The Last Protector (4 page)

"None at all."

"So we could all get eaten by a dragon or something.” Despite the morning's pleasant warmth, she shivered.

Scrornuck opened one eye. “You're afraid of dragons? I thought this town worships the big lizard."

"That's disrespectful,” she snapped. “Almost blasphemous. There are people in this town who'd throw you in jail for a remark like that.” She shot Scrornuck a look that suggested he must be the dumbest man on earth. “Everybody knows Spafu is the only
friendly
dragon! The others would just as soon eat you alive."

"Mister Saughblade doesn't know that,” Jape said smoothly, “which is why we need you as a guide. We'd like to stay out of trouble as much as we can.” He looked pointedly at Scrornuck. “Isn't that right?"

Scrornuck grunted noncommittally.

"As for unfriendly dragons,” Jape continued, “that's why I travel with a Protector. He can take care of anything we might encounter."

Nalia looked dubiously at Scrornuck lounging in his chair, half-asleep, with at least two beers in his belly. “I'm not sure he can take care of much."

Jape lobbed a breadstick in Nalia's direction. There was a blur of movement, and suddenly Scrornuck was standing, holding a large knife upon which the breadstick was neatly skewered. “Mister Saughblade is full of surprises,” Jape said. “Do we have a deal?"

"Probably,” she said. “I don't believe for one second that I can read minds. But I can pretend I do—if the price is right."

"I'll offer five silver pieces a day."

She glanced at Scrornuck, who surreptitiously held up three fingers. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Three gold pieces a day, in advance, plus you provide all food and lodging. Deal?"

Jape looked at Nalia, then at Scrornuck, and again at Nalia. Then, with a slight sigh, he reached into his purse. “You drive a hard bargain."

"I get good advice."

"That you do,” Jape said, handing Nalia her nine gold pieces. He left a moderately generous tip, and the three headed for the door.

"The whole world's here!” Scrornuck exclaimed as he stepped through the Guest Gate. The crowd filling Temple Square seemed to have come from everywhere—he saw people in long, loose desert robes, Elizabethan-style tights and ruffled shirts, crisp, modern military uniforms, buckskin and beads, and more. The people themselves were as varied as their dress—while most appeared to be Native American, the crowd included at least a few people from every land on Earth.

Trumpets blared, and a row of young men and women carrying tall poles topped by silver treble clefs and images of Spafu stepped smartly into the Square. Marching bands followed, and behind them came gaily attired dancers, flag-wavers, tumblers, and teams of people singing merrily as they pulled elaborate floats. The floats’ ornately costumed passengers threw strings of beads, coins and other baubles to the spectators, and children ran about, weaving and ducking between the adults as they fought mock battles over the trinkets. One child stopped and stared up at Scrornuck with unabashed curiosity for several seconds before giving a shy half-wave and disappearing into the crowd.

A large copper coin sailed over Scrornuck's head, and he instinctively leaped to catch it. “Three free drinks!” he boasted, slipping the coin into his sporran. Nalia won the battle to catch a gaudy string of beads, and with a laugh she placed them around Scrornuck's neck.

The parade's final and most spectacular float was festooned with images of the Friendly Dragon. Its sole passenger was a short, rather pudgy man, resplendent in garish red robes and a turban topped with a golden likeness of Spafu. Scrornuck nudged Nalia. “Who's that?"

"You don't know? That's Rosaiah, the High Priest!” She looked at him as if he'd just asked the world's dumbest question.

The float stopped before the balcony of City Hall, where the Mayor of Taupeaquaah swayed unsteadily. Two Guards supported him: on his right, her arm firmly linked with his, a crisply white-uniformed woman with short blonde hair, and on his left, a bored-looking young man whom Scrornuck instantly recognized. “Hey, isn't that your special friend up there?"

"Yeah,” Nalia said. “I guess he wasn't lying when he said he's a big shot."

As the float resumed its movement, the Mayor disappeared behind the balcony's rail, apparently being sick. Scrornuck chuckled. “Looks like he had too much fun last night."

"The Saturday night before the Sacrifice is a big blowout for the whole town,” she said. “The Mayor's expected to show leadership."

The High Priest's float came to a graceful halt before the Temple. A horde of muscular young men wearing little more than loincloths quickly extended a gangplank and stood at attention as the Priest sashayed down to the building's grand, curving porch. “Where'd they find these guys?” Scrornuck asked, feeling a little envious.

"There's a big Pageant,” Nalia said, keeping her eyes on the men. “We pick the best-looking guys in town to be Acolytes. I once dated a guy who got picked—he spent eight hours a day working out, and a couple days before the Pageant he waxed off all his body hair.” She licked her lips. “What a hunk of meat."

"Um.” Scrornuck now felt more than a little envious. “Do they have women Acolytes too?"

She nodded. “Spring and fall."

"And do the women dress like that?"

"Of course.” Her look made Scrornuck feel like he was setting the world record for stupid questions. “Why else would we pick the girls with the biggest..."

"We get the idea.” Jape said.

Scrornuck grinned. “We need to come back in the fall."

The parade disbanded, the floats heading into the short street as the performers mingled with the crowds. Trumpets sounded, and everyone turned to face the Temple as flames and smoke suddenly belched from the mouth and nostrils of the great dragon statue. “Bloody hell,” Scrornuck muttered, noticing for the first time the mountains of sacrificial merchandise beneath the dragon's outstretched wings.

Rosaiah walked grandly to the High Altar at the Temple's gate, where he reverently removed his sandals and set them atop the altar. A moment later, flames roared forth, consuming them.

The crowd went wild as the Sacrifice got underway. In seconds the many altars around the Square were ablaze. The Acolytes, soaked in sweat and streaked with soot and ashes, carried armloads of clothing, furniture and footwear to the fires, while the faithful threw more and more offerings onto the piles.

Jape shook his head in amazement as he stared at the spectacle. Scrornuck was less impressed. “Let's get out of here,” he muttered, striding purposefully toward the Cast Quarter.

"You!"
the High Priest roared as they passed beneath the dragon's flaming mouth. Rosaiah stretched out his arm and pointed at Scrornuck's boots—knee-high dark leather, trimmed with fringe and encrusted with silvery bits that seemed to move as he walked. “That is the finest footwear ever seen in Taupeaquaah! An offering worthy of the High Altar!"

"Not bloody likely,” Scrornuck muttered. He pointedly turned his back on the Priest and kept walking.

"Did you not hear?” Rosaiah demanded. “I grant you the honor of making your sacrifice on the High Altar!"

With the crowd blocking their path, the three had no choice but to face the Priest. Jape attempted to intercede. “We are guests in Taupeaquaah,” he said, stressing the word
guest.
“We aren't familiar with your traditions."

"And the mighty Dragon has brought you here to learn! Now come up and make your offering!"

"Forget it, turban-boy!” Scrornuck shouted. “Your pet lizard can buy his own shoes!"

Rosaiah staggered back as if punched in the belly. “Blasphemer!” he bellowed.

"Idolater?” Scrornuck suggested.

"You cannot keep from the Dragon what is rightfully his!"

The crowd closed in around Scrornuck, Jape and Nalia, and more than a few Mayoral Guards moved in their direction. Almost unconsciously, Scrornuck pulled the sword-grip from his belt and gave it a firm squeeze. The sparkling, glass-like blade appeared, nearly five feet long and pointed directly at the Priest. “You want my boots? Well, come and get ‘em!"

Scrornuck and Rosaiah stared, unblinking, into each other's eyes for several tense seconds. Finally, the priest turned away, sneering, “Go! You are not yet worthy to offer your gift to the Friendly Dragon! But know this: you will suffer for your arrogance. You will be humbled. You will find out what it means to offend the great Spafu. And before this Fortnight of Sacrifice is out, you will return to this altar and present your offering!"

"In your dreams, Rosey,” Scrornuck shouted as he led the group away. “In your dreams!"

"Mister Saughblade,” Jape said, as they left the Square and entered the narrow, twisting streets of the Cast Quarter, “can't you go even twenty-four hours without picking a fight?"

Scrornuck shrugged. “He started it."

"You didn't have to pull a weapon,” Nalia said. “Nobody was going to hurt you."

"Could've fooled me,” Scrornuck said.

"See this?” She pointed to the blue paper tag dangling from a buckle on his jacket. Jape wore a similar tag, clipped to his cape. “We don't harm guests."

"I thought it was a lift ticket.” Scrornuck inspected the tag, which bore the word “GUEST” and a number. “So, if I'd been wearing this last night, those guys wouldn't have thrown a punch at me?"

She rolled her eyes skyward.
"They
were Mayoral Guards. Even off-duty,
they're
allowed to strike a guest.” Her tone implied this should explain everything. It didn't, but he suspected that asking more questions wouldn't, either.

Although Taupeaquaah stood on a flat plain, the streets of the Cast Quarter constantly rose and fell, providing a fine place from which to watch the duel that had suddenly erupted on a street corner. A man and a woman, neither much over seventeen, stood in the center of the intersection, swords raised, as a crowd gathered. With great formality, the woman removed a ring from her left hand, dropped it on the pavement and stepped on it.

Jape leaned against a lamppost to watch. “What's going on?"

"Broken engagement,” Nalia said. “She had his ring on her left hand, and he's still wearing her Residence Pass around his neck..."

"What's a Residence Pass?"

Rolling her eyes in a way that suggested she was earning those three gold pieces, she held up the small bronze token hanging from a chain around her neck. “Here's mine—it's the key to my apartment in the Cast Quarter. My parents bought it for me when I finished school. He gave her the ring when they got engaged, she gave him her Pass as a symbol of the life they'd share. Now that they're breaking up she wants it back, and he doesn't want to return it."

The duel began with a series of thrusts and parries that struck Scrornuck as rather ceremonial. “They're not exactly out for blood, are they?” he said. “She could have taken his head off if she wanted to."

"That'd be uncivilized!” Nalia said indignantly. “They're just settling a disagreement."

The woman spun around and put a foot in the man's stomach. As he staggered back she grazed his cheek with the tip of her sword, just enough to draw blood. Then, the matter apparently settled, both lowered their weapons and bowed. He handed her the Residence Pass, picked up the flattened ring, and walked away while the onlookers applauded.

Scrornuck scratched his head and stared. “That's it?"

"She drew blood, she got her Pass back, the engagement is over."

First blood ends the duel? Scrornuck thought, and exploded in laughter. “I'm gonna love this place!"

Nalia giggled and Jape did his best to ignore Scrornuck as he sang:

Here we come a-waddling, all through the grocery store,

Up and down the aisles, load the shopping cart with more!

Pretzels, munchies, chips and beer,

Will give you a giant rear,

And you'll be on a starvation diet all next year!

Lay off the beer if you don't want a giant rear!

They were, in fact, pushing a small cart through the aisles of the
If We Don't Have It, You Don't Need It Convenience Emporium,
loading it up with such necessities as a skin of wine, a six-pack each of light lager and Batatat's Stout, generous hunks of meat, cheese and bread, and various snacks. When it seemed the cart would hold no more, Jape paid from his seemingly inexhaustible purse, and they wheeled their load into the street.

Nalia stopped at a small nook in the outer wall of the store and inserted her Residence Pass into a slot. Two gold pieces and a few silver coins dropped into her waiting hand.

She noticed Jape watching her with a curious expression. “It's payday,” she said. “Everybody with a Pass gets this allowance once a week. You can live on it, but if you want to enjoy much of life you still need a job."

"This is your allowance for a full week?” Jape inspected her handful of money. “And I'm paying you three gold pieces a day?"

She nodded. “I got some good advice."

Jape glanced pointedly at Scrornuck, who looked back with an innocent expression. “I guess you did."

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They pushed their shopping cart through the West Gate, out of the City and into a spacious plaza paved in multicolored granite. A few Cast members moved about, trimming the bushes and picking up bits of dried leaves and litter. Just off the center of the plaza, a Guard in formal dress uniform stood at attention, next to a pedestal supporting a large, ornate horn.

"Looks like he's waiting for something,” Jape said as they passed the Guard. “Sunrise? Noon?"

Nalia again flashed Jape a look that suggested she was working hard for her three gold pieces. “He's waiting for the Guests to arrive."

"Then blow your horn, Gabriel, we're here!” Scrornuck said, wagging his little “GUEST” tag at the Guard.

Nalia sighed. “The horn announces the Coming of the True Guests. He's not going to sound it for you."

Scrornuck wondered what a True Guest was, but Nalia's tone of voice—and an elbow in the ribs from Jape—convinced him to shut up.