Looking the five of them over, he found the thought of marriage was not particularly unpleasant; he knew that many things were more important than beauty in the long run, but beauty certainly didn’t hurt. He wondered if there were any way he could marry a princess without killing the dragon. Might a Dwomorite princess bring enough of a dowry for two people to live on? He had never really seriously considered marrying for money as a way to survive, but it was a possibility he might want to think about. Plenty of handsome young people of both sexes did it. It was not really a career to be proud of, but it could keep him from starvation or slavery.
All the while that Elner had been explaining and Tobas had been admiring the princesses, the king had gone on talking, describing the beauties and accomplishments of each of his daughters, all were said to be skilled at needlework, which left Tobas wondering why the castle tapestries all appeared old, and each played some sort of musical instrument and sang, danced, and otherwise had achieved all the traditional accomplishments of princesses.
“...And now,” the king said when he had completed the five-woman roster, “allow me to introduce your companions in adventure. Perinan of Gellia, step forth and greet your comrades!”
A young man clad in blue finery emerged from the crowd and nodded politely.
“Perinan is a prince of Gellia, second son of good King Kelder.”
Elner whispered, “What did I tell you about younger sons?”
Tobas made no reply.
The introductions continued through a dozen princes, a few lesser nobles, three witches, a sorcerer, a theurgist priest, and several dozen miscellaneous commoners, all of them male; some did not respond until their names were repeated in their assorted native tongues, and Tobas had the distinct impression very few understood enough Ethsharitic to know what was going on. Except for the king, his daughters, four guards, and a handful of councillors, every member of the crowd that almost filled the huge room had come to slay the dragon. Tobas recalled with a smile what that sailor had said about an army being sent; he had been completely correct.
He was somewhat surprised by the assortment of magicians, though, and that there were so many without a single wizard included. In all of his experience, wizards were by far the most common variety of magician, and witches relatively scarce, not so scarce as sorcerers, but less often encountered than warlocks, priests, demonologists, and the like. He wondered if this was a peculiarity of Dwomor or perhaps of the Small Kingdoms in general, that witches should be more common.
Or perhaps witches didn’t like dragons. He dismissed the question as not worth worrying about. Given the presence of magicians, the lack of wizards seemed rather more important; he had hoped, when the first magicians were introduced, that he might somehow pick up a few spells here, but it seemed he would be frustrated.
If he had a few good spells, the right spells, he would not mind tackling the dragon himself, he thought.
But then, if he had a few good spells, he could find easier ways to earn his bread; would a princess and a hundredweight of gold tempt a competent magician? Perhaps not.
The king had completed introducing the would-be heroes by the time Tobas came to the conclusion that the typical magician would not care to take up dragon slaying; he had gone on to point out his advisors, giving their names and ranks and years of service. Tobas had thought about the situation and had reached a decision. This might be his chance to learn more wizardry.
“...And now that you all know one another,” Derneth was saying when Tobas stepped forward. He stopped. “Yes? Ah... Tolnor, was it?”
“Tobas, your Majesty: I hope I am not disturbing anything, but I felt the time had come to mention something about myself.”
“Yes?” the king said.
“Since you did not ask before, I did not care to bring it up, but I think you should know that I am a magician, a wizard.” He made a meaningless gesture in the air, hoping it looked suitably arcane.
The king looked at him for a moment. “Are you indeed?” he said at last.
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“Well, that’s very good, isn’t it? That should be very useful against the dragon.”
“I hope so, your Majesty. Ah... I have a request, however.”
“Ah. I thought you might.”
“You have introduced me here to several magicians, but no wizards. I had hoped to discuss the dragon with the local members of my Guild, to be better prepared to face it. Could this be arranged?”
“Members of your Guild? You mean wizards?”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“There are no wizards in Dwomor, so far as I know — except, of course, yourself.”
“Oh.” That put an end to that idea. He had revealed his wizardhood to no purpose, then. He had hoped to appeal to the patriotism of any local wizards, asking them to teach him new spells that he could use against the dragon. Even if they did not care to devote their own time to monster-killing, he had thought they might be willing to help him take on the dragon, perhaps for a share of the reward.
Now that he knew there were no such wizards, patriotic or otherwise, he realized that he should have waited and asked around quietly, instead of making a spectacle of himself; he sighed inwardly. He would have to think things through more carefully in the future, he told himself.
“I’m sorry, Wizard,” the king said. He cleared his throat and addressed the entire room again, delivering a speech in Dwomoritic.
Tobas and the Ethsharites waited, fidgeting, through this. Finally, when Tobas was beginning to wonder if a mistake of some sort had been made and the king had not been informed that some of the people present did not understand the language, he finished and switched to Ethsharitic, repeating what was apparently the same speech.
“Now that you have all arrived,” he said, “and you have all arrived, for the Ethsharites are the last, and now that you all know who you are, let us explain that our intention is that you should be organized into parties of five, we do not believe that one man alone would stand much chance against the dragon, be he commoner, prince, or magician. These groups will be sent out to hunt for the dragon, by whatever methods they choose; the reward will be given to whichever party finds and kills the dragon and brings back proof of the deed. We have witnesses to the monster’s depredations who will be able to identify the remains and assure that you have killed the right dragon, as there may well be others in the area who do no harm. Each surviving member of the successful party will be given, as promised, the hand of a princess in marriage, we are fortunate in having five unmarried daughters, and with her, a position of honor here in Dwomor Keep. The thousand pieces of gold, all the royal treasury can afford, will be divided amongst these happy bridegrooms as they agree amongst themselves, or, if they cannot reach a peaceful agreement, divided evenly, two hundred to a man, or for those slain by the beast in the killing, to his heirs, if known. No recompense will be made to members of any party save that which actually slays the dragon. The hunt is to begin on the first of Harvest, four days from now, though if any party of five cares to set out before that, we have no objection. These four days will give you a chance to choose your comrades and make your preparations. Some of you appear to have no weapons; the royal armorer may be able to help you. If you have any questions, speak to the royal councillors in the morning; for tonight, we have spoken enough. The sun is down, and the hour for dinner upon us; you are all guests of the castle until the hunt begins!”
That was clearly a signal, and a heavy oaken door in one of the long walls swung open almost the instant the king finished his speech. The thrilling scent of roast beef spilled into the audience chamber. As Tobas joined the mob that pushed its way through into the dining halls, he forgot all about dragons and wizardry and did not worry about them again for the remainder of the evening.