Chapter 4
Two hours of sleep was hardly enough to get by on, but it might draw suspicion if he slept too long. He walked into the common room and found all but one of his men eating breakfast. The other came in shortly thereafter. It had been awhile since anyone had had much free time and there was some spirited discussion as to the proper use of the day. First, they had to see to getting more supplies, tending their horses, and repairing or replacing any damaged or lost equipment. The villagers eyed the intruders skeptically but were happy to take their money in exchange for goods and services. Several of the older girls looked with longing eyes at the soldiers as they went about their business, but Tristan or their fathers chased them away before they could do more than look. Word had spread that these soldiers were not as bad as the usual members of their Order, and soon a banquet was organized in their honor. In anticipation of the festivities, the men bathed for the first time in weeks, much to everyone’s relief. That evening there was much food, fun, and music. But it was early to bed, as they must leave very early the next morning.
They had been on the trail two days when they came upon a small cottage on the edge of the woods. A woman sat out front crying. Tristan dismounted and approached the sobbing woman. At first, she looked as if she would flee at sight of his uniform, but something in his face or manner stayed her flight. “Why do you cry lady?” asked Tristan.
“My daughter went looking for a strayed cow three days ago and nothing has been seen of her since,” she said, “I am afraid some evil has befallen her. I would go after her but I must stay here with my younger children and my husband is abroad on business.”
“We will go after your daughter if you will give us her name, description, and the direction she went,” said Tristan. The woman smiled through her tears and complied with his request. Tristan explained the situation to his men and some smiled at the thought of rescuing a damsel in distress while others rolled their eyes at wasting their time chasing lost girls and wandering cows. They divided into two parties, one led by Tristan and the other by a large, but capable man called Bristol. The girl’s tracks were fairly obvious at first but as they climbed towards rockier ground they became at first faint and then nonexistent. Tristan knew the dangers of the Wildlands, especially for a girl abroad alone at night.
There were a few peasants who dared the Wilds in hopes of finding freedom from the oppression of the ruling class, but they traded oppression for constant danger. They were free from any ruler, but they also had no one to defend them in times of trouble. Small villages of such pioneers were much safer than those who dared live alone, but each man chose as he pleased. At the point where the tracks vanished, the trail forked and Tristan’s party went left and Bristol’s went right. They were to meet back at the fork in two hours. If nothing had been found they would discuss where to proceed from there. Tristan’s party followed their branch of trail which led them out into a small village, but no one there had seen or heard anything about either a girl or a cow. No tracks or trails had led off from the main path and it was unlikely the girl would turn off on her own with no sign of the wandering cow, and a wandering cow should leave some sign of broken branches or crushed vegetation. They turned around and headed back to the rendezvous point.
Bristol’s men followed their trail which twisted and wound its way ever upwards into a very rocky and hilly region where nothing grew but sparse grass and such weeds as are found in barren and forgotten lands. The horses smelled something that made them uneasy but they went forward with some encouragement from their riders’ boot heels. Along the way, one of the sharper-eyed members of the party had noticed a track here or a bit of broken branch there. They seemed to be on the right trail at least. As the trail crested a steep ridge, they saw much broken brush and many displaced stones, and following the trail with their eyes saw that at the bottom of the steep bank there were signs of a struggle and much blood. They carefully led their horses down the bank and examined the area. It appeared that a large animal, possibly the lost cow, had fallen down the bank, thrashed around, and then was drug away. But what could drag away a full grown cow and how did the girl fit into all of this? They had no choice but to follow the trail and see where it led. The trail was obvious and they had covered nearly three miles before they reached the end. Every so often, a large, birdlike track appeared and the men eyed each other nervously. The trail led over a small hill and as they topped it, they heard the sound of a child’s singing. They exchanged confused looks but continued to the source of the sound. It came from the depths of a cave, outside lay the half-eaten carcass of a roan cow.
“Tabitha?” called Bristol at the mouth of the cave.
“Yes?” came the voice of a young girl.
“Are you well?” called Bristol.
“I am very well,” said the girl as she appeared at the mouth of the cave. “Who are you?” she asked.
“We are travelers in this forsaken land and we came upon your crying mother,” said Bristol, “she asked us to find you and bring you home if we could find you. Why do you tarry here in this barren wasteland when your cow is obviously beyond repair and your mother despairs of ever seeing you again?”
A look of sadness crossed her face and she said, “I did not mean to trouble my mother, but Nargath has asked me to stay for awhile. He likes my singing and says he will take good care of me. Our poor cow was frightened by Nargath, and fell down the bank and broke her leg. He put the poor old thing out of her misery and has made a meal of her.”
The soldiers exchanged another confused glance and Bristol said, “who is Nargath?”
“I am Nargath,” echoed a voice from above the cave. All looked up into the glowing red eyes of a dragon; the men as well as the horses froze with terror. “Who are you?” rumbled the vast creature. “And why do you trouble my poor little bird?”
“We are travelers in this strange land and her mother sent us to find her,” said Bristol nervously.
“She is not lost,” growled the dragon, “she is a comfort to me in these comfortless times. She will stay where she is until I decide to send her away.”
“But her mother weeps for her return,” said Bristol.
“She will get over it eventually, besides she has other children and she knows the risks of living in the Wilds. The child is mine,” said the dragon. He continued, “and by the look of you, you are not just simple travelers but some sort of soldiers or mercenaries. I also think you are of that despicable brood that dares to call itself the Order of the Unicorn. As if they have even seen a real unicorn, let alone The Unicorn, bah! But it is odd that such as yourselves would stoop to take notice of a weeping woman in need. Perhaps you are not as self-important and greedy as most of that lot? Therefore, I will not destroy you immediately and I will even give you a chance to prove to me that there is some reason I should let you live.”
“Sir,” said Bristol in terror, “allow one of my men to ride back and find our leader and he will treat with you. A month ago, we were but simple farm boys and he has taken us on this journey to make us men. He has the knowledge and wisdom to answer your questions.”
“Well spoken,” said the dragon, “I grant your request, but be quick about it. Meanwhile, my little bird will sing for us.” Bristol chose one of the men to ride back and find the others while the rest sat down and prepared to wait. As he rode away, the little girl began to sing a cheerful song that sounded eerie and wrong in that empty land.
He rode swiftly and arrived at the meeting place as quickly as he could. “A dragon!” said Tristan upon hearing the news, “what color was he?”
“Green,” said the man.
“At least he was not black or red,” said Tristan, “black dragons are as evil as they come and a red dragon is not necessarily evil but they are short-tempered at best. At least a green dragon may be willing to negotiate. They love philosophy, music, and literatur
e. There is nothing they would rather do than talk for hours on end. Some of them are evil, but the majority of them are peaceful creatures more interested in their own affairs than bothering about the rest of the world. We had better go quickly.” With that they rode off as fast as the horses could go over climbing, rocky ground. They arrived sooner than the dragon expected and had to wait until the girl finished her current song.
“Thank you little one that will do for now, go take a nap in the cave while I talk to these gentlemen,” said the dragon. The girl nodded sleepily and disappeared into the cave. That explains much thought Tristan to himself; no wonder he did not want to let the girl go home. He probably enjoyed her company and songs as a bedridden invalid enjoys a caged bird. This could be difficult. “Ah, the mighty leader himself,” laughed the dragon, “now we shall strenuously negotiate for several days; I will keep the girl and may destroy you for the fun of it, but come let us see what you have to say first. It is long since I had a worthy opponent.” Tristan hoped he was being sarcastic, but nothing he had ever read mentioned sarcasm as a draconian trait.
“Now these boys tell me that you are here to free my precious little bird,” said the dragon. “I caught her and she is mine, and if you must take her by force you will soon learn that seven horsemen are of little consequence to a dragon of my size and age.” He was right; he was a massive beast therefore he was very, very old which meant piercing his scaled hide would be like trying to pierce a paving stone with a willow wand. Force was pointless. Even the unicorn’s horn would only dent his hide and she would not attack a dragon unless it was on the very brink of eating her, which seemed unlikely at this juncture. Negotiation would have to do, and something in the dragon’s voice and manner suggested he was dying for a rousing debate.
“True you caught her,” said Tristan, “but does that truly make her yours?”
The dragon looked hopefully at him and his eyes twinkled as if to say ‘this is going to be fun.’
“You state that, ‘I caught her and she is mine,’ but,” continued Tristan, “you fail to recognize that the Common Law stipulates that, ‘no sapient creature shall be held against its will by any other sapient creature not recognized as its rightful guardian unless deemed necessary for the safety of the creature in question or for the safety of other creatures impacted by said creature, as judged by an objective party.’ I am sorry to mention that you do not qualify as an objective party. I am neither guardian nor relative to this child. I was sent on an errand by her mother but otherwise have no relation to her whatsoever, and I do not benefit or suffer either by returning her to her mother or by riding off forever and leaving her to her present fate. Therefore, I judge that she should be released to the custody of my men and I for safe return to her parents.”
“Very good,” laughed the dragon, “except that I perhaps do not recognize the Common Law as binding. It is all very well for peasants and kings but what has it to do with me?”
“You deny the authority of the Master?” asked Tristan.
“No,” growled the dragon.
“Then you must abide by the Common Law or be found either a liar or a criminal; the Common Law was given to us by the Master himself as a guide on how to live peaceably with our fellow thinking creatures. You may deny the Master exists, deny the veracity of his Laws, or fail to abide by the Laws but you cannot logically acknowledge the Master’s authority and act contradictory to his Laws without becoming a criminal or a liar. Are you either?”
“No,” growled the dragon. This was not going exactly as he had hoped.
“Then you must surrender the girl,” said Tristan.
“But the Law states, ‘except for the safety of the creature,’ what if the girl is safer here than at home?” asked the dragon hopefully.
“She is in danger anywhere in these forsaken lands,” said Tristan, “besides, you may crush her in your sleep as easily as she may break her neck falling out of her own bed at home. That clause is meant for creatures that pose a danger to themselves and need to be restrained to prevent harm from befalling them. This girl is no danger to herself, at least no more than any growing child is.”
“You may claim to be an objective party,” snarled the dragon who was very unhappy with the way things were going, “but how do I know that you do not have some sort of hidden connection or agenda. I claim the right to appeal.”
“You are allowed to appeal your case before the Master himself if possible, which is highly unlikely in these later years, or to one of his representatives, namely the Brethren,” said Tristan.
“Yes,” smiled the dragon, “and since the Brethren seem few and far between and it may be years before we can find one to rightly judge between us I get to keep the girl. Feel free to apply to Astoria for help; you may hear back before you die of old age.”
“But,” said Tristan triumphantly, “there is no reason to apply to Astoria.”
“You mean,” asked the dragon, staring suspiciously at Tristan and then glancing back at his patiently waiting men who were well out of earshot, “you are one of the Brethren? I thought they went about on unicorns, not to mention that your choice of companions is quite odd.”
The mare made a growling noise or as close to a growling noise as a horse can make, and the dragon eyed her strangely. Addressing the mare he said, “you mean you are a unicorn?” She nodded. He inclined his head in a sort of bow, “forgive me madam for not greeting you appropriately upon our first meeting. This little disguise of yours is quite ingenious and I have not heard of it before. No wonder I have not seen any of the Brethren in many years. Perhaps I should pay a visit to your Lady. It has been a very long time.” The mare seemed placated and made a bow herself, though awkward with a rider on her back. “I deem my case fairly judged and will take the girl back myself, though I would still like visiting privileges,” said the dragon.
“Fair enough,” said Tristan, “though you will have to work that out with her parents. I cannot imagine they would mind, especially if you offer to help protect their home from the evil things that frequent these borderlands.” The dragon seemed pleased with the whole affair, excused himself, and taking the girl tromped off towards her home. Tristan gathered his men and had them set up an early camp as the dragon had politely asked them to stay for supper, and no one in his right mind said ‘no’ to such a request from something that could easily eat you for supper.
The men were nervous about pitching camp so near the dragon, but they trusted Tristan’s judgment and feared angering their reptilian host so they quickly complied. The dragon returned carrying a couple of struggling deer, which were quickly dispatched, butchered, and cooked over a roaring fire. Fresh meat was a welcome addition to their diet as they had been living on salted or dried meat for far too long. Over the course of the night, the dragon and Tristan talked much. Each was ravenous for good conversation and each had a keen mind, a wealth of knowledge to share, and many questions to ask. The men kept to their camp for the most part, but occasionally one would join the conversation for a brief period before retreating to the more mundane business of sleeping, cooking, or cleaning equipment. The conversation between their leader and the dragon was on such a level as to intimidate even the brightest of the group. It was late in the night before Tristan said he must get some sleep. The dragon insisted they stay for at least another night and that perhaps they would learn much to their advantage. Tristan agreed and sought his blankets.
The next morning after a breakfast of leftover venison, Tristan used the treeless moors upon which they found themselves to great advantage. The better part of the morning was spent in drilling his men in the basics of cavalry formations, attack, and defense. When he thought they had it down well enough not to accidentally kill each other, he had Bristol lead them in drills throughout the rest of the day while he resumed his talks with Nargath. The dragon had much to say on the Wildlands and the mysterious lan
ds beyond, on the Order of the Unicorn, and on the evil that seemed to be stirring throughout the world. Nargath promised to visit the Lady and to let his fellow dragons (at least those friendly towards other creatures) know about recent events and to be on their guard and assist as they could. They spent another night in the cheerless hill country next to the dragon’s lair. The dragon and Tristan talked long into the night, but after a day of such activity all the men except the watchman went straight to bed. Tristan snuck into his covers long after midnight. The morning came far too early, as is ever its wont. They bid farewell to their host who even now was off on his own business as they were embarking on theirs. They mounted their horses and headed back towards the woods and further adventures.
The Sampler Platter: A Little Bit of Everything Page 5