Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  "I know what you're thinking," whispered Yoyo softly, "but often things are more complicated than we like to think, in actual everyday life."

  "So they've never attended a nursery ring?" enquired Flash.

  "For most... no!"

  Flash's shoulders slumped as he shook his head in resignation.

  One of the dragons stepped forward, a look of righteous indignation scrawled across his face.

  "Who the hell are you to judge us... human?!" he growled fiercely, full on into Flash's face.

  'Clearly,' thought Flash, as he swept into action, 'Yoyo hasn't explained to them who I am.'

  It happened so quickly, not a single one of them saw it, that's how fast he was. Having kicked one of the young dragon's legs away, Flash twisted his left wing behind his back and had produced a tiny little blade which was now hovering mere inches above the dragon's weak spot. Struggling for all he was worth, the youngster attempted to shake Flash off, but try as he might, he couldn't budge the ex-Crimson Guard. As one, the others exhaled at the sight of their friend in trouble.

  Before things could get any further out of hand, Yoyo stepped in.

  "Enough!" he ordered.

  Looking up, Flash knew he'd made his point, and so slipped the concealed blade back where it had come from.

  Two other dragons pulled the dazed youngster to his feet.

  "Hillier! Apologise. Now!" Yoyo commanded.

  A look of scorn on his face, the embarrassed dragon managed to mumble a barely coherent, "Sorry."

  Looking on, Flash was pleased that his rightful place in the scheme of things had been returned.

  "And you... dumbass!" exclaimed Yoyo, punching Flash fully in the arm, much to the former Crimson Guard's surprise. "I thought you of all beings would know that experience, courage, bravery and more importantly... help, comes in all shapes and sizes, and that you should never judge a book, or more crucially, a dragon, by its cover."

  A wave of exhaustion washed over Flash, and suddenly he looked suitably chastised.

  "They may not have had the education that you or I have had, one that should be a given right for all dragons, but they're smart, courageous, loyal, brave and undeniably devious. All traits that I think could be put to good use at the moment. Plus, they've spent the last few months working on two things for just this very moment, should it ever come to pass. So for now... take my word that they're worthy allies."

  Flash nodded.

  "My apologies... to you all. I've had a long, exhausting journey, which of course is no excuse for my behaviour. I... I mean we... need all the help we can get. A bold play for the planet has been set in motion, and if we can't achieve what I came here for, then the dragon world, along with the human one above it, will cease to exist in any recognisable form."

  Each and every dragon there looked on, shocked and stunned.

  "And as for all of you," cried Yoyo, turning around in a giant circle behind Flash, his wings outstretched, "be sure you know exactly who you're dealing with here. This dragon is the bravest and mightiest warrior I've ever met. And yes... DRAGON! He eats death for breakfast, gorges on him for lunch, before taking him out for evening cocktails and kicking his ass! You saw, or not as the case may be, what he did to young Hillier here. No ordinary dragon is capable of that. So show him your respect, offer him your loyalty, pledge your allegiance to his cause. Because now is the time. Time to make a difference. I know none of you are stupid, and I know you've all been wondering what on earth has been going on over the last few months, about what I've had you doing in particular. Well... now you know. We need to go to the coldest and harshest place on the planet... Antarctica. To what end...? A rescue. Would that be right?" he asked, turning to Flash.

  Flash nodded in response.

  "Along with several other dragons, the king of the naga race is being imprisoned, and we need to free them all. I won't lie to you, it's not going to be pleasant. It might not even be possible. We might all die in the process. But if we don't at least attempt it, then everything's lost. The entire planet. What you witnessed on the news, the bombings, the devastation, the loss of life, is just the tip of the iceberg and will look like a picnic in the park compared with what's to come. I won't hold it against you if you don't wish to come. A more dangerous mission I can't possibly imagine." (Well, he could... just one! The one his friends on the other side of the planet were attempting, right at this very moment.) "But if Yoyo vouches for you, then you're fine by me. It's time to decide!"

  A huddle of dragons on a cold, deserted, dark runway in the middle of nowhere never looked so strange. After fifteen seconds or so, it was decided.

  "We're all in!" announced a young female dragon full of confidence.

  Yoyo smiled and nodded at Flash.

  "Then you'd better show him exactly what we have."

  From out of the darkness appeared a huge canvas bag that took two dragons on each side to drag over to the runway. Everyone gathered round as the epic looking zip keeping it held together was run the length of the bag, almost longer than most school sports day races. Spilling open, the bag revealed layer after layer of shimmering material. Huge muscular dragon arms dipped in and pulled out one of the layers of fabric, holding it up to what little moonlight there was. Before Flash's very eyes, the material almost seemed to disappear.

  'No... not disappear,' he thought, 'blend in. It blends in seamlessly to whatever the background is. For decades the Crimson Guards had dragons working on something like this, without much luck it had to be said. These youngsters can't possibly have come up with just that, in only a matter of months, can they?'

  "I thought it would be much harder to shock you."

  "That's quite some feat."

  "I knew you'd know what it was. But that's only part of its secret."

  That got Flash's attention.

  'I wonder what else it does?' he thought, gaining more respect for the youngsters with every second that passed.

  "The suit, as that's effectively what it is," announced Yoyo, holding up one of the pieces of material, "is a dynamic insulator, affording whoever wears it the ability to ward off the cold, as well as acting as a regulator for that being's thermal profile. In essence, it should provide suitable protection against even the harshest of environments, as well as providing camouflage so good that it should render its wearer practically invisible to all but the most adapted of species."

  As everything Yoyo said sank in, Flash turned just in time to see one of the group of young dragons finish slipping her suit on. As soon as it embraced every living part of her... BAM! She simply disappeared, right in front of him. It was awe inspiring!

  And then the thought hit him. All the suits were dragon sized. What was he going to do?

  "I don't suppose one size fits all?" he piped up, hopefully.

  "I'm afraid not," whispered the young female, who'd only just disappeared, from right behind him. Desperately, he tried to pretend she hadn't startled him as a glum look of disappointment formed on his face.

  "But I'm assuming the human shaped one that Yoyo had us make is for you," she exclaimed, her head now the only part visible after having pulled down the hood. Flash turned to stare at his friend, who just smiled back and nodded.

  It didn't take long for all the warm stealth suits to be handed out. In fact, it took longer to put them on for the dragons, than it did to pass them round. Some of the youngsters had real issues getting into them, needing assistance, much to the amusement of some of the others. Yoyo also mentioned the heat specific search mantra that the team of brilliant individuals had come up with.

  'For the first time in a while,' Flash thought, 'things are starting to look up.'

  With them all suited up, Flash hitched a ride on the young female dragon, who was the only one to offer, seemingly amused to let another dragon ride her. Yoyo tucked Flash's boots in a specially designed pocket on his suit, so that they would be tucked away safely, and hidden from view. So in the darkness of the deserted airfield
, the small, invisible dragon force took off, heading as fast as they could towards the icy plains of Antarctica, and the frozen hellhole that haunted Flash's nightmares.

  The ever dwindling dragon force left alive in the deadly council building had been ordered to fall right back to the entrance of the king's private residence. Small cells of nagas had managed to infiltrate the council building, and that combined with whatever was causing the constantly opening, closing and locking of key doors in all areas of the building had proved costly to the remaining force left to protect the dragon monarch. A small contingent lay in wait just on the private residence side of the steep sided walkway, hugging the shadows of the rock face, barely noticeable at all. Most of the rest were beyond the entrance, a command post having been set up around the plinth, right in the centre circle of the ground floor of the magnificent building. For the most part, the king had been consulted on everything that was being done. Falling back hadn't been ideal, but under the circumstances, they'd had little choice. Taking on the small forces of nagas would have effectively been child's play, but for whatever was opening and shutting those doors at random, which changed the layout of the building almost every second, removing any advantage the dragons had. Whoever had devised that plan had certainly known what they were doing, and indeed it had cost them dearly, both in terms of lives lost and ground given away. Should he ever find out who was behind this, the king had a very specific idea of what he would do to the individuals, or individual, responsible.

  A delicate (if that's what it could be described as, given the dragon producing it was renowned for being a formidable warrior) cough forced the king away from his thoughts of dark vengeance.

  "Captain," said the king.

  "Your Majesty," she replied, bowing a little.

  "Enough with the formalities, Captain. We have more than enough to think about, without all that nonsense. What's on your mind?"

  Amelia Battlehard smiled, well... a little at least. She'd had little contact with the monarch himself, and had only recently been posted here from the consulate in Paris. But often she'd heard other guard members comment on what a no nonsense dragon he was, and how he had an uncanny knack for cutting through all the crap, so to speak. To see it firsthand, despite the desperate situation they found themselves in, was refreshing. She supposed it helped that he used to be a knight and so must have had a good grasp of battleground tactics and close quarters fighting, something which it looked more and more like it might come down to. Taking him at his word, she decided to speak her mind.

  "I'm a little concerned about the... eh... the basement of the council building, Sire."

  "You mean the mythical beast capture and detain level, Captain?"

  "Yes. It had been at the back of my mind all the time we were defending the building... what if the containment shut down, allowing everything down there out? I was glad it didn't, but couldn't understand why not; after all, the strange goings on affected everything else apart from that.

  Having already taken a real shine to the young captain, the king knew her to be a quick study, have an even quicker mind, and not be afraid to muck in with her troops, as well as being a gifted communicator. And although he was sure he could trust her (well he was, even at this very moment... with his life,) he wasn't sure he wanted to tell her why the mythical beasts were still contained. No good could come from her knowing that the release to the entire level wasn't controlled by any one dragon, or the computer, or some kind of electrical power supply, but by the magical ring throbbing away on his finger right at this very moment, the one with which they planned to power the shield which right now they were trying to set up at the entrance to this very building. Briefly, he wondered whether in actual fact he should set the mythical creatures free, to be recaptured at a later time. Before, it hadn't really been an issue, not when his force had been inside the council building, but now that they'd retreated back here, he could in fact let the creatures loose, in the hope that if nothing else they would damage the invading force that was heading their way, as well as not allowing said force to get their hands on some of those particularly dangerous creatures. It wasn't a decision he was willing to make at the moment.

  "It's okay, Captain. I know why the basement remains locked down. And it's better that you don't know any more... for now at least. If things get desperate... well, more desperate," he smiled, "then I'll consider releasing the creatures. But it should only be as a last resort."

  "I understand... Your..."

  The king held up his hand and cut her off.

  "Enough with all this nonsense. No more Your Majesty or Sire. Not until we've gained our, and everybody else's, freedom. Understood?"

  "Understood," she answered reluctantly.

  Just then one of the guards at the makeshift command post shouted over.

  "Ummm... Captain, Your Majesty... you might want to come and take a look at this."

  Amelia Battlehard rolled her eyes at the king, something that greatly amused him, as they both strode purposefully over.

  "Report!" ordered Captain Battlehard.

  Swivelling around a high tech laptop sitting delicately atop the raised plinth, the guard had frozen its crystal clear screen on a piece of rather poor quality video footage.

  "It suddenly occurred to us that some of the buildings in and around the Buckingham area are equipped with video surveillance."

  Both the king and the captain alike raised their eyebrows.

  "It's a hangover from a period before the council building was erected. Certain streets had a reputation for being a little... uncivilised," continued the guard. "Anyhow, we managed to hack into a couple of the cameras, the only ones that still seem to be online. You'd better take a look."

  Hitting the resume button, the grainy footage on the screen started to play. The king vaguely recognised the end of the shadowy alley the camera was located on. But that wasn't what caught his attention. Looking out over the square, adjacent to the one in front of the council building, currently it contained a huge number of nagas, in their human forms by the look of things, and a complement of odd looking dragons, all marching together. They had to be outnumbered two or three hundred to one, just from what they could see, and that might just be the tip of the iceberg. Just when he'd thought it couldn't get any worse, his blood ran cold at the sight of something smack bang in the middle of said force. His face was a picture of hatred and anger, as both the captain and guard stepped back at once.

  "What is it?" asked Amelia Battlehard.

  Hitting pause on the touch screen, the king answered.

  "There!" he said, pointing right into the middle of the throng of bodies.

  Both dragons looked hard at the group surrounded by the guards, but it was difficult to make out, particularly with human, dragon and naga shapes all on view.

  "That's who's responsible for all of this. That's who we'll be fighting."

  "Do you mean the old man?" exclaimed the captain, taking a closer look at the screen.

  "He might look like a harmless old man, Captain," replied the king, "but I'd recognise that being anywhere. And so should you, especially if you know your history. He's most definitely a dragon you won't forget in a hurry. I know I haven't. His name is... TROYDENN!"

  Both the captain and the guard pulled abruptly back from the screen.

  "Are you sure Sire?"

  "Oh yes," answered the king. "Very, very, very sure."

  "What could he possibly want, to go to all this trouble?"

  "My head on a platter," replied the king softly, focusing in on the group in the picture once again. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed, recognising three of the other beings there.

  "Sire?" enquired the guard.

  Slumping down in the only vacant chair, dragons all around stopped what they were doing to watch.

  "What is it Majesty?" asked Captain Battlehard. "We need to know."

  Holding his head in his hands, too angry and frightened to look at the screen any more, he answered
the dedicated soldier.

  "Both human shaped captives are known to me. One is my best friend's grandson. The other is the 'white dragon' from the famed prophecy, newly arrived in our realm. Having both of these dragons prisoners does not bode well. But at least we now know who was responsible for the lovely goings on in the council building."

  Both dragons once again looked closer at the screen. It was the getting-older-by-the-second captain who spoke first, or rather hissed,

  "ROSEBLOOM!"

  "So it would seem, so it would seem," muttered the monarch.

  Amelia Battlehard stood up stock straight, surprising the guard beside her. Saluting, she announced,

  "We won't let you down Sire. Not a chance. I'll die before I let those scum sucking traitorous leeches get hold of you."

  "We all will!" growled the guard next to her.

  "WE ALL WILL!" echoed from every guard, in every corner of the building.

  Touched, almost to tears, the king knew they needed to see him strong, they needed him to give them strength. Standing, he turned slowly in a full circle.

  "Know this! This is where we draw the line! This is where we make our stand! And notice I say WE! You and I... side by side. If this pervading threat wants to come into our home, our kingdom, our domain, then it does so at its own peril. I will not kowtow to evil, here or anywhere else. I promise to fight with you and for you. I will stand by your side. I will defend and protect you with my dying breath. I HAVE YOUR BACK! NOW AND ALWAYS!"

  A rapturous cheer echoed around the room, the mood transforming instantly from one of distant hope, to a feeling that anything was possible. That... had been the king's intention. As destiny marched closer and closer, he just hoped that what they had would be enough to stave it off.

  Through the tiniest slit in his bruised, battered and bloodshot eyes, Peter could just about make out where they were. If he was correct, then an epic showdown was all but impossible to stop. Abruptly he coughed, something inside him working its way up his throat. Despite the fact that he found it disgusting, he could do little else but to spit it out. Looking down at the uneven cobbles, he focused on what had just vacated his body. A huge glob of mucus wrapped in blood lay dribbling away just in front of him.