The Last Stand of the Dragon

by Hanson, N. J.

  The dragon’s eyes caught the light from the blade. It blinked swiftly and recoiled, the sheep slipped from its jaws and landed with a flump in the snow. Richard jumped the fence and charged at the distracted creature, the sword held firmly in both hands. He swung with all his strength, the blade sliced through the air in an arch around him.

  The dragon reared up on its hind legs, the pointed tip slit a tiny sliver across its chest and a droplet of blood oozed out. The dragon stared hatefully down at Richard, a deep rumbling growl echoed in its throat.

  With a swing of its front paw, the dragon caught Richard by the shoulder and sent him spiraling to the ground. The talons, each as thick and strong as meat hooks, tore into his skin and ripped away at his flesh. A jolt of pain shot through his body, the sword flew from his hands, and he landed face first in the snow.

  The dragon pulled it claws from his body and stepped away from him. It grabbed the lifeless body of the ewe, flared its wings, and pushed off from the ground. It lifted back up into the air, leaving Richard’s body motionless in the snow.

  Chapter 1 1

  R ichard lay unmoving on the ground. The pearl white snow around him slowly turned red as blood flowed from the open wound. The villagers watched from a distance as the dragon flew away. Once it was gone, a crowd gathered around the sheep pen. Soft whispers and murmurs emanated from the people.

  “Richard!” A voice cried out from the crowd. People moved and stepped aside as Rachel forced her way through. She emerged from the gathering and saw Richard’s motionless form. “Oh, my… Lord, please, no.”

  She climbed over the fence, raced to his side, and knelt down in the snow beside him. Her hands trembled before her eyes as she held them over his back. She feared to touch him, afraid he might already by dead, but she still placed her hands gently on his back. “Richard?” Her voice was low and tender. “Please, say something.”

  A muffled groan escaped his lips. “Have got to… send a rider. Need to… tell… Ardose.” Richard squirmed, he tried to push himself up, but his hand slipped and he fell back to the snow. A gasp arose from the crowd as he fell again.

  “Don’t try to move. You’ve been badly hurt.” Rachel said. “Someone! I need help!” She shouted to the gathered villagers. “We have to get him to the healer!”

  “He has been tainted with the poison of the Devil.” The priest emerged from the crowd. He was dressed in long, brown robes which reached to his feet and covered his hands. A large, gold cross dangled around his neck. The top of his head was shaven clean, and he walked with a hunch. “The dragon is a beast from the depths of Hell, a servant of the Devil, himself. The very skin of such a monster is tainted with evil, and now that evil is in his veins. He must be brought to the church and beg for God’s grace and forgiveness.”

  “He’ll die if we don’t get him to the healer first!” Tears flowed down Rachel’s face. “Father Josef, please! If we can save his life first, then we can save his soul.”

  The priest gave a small nod. “Very well. Men, help the lady. Take the boy to Helga.”

  Two men climbed over the fence and took Richard carefully in their arms. They carried him as gently as they could; blood still flowed down his arm and into the snow, leaving a trail of red behind. Rachel walked beside them the whole way, tears still falling from her eyes.

  They came to the home of Helga, the master of medicine and healer of the village. Rachel threw the door open as the men carried Richard’s limp body inside.

  Helga, an old and very heavy woman, sat in a rocking chair by the fire with a pair of crochet needles and a basket of yarn beside her. “What is it you want?” She groaned.

  “Helga, it’s Richard!” Rachel said. “He’s badly hurt. There was a dragon! It attacked Sir Ardose’s sheep and he tried to stop it, but it gouged him with its claws and now he’s bleeding to death!”

  The clinking of Helga’s crochet needles stopped. She set them down in the basket beside her and stood up, the chair groaning as the weight lifted off it. “Let me have a look at him.”

  She pulled the ragged remains of his coat aside and looked at the gashes in his shoulder. “Set him up in the guest room, lay him down with the wound facing up.” She ordered. As the men did so, she took Rachel aside. “I’ll need your help with this. I can’t move as fast as I used to anymore. Are you willing, child?”

  “Of course, I’ll do anything.” Rachel said without hesitation.

  “Good.” Helga gave Rachel her instruction. “Take that pot, the one hanging above the fire. Do be careful to grab a rag or something before trying to lift it. I need that filled with water and placed back over the fire.”

  Rachel did as she was told, filling the pot with snow from outside before hanging it back on the hook over the glowing embers and burning wood.

  “Once all that melts and begins to boil, take all the cleans towels and rags I have in and put them in the water. We’ll need that to cleanse the wounds.” The old woman instructed. “Feed the fire, while you’re at it. I do believe it is getting cold in here again.”

  The snow in the pot melted quickly over the fire, and soon it began to boil. With all the rags soaked in the warm water, Helga gave Rachel more instructions. “Now, take that pot again and bring it into the guest room. Oh, before you do that, take that cautery iron there and set it in the coals. We’ll need that shortly.”

  The iron was a long shaft of metal like a fire pit poker, but with a flat metal plate at the end instead of a point. Rachel new exactly what it was going to be used for, she’d seen branding done on cattle and horses. She stuck in into the red hot coals, and then wrapped her hands with a towel to grab the handle of the pot.

  She and Helga moved into the room where Richard was being kept. His left arm was a net of blood from shoulder to fingertips. Helga had Rachel take Richard’s shirt off, and then taking the towels gingerly from the hot water, dabbed them on the gash in his back. Richard tensed and squirmed, but the two men that carried him in held him down while Helga cleaned the wound. By the time she was done cleaning it, all the towels had been soaked through with blood. “Now, Rachel, could you bring me the iron?”

  Rachel did as she was asked. She took the metal shaft, the end of which now glowed red, and placed the cool end in Helga’s outstretched hand. With little warning or consideration, the healer pressed the red hot metal plate against Richard’s wound.

  Richard bit down on the pillow and cried out in pain. He tensed and tried to pull away, but those holding him in place were too strong. The pain was unimaginable, the smell of burning flesh was unbearable. Once the plate was pulled away, Richard lost consciousness and collapsed on the bed.

  Helga looked down at her handy work. The skin around the burn was red and raw, but it would heal in time. The important thing was that the bleeding had stopped. The water in the pot had turned pink from all the blood soaked rags. The healer cooled the cautering iron by dipping it in the bloody water, where it hissed and sputtered as steam rose off from the hot metal.

  “Well, gentlemen and lady,” Helga said, “I must now ask you to leave. He requires his rest now, and that is best done when no one unnecessary is around.”

  “Will he be alright?” Rachel asked.

  Helga nodded. “He’ll be fine. He just needs time to heal and recover his strength.”

  A low whisper came from Richard as he lay in bed. Rachel and Helga stopped instantly, waiting for him to speak again. “Jade.” He moaned. “Dragon.”

  “Jade dragon?” Helga asked. “What do you suppose that means?”

  Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know. The dragon that attacked had a sort of pale green color to it.”

  “Hm.” Helga thought. “Jade, the dragon.”

  Chapter 1 2

  H igh above the village, the dragon, now called Jade although she did not care, pushed her powerful wings up and down through the air. The lifeless body of the ewe dangled limply from her mouth. Stolen from humans. As she flew over the entrance of her cave, she
dropped the sheep to the ground where it landed with a flop in the snow.

  A part of her hated herself for this. Having to steal from humans to survive. It was disgraceful. She was supposed to be the most powerful creature on the planet. Her ancestors once hunted the great mammoth caravans across Europe and Siberia, now she could barely survive by stealing livestock.

  Jade descended to the ground. She banked her wings and landed softly, her feet sank into the snow and her wings folded tight against her body.

  Just as she picked up the sheep in her jaws and carried it inside. She brought it all the way down to her rock nest. Smoke rose from the smoldering remains of the coals. She dropped the sheep and breathed another short stream of fire on the nest. Then she set the wool of the sheep ablaze. As the wool burned away, she snapped at the lightly charred flesh and tore small chunks away with her claws.

  A small squeak came from the nest. Jade froze in place. She didn’t move, didn’t breath, didn’t blink. She just waited and listened. Part of her thought she might have imagined it, a hopeful wish that this egg had not died like the other.

  Another chirp emanated from the nest, and soon another. Jade dropped the sheep and moved over to the pile of smoldering rocks. She pawed at the stones to dislodge them and reveal the egg. A tiny crack appeared in the shell. The quiet chirps came from the within as the crack grew thicker and longer; the baby inside struggling for freedom.

  Jade rolled the egg out of the nest and watched it intently. The still burning carcass of the sheep lay forgotten off to the side. The egg wobbled and shook as the small shell pieces fell away. A tiny snout pushed its way out.

  Jade waited eagerly as her baby slowly clawed its way out of the egg. It took over an hour for the hatchling to free itself from the broken shell of its egg. It slid onto the ground still covered in the embryonic fluid. Jade moved in over her hatchling and licked across the baby’s face, then over the rest of its body to clean it off. It squirmed and wriggled under its mother’s tongue.

  The hatchling stood up for the first time, its wide eyes blinked furiously as it took in its first sights. It chirped at its mother, who growled in response.

  Jade nuzzled her snout against the hatchling. It was a female, and tiny compared to the mother. Its head barely reached up to Jade’s knee. Its horns were only small nubs and its wings were tiny.

  The baby chirped for food. Fresh out of the egg and already hungry. Jade led it over to the sheep carcass and tore a small piece of flesh away. The hatchling snapped it up eagerly and had it swallowed in three huge bites. It went back for more food, trying to claw and bite another piece off, but failing to do so. Jade tore another small chunk away and gave it to the hatchling. They continued to feed in this way until the baby was full. It curled up next to its mother and quickly fell asleep.

  Jade lay with the hatchling nestled up next to her. She set her wing over the baby like an enormous bird. Her heart filled with an animalistic sense of pride. This was her child, her hatchling. Nothing would take her away from this baby, and she would fight, kill, or die to protect it.

  ***

  Richard awoke on a straw mattress with quilts and blankets layered on top of him. He was sweaty, his body felt week and sore. The pressure from the blankets seemed to hold him down.

  A patch of sunlight filtered in though the window above his bed. Just as he turned his head to look outside, a lightning strike of pain coursed though his body, starting from the shoulder. The winced and his eyes clamped shut, tears seeped out through the closed lids.

  Moving slowly, he reached his right arm across his chest and over his lift shoulder. He felt the skin change from its usual texture to a rough scab along his back. Another wave of pain washed over him and he withdrew his hand.

  “I wouldn’t touch it if I were you.” Helga sat in a rocking chair in the corner of the room watching him. It was only after she spoke that Richard noticed her. She had her crochet needles and her basket of yarn. “I am glad to see you’re awake, however. For a while we were afraid you might not live.”

  “How long have I been here?” Richard asked.

  “This is the third day.” Helga said without looking up from her work. “You were asleep for most of it, but you briefly had a fever last night. It broke this morning. It’s actually a miracle you’re alive at all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That hole Jade tore in you was huge. If Rachel hadn’t insisted in bringing you here instead of the church, you’d be dead now.” Helga explained.

  Richard rested his head back down on the pillow. “That’s good to know.” His brow scrunched and he sat back up. “Who’s ‘Jade’?”

  “That’s the name you gave the dragon, of course.” Helga said.

  “Name? I never gave it a name.”

  “You did when you were brought here.” Helga looped another notch in her yarn. “Granted, you were delirious and asleep, but the name has stuck. Now that’s what everyone is calling it.”

  Richard shook his head. He pressed the palm of his hand against he eyes and gave a heavy sigh. “I don’t care what they decide to call it. I just know it has to be destroyed.” He kicked the blankets off the best he could and tried to climb out of bed. His legs refused to support him, however, and he fell back onto the mattress.

  “Don’t try to stand or walk yet, you're still recovering.” Helga said. She still didn’t move or look up from the needles in her hands. “It’s best if you stay in that bed for at least another day.”

  “What about the dragon? Has it returned?” He asked.

  “It has not. We’ve been fortunate so far.”

  He sighed. “I have to get up. I have to send a messenger. Sir Ardose needs to know what’s going on.”

  “Riders have already been sent out.” The door creaked open and Rachel stepped inside. The sleeves of her tunic were pulled up over her elbows and she carried a wooden bucket full of hot water and towels in both hands. Her normally unruly red hair was tied up in a bun behind her head. She smiled when she saw Richard. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”

  “I’m not feeling great, though.” He said. The corners of his lips perked up when he saw her.

  “Rachel’s been helping me care for you while you’ve been resting.” Helga said. “She’s actually a very competent nurse.”

  “That’s nice.” Richard groaned.

  He grabbed the blankets with his good hand and tried to pull them over himself, but didn’t get them very far. Rachel set the bucket of water down and helped him. “Here. You’re still recovering. You lost a lot of blood.” Once she had him tucked into bed, she took one of the towels from the bucket and used it to dab his face.

  Richard felt the warm soft fabric press against his skin. The heat was soothing to the touch. He watched as Rachel doted over him, her face was flush red, no doubt from the exertion of caring for him for past few days. Having her face so close to his own made him feel warm, much warmer than even the layers of blankets and the hot water on his face did.

  The more he watched Rachel, the more he thought about the secret he kept, the one Ardose had asked him to keep and the possible connection it had to her missing brother. Richard hadn’t gotten to assemble that search party before the dragon came, and now he felt the need to confess.

  “Rachel,” he said after great hesitation, “there’s something I think you should know. I really think the villagers might need to know it too, but I can’t tell them yet.”

  Rachel stopped with her hand pressed against his cheek. “Yes?” She asked. “What is it?”

  “The dragon,” Richard said, “I knew it was here before it attacked. I’ve known for a while, since before Sir Ardose left the village.”

  A look of surprise came across Rachel’s face. She pulled away from him, her eyes wide and lips parted. “You knew?”

  Richard slowly nodded and shifted his gaze away. “I saw it from a great distance. I immediately went to Sir Ardose and told him about it, but he asked me to keep it a se
cret.”

  “Why would he do that?” Helga asked. She still sat in her chair in the corner, but now she placed the crochet needles aside.

  “He said it was for the villages best interest not to start a panic.” Richard explained. “He thought I might have been hallucinating or saw a mirage in the clouds. That even if it was there, he thought it might go away in a few days.”

  “But you didn’t tell anyone, even in secret?” Rachel asked.

  Richard looked back up at her, he stared into her forest-green eyes. “It was on the wishes of the man I serve.” He replied. “I should have told you earlier, but I can’t go against the wishes of my lord.”

  “But if you had told someone… if you had told me…” Rachel’s eyes snapped fully open as a terrible thought came into her mind. Her brows then furled down and she glared at Richard. “If you had told us, then my brother might still be alive.”

  “Now what is that supposed to mean?” Helga asked.

  “Dennis went into the woods to hunt the day Ardose left the village, which, according to Richard, was after he saw the dragon for the first time.” Rachel’s tone was harsh and cold. “He hasn’t come home from that hunt even now. I think you know.”

  Richard was not surprised. He let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. “I think the dragon may have killed your brother.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me!?” Her voice suddenly screeched, loud and cracking. “Once I told you he was missing you knew he was dead! And you knew there was a dragon out there that may have killed him, but you didn’t tell me!” Tears formed at the corners of her eyes; one peaked over the edge and ran down the length of her cheek.

  Helga pushed herself up from the rocker with a creak and a groan. She folded her hands together in front of her. “My child, it’s best not to blame the hand for the actions of the mind. Sir Ardose gave Richard an order, and Richard is honor bound as the knight’s squire to follow that order.”