Chapter 9: Negotiations with Lord Farquaad
Scarcely a week had gone by since the contracts were signed, that the usually tranquil badlands around Dragon's Keep began to hum with human activity. First there was a survey team that marked off the areas for the tournament field, seating, and the choicest places where, (for a modest fee payable to the I.T.A.), vendors could set up booths to sell all manner of foodstuffs and souvenirs for the thousands of expected spectators.
Muldoon was ever present to allay their considerable trepidation to be so near the lair of the terrible dragon. "Ye not be worried about the dragon for she never harms the common folk about these parts, jest the knights and adventurers that come to do her harm", he reassuringly said to them.
Next, a train of horse and ox drawn wagons came, and teams of workers began assembling the same banks of well worn spectator bleachers that were transported and erected at tournaments throughout out all the known kingdoms every year per the schedule of the I.T.A.
Dragon waited until the workers began to arrive, and then like a giddy school girl, she excitedly told the wondering Princess Fiona about the tournament in her honor, pointed out her royal box where she would be allowed to view the tournament, and how no less than fifty knights were coming to fight her, though quite stupidly, the reptile reassured the princess that she would protect her charge from the wicked men.
To Fiona this would be even better than here imagined fairytale rescue, for if the foul dragon was not lying, a veritable army of brave and handsome knights were coming to rescue her. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect something so grand.
But still she was troubled. Why was the dragon so happy about this? She wondered. Didn't the monster realize it was the duty of the brave knight or handsome prince to slay the foul beast? Then she remembered how easily it was for the dragon to devour her father's own knights. Would that happen here? No of course not, she put it out of her mind. The dragon had to defeat those knights and take her away in order for her true love to rescue her.
Dragon cleverly elected to remain inconspicuous during all of the preliminaries, not wanting to scare of her perspective feast of challengers. Some were already beginning to arrive, she noted, as lavishly decorated pavilions topped by noble banners proclaimed.
In a way, thought the Herald Montague, the dragon's abduction of Princess Fiona, and her agreement to stage and participate in this special event turned out to be a godsend, for the I.T.A. due to the abrupt cancellation of the normally very large and well attended tournament annually held in nearby Duloc on nearly the same dates. Although normally protected by contracts with the ruling nobility, the dukedom of Duloc had recently been usurped by the very same Captain Hieronymous Farquaad whom Dragon had met, and very nearly had breakfast with, if he had been a more substantial entree' on the very day she went out to bring back the Lovely Yet Tragic Princess Fiona.
And now the Farquaad had cancelled the Annual Duloc Tournament because he believed it would bring too many unknown knights and potential soldiers disguised as spectators to a land and city he had only recently conquered, and had not yet sought out and eliminated all of those that might oppose his rule.
But because he could impose a tax on all Dulocian vendors, (just as the I.T.A. would get their cut of their revenues for renting the booth space at the tournament), Lord Farquaad happily conceded to allow all musicians, merchants and the like to support the event, as he needed every penny in revenues to build his magnificent new combination palace, keep and cathedral that would tower over the rest of the city, the likes of which never being seen before and would be a lasting monument to his greatness. But now, it was only a wooden scale model that towered above the diminutive Lord himself.
Because none of the usual knights of Duloc had registered for the Princess Fiona Redemption Tournament, Montague himself sought, and was given an audience with the new Lord on his way back to the tournament field by Dragon's Keep.. Duloc normally supplied something like two dozen knights to the Tournament Circuit, and the I.T.A. accountants had calculated that most of them should be at Slayerfest. And with their attendance came the hefty registration fee all knights had to pay to engage in any tournament, and particularly so in this one, where a victory over the dragon would bring the slayer the hand of a young princess whose father was king of the most powerful kingdom in the land.
Signs of the recent coup were still visible as Montague rode through the streets of Duloc to the palace of the previous lord, where Farquaad had now taken up residence. But even so, the Herald was amazed by the change that had overtaken the place since he was there the year before, to coordinate the previous annual tournament with the former Lord. Examples of Farquaad's personal banner of pale blue and a stylized the letter 'F' in white hung from every gate, and above every tower. Montague scoffed that the new lord was evidently a common soldier who did not even posses a true coat of arms, or this would be displayed on his banner. But the banner was distinctive, and Farquaad had apparently ordered every wooden shutter of every house and business in the city to be painted in the same colors as well, giving the place more the look of a military barracks than a prosperous town. And if that were not enough, the place didn't stink as all towns of the era did, and to Montague's amazement, instead of seeing piles of manure and garbage that was to be expected, every street and alleyway in Duloc was spotlessly clean.
As a page took the Herald's horse, it relieved itself of the remnants of its last meal on the gleaming flagstones in front of the palace. Spectators gawked at Montague in shock, as if he committed the vulgar act himself, and had he not been a person of some importance, and a visitor to the city, he suspected he would have been fined or even flogged for the inopportune desecration his beast had committed. But no sooner had the incident happened, than two workmen ran hellbent to remove the offending pile.
After the usual tedious introductions, Montague offered Lord Farquaad a complimentary royal box as the tournament for he and his retinue. Farquaad asked if it was a very fat, pinkish red dragon that appeared to be wearing false eyelashes and lipstick, and when Montague affirmed, the Herald was quite surprised when Farquaad angrily responded with "I'll not be getting anywhere near that damnable beast, but if anyone succeeds in killing it, inform them that I will pay a handsome price for its head and hide".
Montague smoothly replied, "The dragon's hide as well as the meat are already I.T.A property per contractual agreement, and therefore quite negotiable milord, though the beast's head naturally is entitled to the victorious knight and you will have to obtain it from the said recipient, though the I.T.A. will be happy to..."
Lord Farquaad cut short the Herald's tirade with a snort of derision, sneering, "My, my, you are certainly counting your chickens before they hatch. So do you have a plot to poison the monster instead of defeating it in a proper fight?"
"Why no milord!" retorted Montague in exaggerated outrage.
Farquaad replied, You're a fool Montague. In a fair tournament that creature will kill every man you put before it. What were you thinking of when you came up with this? Taking the dragon's gold no doubt, and believing these witless athletes will make you rich by doing your dirty work? You will only kill it by treachery, to be sure, but I understand that there are humans are looking after the beast's interests, her own lawyers I understand, if I can believe something so absurd, so that will be no easy feat."
"Yes", muttered Montague, "the dragon does have a lawyer, a very good one in fact, Katzenberg and Associates."
"Ah, reptiles of a feather, flock together" chuckled Farquaad. "Well, here is some free advice Herald: midway though the tournament bring up a covered wagon with a high powered catapult inside that can launch a steel shafted spear drenched in deadly poison. Shoot the dragon in the belly when it least expects it."
"Certainly not sir, the I.T.A. could never be party to such treachery, even to an inhuman beast. Our reputation for good sportsmanship and wholesome family entertainment would be destroyed", Montague replied in a voice of contrived indignation. And then added, "Besides, her lawyers insured that we would forfeit a million ducat indemnity clause if any treachery against the dragon occurs during the tournament."
"Oh that is rich", chuckled Farquaad. "They have already won, you fool, and I suspect you will lose your entire stable of knights in the process, and then where will the I.T.A. be without it's entertainers? Mark my words, Herald, without some form of treachery to kill it, the dragon will devour every man you put against it. I have seen it in action, it is a perfect killing machine, and I know a little bit about killing for it has been my profession these many years. Battlefields are a better teacher than the jousting field. I have fought many wars in the south, but never have I risked my life in that ridiculous sport."
Montague thought to himself, "That is because you are a mere commoner milord and would not be allowed into the lists if you wanted to". Then abandoning the false pretense of dealing honorably with the dragon, he confided, "But you do know what would happen if the dragon discovered our treachery, if poison failed to kill her, or if the catapult missed or only wounded her? Not to mention losing everything to Katzenburg in a court battle we couldn't win."
"Yes, replied Farquaad, "You would undoubtedly die a horrible death in the beast's jaws. In fact, I would expect every living person there will die except maybe the dragons lawyer, though I wouldn't want to be him either next to a maddened beast. You are playing a high risk game Montague just as I did when I took over this land. I came here with nothing but a desperate band of soldiers and now I am the Lord of Duloc. But what I don't understand is that you were already quite well off, yet now you are now risking everything for a dragon's treasure. Well, we've talked enough. I have no intention to become involved in this, and I will allow none of my men to be engaged in so stupid an enterprise. Sell my complimentary seats to some one else for I will not be coming. Oh, but send me the revenue since the seats are mine as you say. But mind you, Herald, if any of my subjects are killed or if the dragon damages my kingdom due to your harebrained plot to steal its gold, there will be hell to pay. I suspect my army is far stronger than your corporation of clerks and confidence men, and my losses will be replaced, I will take them out of your hide, I assure you. Now good day to you Herald."
Meekly now, Montague chirped, "Begging your pardon, m' Lord, but there is just one other thing."
"What is it, and make it quick?" commanded Farquaad.
"Uh, well m' Lord. While you have made it quite clear that none of your own men will be taking part in the tournament, er, normally a large contingent of the Dulocian knights, and even the former Duke took part in our previous tournaments here and being chivalrous gentlemen I am surprised that none of them had volunteered to rescue the fair Princess Fi..."
Farquaad angrily quipped, "They are not available. Most fought for their Duke against me. A few are now dead, most are in my dungeon, including the former Duke himself, waiting to be ransomed by relatives". And then a delightfully wicked thought crossed his mind. He stood up from his throne-like chair, and ordered, everyone but Thelonious to leave the room, and with that, the half dozen or so scribes, servants and retainers left the room leaving only a grim looking man in an executioner's mask who stood next to the Lord's tall chair.
Farquaad waited until they all left and then said, "My dear Herald. I won't mince words. In our chivalrous world I cannot simply eliminate my potential enemies. And besides, I require their ransoms to finance my new palace. But, but once released, the Duke and his loyal knights will likely contrive to get Duloc back, I have seen this kind of thing happen again and again in the wars in the south lands. Now it is said that dragons are sly beasts, and with an equally sly lawyer to boot, I suspect that your contract states that a certain number of knights must be provided to fight the dragon.
"Well yes milord", said Montague thoughtfully, "I had wondered why the dragon would insist on having so many knights who were sworn to kill her, and have this stated in the contract."
"Montague, you are an idiot", Farquaad declared. "The monster and its lawyer know that after a succession of illustrious knights have been turned into dragon fodder, the rest are not going to care for sharing their fate. And if you do not fulfill your part of the contract you will forfeit the million ducat retainer, am I correct?"
"You are correct, milord, but as part of their registration contracts, every knight has agreed that he will forfeit his land and titles if the dragon is still available to fight, and any refuse the engagement when it is their turn in the lists."
Farquaad shook his head knowingly, "Well you are not quite as stupid as I first imagined Montague, I am sure your accountants have assured you of a fine profit even if the dragon wins, and if a number of knights turn cowards, you stand to gain a great deal confiscating their property. But you will still lose the million ducats if your contracted number of knights fail to um perform, am I not correct?"
"You are correct milord", Montague glumly stated.
Montague cursed himself for giving Lord Farquaad so much information, but he suspected the sly mercenary captain-turned-lord would have already found everything out, perhaps he even had informants in the I.T.A. Conceding defeat, but trying to retain the dignity that his high positioning the I.T.A. deserved, he asked, "Um, how many knights are available milord and what would their ransoms be, not that I do not believe one of the very first champions will slay the dragon, and none this will come to naught."
Farquaad rubbed his chin in mock contemplation and strutted back and forth, fully in command of the situation. "My dear Herald, since this is such a mutually beneficial agreement, I will keep it simple. There are eleven knights plus the Duke, and you can have as many as you need at only 10,000 gold ducats each, including the Duke, providing he is the first to, um, fight the dragon. But it needs to look good, so they do not appear being coerced." And then his gaze met the large, formidable looking man in the executioners mask who had been his efficient body guard and henchman for over a decade in his mercenary company, and now received an additional stipend as the official executioner of Duloc.
Farquaad continued, "And as an added bonus, and entirely free of charge, if you take them all, I will send you my man Thelonious here, who will help convince them it is their noble duty to fight the dragon. He can work wonders with a red hot poker in particularly intimate places no spectator will see. Now your audience is concluded Herald, and should the need arise, I look forward to doing business with you." And with that, Farquaad strode back to the model of the new palace, and happily said to his henchman, "Send back the architect Thelonious for I have changed my mind. I do believe I will soon have enough money to commission that really huge stained glass window that I wanted."
"Duh, yes milord", replied the drooling henchman. "I remember, milord. You told him that you wanted the biggest window in the whole world, a window so large that even a dragon could fly through it, duh..right, milord?"