that?”
“Not particularly.”
“Alright then, stand back.” She began to sail the muddy sack in circles above her head, bits of mud decorating her hair and spattering her face, arms, clothing and companions as well as the inanimate environment in the immediate vicinity. Colin ducked and Ching took shelter behind a tree. When it seemed to her the proper impetus was reached, she let fly with the bag. It landed, splashing an upwardly exploding fountain of water a short distance from the dragon-inhabited tree.
Hauling the sopping bag back again, she inspected the rope and then the bag itself. The rope was braided for utility in a fashion that minimized its tendency to shrink. The bag was not in a condition ever to hold clothing again. By the time she finished her inspection, Maggie’s hands were so slippery with mud she had to wash them off in the river before resuming her sack-whirling stance. She let fly, and this time the bag snaked its way into the appropriate tree, and its weight wrapped it twice around a branch. Maggie leaned back on the rope, testing it with her entire weight. Satisfied, she took the end and tied it securely around the trunk of another tree.
She wiped her still far-from-immaculate hands on her skirt, and glared triumphantly at the minstrel, who had arranged himself in a nonchalant position against a tree that lent itself to lounging. Applauding slowly, he complimented her feat with mock graciousness. “Very ingenious, Mistress Brown. And nobly done. Nobly done, indeed. Now the only problem that remains, I suppose, is for person or persons unkown (unless, of course, and I can’t discount the possibility, you mean for that very remarkable cat of yours to do it) to surrender his or herself to the doubtfully enormous strength of your oversized poultry basket, haul themselves across that charming laundry line you’ve so cleverly employed, and reach the tree, where the dragon trapped therein will meekly cooperate in having its appendages broken and its wings mangled while its benefactor frees it, after which it will follow us all over Argonia in unending and everlasting gratitude. Providing, of course, one doesn’t overbalance that silly-looking boat, providing, too, that the clothesline doesn’t work its way loose from its moorings, and providing the dragon doesn’t immediately roast one well done before it learns of one’s beneficent intentions, just in case it’s interested in them.”
It was Maggie’s turn to applaud. “From your pretty words, minstrel, I gather you appreciate the possible difficulties of my scheme. However, I would like to point out that those things may just as well NOT go wrong, and, as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“Whereas if I should venture in this case, I might stand to gain a charring?”
“As I was saying before you gave me the benefit of your immense wisdom, I do intend to get across this river and to the other shore, and I don’t intend to go the whole width by means of rope and basket. So if dragons frighten you, my faint-hearted friend, I suggest you stand back.”
“I still don’t see how you propose that that dragon will be of any benefit to us once you acquire it.”
“Once you have helped me rescue her, she will fly us across the river, naturally.”
“Oh, she’s agreed to that, has she?” He raised a questioning brow to the cat, who had sauntered over from behind his tree and was sniffing without interest at the spilled contents of the packs. Looking up, he met the minstrel’s eye, flipped his tail, and stalked off. He had better things to do than talk to tree-climbing aquatic dragons or, for that matter, to so-called musicians who talked to cats.
“Maggie, I know you want to see your sister, but this is rather extreme, isn’t it? I mean, the river is dangerously flooded, and the dragon and all—” He could hardly believe she meant to go on with it, and kept waiting for her to say that of course he was right and she
“Not particularly.”
“Alright then, stand back.” She began to sail the muddy sack in circles above her head, bits of mud decorating her hair and spattering her face, arms, clothing and companions as well as the inanimate environment in the immediate vicinity. Colin ducked and Ching took shelter behind a tree. When it seemed to her the proper impetus was reached, she let fly with the bag. It landed, splashing an upwardly exploding fountain of water a short distance from the dragon-inhabited tree.
Hauling the sopping bag back again, she inspected the rope and then the bag itself. The rope was braided for utility in a fashion that minimized its tendency to shrink. The bag was not in a condition ever to hold clothing again. By the time she finished her inspection, Maggie’s hands were so slippery with mud she had to wash them off in the river before resuming her sack-whirling stance. She let fly, and this time the bag snaked its way into the appropriate tree, and its weight wrapped it twice around a branch. Maggie leaned back on the rope, testing it with her entire weight. Satisfied, she took the end and tied it securely around the trunk of another tree.
She wiped her still far-from-immaculate hands on her skirt, and glared triumphantly at the minstrel, who had arranged himself in a nonchalant position against a tree that lent itself to lounging. Applauding slowly, he complimented her feat with mock graciousness. “Very ingenious, Mistress Brown. And nobly done. Nobly done, indeed. Now the only problem that remains, I suppose, is for person or persons unkown (unless, of course, and I can’t discount the possibility, you mean for that very remarkable cat of yours to do it) to surrender his or herself to the doubtfully enormous strength of your oversized poultry basket, haul themselves across that charming laundry line you’ve so cleverly employed, and reach the tree, where the dragon trapped therein will meekly cooperate in having its appendages broken and its wings mangled while its benefactor frees it, after which it will follow us all over Argonia in unending and everlasting gratitude. Providing, of course, one doesn’t overbalance that silly-looking boat, providing, too, that the clothesline doesn’t work its way loose from its moorings, and providing the dragon doesn’t immediately roast one well done before it learns of one’s beneficent intentions, just in case it’s interested in them.”
It was Maggie’s turn to applaud. “From your pretty words, minstrel, I gather you appreciate the possible difficulties of my scheme. However, I would like to point out that those things may just as well NOT go wrong, and, as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“Whereas if I should venture in this case, I might stand to gain a charring?”
“As I was saying before you gave me the benefit of your immense wisdom, I do intend to get across this river and to the other shore, and I don’t intend to go the whole width by means of rope and basket. So if dragons frighten you, my faint-hearted friend, I suggest you stand back.”
“I still don’t see how you propose that that dragon will be of any benefit to us once you acquire it.”
“Once you have helped me rescue her, she will fly us across the river, naturally.”
“Oh, she’s agreed to that, has she?” He raised a questioning brow to the cat, who had sauntered over from behind his tree and was sniffing without interest at the spilled contents of the packs. Looking up, he met the minstrel’s eye, flipped his tail, and stalked off. He had better things to do than talk to tree-climbing aquatic dragons or, for that matter, to so-called musicians who talked to cats.
“Maggie, I know you want to see your sister, but this is rather extreme, isn’t it? I mean, the river is dangerously flooded, and the dragon and all—” He could hardly believe she meant to go on with it, and kept waiting for her to say that of course he was right and she
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