Fire and Thorn

by Mary Vee

  “I’ve never seen a real dragon before,” said Jonathon. “We’re going to die.”

  The trainer’s face turned a furious red. He yelled, “That dragon will turn you into toast if you don’t hurry. Prepare for battle at once.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gilbert frantically searched through the camp for his bow. He had his father’s sword, but he’d mastered the bow. The squires armed their weapons and took aim as he picked up his.

  “Sire.” Robert glanced at Gilbert. “We can’t lose another king. Get behind a tree! Hurry. We will fight the dragon for you and the kingdom.”

  His father didn’t hide. “I won’t cower. I’m a trained knight as much as the others.”

  Sir Robert moved closer. His height almost the same as Gilbert’s father. “I understand you want to fight with us, but, sire, you’re not our knight. The kingdom needs you.”

  Gilbert nocked an arrow unwilling to concede. He took aim at the dragon’s heart and released the arrow. It soared straight and true. As it neared the enemy, though, another arrow veered into the path, colliding with his and sending both tumbling to the ground.

  The dragon exhaled a plume of fire searing nearby treetops. The squires dropped to the ground and covered their heads. Spreading its vast wings, the creature raised high above the ground. It hovered over the battlefield, wildly rising up and dipping down. The warriors sprang to their feet and rearmed their bows. They stretched their strings to full capacity and aimed.

  “I could hit the mark easier if it would only hold still,” said squire Jonathon.

  “Remain calm,” Gilbert whispered.

  The monster banked sharply to the left, whipping its wing under a branch. Ben yelled, “Drop!”

  As Daniel lowered his weapon, he bumped Jonathon. The sudden jolt sent Jonathon’s arrow soaring across the field. The warriors dropped to the ground and covered their heads as the dragon swooped near.

  Gilbert peeked up at the situation. The steward stood against a tree. What was he doing? “Get down!”

  “I can’t! I’m stuck.” He tugged his shoulders, barely moving them.

  The other squires lifted their heads. Daniel elbowed Jonathon. “You pinned the steward to the tree. What’s the matter with you?”

  Jonathon shook his head. “You bumped me. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “Stay down,” Gilbert commanded. He signaled Ben to follow him. They tucked their heads low and raced toward the tree. The dragon swooped up and circled the camp as though searching for a victim. “Hold still, Steward,” said Gilbert. “We’ll set you free.” They wrapped their hands around the shaft of the arrow buried deep into the trunk and yanked.

  At the same time, the steward jerked on his tunic, attempting to tear it free.

  “Your clothing is wedged by the arrow,” said Gilbert.

  The steward yanked harder. He suddenly turned his head to the field. “Sire, it sees your movement. It’s banking down and toward us. Move away. Please, move away.”

  Gilbert wiped his sweaty hands on his tunic and grabbed hold again. On the count of three, he and Ben yanked hard, freeing the arrow. “Hurry. Get down.”

  The steward stood frozen for a second. “Sire…” The dragon’s wing struck him with a blow that threw him several feet into the air. His arms flailed before he bounced on the earth. He moaned once then flopped flat against the dirt.

  High above their camp, the enemy sounded a victory screech. It hovered then dipped between the squires and the masters. Sir Robert and the trainer took advantage of the opportunity. Again and again, they plunged their swords into the dragon, yet the creature refused to die.

  The squires moved in closer, aimed their arrows, and shot at the beast. Each fell short of the mark. “If only I had the strength to shoot farther,” cried out Charles.

  Sybil drew another arrow from her quiver. “Keep trying, Charles. If anyone can hit this target, it’s you.”

  Gilbert and the squires aimed at the monster who taunted them by swooping close then up to the sky. Charles’ hand trembled as it strained to keep tension in the string. “We’ll never succeed.” Sir Robert and the trainer poised their swords and darted toward the dragon. Fire sprayed their shields.

  Gilbert cried out. “Don’t give up. Fight.” He released his arrow. It bounced off the creature’s scaly back. Without a whimper, the monster turned. It seemed to fixate on Sir Robert. The villain tipped its head back and screeched a war cry. The high pitch pierced their ears.

  Sir Robert and the trainer looked over their shields and lunged forward, swords the ready to take the creature down. Sir Robert shouted, “For Aerlis and King Gilbert.” The dragon shoved them back with its talons sending them sailing against the ground.

  The squires dropped their bows and drew their swords. Their war cry rivaled the dragon’s screech. They neared their enemy with weapons thrust straight ahead. Their blades sunk into the thick hide releasing green gooey blood. They yanked their weapons free and pierced the creature again.

  The dragon swiped its tail as if batting at mosquitoes. The squires fumbled for their weapons, dazed, then struggled to their feet.

  The knights attacked in a fortified front then the squires. The wave of attacks distracted the dragon, giving Gilbert opportunity for a clear shot. He quietly stepped back away from the others and found one opening to the monster’s heart within range for an arrow strike. He armed his bow and waited for the right moment. The dragon flew to the left then the right. Gilbert watched for a pattern. Swing left, now right, now dive. Yes, he had it in his grasp. Sir Robert and the trainer weakly thrust their swords as the monster dove at them. The creature had weakened its prey, swiping at them with its claw and sending down fire.

  Gilbert shouted. The sudden sound distracted the creature and forced it to expose its vital organs. Drawing his bow back with all his strength, Gilbert released the arrow. It soared straight for the villain’s heart. Inches from penetration, the dragon lifted into the air. The arrow struck slightly lower than Gilbert hoped. The monster bellowed a thunderous roar that shook the Banyan Tree Forest. Green slime oozed from the dragon’s chest like a shower. It wobbled in flight, squealing a hideous cry as it dipped close to the ground, then lifted slightly until it escaped the battleground.

  Gilbert stood stunned for a second. He did it. He stopped the attack.

  The squires cheered. They partnered together and did their fist bump salute. Ben slapped the king’s back. “Your arrow wounded the dragon. It might die yet tonight. Congratulations. You stopped the attack.”

  “Let’s not be fooled. Stand watch. It may return.” They formed a circle with their backs facing each other and watched the sky, waiting for the dragon. After a time, Gilbert said, “Stand down. Check the injured.”

  They broke the circle and rushed to the fallen. Sir Robert lay faced down on the ground. “Sir Robert?” Gilbert kneeled by his side.

  He kicked pieces of melted shield out of the way. “Sir Robert, the dragon is gone. How bad are your wounds? Sir Robert?” Gilbert pushed the knight’s left shoulder until he lay on his back. Severe burns covered the brave man from his head to his feet. The sight upset Gilbert’s stomach. He pressed his hand over his mouth and looked away for a moment.

  Sir Robert gave no response. Gilbert pressed his head against the warrior’s chest hoping for the slightest breath. “You survived the dragon attack at the picnic.” No response. He shook Sir Robert’s shoulders. “Come on. Wake up. The battle is over.” The knight didn’t respond. Gilbert held his hand over Sir Robert’s mouth and didn’t feel his breath.

  “No. No. No. This can’t be.” He turned and called to his friend. “Ben! Come quick. Sir Robert is dead.”

  Daniel stumbled to the king’s side. “Sire, I have a report. The trainer…he, um, also perished in the battle.”

  “Are you sure? We can’t have lost them both.” He stumbled over to where the trainer lay on the ground and saw the mortal wound and spilled blood. Gilbert closed his eyes and s
lowly released a breath.

  Jonathon approached Gilbert and sighed. “Sybil, Ben, and Charles have wounds. They’re not serious but need immediate care to prevent them from getting worse.”

  Justin helped the steward to a sitting position. “His leg is hurt, and he has deep bruises.”

  Katia grabbed the satchel with herbs and bandages then set to work washing and dressing their wounds. Once she finished caring for their medical needs, Ben, Charles, and Sybil corralled the horses. They spoke softly and patted the mares’ necks while counting them. Ben walked through the pack of animals. “Has anyone seen Pokey?”

  Charles and Sybil called back. “She’s not over here.”

  Ben hopped on Good Knight. “Find Pokey,” he commanded his horse. Good Knight galloped to the west across the field. Ben searched behind trees and bushes to the left and right, calling to her. After combing the entire field, he returned. “Any sign of her yet?”

  Charles shook his head. “No.”

  Ben nudged Good Knight with his heels. “I have to find her. She could be hurt. Search north, along the river, Good Knight.”

  “Wait.” Charles ran to his horse. “You can’t ride that direction by yourself. It’s too dangerous.” He hopped on his mare and urged her on. “Sybil, keep an eye on the horses. I’m going to help him.” He commanded his ride to go. “Wait up for me, Ben.” Their voices faded as they rode away along the river.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Gilbert assigned clean up tasks and helped while Ben and Charles searched for Pokey. Once they finished clearing the mess, they listened for Charles and Ben. Daniel took two steps into the river and looked to the north. “Where are they?”

  “I don’t remember them taking their bows,” Justin said. I’m not going after them. Not there.”

  Daniel shrugged. “Don’t worry. With that green ooze all over them, they’ll blend in with the scenery. I’m sure they’ll be back soon. In the meantime, I’m going to wash this dragon slime off before finishing my chores.”

  “Good idea.” Jonathon picked at the globs of ooze on his skin. They walked down to the river. The blood washed off fairly easily but stained some of their skin an odd shade of green.

  Justin flicked droplets from his hands and walked up to the herd. “Sybil, I’ll take over the horses. You can wash up in the river.”

  “Thanks.” She left her post, sat at the water’s edge, and scrubbed her skin.

  Daniel and Jonathon finished cleaning the goo off of themselves. They took over the care of their horses, patting their animals’ necks, speaking gentle words, and cleaning dragon mess off their coats.

  “They’re back,” Sybil called out.

  Ben and Charles splashed along the shore with Pokey in tow. Ben leaped off Good Knight and rushed toward Gilbert. “Sire, you won’t believe what we found.”

  After losing the trainer and Sir Robert, Gilbert wasn’t in the mood for his joking. “You found Pokey.”

  Ben edged closer. “Well, yes, we found Pokey. And we found something else.”

  “What was it?”

  “Along the riverbed, there were pools of dragon blood, the same green ooze that sprayed on us. Fear warned me not to call out to that crazy packhorse just in case another dragon hid behind a tree. Up the river, Charles and I came to a clearing where we found a smoldering fire, two cups, scraps of bandaging, and another pool of dragon blood.”

  Gilbert furrowed his brows. “Those two spies are following us.”

  Charles gathered the squires around him and told them what they saw.

  Gilbert whispered softly to Ben, “This may sound weird, but I think those spies spearheaded this attack that killed Sir Robert and the trainer. It’s like they have control over the dragons.”

  “I think so, too, sire. It seems they plan to stop our mission. If that is the case, none of us will survive if we continue to the Valley of Sharon.”

  Gilbert whispered, “I know. How can we go on without the trainer or Sir Robert? We only have five squires, two knights, a cook, and a steward left.”

  He stood and kicked the dirt. A memory of Count Godwin’s words played in his heart. “Have you chosen to ask for the Great King’s help? The dangers may not be as severe if you do.” He pressed his hands over his ears to drive away the nagging words. He kicked another clump of dirt and accidentally sprayed some on Ben. “Sorry.”

  Ben brushed off the dirt. “Let’s walk to the river and wash off the dragon slime.”

  Gilbert nodded. “That’s a good idea.” When they came out of the water, he paused to watch Katia apply healing herbs and bandages to the steward, and the squires tending the horses. He cleared his throat. “We need to bury our dead.”

  The squires leaned against their horses and closed their eyes. This was their first real battle. Gilbert walked to them. “We’re all tired and have been through a lot. But these men deserve our respect.”

  Those not severely wounded grabbed shovels and jammed them into the ground. Charles scooped dirt from the hole. “We should turn back before the rest of us get killed.” He eyed the others as if gathering support. A small dark cloud rolled in, covering a section of the sun’s warm rays like a big black spot in the middle of a white sheet of paper. Shovelfuls of dirt flew into the air, onto their feet, into their eyes, and back into the hole.

  They couldn’t give up now. If they camped for the night, the squires would push to return to the castle. Gilbert picked up a shovel and dug alongside them.

  Charles tossed the dirt off his shovel and leaned on it. “I think we should pack and go back to the castle first thing in the morning.”

  “I don’t feel like going anywhere.” Justin sat down. “I hurt and am tired. Everyone’s tired. The steward can’t travel very well, and the horses are jittery. I say we camp by the river for a few days and rest.”

  Jonathon fumed at his brother. “Then what? Wait for another dragon to attack? This place isn’t safe. We need to leave.”

  “Hold it, hold it.” Ben held his hands out toward them to prevent a brawl. “Jonathon is right. We need to leave this place. I don’t think returning to the castle is the best choice, though. We’re certain to be labeled failures if we go back without the rose.”

  Sybil pushed Jonathon aside to get in front. “You want to continue the quest? Really? You realize we have no experienced personnel left in our group? I don’t feel qualified to tackle this mission without someone showing us what to do.”

  Daniel sat on the ground. One by one, the others dropped their shovels and sat with him. Daniel pulled a piece of thistle and plucked the petals. “I don’t feel bad about returning without the rose. We’re only squires. Who really expects us to fulfill the duty of a knight? We should return to the castle first thing in the morning.”

  Gilbert let them share and grumble then said, “Let’s finish burying our dead then talk some more.”

  The survivors helped each other stand and finish the digging. When they completed the burial, they placed special stones to mark each grave and gathered around the mounds of earth. Sybil and Justin helped the steward walk to the circle.

  The oldest person remaining in the group was the steward. He looked at those standing with him. “I will take over the ceremony, sire. If any of you want to say something in memory of Sir Robert or the trainer, you may.”

  Ben said, “I will. The trainer served as my father these last eight years. He pushed us to do our best and guided us through difficult situations.” He sat back down. The other squires gave speeches honoring the trainer. When Katia and Steward finished speaking, Gilbert honored Sir Robert at length.

  After his last word, those who survived sighed and stared blankly. Gilbert's shoulders slumped with the others. He either had to say something encouraging or give up the quest. He looked at the horizon. What these survivors needed most was to leave this place. “I’ve considered your comments about this quest and have made a decision. We’ll cross the river. Right now.”

  The squires looked
at each other.

  “Since the sun will set soon, we need to get moving. Saddle up, load the supplies, and mount your horses.”

  “King Gilbert,” Squire Charles said. “We aren’t knights.”

  The steward hobbled two steps forward. “You may not feel you can continue this journey at this time. Might I remind you that disobedience to the king, even in its smallest measure, will dash any hope of receiving an appointment to knighthood in Aerlis? You do realize that kings possess the power to grant this highly esteemed position?” He waited for them to nod. “Of course you do. As I intend to document actions worthy of such an appointment to help the king decide, you wouldn’t want me to record any disrespect, would you? Hmmmm?” He looked at the squires. “I thought not.” He stepped back and leaned against a tree then nodded at Gilbert.

  The team reluctantly saddled their horses and packed the provisions. Gilbert released the trainer’s and Sir Robert’s horses, chasing them back toward the castle. Their leaving, without riders, stabbed his heart one last time. Not one more life would be sacrificed on this quest. He would fight harder, give his own life if need be to heal his kingdom. He commanded the steward to ride in the middle of the group, near Katia. Jonathon and Sybil volunteered to help the wounded steward up on his saddle.

  “Give me Pokey’s reins, if anyone can get her across the water it’s Promise. Let’s ride.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  They entered the cool waters of the one-hundred-foot wide river. Slippery rocks caused the horses to struggle with their footing. The riders encouraged their mares with gentle words and tender strokes to keep them moving. Still, the horses whinnied and pulled back when swift currents sped past their legs.

  Gilbert leaned forward. “Promise, we need to get these mares safely across the river. They will follow if you lead. Set your sight on the other side. See the patches of green grass?” Promise whinnied. “A fine treat awaits you, my friend.” He patted her neck and sat back.