No Place for Magic by E. D. Baker Read Free Book Online

how hot. He smacked his lips and groaned with pleasure more than once, although he did reach for his flagon of ale to wash down each bite of the fish. We were nearly through the meal when five young couples dressed in brightly colored clothes filed into the center of the square and a musician strummed his first note. A drum and a pipe soon joined in as the couples began to dance. Having nearly eaten his fill, Eadric looked up to watch the dancers whirl past.
    "That's marvelous!" I said as a male dancer tossed his partner into the air and caught her.
    "It's a traditional folk dance," said Eadric. "Every movement, every color, every note has a special meaning."
    "So tell me, what do they mean?" I asked.
    Eadric shrugged. "Don't ask me. I never can remember all that stuff."
    "They certainly seem to like you here," I said as yet another maiden flashed him a very warm smile.
    Eadric shrugged again. "I killed a dragon for them when it came down out of the mountains to eat the farmers' cattle."
    "A dragon!" I said, horrified. We'd come to know quite a few dragons, some of whom had become very close friends.
    Eadric patted my hand. "That was before I knew how to talk to them. Before I knew any personally."
    "You wouldn't kill one now, would you?" I asked, shivering.
    "Of course not," he said, giving me a half smile. "I'd have you talk to him until he flew away."
    The dancing wasn't the only entertainment we had that night. After the young couples left the square, a score of older men and women took their places and engaged in a contest of high-pitched warbling that they said was the way mountain folk talked to their neighbors. When an older man with a barrel chest won the contest, a tiny redheaded woman came out to demonstrate local birdcalls. She started with a few songbirds, then moved on to the calls of bigger birds such as the eagle, the phoenix, and the roc, the biggest bird of all. Each time she paused to take a breath between roc screeches, we could hear horses screaming in terror just outside the town square. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who was relieved when she sat down.
    The tables had been cleared, the last of the ale poured when a maiden with silvery braids (and probably more than a little fairy blood) approached our table and flashed a smug grin at me, then gave Eadric a saucy wink. "When you were here before, Prince Eadric, we had a different sort of contest," she said. "My friends and I were wondering if you'd like to do it again."
    "Yes," called a maiden from one of the tables. "Let's have another kissing contest!"
    Eadric turned a deep red and his eyes flicked nervously toward me. "I don't think that's such a good idea," he said, and then he very pointedly gazed up at the stars. "Look at that—it's gotten very late. I think it's time we go to our tents. You wanted an early start in the morning, didn't you, Emma?"
    "Of course," I said, and then I turned to the girl leaning against the table. "Prince Eadric doesn't need a contest. He already knows who the best kisser is."
    "I do indeed," he said, sounding relieved. Taking my hand, he leaned toward me for a kiss. It wasn't long, but it was warm and tender.
    The silver-haired girl turned on her heel and flounced off to her seat while the other maidens glared at me.
    When Eadric had eaten his last bite and taken his last sip, Broadnik said, "We'll escort you to your tents. Your men have pitched them farther away from the river in a level spot nestled between the hills. We'll have to pass a bend in the river to get to it, so stay close together. It isn't safe by the river at night." Clearing his throat, he glanced at the men seated nearby before turning back to Eadric. "That's something we wanted to talk to you about, but we wanted you to have the chance to enjoy your dinner first. We've been having a problem with sea monsters the last year or so. It's why we built the wall. We were hoping you might be able to help us."
    Eadric stood and patted Ferdy, whom he rarely