Blini Rickett and Puff Wiggery might have been entertaining but it was proving to be dangerous, too. I stomped up onto the porch and through the back door.
Velvet was about her kitchen chores and though it was still morning I could smell the promise of lunch. She turned when she heard my footsteps, knowing straight away that something was wrong.
“What’s the matter, my pet? You look fair vexed.”
I set the empty cup down on our table.
“I don’t know where to start. Rickett and Wiggery are idiots. Prattle is a jumble-headed interferer. Everyone else is so hungry their brains have dried up. And a large demon has fallen into next door’s field.”
“Oh, now don’t be such a grumbler, Delly. You’ll feel better when you’ve had some lunch.”
“What are we having?”
“Corn patties with an egg on top.”
“What I wouldn’t give for a loaf of bread.”
“The flour’s almost gone. I was saving it for a special occasion.”
“If this drought goes on much longer there may not
Velvet turned back to her cooking and tutted at me. Her hair was long and dark and silky, but in the hot weather she wore it in a knot with a wooden spoon through it. I could see the sweat on the back of her neck and the press of her hips where they stuck to the faded blue cotton of her dress. That was another thing about the heat; thoughts of rutting made it difficult to concentrate on anything else.
“What is that awful pew?” asked Velvet.
“Oh, it’s what’s left of the milk. The demon’s presence turned it just like that. Killed all the cabbages in next door’s field too—the ones that weren’t already dead.”
“Those peewits. They do nothing but argue and jizjam each other’s wives.”
She picked up the fouled cup and washed it in water that was three days old. I felt a wave of pity for the two farmers and their families. They’d gained a demon and lost an entire crop.
“It’s the heat. Makes folk cantankerous and lecherous.”
“Nonsense, Delly. Those two’ve always been that way and you know it.”
As usual, Velvet was right. I opened my comprehensive almanac and turned to the section on adversarial minions. There was no mention of what to do in case of demonic fallout.
Mostly it was about how to recognise demons and how to ward them off. The whole thrust of the section related to avoiding contact in the first place. I took that to mean eating them wasn’t a good idea. The pictures were detailed and it seemed that we had acquired a relatively high level demon. Well, high in a lowdown kind of way.
From outside there came the sound of angry voices and at first I thought it was just Rickett and Wiggery having one of their customary disagreements. But the volume rose and the numbers of voices increased until it sounded like a riot was going on. I sighed, pushed my chair back and walked to the back door to take a look. In the field it looked as though a fight was about to break out. There was pushing and shoving and many fingers being pointed. In the midst of it Leopold Prattle was adeptly failing to maintain control.
“Give me strength,” I said.
“What is it now?”
“I’ll have to go out there again.”
“Don’t you be late for your lunch, Delly Duke, or I’ll paddle your bumcakes rosy.”
I turned back to see her smiling; as full of mischief as Mary the goat.
“I’ll make sure it’s stone cold before I return.”
Demonhood
In the field, merriment had turned to bitterness.
There was a very obvious split between two factions. In the smaller faction there was Blini Rickett and Puff Wiggery. In the other faction was the rest of the village. Between them, using only his body odour as a weapon, was Leopold Prattle. By the time I arrived at the scene, it looked as though a lynching might not be far away.
I asked one of the villagers, a barrel maker who lived near the church, what was going on.
“Those two fatherless muckits say the dragon belongs to them because it fell in their field. They’ve no right to it. No right, says I.”
But Jack Cooper, the one I’d asked, was wrong. I knew the law about property and ownership and it was clear. I ran to the front of the mob where things were starting to turn nasty. Puff Wiggery had bleeding scratches on his face where a woman’s nails had raked him. Even Prattle was beginning to look frightened in case they lumped him in with the other two.
I raised my hands. I’ve got a loud voice when I feel like using it and it’s a good thing otherwise events might have transpired very differently.
“ENOUGH OR I’LL SUMMON THE MILITIA.”
That caught the attention of a few of them and some of the fire went out of the mob. The shouting died down and people stopped pushing towards the two frightened farmers. I kept my hands in the air and after a few more moments the crowd was quiet enough that I could speak normally.
“Anyone who harms these men will hang. You all know it. The law says an animal found dead on your land belongs to you. And anyone who tries to take the demon away will be flogged.”
“It’s a dragon,” shouted one of the villagers. There were cries of hungry agreement from all around. Why anyone thought a dragon was more edible than a demon I couldn’t fathom.
“Whatever it turns out to be, the law says it’s theirs. Now who wants me to ring the bell for the militia?”
No one moved or spoke.
“Please, if you think you have the right to take away the lawful property of Farmer Rickett and Farmer Wiggery put your hand up and state your case. The militia can come and settle it.”
The silence expanded. No one wanted to go up against the law, especially not militia law. I turned to the two farmers who looked pleased with themselves. I think it was the first matter they’d ever agreed on.
“Now what are you two planning to do with this thing?”
“We’re going to cut it up and sell it,” said Rickett
The crowd erupted in angry jeers and insults. Someone threw a stone and it hit him in the throat. He put his hands to his neck, choking.
“If I find out who threw that, I’ll ride out and report you myself,” I shouted.
“Reasonable prices of course,” said Wiggery, “We’ll be almost giving it away.”
More shouts and curses flew.
“Just calm down, everyone,” I said. “Now listen. These two men have lost an entire field of crops because of this. I proffer they give half of the demon to the village, and keep half themselves to sell as compensation. That way, you’ll still get your Feast of the Demon—”
“Dragon!”
“—whatever it is, and they might survive to plant another season.”
There were grumbles but the atmosphere was far less hostile. I whispered to Prattle.
“Help me out, priest, I’ve just prevented a bloodbath.”
Leopold Prattle looked disgusted to have to agree with me but he had no choice.
“Delly Duke is right. The Feast of the Dragon will go ahead as planned. All we have to do is divided the dem…dragon in two. Praise be to the Great Father.”
There was a muttered and unenthusiastic ‘praise be’ from the crowd. By now they were tired and overheating. A few of the women had fainted because of the sun and the stench of the demon. In weather like this the cadaver was likely to be flyblown and rotting before the day was out and Rickett and Wiggery would never sell a single cut of meat. I didn’t see any reason to point out such details.
That was when I took my first close look at the ‘bounty’ we’d been ‘blessed’ with. The crater it had made was large, a good fifteen strides across. The creature’s wingspan was about ten strides; it’s body length something
