As they drew near, Mendanbar felt a faint aura of power around the house, hanging in the air like mist. He was about to mention it to Cimorene, when he heard yells and shouts of laughter coming from behind the house.
Suddenly a small blonde girl dashed around the corner and stopped short, staring. A slightly larger boy followed in hot pursuit and barely managed to stop in time to avoid a collision. The blonde child looked at him reproachfully, then turned toward the house and shrieked at the top of her voice, "Herman! Herman, there's people."
"Bah!" A deep, cross voice came carrying through the open window beside the door. "I don't want any people. Tell them to go away."
The little girl obediently turned to Cimorene. "Go away, please," she said, and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
"No, thank you," Cimorene responded. "We want to talk to your parents."
"Haven't got any," said the boy. He tilted his head to one side, as if considering, then took off for the house at a dead run. "Herman, they won't go!" he shouted as he ran. "They want parents. They-" His shouting stopped as he dove headfirst through the open window and vanished inside. One of the upstairs windows scraped open, and two older children poked their heads out. At the same time, three small heads appeared at the corner of the house, gazing timidly at Mendanbar and Cimorene.
Cimorene looked at Mendanbar and set her end of the carpet on the ground. Mendanbar put his end down, too, and stepped forward to stand beside her. The children stared at them without speaking.
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" the cross voice shouted. The front door of the house flew open and a dwarf stomped out. He was not much taller than the oldest of the children, but his long black beard and muscular arms showed plainly that he was no child. His hair looked like an upside-down black haystack. He glared angrily at Mendanbar.
"I won't do it!" the dwarf declared before either Mendanbar or Cimorene could say anything. "I don't care if it's family tradition, I don't care if you need the money, I don't care if her mother lied and now you have to convince your council, I don't care if your mother is going to turn her into a toad tomorrow if she doesn't perform. I WILL NOT DO IT AND THAT'S FINAL!"
"That's quite all right," Cimorene said. "We don't want you to. We just want-" "I know what you want," the dwarf said, hopping furiously from one foot to the other. "You want a chance to talk me into it.
Well, you won't get one, missy. You should be ashamed to even consider such a thing!"
"She isn't considering it," Mendanbar said. "We're travelers, and we've just stopped to get some directions."
The dwarf paused in midhop. Balancing on one foot, he peered suspiciously at Mendanbar. One of the children giggled. The dwarf glared in the direction of the sound, then turned back to Mendanbar.
"Directions? What sort of directions?" he asked with evident mistrust.
"Who are you, anyway?"
"I'm Princess Cimorene and this is King Mendanbar," Cimorene said, "and we're trying to get to the cave where the dragon Falgorn lives."
"Oh, you're after a dramatic rescue," the dwarf said with relief. "I suppose that's all right. But are you sure you know what you're getting into? Dragons are tough."
"No, no," Cimorene said in the exasperated tone of someone who is very tired of correcting the same mistake over and over. "I'm Chief Cook and Librarian for Kazul, the King of the Dragons, and I'm very happy with my job, and I don't want anyone to rescue me."
The dwarfs eyes narrowed. "Then why are you looking for this other dragon?"
"Because I have an urgent message for Kazul, and she's gone to visit Falgorn," Mendanbar explained.
"Huh." The dwarf hesitated, looking from Cimorene to Mendanbar.
"How do I know this isn't some sort of trick?"
"Why should we want to trick you?" Cimorene asked.
"To get me to spin straw into gold for you, you silly girl," the dwarf said. "That's why everyone comes to see me. And look at the thanks I get: children! Hundreds and hundreds of children! Bah!"
The littlest children giggled and pulled their heads back behind the corner as the dwarf spun around. The blonde girl stared solemnly at him for a moment, then took her thumb out of her mouth, ran forward, and gave the dwarf an enormous hug.
"Thank you, Herman," she told the dumbfounded dwarf. She hugged him again and skipped off, apparently tired of listening.
The dwarf smiled foolishly after her. The expression made him look pleasant and almost handsome. After a moment, the dwarf turned back to Cimorene, and his frown returned.
"I don't see the connection between children and spinning straw into gold," Mendanbar said before the dwarf could start complaining again.
"Would you be good enough to explain it to me?"
"Explain?" the dwarf fumed. "That's what the last girl said, and what happened? Twins, that's what happened! And she claimed she couldn't remember which one was first, so I ended up with both of them."
"I can see why that would be annoying," Cimorene said noncommittally.
The dwarf glared at her. "Yes, you say that now, but-oh what's the use? You'll get it out of me one way or another."
"If you'd rather not tell us-" Mendanbar started, but the dwarf cut him off with a despairing wave.
"It doesn't matter. It's my fate, that's what it is. I should never have agreed to learn to spin straw into gold in the first place."
"Why did you?" Mendanbar asked.
"It's a family tradition," the dwarf answered gloomily. "Of course it doesn't work if you're just spinning for yourself. So, a long time ago, my great-grandfather offered to use his talent to help out a girl who was in a sticky situation. If he hadn't been such a do-gooder, I wouldn't be in this mess."
"What good did he do, exactly?" Mendanbar asked.
"The local prince had gotten a notion that the girl could spin straw into gold," the dwarf said. "Brainless young idiot, but they're all like that. If she could spin straw into gold, why was she living in a hovel? Anyway, Gramps said he'd do her spinning for her in return for part of the gold and her firstborn child. She agreed, but naturally when the baby was born she didn't want to give him up. So Gramps agreed to a guessing game: if she could guess his name, she could keep the baby. Then he let her find out what his name was. She kept the baby and Gramps kept the gold, and everyone went home happy."
"I think I'm beginning to get the idea," Cimorene said. "It's not just spinning straw into gold that's a family tradition, is it? It's the whole scheme."
The dwarf nodded sadly. "Right the first time. Only I can never make it work properly. I can find plenty of girls who're supposed to spin straw into gold, and most of them suggest the guessing game, but I've never had even one who managed to guess my name."
"Oh, dear," said Cimorene.
"I even changed my name legally, so it would be easier," the dwarf said sadly. "Herman isn't a difficult name to remember, is it? But no, the silly chits can't do it. So I end up with the baby as well as the gold, and babies eat and cry and need clothes, and the gold runs out, and I have to find another girl to spin gold for, and it happens all over again, and I end up with another baby. It isn't fair!"
"You, um, seem to be fond of the children, though," Mendanbar said.
The dwarf looked around to see whether any of the children were within hearing distance, then nodded sheepishly. "They're good kids. It's just that there are too many of them. I moved out here so it would be harder for the silly girls to find me and talk me into spinning for them, but they keep finding me anyway."
"It was a rather drastic move, wasn't it?" Cimorene said. "What about the dragons and giants and rock snakes and so on?"
"Oh, they're no problem. The house used to belong to a magician, and he left a lot of guarding spells on it. Nothing nasty can get anywhere near."