Mistress Gurney's Box (Dragontail 4)

MISTRESS GURNEY'S BOX

It sat in the middle of the road as they rounded a blind corner. Sir
Eustace's horse had to brake so hard he nearly fell off.

"What the blazes - !"

He pushed himself upright again and straightened his helmet. Snowdrop
the dragon flew down to investigate.

"What is it?"

"It's a box," said Sir Eustace. "Some blithering idiot has dumped their
luggage right in everyone's way. I could have had an accident."

"Some people have no consideration," agreed the dragon. "Wonder who it
belongs to?"

Sir Eustace got down off his horse and went to have a closer look. It
was a small wooden, ironbound box, about two foot by eighteen inches.
Burnt on the lid in large letters were the words DO NOT OPEN.

"No name on it."

"Perhaps there's an address inside," suggested the dragon.

"Have to open it to find out."

They looked at one another. "After you," said the dragon,
politely.

Sir Eustace shook his head. "No thanks, I don't meddle with strange
boxes. No knowing what might be inside."

"You're scared!" cried Snowdrop.

"I have a well-developed sense of self-preservation," said Eustace.
"Anyway, we're nearly at Toadsley Bottom. Let's take it with us, maybe
someone there will recognise it."

As they drew near the village Snowdrop flew ahead to wait for Sir
Eustace on the other side. They had found that the presence of a dragon
could cause a bit of a stir, and besides it was as well not to appear
too friendly towards each other in public. Eustace made straight for
the village inn, the 'Mad Cow'. As he entered, the box in his arms, the
crowd of yokels inside fell suddenly silent. One or two ducked under
the tables. Eustace dropped the box on the floor.

"Pint of bitter, please," he said.

"Yessir!"

With trembling hands the landlord pulled a pint. Eustace turned to
survey the cowering peasants. "Anyone know anything about this box?" he
enquired. "Found it in the road."

A quavering voice spoke from a corner. "That be Mistress Gurney's
box."

"Who's Mistress Gurney?"

"Oh, a very respectable lady," said the landlord. "No-one round here
has a word to say against Mistress Gurney."

"Then can you tell me where she lives?"

There was a short silence. Everyone seemed to be avoiding his eye. He
heard muttering of "I dunno . . . not one for callers . . . might not
like it . . . "

"Never mind," said Sir Eustace in exasperation, "I expect the address
is inside the box."

The yokels rose as a man and made for the door. Some of them did not
even wait to finish their beer.

"All I want to do is take her box back."

The landlord raised his head cautiously above the bar. "You've not
opened it?"

"Of course not! It's private, obviously."

"Yes. Right. Well, you want to bear left at the haunted house, then
it's t'other side of Bogles Wood, just past the gibbet. You can't miss
it."

"Thanks." Sir Eustace lifted the box. "Bloody hell, it's heavy. What's
she got in here?"

The landlord shuddered. "Don't ask!"

* * *

"Is this it?" asked the dragon, who had joined Sir Eustace again. 'It'
was a small thatched cottage with roses round the door and hollyhocks
in the garden.

"If we've followed the directions right. Why?"

"It all looks to good to be true. And there's definitely something
funny about that box. Can't we just leave it on the doorstep?"

"Well, personally I'd like to meet the lady," said Sir Eustace. "After
all the trouble we've been to, the least she can do is offer us a cup
of tea and a bun."

Clutching the box under his arm, he marched down the path and rapped
smartly on the brass door knocker. The door opened at once.

"Why, it's the Black Knight, bringing my box back! So kind." a husky
voice murmured.
"Do come in."

Sir Eustace sat on the sofa, balancing a delicate china cup and saucer
on his knee. Mistress Gurney sat next to him, a little closer, he
thought, than was strictly necessary. She was a well endowed lady of a
certain age, wearing a gown of red velvet which clung in unexpected
places. She was obviously a witch, you could tell from the crystal
balls on the table and the framed certificate from Miss Emerod's
Academy for Young Witches hanging on the wall.

"I'm so grateful to you and the dear dragon," she said. "I wish I could
have asked him in as well, but he'd never have fitted in my little
cottage."

This was true. Not that the room was particularly small, but it was so
crowded with overstuffed chairs and occasional tables covered in
knicknacks there was scarcely room to move. So Snowdrop was enjoying
his tea and ginger cake by the back door.

"How did you come to lose the box?"

"It was stolen!" She sighed dramatically.
"Such wickedness there is in the world, to make off with a poor widow
woman's only treasure!"

"Hmm. Wonder why they dropped it in the road?" mused Sir Eustace.

"Attack of conscience, perhaps. Another fairy cake? I baked them
specially."

"You knew we were coming?"

"Of course. I saw it in my balls. My knight in shining armour!"

Eustace coughed. "Could do with a bit of a polish, actually."

"And you never even tried to look inside. Weren't you tempted? Just the
teensiest little peek?"

"None of my business what you keep in your boxes."

"Such honour, such integrity."

Sir Eustace blushed. "Just doing my knightly duty." He placed his cup
back on a low table. "Now we really should be going, it's getting
late."

Mistress Gurney clasped her hands in dismay. "Going? Surely you
wouldn't leave a frail, defenceless woman all alone? What if the
robbers come back? And you won't reach the next inn before nightfall.
After all your help, the least I can do is offer you a bed."

Sir Eustace was tempted. Funds were getting low, and sleeping in the
open did his rheumatism no good at all. Mistress Gurney gazed at him,
her ample bosom heaving with emotion.

"Oh, all right," he said.

Mistress Gurney made up a bed in what she called her 'annexe' - a
disused byre build on to the cottage.

"I have my reputation to consider," she explained. Sir Eustace assured
her that he would be very comfortable.

She smiled. "I'll leave the door on the latch, in case you need
anything during the night. Sleep well."

"You want to watch your step with her," said the dragon.

"Don't be silly," said Eustace. "Very pleasant woman, for a witch. Go
to sleep."

The dragon awoke suddenly in the night, and peered round. He was alone.
A line of light showed round the door leading into the cottage.
Snowdrop sighed. He was sorely tempted to leave Eustace to his fate,
but in the end he crawled to the door and put his eye to the keyhole. A
black candle burned on the table, and the witch was stirring something
over in a pot over the fire, singing in a low crooning voice that sent
shivers up Snowdrop's spine. Eustace sat in his nightshirt, staring
straight in front of him. In the middle of the floor was the mysterious
box.

Mistress Gurney finished her stirring, and came over to Sir Eustace.
She stroked his bald head gently, but her never moved.

"Such a fine specimen," she purred. "A real gentleman, not like these
rude peasants round here. I like a mature man, who knows how to treat a
lady. Do you want to open my box?"

Sir Eustace said nothing.

"Go on, you know you want to. You've been curious ever since you found
it. I don't mind."

Sir Eustace rose, stepped forward, and even as Snowdrop drew breath to
shout "Look out!" he bent and lifted the lid.

There was a blinding flash of light, a startled squawk, then the lid of
the box snapped shut. Snowdrop blinked. Eustace has disappeared.

Snowdrop burst through the door, breathing fire. Though he stuck
halfway through, he could still reach Mistress Gurney. She tried a
quick spell, but she was not quick enough. The dragon had her in his
claws.

"You can't attack a lady!" she shrieked.

"Wanna bet?" snarled the dragon. "Sir Eustace is the chivalrous one,
I'm the dragon. I eat ladies. Now get him back, or you're
toast.!"

"All right, all right, put me down." Mistress Gurney straightened her
dress then called out in a trembling voice, "Slaves of the Box, come
forth!"

The lid opened, and out of the box climbed: an old man with a long
white beard, a travelling salesman, two local yokels -

"Where's Sir Eustace?" growled the dragon.

"Sir Eustace, please come out," cried Mistress Gurney. "I didn't mean
it!"

There was a pause, then out came Sir Kevin Dandiprat, closely followed
by Eustace.

"Sorry," he said. "We got chatting."

Mistress Gurney threw herself at his feet, sobbing. "I didn't mean any
harm. I only did it for the company, and a bit of help round the house.
Don't let the dragon eat me! "

Sir Eustace looked at the others. "What do you reckon?" he asked.

"I think she should be reported to the Witches Council," said the
salesman, "they'll
know how to deal with her."

Mistress Gurney dived for the door, taking them all by surprise. She
might well have got away, except that she tripped over the open box.
There was another flash of light, and the lid dropped.

"Oh well, that's sorted," said Sir Eustace.

They set out again soon after. It was nearly dawn by then anyway. The
two yokels took the box back to the village lockup.

"We'll probably let her out in a year or two," they said, "if she
promises to behave. She was a useful witch before she started getting
ideas."

Sir Kevin asked if he could tag along with Eustace for a bit, as he had
nothing better to do.

"You're welcome," said Sir Eustace. He sighed. "You know, I really
thought she fancied me."

"She fancied all of us," said Sir Kevin with a shudder.