Dragon In The Needles

by Bruce Leslie

  “Of course.” The Abbot smiled wide with his arms crossed in front of him, his hands hidden under the robe’s sleeves.

  One of the guards ordered, “Move slowly!” He wagged the tip of his glaive at the Lump.

  The Abbot tilted his head. “These are perilous times, can’t be too careful.” He looked over at the empty tower. “I had to send my brothers away for their own safety.”

  “I understand.” The Lump nodded in agreement. “I was scared half to death making the trip here by myself.” He took one step toward his mule then held his arms out wide and began stumbling. “Oh, no!” He spun around in a circle. “Sol, help me! It’s happening again.” He fell to the ground with a heavy thud. He landed on his back and kicked his legs up in the air before rolling side to side. “Why won’t the ground stand still?” He pawed at the soil around him.

  The four men-at-arms laughed heartily, their heads bounced up and down in amusement. It seemed to be their first good laugh in ages and they wanted to enjoy it to its fullest.

  The Lump called up from his spot on the ground. “Abbot, help me, please!” He raised a hand.

  The smile left the Abbot’s face, replaced with a look of concern. “You seem to have some sort of affliction, my son.”

  “Oh, it’s awful!” The Lump continued to roll around on the ground. “Sometimes when I move, the world spins around me. I was told you might help.” He clasped his hands in front if him. “I’m begging you.”

  “Well, certainly,” the Abbot pulled a hand from his sleeve and held it out. “If I could just have the writ, please.”

  The Lump rolled onto his hands and knees and tried to rise. He stumbled again and fell flat on his belly.

  The Abbot waved a hand at the men-at-arms. “You men, go help the fellow.”

  Three guards went to assist the Lump, one remained by the Abbot’s side. The men pulled up hard on the Lump’s arms. He rose and stumbled, then fell heavily against two of the guards. They struggled with his weight.

  The Lump caught a glance of two moving figures from the corner of his eye. Flynn and Meena ran quietly into the tower while all eyes were fixed on his antics. The Lump let his legs go limp and fell to the ground again as the guards struggled to lift him.

  “Perhaps you should let one of the guards retrieve the writ,” the Abbot suggested.

  “But I know where it is.” The Lump looked over at Tilley. “The mule isn’t fond of strangers.”

  The Abbot said, “Just tell the man where the writ is.”

  A guard approached the mule. “You be easy beast.” He looked to the Lump. “Where’s the writ?”

  “Well, I’d have to dig around for it.” The Lump climbed to his feet, stumbled, and fell again. This time he brought a guard down with him.

  Tilley snapped her teeth at a guard next to her as he attempted to reach for a bag tied across her haunches. She brayed and snorted, a sticky fluid sprayed from her nose onto the man.

  “Oh, forget the cursed writ!” The Abbot waved his hand through the air. “This man has lost his equilibrium, it’s a very grave malady.” He turned and walked toward the tower’s entrance. “Let’s get him inside, I need to retrieve a text from the library in order to help this man.”

  “Inside? No!” The Lump’s heart pounded in his chest while his mind raced to think of something. “Can’t we stay out here? That place, uh, it looks frightening.”

  “Don’t be foolish, man.” A guard gripped the Lump’s arm. “That tower is the most secure place in the whole of the Northwest.” He tugged at him to urge him along.

  The Abbot turned to address the three men-at-arms surrounding the Lump. “Bring him in, drag him gently if he can’t walk.” He turned and resumed walking to the tower.

  The Lump took a deep breath and shouted. “Oh no, it’s the bees! Meena, it’s the bees!” He took another deep breath and bellowed some more. “Four of them bees, with great big stingers!”

  One of the guards squeezed the Lump’s arm. “What is this nonsense about bees? Who is Meena?” He shook him.

  The Abbot turned back to the Lump. “It’s worse than I feared, he’s gone mad.” He looked at the ground for a moment. “You may need to restrain him for his own benefit.” He turned and continued toward the abbey door.

  “It’s them bees, Meena!” The Lump shouted as the men-at-arms dragged him to the tower. “Flee!”

  The Lump got to his feet and cooperated as the guards pulled him into the tower. He was led down a wide corridor. There were candles hanging on the walls to light the way. Even during midmorning, the sun didn’t make its way to this central hall. He felt overcome with helplessness as the Abbot approached a wooden door marked with black letters that read Library.

  The Lump heard the Abbot gasp when he opened the door.

  Flynn was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by books that had been hastily pulled off the shelves. His hands were raised in the air, Meena was nowhere to be seen.

  One of the men-at arms lowered his glaive and held it inches from Flynn’s chest. “Don’t move!”

  “What treachery is this?” The Abbot’s face turned bright red. “Have these men confined to one of the empty chambers.” His eyes narrowed and he surveyed the books strewn across the floor. “Two guards will stand watch over them at all times.” He picked up one of the smaller volumes and inspected it. “I’ll make arrangements to have them sent to Molgadon.” He stood close to Flynn and looked him in the eyes. “If there is a single volume missing…” The Abbot turned his back to Flynn and walked over to the Lump. “I pity the torments you will endure during your interrogations by His Radiance.” A sinister smile came upon his face. “There are very foul things in your future, indeed.”

  19: Escape

  The Lump sat on the floor of the bare cell. The room was empty, save for a tarnished, brass chamberpot in the corner. He and Flynn had nowhere to sit other than the ground beneath them, they leaned on the cold stone wall to support their backs. The entire room was cold, since it didn’t have a fire in it. As a matter of fact, the room didn’t even have a hearth. Solsons must be accustomed to cold nights. The wooden door at the chamber’s entrance was closed and locked from the outside. Two men-at-arms stood guard just beyond the room, keeping watch at either side of the door. Above the Lump’s head was a wide window, covered with the recently added iron bars.

  Flynn had surrendered his armor and rope, and sat clad in his flowered blue tunic. This only added to the despair he felt after his sword had been stolen. The Lump was still wearing his boiled leather vest and cap. His sword was back at the group’s camp, safely hidden amongst the trees on a nearby hill.

  The Lump didn’t mind sitting in silence, but he needed to know something. “Where did Meena go?” he asked.

  “She found the tome.” Flynn sat on the floor with his knees pulled up in front of him. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and continued in a low voice. “Then she heard you carrying on about bees.” He looked at the ceiling and put a finger on his chin. “I think she called you a foul smelling idiot.”

  The Lump responded in a loud voice. “I don’t smell foul!”

  A guard shouted from beyond the door. “You two, keep quiet in there!”

  Flynn leaned close to the Lump and whispered. “She tossed the book out of the window.” He paused for a moment and listened for any reaction from the guards. “Then she squeezed between the bars, and slid out the window herself.”

  The Lump cupped his hand by his mouth and spoke in a low voice. “Really? She fit through them?”

  Flynn forgot to whisper when he answered. “She was like a cat, I tell you. She never fails to surprise me.”

  The guard shouted through the door again. “Be quiet! I will come in there and gag you!”

  The Lump shouted back at the door. “As long as you promise to leave your pointy sticks outside, come on in and try!”

  Flynn spoke in a once again hushed voice. “Don’t agitate them!”

  The Lump respo
nded loud enough for the guards to hear. “They aren’t going to do anything.” He turned to Flynn and grinned. “The Abbot would have them thrown into the dungeons…” He spoke a little louder. “… if they killed unarmed men…” His voice grew louder still. “..confined to a cell…” He shouted. “…for talking!”

  “I heard that!” The voice beyond the door responded. “Don’t think I won’t come in there!”

  The Lump shouted at the door again. “Best be careful if you do.” He looked at Flynn, then back to the door. “My handsome friend here is the Hero of Aardland!”

  The guard called back, “The hero died more than a dozen years ago.” After a short pause he added, “Every child knows that.”

  “He’s the new one.” The Lump’s smile grew as he shouted. “He’s the old one’s son.”

  The guard’s voice came through the door with a derisive tone. “Quit telling your lies. He’s too young to be the son of Silas the Swift.”

  A second voice, belonging to the other guard, followed. “The way I heard it, the hero’s son is a big man that lives down in Windthorne.” He paused, then continued with a faint chuckle. “I’d believe it was you before him.”

  The Lump’s head bounced up and down as he laughed.

  Flynn leaned in close and whispered a question. “Why did you tell him that?”

  The Lump stopped laughing and whispered back. “I’ve had a rough run of fortune lately, I thought I needed a laugh.” He put a hand on his shoulder. “I was bitten by a snake, remember?”

  Flynn’s voice became loud again. “I was mauled by a catamount!” He fell back into a whisper. “And then I was stabbed with a flaming hot dagger.” He raised his eyebrows. “Don’t forget about Meena, she nearly drowned.”

  The Lump looked down to the floor. “Yes, I guess we could all use a laugh.”

  Flynn looked around the room, as if someone else in the cell could have gone unnoticed. He whispered his quietest whisper yet. “When the guards prepare to take us to Molgadon, do you think we could overpower them and escape?”

  The Lump sat quietly for a moment with his eyebrows low over his eyes before he answered. “Perhaps, but why would we?”

  Flynn’s eyes grew wide. “Because they want to throw us into a dungeon and torture us.”

  The Lump shook his head. “They won’t torture us, not if we just tell them what happened.”

  Flynn tilted his head and his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  The Lump held his hands apart in front of him. “I mean, we tell them the whole story, then they won’t need to torture us.”

  Flynn asked, “But what about Meena? Won’t they go after her for stealing the tome?”

  The Lump looked at Flynn and raised his eyebrows. “Do you think the King will send men-at-arms into the Needles?” He turned his face away from Flynn and looked at the door. “There is a dragon lurking there, after all.”

  “I suppose not.” Flynn lowered his head.

  “The Order of Sol may want that book back.” The Lump stroked his bearded chin. “But the King isn’t going to risk a war with Gallis to get it.”

  Flynn lifted his head and asked, “But what about the Dragon?” He crossed his arms across his knees in front of him. “She’s depending on us to stop it.”

  “She has the book.” The Lump unbent his knees and stretched his legs on the floor in front of him, then crossed them. “It’ll tell her how to get rid of the dragon.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the cold, hard wall behind him.

  Flynn said, “You can’t stop a dragon with just a book, you know.”

  “She’ll show it to the crone.” The Lump didn’t open his eyes when he spoke. “The crone will help her figure something out…that crone is a clever one.” His eyes shot open. He looked at Flynn and pointed. “Did you know she had already figured out how to get rid of those snakes?”

  “Yes, I was there.” Flynn rolled his eyes around in their sockets in a big, slow arc. “Forget the snakes. Meena needs us, there are brigands afoot.”

  “She’s got her dagger, the crone’s staff, and your horse.” The Lump leaned back and closed his eyes again. “She’ll be fine. You know as well as I do that she’s no damsel in distress.”

  “She is quite capable.” Flynn nodded his head. “However, we did make a promise to her.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” The Lump waved his hand once through the air, eyes still closed. “I’d gamble she’s half a day’s ride from here by now. The last thing she’s worried about is us.”

  The Lump heard a soft clinking sound. It was followed by another, and he opened his eyes. Two small pebbles were on the floor in front of him. A third flew through the window and landed on the floor. He stood up to look through the window’s bars and a fourth pebble hit him on the nose. He saw Meena standing outside the window with the hood of her cloak pulled over her head. She had several more pebbles in her hand.

  The Lump whispered, “Meena!” He reached down and tapped Flynn on the shoulder. “Meena’s outside.” He nodded his head sideways at the window.

  Flynn stood and looked out the window. “And you said she was halfway to Bleuderry.”

  The Lump wrapped his hand around two of the bars. “What are you doing here?”

  Meena looked up at them and spoke in a quiet voice, just above a whisper. “I came to rescue you!”

  The Lump looked down at the floor, then back out the barred window. “How do you plan to do that?”

  “With Tilley!” She said, “The men-at-arms were unable to corral her, but she came right to me when I called.” Meena turned to the side and beckoned and the mule sauntered into view. “Tracer is still hitched to a tree in camp. I checked on him and he’s fine.”

  The Lump looked over at Flynn and whispered, “Go talk to the guards so they don’t hear Meena.”

  Flynn turned his face to the Lump and wrinkled his brow. “What shall I talk to them about?”

  “I don’t know, anything.” The Lump looked up at the ceiling then back to Flynn. “Go talk to them about glaives for all I care, just keep them occupied.”

  Flynn walk over to the door, tapped on it, and spoke with a booming voice. “I couldn’t help but notice that your glaives are very nice!”

  The guards muttered something back through the wooden door.

  The Lump pressed his face against the iron bars. “You should hurry and be on your way. Don’t worry about us, you’ll get yourself captured.” He leaned back from the bars and looked over his shoulder. He saw Flynn conversing at the door and turned back to the window. “You’ll have it worse than we will.”

  “Oh, no!” Meena’s eyes became blue and green slits and she pointed a finger up at him. “Just because you went and got yourself captured doesn’t mean you are relieved of your responsibilities!” She crossed her arms in front of her. “You will fulfill your obligations!”

  The Lump looked down and shook his head, then looked back out the window. “You’re not going to leave without us, are you?”

  Meena scowled up at him. “Under no circumstances!”

  The Lump asked, “Well, how are you going to rescue us with a mule?”

  Flynn’s voice echoed through the empty room. “I’ll have you know I was trained at sword by a former man-at-arms…”

  Meena uncrossed her arms and pointed at the window’s bars. “I will use her to pull the bars off.” She held up an empty hand. “Can you give me Flynn’s rope?”

  The Lump shook his head. “They took it from him.”

  “But I need a rope!” Meena tightened her lips in frustration.

  “Are you sure you won’t just leave us?” the Lump asked.

  “I already told you, not by any circumstance.” Meena answered with her arms again crossed.

  Flynn’s voice continued to fill the room. “Do you know who quilted your gambesons? The stitching looked very nice.”

  The Lump stuck one hand through the bars and pointed towards the front of the abbey. “Did yo
u see that well out there?”

  “Yes,” Meena answered.

  The Lump pulled his hand back in and gripped the bars. “The Abbot dropped a rope by it earlier, it may still be there.”

  “I’ll go see.” Meena darted off.

  At the chamber door Flynn asked, “Do you find the chain-mail more comfortable than plate armor?” He paused to hear the guards’ responses. “I do appreciate the security of my breastplate, but it can be so restrictive. Sometimes a man just wants to be able to breathe.”

  “It was there!” Meena returned with the rope and held it up to the window.

  The Lump grabbed the end of the rope and looped it several times around the top of the bars before tying it into a strong knot. “This is going to make a racket, we’ll need to be quick about it.” He turned around and beckoned to Flynn.

  Flynn spoke through the door. “I’m sorry, I need to use the chamberpot. We can resume our conversation shortly.” He walked over to the window.

  Meena looped the other end of the rope under Tilley’s front legs and around the mule’s shoulders, forming a harness.

  “Alright, let her pull.” The Lump took his hands off the bars and stepped back.

  Tilley began walking forward and the rope became taut behind her. The mule kept moving ahead and there were two loud popping sounds as the bolts holding the iron bars broke free of the stone.

  “Quick now!” The Lump shouted and boosted Flynn to the window.

  After Flynn slid through the opening, the wooden door to the cell swung open. The Lump pulled his weight up to the window and slid out head first. As his feet cleared the window’s edge, he heard the sound of steel striking stone. He landed on his head and rolled over to his feet.

  Shouts rang out from inside the chamber. “Escape! All arms around the wall!”

  Meena and Flynn ran for the trail leading up to their hidden camp. The Lump and Tilley followed, a rope tied to a grate of iron bars dragged the ground behind them. The group rounded to the tower’s rear to get onto the trail. Two men-at-arms were already there, barring their way with glaives pointed. The two guards that had been inside the chamber came up behind them.