The Ivory Dragon 11/14

Brian’s mind was in a whirl. The whole set up was far to elaborate to be some sort of tourist trap. Where he actually was remained a mystery, but the impression that everyone was behaving perfectly normally was growing by the minute. He took his cup and sipped the hot tea gratefully, then to cover his thoughts he walked over to the cabinet to look at the models.

He was immediately struck by the fact that they all appeared to be made from the same material as those at home. There was one however that seemed unusual, a model of a London bus. Now who on earth would want to make an expensive carving of something as ordinary as that?

George Manners looked over his shoulder. “I see you’re admiring my double decked bus,” he said, “Jennifer Jane tells me that they are quite common in your world and that they don’t need horses to pull them along. Can that really be true?”

“I’m sorry, do you mind if I sit down?” asked Brian. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned Miss Bell’s name and also the fact that you believe this is an alternate world to hers. You can’t be serious surely?”

“Of course I’m serious,” said the squire indignantly, “this area of our world owes a lot to Miss Bell as you call her. She’s solved all sorts of problems that we used to have. I suppose the most important was making the dragons eat coal instead of people!”

Brian laughed, “Now I know you’re pulling my leg, there are no such creatures as dragons anywhere!”

Mr. Manners went over to a long strap hanging from one of the walls and pulled. He stood beside the bell pull with a stern expression on his face as he waited and Brian began to get the feeling that he’d said something to upset his host.

After a minute’s silence the butler entered the room

“What day is it today Saunders?”

“Wednesday sir,” he replied with a rather surprised expression on his face. “It’s the day we always send a bushel of coal to the village for Tornak.”

“Thank you Saunders, will you have the carriage brought to the door, Mr Taylor and I will be going with the delivery this week. He doesn’t believe there are such animals as dragons and today would be a suitable opportunity to prove otherwise.”

Brian wasn’t sure what to say. Mr Manners returned to his chair and sat quietly watching the fire.

“I’m sorry if I’ve said something wrong sir,” said Brian, “but I really find the statements you’re making hard to believe. I do know Miss Bell, but she’s only a young girl who lives in the village with her parents and goes to school like all other children. The only odd thing I know about her is her membership of two organisations devoted to witchcraft. One of them is MAGIC, of which her next door neighbour is also a member, the other is GOW. I have been told that the first stands for Member of the Antediluvian Guild of International Covens, but have no idea of the second.”

“Grand Order of Wizardry,” said the squire getting to his feet, “they’re our local group over at the Witches’ Home! Come along, the carriage should be here by now.”

Brian was still wondering what the Witches’ Home could possibly be as they walked out of the front door. An elaborately decorated open carriage pulled by two horses was waiting at the bottom of the steps. Further down the drive, a cart was waiting with a large sack on the back.

The carriage set off, the cart following after they’d passed it. The two vehicles reached the main trackway and turned left heading slowly down hill, the drivers lightly applying the brakes to prevent them overrunning the horses. After a while they came to a level piece of ground and trotted forward at a fair pace along a street lined with small houses until they arrived at a village green.

A pub called the George and Dragons overlooked the open ground, the carriage stopping beside the door, while the cart went a little further. A very burly villager wearing a leather apron came over and helped the driver carry the sack to the middle of the green, then they both sat down beside it and waited as if they were looking for something.

“Come inside,” said Mr Manners, “we’ll observe events from the window. Two pints of your finest landlord,” he called as he moved over to the seat he indicated. Four of the villagers moved to another table, to let the squire and Brian sit where they wanted.

Brian didn’t say a word, he wasn’t too sure what was going to happen and he didn’t want to upset the squire any more than he had already. Every now and again Mr Manners pulled out a large pocket watch to check the time.