The Pitchfork of Destiny

by Jack Heckel

  Volthraxus lay on the floor on the other side of the table, his massive head resting on his crossed forelimbs and his red-­gold eyes half-­ lidded but fixed intently on her as she ate. “Didn’t I tell you that the ’56 Chateau de Chateau would be a perfect complement?”

  She nodded and wiped her mouth delicately on a linen napkin the dragon had insisted she must have, his exact words to the wolf being something like, “We are not barbarians, Beo. You would not set a table for your guest without a clean tablecloth (which the wolf had also been forced to obtain), and you certainly would not ask a lady to wipe her mouth on the back of her sleeve.”

  From the corner behind her, there was a whine as Beo begged to be allowed to eat. The wolf had been on the run for the past week, gathering all the “necessities,” as the dragon called the finery they’d looted, and the way he was drooling and panting and the way his ribs pinched together made Elle wonder if he’d eaten at all in that time. The dragon gave the wolf a sharp look, and for a moment his eyes seemed actually to be aflame. The whining stopped, and the dragon returned to his contemplation of her, his eyes gentling and the gold flecks slowly returning like fine particles rising to the top of a stream of molten lava.

  Elle pointedly ignored this exchange and took another bite, and, after another sip of wine, said, “The meal is delicious, Volthraxus. You have quite a lot of skill with roast deer. I usually find the meat either dry or underdone, and often quite gamey, but here there is a wonderful browning on the outside while the inside remains marvelously tender. How do you do it?”

  The dragon’s eyes rolled with pleasure at the compliment, and he replied in his deep, rumbling voice, “Years of practice, my Lady. I would happily give you the recipe, but unfortunately it requires roasting the meat at a temperature that can only be obtained using the infernal fires of my kind. However, I must say that I think this venison is second-­rate.”

  “You are being too modest,” Elle replied instantly.

  Beo snorted at this, but Volthraxus either did not hear or chose to ignore the wolf. Instead, he smiled contentedly, and said, “No, I feel my roasted venison is only barely passable. My real specialty is pork. I am renowned throughout the dragon world as the preeminent expert on swine flesh, and I have been fortunate enough to locate a large herd of pigs that I shall soon be visiting.”

  Elle had felt a bit of remorse at the wolf’s and dragon’s raids against her friends and relations in the court, but they had deep cellars to hide in and could afford the loss of a few bits of china and furniture if it meant keeping the two beasts from real mischief. She knew from having talked to Will that a dragon attack on a farm could mean devastation to the farmer. This was partly why she kept asking the dragon for wild game: deer, geese, elk, fish, and so on.

  She decided to try once more to forestall the proposed raid. “But surely,” she said gesturing over at the enormous spit of roasted deer he had just prepared, “we have more than enough food for several days.”

  The dragon glanced quickly at the side of meat and gestured at it with a dismissive flick of one of his claws. “I could not possibly ask you to eat leftovers, Lady Rapunzel. My table is not so ungracious.”

  “But I hate to see such waste,” she urged. “It would make me feel a poor guest.”

  “Don’t worry yourself, Lady Rapunzel,” he rumbled soothingly, “If it bothers you so much, I will give the scraps to the dog.”

  There was a deep growl from behind her, and Volthraxus opened one eye wide and fixed it on the wolf. “Do you have something to add to our discussion, Beo?”

  The dragon’s eye was blazing, but this time Beo did not back down. “Yes, I do. I have a bone to pick with you, or more precisely a lack of bones,” he said, or Elle thought that was what he said, for whereas the dragon had a very sophisticated accent, far more cultured and refined than most courtiers she’d met, the wolf’s human speech was punctuated by odd yips, barks, and growls.

  “Do you? Do the ‘scraps’ from my table then turn out to be insufficient for mighty Beo?” the dragon asked condescendingly.

  “Not the scraps themselves, but in how you have ordered your table, yes,” he said, biting each word short in his anger.

  The dragon closed his eyes, and said contradictorily, “I am listening. Go on.”

  The wolf moved to the side of the table between Elle and Volthraxus. “Why does this human get a place at your table as honored guest? She is your prisoner. Remember, it is her betrothed that slew your beloved. Why should she not be made to suffer in his stead while you await his arrival?”

  Volthraxus opened his eyes, but just an inch, so that they were transformed into menacing red slits. “You have a nasty habit of reminding me of painful things, Beo. It is a trait that you should work on remedying lest one day I grow weary of your company. As for Lady Rapunzel, I remember well how her King William wronged me, but she is not King William, and I enjoy her conversation. How I choose to pass my time is my business, not yours. If you cannot behave with better grace, then you may absent yourself from our dinners.”

  “We are meant to be partners . . .” Beo grumbled with something approaching a growl, and began to pace back and forth reminding Volthraxus about their bargain and about all the terrible things Will had done. The dragon in return rumbled deeply about what the wolf was doing, or more precisely not doing, to bring him the revenge they had agreed was the sole goal of their partnership.

  Throughout this exchange, Elle was careful to betray no emotion, but inwardly she smiled. She had realized quite quickly after her capture that the dragon did not really like the wolf, and the wolf did not really like the dragon. They were each using the other, but there was little trust and certainly no mutual respect. She did not know how yet, but somewhere in their natural enmity she hoped was the possibility of escape.

  The wolf had just finished his appeal to the dragon, and Elle decided it was time to test the dragon’s hostility to the creature and, by comparison, his incomprehensible sympathy toward her.

  She assumed a look of anxious concern, and said, “Volthraxus, if my behavior has been offensive to you, or if being in my presence causes you pain, I understand.” Here she paused and added a womanly quaver to her voice. “I also know what it is to lose someone you love, though for me I hope that there is still some small chance that we will be together again. I . . . I will go.” She put her napkin to the side of her plate and rose as if to leave.

  The dragon’s eyes flew open in alarm at this prospect. “My dear Lady Rapunzel, I am sorry that Beo and I have been airing our personal business in front of you. It was ill done.” At this, he shot the wolf such a menacing glare that the creature dropped to the ground and backed away from the table and out of the cave on his belly. Volthraxus turned back to her, his eyes molten gold. “I can only say that your company has made the last few days bearable. I am keenly aware that my own actions toward you could not have been more unwelcome and that you would be right to despise me, and yet you have treated me with a kindness that I would not have thought possible from one of your race. I thank you for that and for the wit of your conversation.”

  He ended his speech with a slight bow of his head, and she sat again with a demure smile.

  “Thank you, Volthraxus,” she said. “I was worried that you might have been growing tired of me.”

  The dragon did not answer but smiled indulgently and asked if she needed more of anything. She declined politely and took another bite. Elle knew that the time had come to broach the topic of his plan for revenge against Will, but she did not know what the best approach would be. She picked up her wineglass and took another sip. Somehow, she had to get the dragon to understand that killing Will would not bring him any satisfaction and less still would it bring back Magdela—­heaven help the kingdom.

  After pondering the topic silently for a few minutes while she ate, Elle decided that she would just have to try and hope
for the best. So, laying her fork aside, she said, “Volthraxus, I wish to speak to you about something.”

  The dragon had appeared to be half-­asleep, but Elle knew by now that the creature was always alert even when apparently in deep slumber, so it came as no surprise when he opened his eyes, and said, “Yes, Lady Rapunzel, is there something else you require?”

  Rapunzel blushed a little at this because she’d never been more demanding than she had made herself over the last week, and she heard in the dragon’s tone an undercurrent of reproach at her selfishness. “No,” she said. “I am sorry if my requests have been bothersome.”

  “They have not,” the dragon said dryly. “I know that you have been trying to keep Beo and me from rampaging through the countryside by sending us on these silly quests, but I do not resent that little subterfuge.”

  “You knew?” Rapunzel exclaimed.

  He chuckled deeply. “Of course I knew. Do you think I am some upstart fresh out of the egg that can be turned by a kind word and a pretty face? I also know that you have been ever so subtly trying to turn me against the wolf, and that now believing that I am more sympathetic toward you, you will attempt to convince me to give up my campaign against King William.”

  “But why? Why go along with it?” she asked, a growing emptiness replacing the calm confidence she’d had mere moments before.

  The dragon shifted his body and recrossed his front talons under his head. The entire movement had the effect of a kind of shrug. “Because your plans, up to this point, have served my purposes also. Take the raids on the nobles for one.” He began absentmindedly scratching a complex pattern on the cavern floor with one of his talons. “It is easy for a king to ignore a dragon that attacks farms. King Rupert and Prince Charming ignored Magdela for the better part of thirty years. Ahhh . . .” he exhaled and a puff of smoke came out, “but have that same dragon attack nobles, and the entire court will rise up and demand that the King act. I do not want to be here thirty years. I do not want to be here even three months. I want King William to come at me at once, and so I raid the nobles and steal their riches. Also,” he added with another smoky chuckle, “it annoys Beo, and I like anything that annoys him.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, feeling suddenly very small, very simple, and very stupid. “Is Beo your partner, or is he not?”

  The dragon paused before answering, his head cocked to one side as though listening for something. Finally, he said, “Beo is a useful tool, but he is dangerous. He is the blade that would happily turn in your hand. I have enjoyed having you as a foil to remind him how disposable he is to me and also to remind me how far I can safely push him.”

  Elle sat in her chair, her body slumped in defeat. She had been naïve and silly to imagine that her simple machinations would be enough to sway the dragon’s heart. He had been playing with her the whole time, and now there was nothing she could say that he would not second-­guess as self-­serving. Tears pooled in her eyes at her failure, and she said miserably, “I realize now what a fool I’ve been. Please, if I have made you angry, remember that it was me and not Will who tried to deceive you.”

  Volthraxus stopped his doodling. “Given your situation, you would have been a fool not to try. I know only too well how you must hate me. The fact that you have been able to maintain your composure and this persona for so long is a testament to your character. I spoke truly earlier when I said that I enjoy your company and that your conversation has made the last week bearable. I only wish that we had met under better circumstances and that you were not quite so human.”

  She nodded thoughtfully at her plate, then came to the sudden conclusion that she would have to use a more direct approach. Elle sat up straight in her chair. “Volthraxus, I intend to convince you to abandon your plan to kill Will. I hope that by getting to know me, you will see that I mean you no harm, and I have every intention of proving to you that killing Will won’t bring you the peace you seek.”

  Volthraxus nodded, then rose so that he loomed above her and the table. “Now we have the truth. Although I think it is a waste of time and will make our conversations increasingly tedious, I will not try to dissuade you from your course, Lady Rapunzel. You will defend your love using the weapons available to you, just as I will avenge my love using those weapons available to me. In the end, we will see whose resolve fails first. Now, if you will excuse me, there is pork on the menu for tomorrow, and for once in weeks, I am hungry.”

  He began to move very carefully past her toward the mouth of the cave. Just as he was passing out into the forest, the dragon looked back at her. “You will do what you must do Lady Rapunzel, but if I could give you advice from one that has loved and lost to another, do not put your faith in hope. She is the cruelest of mistresses.”

  With that, he flew off into the night, leaving her alone.

  CHAPTER 6

  WHEN PIGS FLY

  Liz and Tomas made their way down the Southern Road toward Prosper for more than a week. Refugees, confusion, and panic choked the towns and inns, but nowhere could they find any sign or word of Charming and Will. She had been certain that, with the extra horses and more level heads on their shoulders, they would overtake the two men before they made it to Prosper, but the chronic nausea that had gripped her that first day in the cottage continued to plague her, and it was slowing them down. Liz was beginning to wonder if it wouldn’t be a better idea for her to send Tomas off on his own, but thus far she had been unwilling to abandon the search.

  Something else that was growing as they got farther south was the legend of the Dracomancer. The mysterious man’s name, or at least his title, seemed to be on every traveler’s lips, and with each passing mile, the stories grew more and more fanciful. The Dracomancer had killed a dozen dragons in his time, perhaps two dozen. No, the Dracomancer kept dragons as pets and could call them from the sky like songbirds. And the craziest, that the Dracomancer had a magical talisman that allowed him to summon dragon spirits. By the time they reached the road that would take them to Two Trees, they found themselves in a long caravan of pilgrims all trying to reach the legendary man.

  In this part of Royaume, the Eastern and Southern Mountains crowded close together, and while the Southern Road followed the valley that ran between them, the way to Two Trees climbed steeply up, cutting back and forth across the mountains through a deep forest of fir and pine. Tomas and Liz settled into their saddles for the long, slow ascent.

  “Tell me more about the Dracomancer,” Liz said, as the path narrowed, and the trees closed in over their heads.

  “Well, what do you want to know?” he asked, taking a drink from a leather skin that Liz suspected held something other than water. “He was an apprentice to a court magician, but he only made a name for himself later when he made the prophecy. After that, he got pretty famous, wrote that book The Dragon’s Tale, and for many years was traveling about as a sort of seer for hire to the gentry.”

  “I thought Hans Perrault Grimm wrote The Dragon’s Tale?”

  “Pen name,” Tomas said with a loud belch. “Did pretty well with it too as I understand.”

  Liz was silent for a minute or two as she grappled with the fact that her favorite book was written by a man who called himself a “dracomancer.” After a while, she asked, “So, what happened to him after the dragon died? How did his reputation survive after his prophecy proved false?”

  Tomas snorted. “It didn’t. After that dragon died in your field, he was run out of Castle White. Two Trees probably gave him sanctuary because he had been so good for business for so long. In the heyday of the Great Wyrm, Two Trees got most of its money out of the King’s coffers.”

  She frowned at this. “I know Two Trees was attacked now and then, but no more than Prosper, and probably less.”

  Tomas took another swig from his skin. “All I know is that the town elders were constantly at the castle requesting funds to re
build the town from the latest dragon attack. The other courtiers used to call them the beggars court. Not nice, but true.”

  Liz returned to the question that had been bothering her this whole time. “Do you think the Dracomancer will actually know something about how to fight dragons?”

  Tomas shrugged. “I don’t know. King Rupert brought him in to tutor your husband, but Charming didn’t like him much. I can tell you that back in the day, he had a really good look, and in my experience, that counts for a lot in these sorts of things.”

  “Look? Look?” she repeated, her voice raising several octaves. “Are you telling me we’re going all the way to Two Trees because he looked like a sorcerer?”

  Tomas glanced about nervously and gestured for her to lower her voice. “I’m not saying that’s the only reason, I’m just saying he had the air of magic about him. And, if I were you, I wouldn’t voice your doubts too loudly because I think a lot of our fellow travelers really believe, if you know what I mean.”

  He glanced meaningfully at several of the carts and riders surrounding them. Liz saw that a number of the wagons, if not a large majority, had crude drawings of dragons in various poses and of varying levels of ferocity sketched, painted, or carved into their sides.

  “Is one of those his symbol?” Liz whispered.

  “All of them are, I think,” Tomas said with a nod. They rode on in silence. Liz spent her time wondering exactly who or what they would find at the end of this winding road and whether she would regret the decision to seek him out.