by Resa Nelson
“I can’t! Something’s happened to my leg.”
An enormous lizard sprang from the bushes. Although it waddled on short, bent legs that splayed outward, the beast’s torso looked as round and thick as that of the horse that had just abandoned them. Its huge belly hung so low that it dragged the ground. Long ridges shadowed the eyes on its flat serpent head. Its jowls throbbed with thick veins, and dark scales covered its body.
A dragon!
Sinchetto stood facing the beast, keeping his sword pointed at it.
The wolf pup yipped with fierce intent and hurtled on uncertain paws toward the dragon.
Its long, forked, yellow tongue flicked like fire. When the wolf pup came close, the dragon batted it into the bushes with the back of a mighty paw.
Sinchetto circled the dragon but called out to Benzel. “Is anything broken?”
Benzel kneaded the length of each leg. He winced at a sting in his muscle and realized all he’d done was pull it. “Nothing broken.”
“Then climb the nearest tree.” Sinchetto kept a sharp eye on the dragon. His sword and the beast’s needle-like teeth flashed in the sunlight. “The dragon is too heavy to climb up after you. You’ll be safe.”
“I still have my dagger,” Benzel said. “Let me help. I’m not afraid to die.”
“No,” the dragonslayer said. “You know the rules. Do as I say!”
Torn between wanting to help and knowing he had to obey the dragonslayer’s commands, Benzel stood and hobbled toward a tree.
As he did so, the wolf pup nosed its way through the bushes and yipped at the dragon. The pup edged its way toward Sinchetto and the dragon.
Benzel changed direction so he could scoop the wolf pup up in one arm and then headed toward another tree. He held the pup tight in the crook of one elbow and used his free arm to climb. To the pup, Benzel said, “Don’t get involved. Let the master do his work.” Once Benzel reached a height where no dragon standing on its hind legs could reach him, he held the wolf pup to his chest and looked below to see the dragon swat Sinchetto across the ground.
The dragonslayer rolled forward and then scrambled to his feet with sword firmly in hand. He circled the animal again.
The dragon charged at Sinchetto with uncanny speed. Unhinging its jaw, the dragon revealed rows and rows of sharp teeth.
Sinchetto jabbed the sharp point of his sword at the dragon’s tongue, making the beast dodge aside.
Moments later, blood beaded in vertical swipes across the back of Sinchetto’s hand.
The dragon clawed him!
Benzel panicked until he remembered that anyone can recover from claw wounds.
It’s the dragon’s bite that kills people.
With a fierce cry, Sinchetto rushed forward and slashed the sword diagonally at the dragon’s head.
The dragon yapped and recoiled as if struck, even though Benzel saw no blood.
The scales protect like armor. The dragon must have felt the pain but didn’t get cut.
The dragon’s bent legs bowed out to the side like stair steps. It rubbed its jaw against the ground as if seeking relief from the sword blow.
Sinchetto lunged closer and stepped up on the animal’s bowed leg as if meaning to climb upon its back.
With its head already rubbing against the earth, the dragon collapsed on its side and rolled on its back.
Shock distorted Sinchetto’s face, and the force of the dragon’s movement threw him onto the ground. But the dragonslayer recovered immediately, still hanging onto his sword. He scrambled across the short distance to the dragon’s side, plunged his sword into the animal’s exposed belly, and sliced it open.
The dragon shrieked, sat up, and doubled over, its deadly teeth now hovering dangerously close above Sinchetto’s head.
The dragonslayer stayed focused on the task of killing the creature and pulled his sword up into its chest.
The dragon heaved a wretched sigh, and its breath rattled. Before Sinchetto could get out of the way, the dying animal’s head fell on top of him.
“Sinchetto!” Benzel cried. Still clutching the wolf pup, Benzel clambered down the tree and let go of the cub when he reached the ground. He hobbled to the entanglement of dragon and dragonslayer only to find Sinchetto pinned beneath the animal’s unmoving head. The huge jaw hung open. Benzel shuddered at the sight of hundreds of teeth that glistened with spit that now hung in threads from the dragon’s mouth.
Benzel tried to push the dragon’s head away, but the thing weighed too heavy. All the while, he kept calling the dragonslayer’s name.
Finally, Sinchetto answered in a weak voice. “Pull me loose.”
The wolf pup sniffed at the dragonslayer’s torso and legs sticking out from beneath the dragon’s dead body. The little wolf circled around Benzel’s feet with an anxious whine.
Ignoring the animal, Benzel obeyed the dragonslayer by placing a firm grip around his ankles and pulling with all his might. Eventually, he pulled Sinchetto free, and the dragon’s head thumped to the ground.
“Well done, Sinchetto,” Benzel said with joy. “That was the most exciting thing I ever saw!” He extended a hand to help the dragonslayer to his feet.
But Sinchetto didn’t accept Benzel’s hand. Instead, he remained flat on his back.
A bit of dread nagged at the back of Benzel’s mind. He pushed it away and kept his hand extended. “You’re fine. You killed the dragon, and it never bit you.”
Sinchetto released a quiet groan. He lifted his injured hand and looked at it before letting it fall back to the ground. “Benzel,” he said. “You must do exactly as I say.”
“Of course, I will. Now get up.”
The dragonslayer showed his injured hand, now covered in spittle, to Benzel.
Benzel let his hand drift to his side. “Did it bite you?”
“No. It clawed me. The rest of it happened when the dragon fell on me.”
Trying to make sense of what he saw, Benzel said, “If it didn’t bite, that means you’re fine. Scratches from claws will heal. Won’t they?”
“Normally, that is the most likely case,” Sinchetto said. He propped himself up with his good arm.
“But it’s bites that kill. It didn’t bite you, so you’re alright. You’ll be fine.” Benzel started at the frantic sound of his own voice.
“It’s not the bite that kills,” Sinchetto said, “but the poison in the dragon’s spit.”
Benzel shook his head, unwilling to believe the dragonslayer. “No. That can’t be right.”
“If it hadn’t clawed me, I could wash the spit away and be fine. The problem is that a cut in the skin allows the poison from the dragon’s spit into the blood. That is how most dragons kill. They bite their prey and then wait for the prey to die from the poison.”
“Nonsense,” Benzel said.
“Those who are fortunate are bitten and die right away. Those who must wait to die suffer mightily. In a short time, pain will overwhelm my body.”
“No.” Benzel took a step back. “I don’t believe you.”
“The pain is like a nightmare. But it gets worse because the poison causes wretched feelings of anger and doubt, guilt and regret. And then it causes the mind to see things that do not exist in our reality. Monstrous things.” Sinchetto paused. When he spoke, his voice trembled. “It is a torture of the body, mind, and soul. They say that every moment of that torture feels like a year. It goes on for days.”
“The alchemist!” Benzel said with hope. “I can take you to her. She has all kinds of potions. I’ll ask her to heal you.”
“There is no cure,” Sinchetto said. “There is no chance of healing.” He reached for the sword that had fallen to the ground nearby. “I ask that you not let me suffer through the worst torture known in this world. Instead, release me and let me pass to the next one.”
Benzel stared at the dragonslayer in disbelief. “You’re asking me to kill you?”
Sinchetto shook his head. “Only to finish the deed s
tarted by the dragon. A deed that cannot be undone.”
The dragonslayer’s words rattled Benzel. “That’s murder.”
“No.” Sinchetto said. “It is compassion. It is kindness. It is a great act of the gentle heart.” He paused and stared at Benzel. “You know the rules.”
Anyone who sees a dragonslayer doomed to death must help him and do as the dragonslayer asks.
“I know the rules,” Benzel whispered.
Sinchetto pushed the sword toward Benzel. “After you release me to my gods, take this sword to the weapon merchant you met in Gott. Tell him how I met my end and how you helped me. Your village will be assigned a new dragonslayer, and you will help make that happen.”
Sinchetto shuddered, and his face paled.
It’s the poison. It’s making its way through his blood.
Sinchetto sat up and clutched his chest. His eyes bulged and he tore at his chest as if trying to rip something out of it. “Help me!”
You know the rules.
In that moment, Benzel felt as if he’d exchanged places with the dragonslayer. Benzel imagined being crippled by searing pain and no hope of recovery. He imagined being lost in a sea of wrecked emotions. He imagined seeing monstrous things with no way to escape them.
He imagined how all of this would feel if it went on for days with no relief.
He understood why the rule of killing a mortally wounded dragonslayer existed.
A feeling of calm washed over Benzel. He picked up the sword and drove it through the dragonslayer’s heart.
Like the dragon he’d killed, Sinchetto let out a rattling breath.
Benzel pulled the sword free, and the blood poured out from the dragonslayer’s body, surrounding him like a lake while Benzel backed away.
A painful yip startled Benzel. He turned around to see the wolf pup holding up one paw.
I stepped on it.
He let the sword fall away and knelt to face the pup. “I didn’t mean it,” Benzel said. “I’m sorry.”
The wolf pup looked at him with fearful grey eyes.
Benzel kept his voice soft and low. “I won’t hurt you again. I promise.” He took a closer look at the pup and saw its gender. “Trust me, boy.”
The wolf pup’s eyes now held confusion as if it didn’t know what to do or believe.
“Trust me, Grey-Eyes.” Benzel showed his open hands to the wolf pup. When the pup failed to run away, he scooped it up in his hands and nuzzled it with his face.
“I’m sorry.” Benzel wept into the pup’s soft fur. “I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER 9
Benzel didn’t know what to do with the dragonslayer’s body.
Because the dragon had spooked the horse, it had run off with the cart and left Benzel with nothing but the clothing on his back.
And the dragonslayer’s sword.
Benzel tried stabbing the hard ground with the sword in lieu of a shovel but stabbing and scooping the little dirt he managed to loosen took too long. He imagined it would take a day or two just to dig a grave.
The rocks he saw on the ground weren’t enough to cover Sinchetto’s body. And he couldn’t burn it without setting the surrounding forest ablaze.
Grey-Eyes pawed at Benzel’s foot. He looked down at the wolf pup. “What?”
Confident that he had Benzel’s attention, Grey-Eyes trotted into the bushes. Now out of sight, he yipped.
Hoping the wolf pup would lead him to a solution for burying Sinchetto, Benzel followed the animal into the bushes. Instead, he found the reason why a wolf pup as young as Grey-Eyes was alone in the woods.
The torn and bloody bodies of a mother wolf and three pups lay behind the bushes on a hidden path. Grey-Eyes nosed the body of the mother wolf and gave a forlorn look to Benzel.
Benzel knelt and opened his arms. “Come here, Grey-Eyes.”
The wolf pup nudged his mother’s lifeless head with his nose and sniffed.
Benzel surveyed the damage. Everyone knew stories about how dragons killed their prey. Dragons would hide and lie in wait, sometimes for days on end. They’d target paths and roads where they knew animals or people passed on a regular basis. Sometimes dragons would blend in among dry, fallen leaves. Other times, they’d dig out a trench, slide inside, and cover their bodies with twigs and leaves.
Benzel saw such a trench and walked over to examine it. A lingering stink of putrid meat hung in the air. He ran his fingertips over the sharp edges of the slashes in the dirt at the edge of the trench.
Claw marks.
Dead leaves and dry pine needles piled carelessly in the trench as if pushed aside in a hurry. They rattled when the wind stirred them.
The dragon hid here. When Grey-Eyes’ family happened along, it killed them all. Somehow Grey-Eyes escaped. And then he tried to warn us that a dragon was there.
The wolf pup joined Benzel’s side and sniffed at the edge of the trench. Grey-Eyes sneezed and then offered a tiny growl at the trench.
Benzel placed Sinchetto’s body in the trench and then covered it with the leaves and pine needles. He found a few rocks to place on top.
Benzel sighed and stood. He gripped the dragonslayer’s sword and rested it on his shoulder. “There’s nothing more to do here. It’s time to go back to Gott and get help.” He walked out of the bushes with only a slight difficulty. Although he’d broken no bones, a strained muscle made him limp. Noticing the wolf pup hadn’t followed, Benzel said, “Suit yourself. But I can guarantee you’ll be better off going to Gott with me.” He headed back toward the city with the hope to reach it before day’s end.
Grey-Eyes tumbled through the bushes and caught up to trot at Benzel’s heels.
* * *
When the journey became too much for Grey-Eyes, Benzel scooped the wolf pup up in his arms and carried him the rest of the way. The sun skimmed along the horizon for hours on end, leaving Benzel to guess at the time of day. He soon found the abandoned cart, but the horse had broken free. Although he searched for it, Benzel never saw the horse again.
Arriving at the edge of the boardwalk at Gott, Benzel felt relief at the sight of Claude putting away his wares for the day. Benzel called out to him.
The weapon merchant raised a hand and waved with a smile. He froze and squinted as Benzel approached. “What have you got there?” The merchant’s eyes widened and he shouted, “Wolf!” He picked up the nearest dagger and pointed it at Benzel.
Unfazed, Benzel scoffed and walked up to the edge of the crate that separated him from the merchant. “It’s just a young thing,” Benzel said. “Lost its family.” He cradled the sleeping wolf cub in one arm.
The merchant peered at Benzel. “Is that Sinchetto’s sword?”
The terror of the dragonslayer’s death came rushing back to Benzel. He remembered Sinchetto’s instructions. Benzel thought about what the dragonslayer wanted him to do and considered the most appropriate step to take. With a shaking hand, Benzel gripped the sheathed sword. “A dragon came upon us. Sinchetto killed it, but the dragon gave him a mortal wound.” Benzel thrust the sheathed sword at the merchant. “Here. Sinchetto said I should give this to you. He said there are rules in place for when a dragonslayer meets his end. He said a new dragonslayer will be assigned to Hidden Glen and that you will help make it happen.”
Claude stared at the sword and then took it from Benzel.
Grey-Eyes whimpered in his sleep, and Benzel rubbed the wolf pup’s head until he drifted back into peaceful slumber.
“He told you,” Claude said. He held the sword in both hands but stared with suspicion at Benzel. “You said the dragon killed Sinchetto. If Sinchetto was dead, how could he tell you what to do?”
Benzel didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He wanted to go back to Hidden Glen and pretend he couldn’t remember bringing Sinchetto’s life to an end. Even better, Benzel wished he could roam the countryside forever in search of berserkers. If not for them, he would have had a happy life in Heatherbloom with his mother, his father, and h
is baby sister who was never born. If not for berserkers, Benzel wouldn’t have known about the death of Hidden Glen’s merchant or had any reason to take his place. Benzel might have met Sinchetto but never would have had any reason to travel with him. They wouldn’t have been in Gott together or had reason to travel back to Hidden Glen. They never would have encountered the dragon that killed Grey-Eyes’ mother and siblings.
Sinchetto would be alive right now.
It’s the berserkers’ fault that Sinchetto is dead.
His anger at the berserkers gave Benzel the will to speak again. “The dragon clawed Sinchetto’s hand, and then its spittle fell upon it.”
Color drained away from the merchant’s face. “Poison.”
Benzel steeled himself and told the truth. “He asked me to finish what the dragon started. He asked for mercy. He asked me to tell you how he met his end and how I helped him.”
“You’ve done right,” Claude said in a soft voice. “The poison destined Sinchetto to a labored and ugly death. Forcing a man to suffer that way is nothing but torture. It’s heinous. No one should have to die like that. Not ever.”
Benzel sighed in relief. “So, you’ll take care of the rest?”
Thurid scaled down the rope ladder hanging from the ship docked behind her husband. Calling out to him, she said, “The girls seem to be asleep, but it’s your turn to watch them. I’ve done it all day and can’t take anymore.” She landed on the boardwalk with a thud and beamed when she saw Benzel but her happiness turned to confusion. “I thought you and Sinchetto went back to Hidden Glen. What happened?”
In answer, her husband turned and showed the sword to her.
Stunned, Thurid said, “Sinchetto? He’s one of the best dragonslayers I’ve met. How did it happen?”
“Dragon clawed him,” her husband answered. “The poison from its spit got into his blood. Sinchetto sent him back with the sword.” The merchant hesitated. “And for some reason, a wolf cub. It’s young enough that it can’t live without its mother’s milk. When it dies maybe we can strike a deal with the fur trader.”
“We’ll do no such thing!” With a determined stride, Thurid marched around her husband and his crates to Benzel’s side. She took the sleeping wolf pup from his arms and cradled it in her own. “A wolf that accepts a mortal touch is a sign of good fortune. A young one like this is especially good fortune.”