"The problem, as I see it, is the lure. We need to attract them to the region, without sacrificing any of our own personnel."
"No problem at all!" Dor said excitedly. "Do you have a catapult?"
"I do. However, harpies will not pursue flying rocks."
"They just might-after I've spelled those rocks. Let me talk to the ammunition."
"There is a unit on the north wall. Where I had thought to place you anyway."
"What, is something going right?" Dor asked, smiling.
"This is a complexly developing situation. Murphy cannot cover every detail of every contingency. His talent, like mine, is being stretched to its utmost. We shall soon know who is ultimately the more powerful Magician."
"Yes, I guess so. And we have several Magicians on our side."
"However, a single bad foul-up could foil all our efforts. In that sense, Murphy can match any number of Magicians."
"I'd better get to that catapult. Do we have the location of the harpy forces?"
"The centaurs are conversant. They have no love for harpies or for goblins, and their senses are keen." The King turned. "I will send a message to the Zombie Master, asking him to move forward as soon as the harpies appear."
Dor hurried to the north wall. Incomplete as it was, it was still far more substantial than the walls of the Zombie Master's castle. It was hard to imagine little goblins successfully storming such a massive rampart, especially when they were actually fighting harpies. Narrow stairs led around and up through the interior of the wall, until they debouched on the level upper ramp.
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-"