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thing. Do you know a spell that will help a man defeat a dragon?”
     
    THE WALLS SHOOK, THE FLOOR TREMBLED, AND THE CEILING quaked. The page flung the door open but, before he could speak, László said, “Send him in.”
    A moment later, Vilmos entered, his muscles bulging within his tunic. “Greetings, brother!” he boomed, finding a chair and sitting
in it. For perhaps the thousandth time, László wondered why it never bothered him that Vilmos didn’t treat him as King, yet it had bothered him so much that Miklós hadn’t. But it was a fruitless question, and led László to dwell on things that only saddened him. If he only could apologize—
    He shook the mood from himself. “Hello, Vilmos. We have a problem.”
    “What kind of problem, László?”
    “There’s been a dragon sighted, just west of the Wandering Forest.”
    “A dragon!”
    “Yes. It hasn’t done any damage yet—”
    “It will, though!”
    “Exactly. Could you—?”
    “Let me at it, brother!”
    László breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, Vilmos. I was hoping you would respond in that way.”
    “Well, how else?”
    “Sándor is preparing something—”
    Vilmos’s snort, which had the power of a small wind storm, cut him off. “Sándor! I need nothing from wizards!”
    László felt suddenly worried. “But Vilmos, a dragon—”
    Vilmos flexed his biceps and showed his teeth. “I need no wizard’s tricks, brother. I’ll drop a rock on the dragon’s head. If that doesn’t work, I’ll strangle it. Hmmmph. Wizards.”
    László shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. “Why do you dislike Sándor so much, brother?”
    “Huh. Why shouldn’t I? I don’t trust him, that’s all.”
    “He’s done a lot for the kingdom, Vilmos.”
    “He’s done a lot for you, you mean. And our father, and his father. What’s he done for me?”
    “What’s good for the King, Vilmos—”
    “Yes, yes, I know. I still don’t trust him.”
    László sighed. “As you wish, then. But be careful.”
    “Ha!” said Vilmos. “I’ll leave in the morning.”
    He lifted his fantastic girth from the chair and made his way out the door. László, watching him duck his head under the doorway as he left, drummed his fingertips against the edge of his throne. It’s a good thing he agrees to help so much , he thought. It’s good that everyone is so willing to be helpful just to be helpful. But if Vilmos chose not to, I couldn’t make him .
    He nodded to himself. That’s why he scares me so much.
     
    IT WAS EARLY EVENING WHEN LÁSZLÓ MET BRIGITTA, THE friend of Viktor’s current lover. He took her hand, and she stepped down from the carriage, performing a graceful curtsy with the same motion. She was a short woman with bright, clear brown eyes and a finely carved face. Her hair was light brown, straight, and cut short. She wore a bright green gown of cotton that concealed her figure, but László decided that there would be little cause for complaint. What pleased him at once, however, was that she didn’t seem to be as, well, worn as he’d expected of a wench her age.
    “You are Brigitta?” he asked.
    “Yes, Your Majesty. I’m honored to be able to present myself to you.”
    “It is my pleasure,” said László. “Come. I’ll show you the Palace, and we can dine.”
    She dimpled, and curtsied again.
    As he crossed the courtyard, enjoying the gentle pressure of her arm on his, he overheard Vilmos’s booming voice crying out, “All right, you cursed wizard! I’ll take it! But by the Demon Goddess herself, if it betrays me I’ll come tie you into knots and bounce you off the walls!”
    László felt as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Thank the Goddess for Sándor! The responsibility for losing two brothers would have been almost unbearable. He exchanged a smile with Brigitta and realized with a start that an understanding, an intimacy, had already begun to develop between them.
    The world was certainly