Tales of Ethshar

She drew a deep sigh. “I know,” she said. She looked around the room, as if hoping that someone else would suggest a solution, but nobody else was listening.

“Well,” she said, “I suppose I’ll have to go.”

Wuller couldn’t repress his smile; he beamed at her.

“But I don’t like it,” she added.

12

When she realized that he was not merely poor but totally penniless she bought him dinner, and allowed him to stay the night in her room at the inn. Wuller slept on the floor, and she slept on the bed, and he dared not suggest otherwise, either by word or deed.

For one thing, he had noticed that she carried a good long dagger in her belt, under the long vest she wore. The hilt was worn, which implied that it had seen much use and was not there simply for show.

In the morning she bought them both breakfast, gave the innkeeper a message to be sent to her father when next someone was bound to Aldagmor, bundled up her belongings, and stood waiting impatiently by the door while Wuller finished his meal and got his own pack squared away.

That done, the two of them marched side by side down the sloping streets toward the city gates. It had rained heavily during the night, and the cobbles were still damp and slippery, so that they had to move carefully.

This was the first time Wuller had seen Sardiron of the Waters by daylight, and he was too busy marveling at the strange buildings of dark stone, the fountains everywhere, the broad expanse of the river and the falls sparkling in the morning sun, to pay much attention to his beautiful companion.

Once they were out the gate, though, he found his gaze coming back to her often. She was very beautiful indeed. He had never seen another girl or woman to equal her.

He guessed her to be a year or two older than his own sixteen winters. Her face was too perfect to be much older than that, he thought, but she had a poise and self-assurance that he had rarely seen in anyone, of any age.

Although her beauty had been obvious, she had seemed less impressive, somehow, the night before; perhaps the dim light had been responsible. After all, as the saying had it, candlelight hides many flaws. Could it not equally well conceal perfection?

By the time they were out of earshot of the falls, and the towers of the council castle were shrinking behind them, he worked up the nerve to speak to her again for the first time since they had left the inn.

“You’re from Aldagmor?” he asked.

Immediately, he silently cursed himself for such a banality. Where else could someone named Seldis of Aldagmor be from?

She nodded.

“Do you come here often, then?”

She looked at him, startled. “Here?” she asked, waving at the muddy highway and the surrounding farms. “I’ve never been here in my life!”

“I meant Sardiron,” he said.

“Aldagmor’s part of Sardiron,” she replied. “Our baron’s vice-chairman of the Council, in fact.”

“I meant the city, Sardiron of the Waters,” Wuller explained with a trace of desperation.

“Oh,” she said. “Well, that’s not here. We left the city hours ago.” This was a gross exaggeration, but Wuller did not correct her. “I come down to the city about twice a year — usually once in the spring and once in the fall. I’m the one they can best spare, since I’m female and not strong enough for most of the work around... at home, so I make the trip to sell blood and hide and scales and order any supplies we need.”

“Lucky we were there at the same time, then,” Wuller said, smiling.

“Lucky for you,” she said.

Wuller’s smile vanished, and the conversation languished for a time.

The clouds thickened, and by midday it was drizzling. They stopped at an inn for lunch, hoping it would clear while they ate. Seldis paid for them both.

“This could be expensive,” she remarked.

Wuller groped for something to say.

“We’ll do our best to find a way to repay you,” he said at last.

She waved it away. “Don’t worry about it; it was my decision to come.”

Two hours later, when they were on the road again and the rain had worked itself up into a heavy spring downpour, she snapped at him, “I don’t know why I let you talk me into this!”

He said nothing.

13

They stayed the first night at the Blue Swan, in the town of Keron-Vir, but this time Teneria the innkeeper’s daughter was much less cooperative. She took one look at Seldis, and despite the dripping hair and soaked clothing saw that this was a beauty she could not possibly match; she refused to talk to either of them after that.

Seldis once again paid for meals and a small room, and once again she slept in the bed while Wuller slept on the floor.

He lay awake for half an hour or so, listening to the rain dripping from the eaves, before finally dozing off. He dared not even look at Seldis.

The rain had stopped by the time they left the next morning, and by noon Seldis was once again willing to treat Wuller as a human being. After a few polite remarks, he asked, “So how will you get rid of the dragon?”

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “I’ll need to see what the situation is.”

“But — ” he began.

She held up a hand. “No, really,” she said, “I don’t know yet, and even if I did, I might not want to tell you. Trade secrets, you know — family secrets.”

Wuller did not press the matter, but he worried about it. The oracle had said that Seldis could rid the village of the dragon, and Seldis herself seemed confident of her abilities, but still, he worried.

He remembered Alasha’s words, about virgins sacrificing themselves, and shifted his pack uneasily. Would Seldis sacrifice herself to the dragon?

The idea seemed silly at first thought — she hardly looked suicidal. On the other hand, she had agreed to make the journey in the first place, which certainly wasn’t a selfish decision. Just how altruistic was she?

He stole a glance at her. She was striding along comfortably, watching a distant hawk circling on the wind — scarcely the image he would expect of someone who intended to fling herself into a dragon’s jaws for the good of others.

He shook his head slightly. No, he told himself, that couldn’t be what she intended.

A nagging thought still tugged at him, though — it might turn out to be what the oracle had intended.

They stayed that night at the Burning Pine, in the village of Laskros, and as Wuller lay on the floor of their room, staring at the plank ceiling, he wondered if he was doing the right thing by taking Seldis to his village.

Why should she risk going there?

Why should he risk going back?

Wouldn’t it be better for both of them if they forgot about the dragon and the village and went off somewhere — Aldagmor, perhaps — together? He would court her, as best he could with no money and no