A Wizard Wheeze

A WIZARD WHEEZE

It had been raining all day. Sir Eustace Curdylion, Black Knight and
famous dragon-slayer, sat hunched in the saddle while his trusty
charger, Mompyns, sank up to the fetlocks in mud with every step. Water
seeped between the joints of his armour and tricked down his spine. He
was sure he had a cold coming on.

No more than seven leagues to the next village, that peasant hoeing
turnips had said.
He must have gone more than twice that. Either the peasant had no idea
of distance or he had taken the wrong turning.

He looked up as Snowdrop the dragon swooped out of the sky and splashed
down in a puddle.

"Sorry."

Eustace wiped the mud from his helmet. "Any luck?"

"No sign of a village. I told you we should have turned left at the
blasted oak."

"Damn!" said Eustace. "We may as well make camp here. I've had enough
for today."

"Umm," said Snowdrop, "actually I did see something a mile or two up
the road. Some sort of castle."

"A castle? But that's brilliant, why didn't you say so before?" Eustace
cheered up immediately.

Snowdrop said nothing.

"Why, what's the matter with it?"

"Nothing, really," said Snowdrop. "Just a bit of an atmosphere."

"Drains probably," said Eustace. "It'll take more than a bad smell to
put me off, weather like this. Come on."

Though when they reached the castle Eustace had to agree that there was
something about the place. Maybe it was the mouldering skulls on the
railings, or the green light which flickered from a turret window, or
the way the lion's head door-knocker showed its teeth and snarled as
they approached the door.

"Let's try round the back," he said.

The backyard seemed normal enough, if unnaturally clean and tidy. As he
passed the pigsty Eustace noticed that the pigs had all been freshly
bathed. The door was unlatched and swung inwards as he approached,
spilling golden light.

"Don't walk on the floor!" screeched a voice from inside. A small plump
woman appeared on the threshold. "And who might you be?" she
asked.

"A poor benighted traveller seeking shelter," said Sir Eustace.

"We don't do B&;B." She started to shut the door.

"Hang on," said Sir Eustace plaintively. "What about the sacred laws of
hospitality and all that? And it's a foul night."

"Hmph. Take that coal scuttle off then, I want to see what you look
like."

Eustace removed his helmet and bowed low. "I am Sir Eustace Curdylion,
madam. Might I enquire -?"

"This is the residence of the wizard Wormfinger. I am Mrs
Wizard."

The woman inspected him carefully while the rain drummed on his bald
head and dripped off his moustache.

"I suppose you look harmless enough. Put your horse in the stable, and
take your armour off before you come in, I don't want you dripping all
over the floor."

A few minutes later Eustace presented himself at the door again,
Snowdrop peering over his shoulder. At the sight of him the woman's
expression froze.

"Sorry. No pets."

"He's not a pet, he's a dragon!"

"No pet dragons, then. I have a strict rule here, No animals in the
house. Dogs and dragons belong in the yard."

"You go on," said Snowdrop, "Don't mind me. What's a bit of rain to a
dragon? We're used to hardship."

Eustace hated when Snowdrop went all noble and martyred, he knew he
would pay for it later. On the other hand, he could feel the warmth
flowing out of the kitchen, accompanied by a delicious cooking smell.
He hesitated. The cooking won.

It felt glorious to be out of the wind and rain. Eustace took a step
towards the fire which blazed in an immense fireplace at the end of the
room.

"Don't walk on the floor," snapped Mrs Wizard.

Eustace halted. On what, then? The ceiling?

"Step on the parchment. Men! Don't care what they bring in on their
boots."

He looked down and saw sheets sheets of parchment laid out like
stepping stones across the floor. Many were covered in strange writing
and arcane symbols, and as he cautiously set his feet on them they
crackled and gave off puffs of smoke.

"Are you sure . . . "

"Oh, they're not important, just wizard stuff. Now, if you'd just like
to wash your hands, the scullery's through there, then I would be
obliged if you would pop up to the wizard's den, third turret on your
left, and tell him his dinner's ready."

The wizard turn out to be a small, mild , bespectacled man man with a
nervous smile. Dinner was taken in the castle dining room at a long
table, with the wizard at one end, Mrs Wizard at the other, and Sir
Eustace in the middle. It made conversation difficult, but then
conversation was hardly necessary, beyond the occasional grunt and nod
of the head. Mrs Wizard had Views.

She had Views on everything - the iniquities of the government, the
improvidence of the peasantry, the shrinking supply of virgins in the
inner city - but most of all she had Views about the wizard.

"It's not that I don't hold with magic," she confided over the pudding,
"very useful, I'm sure, in it's place, and a man should have a hobby.
In fact when Mr Wizard retired from the haberdashery business I
encouraged him to take something up, but I must say I had something
quieter in mind, stamp collecting maybe, or tropical fish, something
which would not annoy the neighbours. We used to live in town, but
after the Unpleasantness we bought this place, so Mr Wizard could do
his experiments without interference. I try to keep it nice, I have a
boggart comes in to do the heavy cleaning, but you know what boggarts
are like, so unreliable . . . "

Sir Eustace kept his head down and concentrated on his food. At least
it was a very good dinner. He felt a bit guilty about Snowdrop, outside
in the rain, and when he judged Mrs Wizard had mellowed a little he
brought the matter up again.

"I quite understand he can't come in the house, but maybe the stable -
"

"The stable!" snorted Mrs Wizard. "Certainly not. Think of the fire
risk."

"You have a dragon?" squeaked the wizard. "How exciting! My dear, we
can't leave the poor thing out in the rain, it might catch its
death."

"Oh, very well," said Mrs Wizard, "you can put him in the coal-shed.
And I'll give you some scraps to take out, after you've done the
washing-up."

As Sir Eustace was helping the wizard wash the dishes Wormfinger sidled
up to him when Mrs Wizard was not looking and whispered, "I think we
can do better than the coal-shed. Tell your dragon to fly up to my
window when he's had his supper."

A little latter Sir Eustace was comfortably ensconced by the fire in
the wizard's den, when there came a scratching noise at the window.
Wormfinger opened it and Snowdrop peered through.

"I'm here," he said, "But how do I get in?"

"No problem," said the wizard. He unscrewed a small jar, tipped a small
amount of the powder it contained into the lid. then blew it over
Snowdrop. There was a startled squawk, a soft implosion of air, and the
dragon flapped into the room, now no bigger than a pigeon.

"Shrinking powder!" gasped Sir Eustace. "But isn't that an illegal
substance?"

The wizard looked uncomfortable. "I have a licence for small
quantities. For experimental purposes."

Eustace and the dragon spent a pleasant evening in the wizard's den
before retiring to sleep, Eustace in a nearby turret and the dragon in
the wizard's den, that being the only room in the castle safe from Mrs
Wizard's cleaning mania. After breakfast next morning Eustace went up
to say goodbye to the wizard and collect Snowdrop. He found the dragon
sitting under a glass jar on the wizard's desk. As soon as he saw
Eustace he jumped up, beating his wings against the glass.

"Hey! What have you done to him?"

"I'm sorry if it causes you inconvenience," said the wizard, "but the
dragon stays here."

"But you can't do that!"

"I think you will find I can. My dear chap, have you any idea how
valuable a dragon is? Every portion of his anatomy forms some magical
ingredient or other."

"Hang on, you're not cutting up Snowdrop for your potions . . . I say,
what a marvellous idea." Eustace blinked. "Why did I say that?"

"I've just put an Agreeable Spell on you. From now on you will agree
with everything I say."

That's nice. Can I ask a question?"

"Of course. The spell doesn't stop you asking, but you have to agree
with the answer."

"What do you want him for?"

The wizard's eyes gleamed behind his spectacles. "I shall become
all-powerful! I shall conquer the world!"

"Oh. Excuse me for mentioning it, but you don't strike me as the
world-conquering type," said Sir Eustace.

"Oh, it's not for me," said the wizard. "It's for Mrs Wizard. I've felt
very guilty about taking her away from all her friends in town. She
used to lead such a full life, with he coffee mornings and sewing
circles, and she was on all the committees, the Anti-Poltergeist
League, the Society for the Relief of Indigent Witches, the SPCM -
"

"Pardon?"

"Prevention of Cruelty to Monsters. Now all she has to look after is
me, and frankly it gets very wearing. Running the world will give her
something to do, and I might get some peace. And the world will
benefit, she's very good at that sort of thing."

"Definitely," agreed Eustace, inwardly shuddering.

"So you'd better be off, then. You've got a long way to go."

"Yes. Right," said Eustace.

As he descended the stairs he met Mrs Wizard wielding a broom.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he said.

"You're welcome. It was nice to have a bit of company for once. I hope
you didn't mind too much about your dragon, but I won't have animals
inside, I can't do with the mess."

"Quite right," said Eustace. "a house is no place for a dragon, not
even in the wizard's den."

Mrs Wizard's eyes narrowed. "Did I hear you aright? He has a dragon up
there?"

"Indeed he has," agreed Eustace.

"We'll see about that!"

Eustace followed at a safe distance as she stormed up the stairs and
flung open the wizard's door.

"How could you," she cried. "You promised! After all the trouble we had
with that basilisk, you told me never again."

A sweep of her broom handle sent the glass jar to the floor. Snowdrop
was up and out of the window as if he had discovered jet propulsion.
The wizard cowered in the corner.

"But my precious, it was all for you - "

"A likely tale!"

Eustace made his way quietly down the stairs and let himself out of the
back door. As he led his horse from the stable he heard a crash and a
howl from the turret above. A voice shrieked, "Rule the world! As if I
don't have enough to do!"

Snowdrop flew down and perched on the saddlebow.

"Well, we seem to have got out of that one all right," he said.

"More than all right," said Eustace smugly. He held up the jar of
Shrinking Powder, before stowing it in the saddlebag . "Never know when
something might come in useful."

The dragon stared. "You'd better not get caught with that stuff, or
it's ten years in the galleys. For both of us."

"I don't intend to get caught."

The effects of the Shrinking Powder wore off in a couple of days. The
Agreeable Spell unfortunately took a little longer.

"I think," said Snowdrop, "that after my harrowing experience, and
bearing in mind that I've been living on mice for two days and I'm
starving, you own me a really slap-up meal. A fat pig, maybe, or a
couple of sheep. In fact, I think I could manage an ox."

Sir Eustace gritted his teeth. "I quite agree," he said.