“We can use the oxen to pull it out and onto the wagons.”
Ysabeau nodded, wondering if even that many oxen would be enough to hoist the dragon and the cage. They might need magical assistance. Unfortunately, while she could leave the cave illusion to its own devices for short periods, she could not afford to neglect it for long, nor could she divert much of her focus or energy from it.
She wondered if Hangdog might be able to help with the heavy lifting. The last thing she needed was for a line or pole to break, and dump the caged dragon back to the chamber floor. So much could go wrong and everything hinged on the beast remaining asleep. It was a pretty precarious task, but the rewards would be huge. It was unthinkable, to possess a living dragon. The prestige it would bring …
The first challenge was to work out how to get the dragon onto the bottom piece of cage, or it underneath the dragon. This was the part of the process she reckoned presented the greatest danger. If it was going to wake, this was when it would happen, and what creature liked waking up to find it was being stuffed into a cage?
“Bind its snout,” she said, not sure why the thought hadn’t occurred to her earlier. She was certain it could do plenty of damage with its horns, claws, and barbed tail, but it was the thought of being eaten, or having parts of her body bitten off, that inspired the greatest terror in her.
She waited, and waited, but no one stepped forward to do as she ordered. “Bloody cowards,” she muttered, then picked up a coil of rope the village labourers had brought in. She looked at the three-strand rope—simple hempen fibres—and wondered if it could possibly be strong enough to keep the beast’s jaws locked shut. Still, it was the smart thing to do, no matter how close to danger it put her.
She looped the rope over the top of the dragon’s snout, then tried to shimmy it underneath. With each gentle tug, her heart jumped into her throat, but the beast remained asleep, no more disturbed than it had been when she had tapped its snout. Satisfied with its position, she tied it off, then repeated the process until there were six wraps. That done, she stepped back and gave all the men who had been too afraid to do the job a filthy look before topping up the cave illusion. Each refresh required less time and energy, but she was tired. More tired than she was willing to admit.
“Now,” she said, “how are we going to get it onto the bottom section of cage?”
“We could roll it on,” one of the villagers said.
“Roll it?” she said. “You were all just too afraid to put a rope around its snout, and now you want to roll it?”
“Its teeth are tied up now,” he said.
He obviously hasn’t paid much attention to the claws, she thought. “Anyone else have any other suggestions?” It didn’t strike her as the ideal solution, but she couldn’t come up with anything herself. If it hadn’t woken up so far, maybe they’d get away with it.
“Get the top, bottom, and three sides of the cage assembled beside the creature,” she said. “Leave one of the long sides open. Actually, attach it at the top. Someone can climb up there and hold it open until we get the dragon inside, then drop it down so the others can secure it fast.”
She gestured for Tresonne and Hangdog to join her.
“I can’t think of a better way to do it, can either of you?”
Hangdog shook his head.
“No,” Tresonne said. “Trying to rig up a pulley system to lift it would be difficult. This is probably the best way.”
“There’s a good chance we’ll wake it up,” Ysabeau said. “I’m not having this mission fail. Gather up the academics as quietly as you can and move them to the entrance chamber. At the first sign of trouble, get them and their work back to Mirabay as fast as you can. After we get the creature caged, we can send them back down to finish up while we’re getting it loaded for transport.”
“Do you really think it’ll stay asleep?” Hangdog said.
She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, but if we return to Mirabay without it, we’ll be back here by the end of the week to fetch it. Mark my words. Better we do it now and surprise the Prince Bishop. He can be very generous when he’s pleased with you. If we can pull this off, the reward will be immense—for all of us. I can promise you that much. Let’s get to it.”
The villagers had nearly completed the construction of the cage. Some men had begun to lay out the logs forming a track along which they could roll the cage. The fact that they’d done this suggested they thought the plan would work, which was something. She’d long since learned that when a person believes a thing will happen, they’re far more likely to make it so. She wasn’t at all sure she shared their confidence, but she knew they had to try.
It was amazing, what a little fear could do to motivate people. The workers all knew that the sooner they had the dragon in the cage, the sooner they would be able to go home to their families—and the more likely it was that they would be alive come morning. To Ysabeau, a faster finish meant she could drop her illusion sooner. She might even be able to find some space on one of the wagons where she could sleep for an hour or two on the way home. That was a very attractive thought.
She walked around the cage, giving each of the bolt clamps a cursory test. It was all for show, really—her strength, even if she enhanced it by magic, could not compare to a dragon’s. Still, she reckoned it was good for morale, and it at least confirmed that they’d all been properly fastened. As she surveyed the entire construction once more, she realised she was delaying. It was time to get on with it.
“Do we have poles we can use as levers?” she said, studying the sleeping dragon.
One of the villagers nodded and headed off, presumably to fetch them. It would be difficult work, and not only did she want to keep the dragon asleep, she didn’t want to injure it. Perhaps adding some magic to the mix might speed something up. She was about to call for Hangdog, but she’d already run him hard in the last few days and needed what energy he had left to keep the block and tackle secure. She didn’t have enough energy of her own left, not if she was to maintain the cave illusion—so it would have to be done the old-fashioned way.
The villager returned, carrying a tied bundle of staves. They looked flimsy, but she hoped the combined force of all of them would be enough. She wished she had something better to go on, as she lined the men up along the dragon’s length, each armed with a stave.
“As gently as you can,” she said.
They advanced and worked their staves in under the dragon. Realising she was standing a little too near the creature’s snout for comfort, Ysabeau took a few steps back. If it woke, she would be the first thing it saw, and possibly ate. That prospect didn’t do much for her.
The men began to put strain onto their staves. The dragon remained motionless at first. After what felt like an eternity, its body started to lean with the force, but it remained asleep. The men were red-faced and sweating, putting all their effort into the task. The dragon lifted, then toppled, and as easy as that, it was lying on its side in the cage, still soundly asleep.
There were sighs of relief all around, one of which came from Ysabeau. As soon as everyone had taken a moment to revel in the fact that the beast had not woken and killed them all, they pounced on the cage, closed the open side, and fastened the remaining bolt clamps.
Ysabeau did her best to look calm and collected, when all she wanted to do was let out a cheer of joy. They’d done it. They’d actually done it. Now all they had to do was get the beast out of there and back to the city, but the hard part was done.