“Oh, absolutely. And there are excellent reasons for you to go in there,” said Guldhogg firmly. “Absolutely, there are. I’ll explain it all later, Blivvy. Go on, now. I’ll be right here, listening. Call if you need me.”
Sir Blivet gave the dragon a last dubious look, then banged down the visor of his helmet, took his lance in his arm, and spurred forward into the trees, perhaps thinking that the sooner he could get this over with, the sooner he could get back to the companionability of an ale-cask, which required no monster-bearding as a price of friendship.
The forest was just as dire inside as it appeared from the outside, shadowed and silent, with the webs of huge but not presently visible spiders swaying in the breeze. Sir Blivet felt as if eyes were watching him at every step, and he had just about decided that he was going to return to the camp and declare the she-beast unfindable when someone called him.
“Sir Knight?”
He turned, his stomach suddenly sour with unease. A robed figure stepped from the shadows and out onto the deer track his horse had been following. “Who are you?” he asked, trying to remember the boldly fearless tone he had been able to summon easily in his younger days, before he knew any better. “Are you in need of assistance?”
“I could be,” the stranger said. “Are you Sir Guldhogg?”
“Sir Gul…” Blivet shook his head in confusion. “No. Guldhogg is a friend of mine, but…” He peered at the shrouded figure, but it was hard to make out much of the face in the hood. “I am in fact Sir Blivet, semi-fabled dragonslayer. Who are you?”
“I am the She-Creature of Haunted Forest.” The newcomer threw back her hood, revealing herself to be a quite attractive short-haired woman of mature years, slender of neck and discerning of eye.
“You are the she-creature?”
“Well, I’m really more of a witch.” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “But when I first moved here several years ago, I spread the rumor of a dangerous and deadly beast in these woods so that I would be left alone. People have a tendency to get obsessed with witches, and before you know it they’re looking you over for third nipples and hunting for kindling—you know what I mean. But I’m afraid I did the job a bit too well.” She shrugged and indicated the dark forest. “Everybody moved out. Even the people in the nearby towns all migrated in fear. So here I am.”
“So here you are.” Blivet knew it wasn’t the most sensible thing to say, but he was a bit taken aback by the unexpected fairness of the she-creature’s face, and her modest but sensible speech. “But why, exactly?”
“Because I live here.” She gave him a look that suggested she did not think highly of his intellect.
“No, I mean, why am I here?” Blivet was beginning to wish he’d waited until later in the day before starting on the ale. “No, that’s not right either. What I mean is, why did you and…and Sir Guldhogg arrange this meeting?”
“Ah. Fair question.” She smiled. “Who do you think a witch’s customers are, Sir Blivet? People. You want them to fear you, to be impressed by you, but you don’t want them to actually leave, because then who is one going to make love potions for? Whose sick calves and sick babies is one going to cure? For whom is one going to tell the future with cartomancy or tea leaves?”
“Ah, I see what you mean about that, I suppose. But this meeting…”
“Guldhogg opened the negotiations by raven. A good idea, since the local lord abandoned the place along with the peasants and the forest-folk, which means I haven’t been getting a lot of mail in the old way.”
“Oh, I see,” said Blivet, who was now convinced he didn’t see anything at all. “Opened negotiations.”
“Mr. Hogg told me that you and he and the rest of your…guild? Organization? Anyway, that your lot had been offered a tidy sum of money to come and dispatch the She-Creature of Haunted Forest, and that he felt honor-bound to let me know you were on your way. So I wrote back to him and offered him a business proposition, instead.”
Ah. Now it all made a bit more sense, Blivet decided. “Business. Yes. So, have you a lot of gold?”
She laughed again. Blivet couldn’t help noticing she was actually rather pretty—in a serious, mature sort of way—and even prettier when she was amused. “Ye gods, no!” said the witch. “I haven’t a ha’penny. How would I, with all of my customers gone to Rutland County and points south? No, I haven’t got any money at all. Walk with me now, and let’s talk about this.”
Blivet dismounted, although he couldn’t quite see the sense of it. Still, he found himself willing to spend more time in the company of this attractive woman. She had a personality that wasn’t what he would have expected from a witch. “But if you haven’t any money, what are we going to talk about? I mean, business-wise?”
Now it was her turn to shake her head. “Silly man. As if gold was the only valuable thing in the world. My name is Hecate, by the way. Named after the goddess.”