that'll knock out your eyeballs!"

"Wait a minute!" Paithan felt the sweat begin to chill on his body. "Are you saying, old man, that this dragon's ... yours?"

"Mine! Of course, you're mine, aren't you, you slithering excuse for a reptile?"

"You mean, the dragon's under your control?" Paithan began to breathe more easily. "You must be a wizard."

"Must I?" The old man appeared highly startled at the news.

"You have to be a wizard and a powerful one at that to control a dragon."

"Well ... er ... you see. Sonny." The old man began to stroke his beard in some embarrassment. "That's sort of a question between us-the dragon and me."

"What's a question?" Paithan felt his stomach muscles begin to tighten.

"Er-who's in control. Not that I have any doubts, mind you! It's the-uh-dragon who keeps forgetting."

I was right. The old man's insane. I've got a dragon and an insane human on my hands. But what in Mother Peytin's holy name was this old fool doing in the lake?

"Where are you, you elongated toad?" The wizard continued to shout. "Come out! It's no use hiding! I'll find you-"

A shrill scream cut through the tirade.

"Aleatha!" cried Paithan, turning, staring up the hill.

The scream ended in a strangled choke.

"Thea, I'm coming!" The elf broke loose of his momentary paralysis and tore for the house.

"Hey, Sonny!" shouted the old man, glaring after him, arms akimbo. "Where do you think you're going with my hat?"

CHAPTER 6.

EQUILAN, LAKE ENTHIAL.

PAITHAN JOINED A STREAM OF MEN, LED BY LORD DURNDRUN, RUSHING IN THE direction of the cry. Rounding the norinth wing of the house, they came to a skidding halt. Aleatha stood immobile on a small mossy knoll. Before her, its huge body between the woman and the carriage house, was the dragon.

He was enormous. His head towered above the trees. His body's full length was lost in the shadowy depths of the jungle. He was wingless, for he lived all of his life in the dark depths of the jungle floor, slithering around the boles of Pryan's gigantic trees. Strong, taloned feet could tear through the thickest vegetation or strike down a man at a blow. His long tail whipped behind him as he moved, cutting swaths through the jungle, leaving trails that were well-known (and immensely feared) by adventurers. His intelligent red eyes were fixed on the woman.

The dragon was not threatening Aleatha; his great jaws had not parted, though the upper and lower fangs could be seen protruding from the front of the mouth. A red tongue flicked in and out between the teeth. The armed men watched, unmoving, uncertain. Aleatha held very still.

The dragon cocked its head, gazing at her.

Paithan shoved his way to the front of the group. Lord Durndrun was stealthily releasing the catch on a railbow. The weapon awoke as Durndrun began raising the stock to his shoulder. The bolt in the rail was screeching, 'Target? Target?"

"The dragon," Durndrun ordered.

"Dragon?" The bolt appeared alarmed, and was inclined to argue, a problem with intelligent weapons. "Please refer to owner's manual, section B, paragraph three. I quote, 'Not to be used against any foe larger than-' "

"Just go for the heart!" - "Which one?"

"What the devil do you think you're doing?" Paithan caught hold of the lord's elbow.

"I can get a good shot at the eyes-"

"Are you insane? You miss, and the dragon'll go for Aleatha!"

The lord was pale, his expression troubled, but he continued to make ready his railbow. "I'm an excellent shot, Paithan. Stand aside."

"I won't!"

"It's the only chance we have! Damn it, man, I don't like this any more than you do, but-"

"Excuse me, Sonny," came an irritated voice from behind. "But you're crumpling my hat!"

Paithan swore. He'd forgotten the old man, who was shoving his way through the crowd of tense, glowering men. "No respect for the elderly! Think we're all doddering old fools, don't you? Why I had a spell once that would have fried your socks off. Can't think of the name offhand. Fire bell? No that's not quite it. I have it-tire sale! No, doesn't sound right, either. I'll come up with it. And you. Sonny!" The old man was highly incensed. "Look what you've done to my hat!"

"Take the damn hat and-"

"Hush!" breathed Durndrun.

The dragon had slowly turned its head and was focusing on them. The red eyes narrowed.

"You!" the dragon snarled in a voice that rocked the foundations of the lord's house.

The old man was attempting to beat some sort of shape back into his battered hat. At the sound of the thundering "You!" he peered around bleary-eyed and eventually caught sight of the gigantic green head rearing upward, level with the treetops.

"Ah ha!" cried the old man, staggering backward. He pointed a shaking, accusing finger. "You overgrown frog! You tried to drown me!"

"Frog!"

The dragon's head shot upward, its front feet dug deep into the moss, shaking the ground. Aleatha stumbled and fell with a scream. Paithan and Lord Durndrun took advantage of the dragon's distraction to run to the woman's aid. Paithan crouched by her side, his arms around her-Lord Durndrun stood above her, his weapon raised. From the house came the wails of the women, certain that this was the end.

The dragon's head dove downward, the wind of its passing ripped the leaves from the trees. Most of the elves hurled themselves flat; a few of the bravest held their ground. Lord Durndrun fired a bolt. Shrieking in protest, it struck the green, iridescent scales, bounced off, landed on the moss, and slithered away in the undergrowth. The dragon, seemingly, didn't notice. His head stopped only a few feet from that of the old man.

"You sorry excuse for a wizard! You're damn right I tried to drown you! But now I've changed my mind. Drowning's too good for you, you moth-eaten relic! After I've dined on elf flesh, beginning with that toothsome blond appetizer over there, I'm going to rip the bones out of your skin one by one, starting with your little finger-"

"Oh, yeah?" shouted the old man. He jammed his hat on his head, threw his staff to the ground, and once again began rolling up his sleeves. "We'll see about that!"

"I'll fire now, while he's not looking," whispered Lord Durndrun. "Paithan, you and Aleatha make a run for it-"

"You're a fool, Durndrun! We can't fight that beast! Wait and see what the old man can do. He told me he controls the dragon!"

"Paithan!" Aleatha dug her nails into his arm. "He's a crazy old human. Listen to his lordship!"

"Shhh!"

The old man's voice was rising in a high-pitched quaver. Closing his eyes, he wiggled his fingers in the dragon's general direction and began to chant, swaying back and forth in time to the rhythm of his words.

The dragon's mouth parted, the wickedly sharp teeth glistened in the twilight, the tongue flicked dangerously.

Aleatha closed her eyes and buried her head in Lord Durndrun's shoulder, jostling the railbow, which squeaked in annoyance. The lord juggled the weapon, clumsily clasped his arm around the woman and held her tightly.

"You speak human! What's he saying, Paithan?"

When young I started seeking, for love and things in dreaming I set out with clouds a'streaming and a hat upon my head. I began with grave intention hoping for divine intervention; nothing could prepare me for the things I learned instead.

At first I looked for battle seeking mail and sword to rattle but they herded us like cattle and we never did see a fight. I stood in fields for hours, among the pikes and flowers; I decided it was time to go and snuck away at night.

I've been roamin' five and twenty, seen war and king and shanty, I've known handsome men aplenty who've yet to kiss a girl. Yes, I've roamed the whole world over, seen men both drunk and sober but I've never seen a man can drink as much as Bonnie Earl.

Paithan gasped, gulped. "I'm-I'm not certain. I suppose it must-er-be magic!" He began looking around on the ground for a large tree branch, anything he could use as a weapon. He didn't think this was the time to tell the lord that the old man was attempting to spellbind a dragon by singing one of Thillia's most popular drinking songs.

I moved in royal places a king took me to 's spaces, To master courtly graces and to learn of lordly might.

I took the good king's offer, but emptied out his coffer, And with loaded bags a'weigh with gold I disappeared from sight.

In time I met a lady in a spot all dark and shady, with words I was quite handy and we talked long into night. That eve she let me bed her, her fam'ly said to wed her, so with a price put on my head I left with morning's light.

I've been roamin' five and twenty, seen war and king and shanty. I've known handsome men aplenty who've yet to kiss a girl. Yes, I've roamed the whole world over, seen men both drunk and sober but I've never seen a man can drink as much as Bonnie Earl.

"Blessed Orn!" breathed Lord Durndrun. "It's working!"

Paithan lifted his head, looked up in astonishment. The dragon's snout had begun to bob up and down in time to the music.

The old man continued singing, taking Bonnie Earl through innumerable verses. The elves remained frozen, afraid to move, afraid to break the spell. Aleatha and Lord Durndrun held each other a little closer. The dragon's eyelids drooped, the old man's voice softened. The creature seemed almost asleep when suddenly its eyes flew open, its head reared up.

The elves grabbed their weapons. Lord Durndrun pushed Aleatha behind him. Paithan lifted a tree branch.

"My god, sir!" cried the dragon, staring at the old man. "You're soaked through! What have you been doing?"

The old man looked sheepish. "Well, I-"

"You must change those wet clothes, sir, or you'll catch your death. A warm fire and a hot bath are requisite."