Dragonfire

by Anne Forbes

  “Arthur, listen carefully. I can’t do a thing! As you see, I’ve no hands at the moment! It’s all up to you now! Try lifting your head slowly so that you can free the crown from the weeds. Then we’ll see if we can get away!”

  They waited until the serpent had swum past them to the other end of the trench before Arthur started to pull his head back. The crown moved and lifted free but it took some of the weeds with it.

  “Stop there, Arthur,” Sir James hissed. “I’ll try and get rid of the weeds!”

  Nudging them with his nose, however, didn’t do the slightest bit of good and once more they rested as the serpent glided slowly past.

  It was at this moment that Sir James made a serious error of judgment. The size and weight of the serpent and its lazy movements in the water had unconsciously fostered the idea that it was a relatively slow-moving creature.

  “The crown’s stuck to your chin, Arthur. Why don’t you just take off for the surface of the loch and fly into the air!”

  Now, although Arthur had a much better understanding of the serpent’s abilities than Sir James did, he could think of no alternative. In the past he’d heard vague stories of the Sultan of Turkey’s crown and knew only too well the importance of keeping it out of Kalman’s hands. Indeed, he had a shrewd suspicion that Kalman was the monstrous serpent that so assiduously patrolled the trench.

  They waited until the serpent had reached the furthest end of its beat before Arthur rocketed upwards.

  He almost made it to the surface, but not quite.

  The serpent swung round in a tight turn that would have put an Edinburgh taxi driver to shame and moved like lightning. Indeed, Sir James had never seen anything move with such speed in his life. The muscles of the great creature powered it through the loch. It streaked upwards after the dragon in a swirl of water that knocked Sir James sideways and its great jaws clamped on one of Arthur’s legs as he broke the surface, wings flapping wildly.

  32. Healing Hexes

  From their rowing boat, Lady Ellan and Clara turned as they heard the sudden splash as Arthur reared out of the waters of the loch. He was roaring with fury and pain as he tried frantically to rise into the air. His wings flapped, but to no avail, and it was then that they saw the massive head of the serpent, clamped to one of his legs. Still Arthur struggled to rise but the weight of the serpent was dragging him inexorably down into the water.

  It was then that Amgarad and his eagles decided to take a hand in the matter. Arthur saw them coming and, thinking them his enemies, knew that he was lost. He redoubled his efforts to get clear of the water but the serpent held on grimly. The eagles continued their swoop towards the water and much to Arthur’s surprise dug their claws not into him, but into the serpent. Flapping their great wings and pecking holes in the beast with their sharp beaks, they added their efforts to his and, gripping the slimy creature as best they could, desperately started to drag the serpent out of the loch.

  Clara and Ellan grasped one another’s hands as, slowly but surely, the serpent was lifted, still struggling furiously, from the water. The end, however, came suddenly as, realizing that it was doomed, the serpent released Arthur’s leg from its vice-like grip and arching in agony gave a spasmodic jerk that threw off the eagles. Its lashing tail, however, struck Arthur’s head, loosening the crown from his jaw and Clara and Ellan could only watch in horror as, with a tremendous splash, both the serpent and the crown fell back into the waters of the loch.

  Knocked almost unconscious by the vicious blow from the serpent’s tail, Arthur, too, tumbled from the sky and, as the eagles swooped and dived helplessly overhead, crashed, with a terrific splash, back into the loch. Ellan rowed swiftly towards him as he surfaced and lay, flapping feebly in the water, blood pouring from the terrible gash on his head and from his injured leg.

  As she leant over the side of the boat to reach the injured dragon, Amgarad swept across the water to land on Clara’s shoulder. She grimaced as she felt his claws penetrate her jacket but Amgarad was careful not to scratch her and anyway, she reflected, her jacket was so filthy that a few extra tears and scratches were not going to matter. Secretly, too, she was proud that he had come to her at all, as he was Lord Rothlan’s bird.

  A shout from the shore made them turn their heads. Clara saw her father waving and the others clambering out of the shallow waters onto the shores of the loch.

  “Tell them that Arthur is injured and needs help, Amgarad,” Ellan gasped as she desperately tried to hold the dragon’s head above the water. “I can’t hold him for much longer.”

  Rothlan’s men on the shore, however, had witnessed the struggle of the giant creatures and knowing that their help would be needed, had launched their boats and were already half-way between them and the shore. As Amgarad flew off, Clara reached over the side of the boat to help Ellan. Blood was everywhere and Arthur seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness as his immense weight threatened to drag both them and their boat into the depths of the loch. Clara hung on desperately, blessing the power of her firestone that seemed to be giving her superhuman strength.

  The boats, actually, arrived just in time. The men in them were quick to assess the situation and dived into the water clutching the ends of fishing nets that unrolled behind them as they dived underneath the dragon. They looped the nets under Arthur and fastened them to the boats on either side so that they could be drawn taut, thus lifting his body to the surface of the water. Clara and Ellan watched as they made the nets fast and only then rowed to the shore where Rothlan and the MacArthur waited anxiously. Once Arthur’s weight was spread across the net, it was possible to row him to the shallow, sandy shore of the loch but it was an operation that took time and had to match the pace of the swimmers who swam alongside him, keeping his head above the surface.

  Clara stood clutching her father’s hand as she watched the men manoeuver their boats so that the net deposited Arthur at the water’s edge. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she glanced at Ellan who stood as white as a sheet beside Arthur. Both had had a close-up view of his dreadful injuries and Clara knew instinctively that he had been badly hurt. She had grown very fond of him and the knowledge that he might well die from the terrible wound was almost too much to bear. Indeed, the great dragon looked dead already, lying as he did, still and unmoving, half in and half out of the water. She watched dully as Lord Rothlan, kneeling by his head, placed his hands on the horrendous gash that gouged his forehead and murmured the words of a spell.

  The result was nothing short of fantastic. Even as Rothlan straightened and turned to Lady Ellan, Arthur showed signs of life. His body stirred slightly and his claws dug into the sandy foreshore. And as Ellan ran forward, he opened his eyes and struggled feebly.

  “Stay still, Arthur,” Lord Rothlan warned. “Let me attend to your leg before you do anything else.” Again Rothlan murmured the words of a spell and the ragged gashes of the serpent’s teeth magically disappeared.

  Ellan couldn’t hide her delight and gratitude. “Lord Rothlan!” she cried, holding her hands out to him. “How can I thank you? You have given us back our most precious possession! Arthur is dear to us all!”

  “Aye,” the MacArthur added, “the hill wouldn’t be the same without Arthur. We just can’t thank you enough!”

  Everyone crowded round to look at Arthur and, as he got unsteadily to his feet, a burst of clapping and cheering rang out. Clara couldn’t believe her eyes. Arthur’s head now showed no sign of his dreadful injuries and already he was regaining his strength. She clapped delightedly as he managed to heave himself out of the water and gamely struggled up the grassy bank with Lord Rothlan and Lady Ellan hovering protectively on either side of him.

  “Sir James!” Arthur said, stopping suddenly and looking around. “Where is he?”

  It was only then that everyone realized that in the excitement of Arthur’s fight with the serpent, no one had noticed that Sir James had not returned.

 
“He hasn’t come back yet. Why?” asked Rothlan sharply.

  “The trench … it was full of water goblins. They … they must have seen him when I headed for the surface!”

  There was a sudden silence as everyone turned to look anxiously over the empty loch.

  “He’ll be all right. Don’t worry,” Rothlan said. “I took the precaution of putting a spell on our trout before we left. The water goblins won’t be able to hurt him. And,” he said, suddenly stern, “while I remember, I might just as well hex that nasty little lot out of Jarishan for ever!”

  He straightened his arm and called some strange-sounding words across the loch. Nothing seemed to happen and, seeing Clara’s doubtful look, he raised his eyebrows in amusement. “I am, actually, a very good magician,” he assured her, and laughed as she blushed in confusion.

  “I didn’t mean to be rude,” she stammered.

  She was saved from further embarrassment by the sound of running feet as Neil and Archie came running down to the shore. They stopped dead as they saw Lord Rothlan in the group around Arthur.

  “Neil!” Clara cried in relief, running to hug him, “Neil, it’s all right. We’re all friends now! Oh, I’m so glad that you’ve woken up at last.”

  Full of concern, Archie ran straight to Arthur. “Arthur! Are you all right? What’s been happening?”

  The MacArthur stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. “A lot happened when you were asleep, lad. Lord Rothlan is our enemy no longer and indeed, has just saved Arthur’s life. I’ll leave Arthur to tell you of his amazing adventure but Rothlan says he needs to rest now. Actually he’s just told me that his stables will house Arthur quite comfortably so you can help Hector get him up to the castle.”

  It was then that Sir James emerged from the shallow water and waded onto the shingle, dripping wet and totally weary.

  “Are you all right, James?” MacLeod ran towards him and grasped him by the arm. “We were worried about you!”

  “At one stage I was worried about myself,” Sir James admitted. “After Arthur took off, I rather lost my bearings. Since then, I think I must have been swimming round in circles! I’m totally exhausted!” He gave a heartfelt sigh of relief as he walked up to the dragon.

  “Thank goodness you’re okay, Arthur. I heard the tremendous commotion that was going on at the top of the water but, quite frankly, there wasn’t a lot I could do to help. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when the serpent fell back into the water! Did you get away with the crown?”

  There was a dreadful silence at his words as, apart from Clara and Ellan, no one else knew that the crown had been found.

  Arthur shook his head sadly. “In the struggle, the serpent’s tail hit me in the face,” he explained, “and knocked the crown off my chin. It … it fell back into the loch.”

  Everyone turned and looked searchingly over the loch. Its bland surface, now placid and unruffled, told them nothing, and Arthur’s voice when he spoke was barely more than a whisper. “I think … I’m afraid Prince Kalman might have it!”

  33. Prince Kalman

  Prince Kalman did, indeed, have the crown.

  As the serpent crashed back into the loch, the prince left its writhing body and hurriedly merged into the first water goblin he came across. Leaving the hapless monster thrashing in its death agonies, Prince Kalman swam swiftly away, his mind on the crown; for he had glimpsed it falling through the air and knew it must be nearby.

  Frantically, he swam backwards and forwards through the murky water until he saw it, resting in all its glory on the sandy floor of the loch. Triumph surged through him as he swam up to it and grasped it firmly in his webbed hands. It was his! The crown was his at last!

  Water goblins, however, are not large creatures and although they can swim like fish, are not physically strong. To his total frustration, the prince found that he could barely move the crown off the bed of the loch, far less carry it to the surface. Grimly he pulled, tugged and heaved but the best he could do was lift it a few feet before it fell back to the ground. Indeed, he was on the point of total exhaustion when he suddenly found himself drawn inexorably upwards in a swirling eddy of water that shot him unceremoniously onto the hillside at the side of the loch. Choking and spluttering, he demerged from a very surprised water goblin and saw, to his relief, that his hands still gripped the crown.

  It took him a few seconds to work out what must have happened and an evil grin spread over his face as he realized that he probably had Lord Rothlan to thank for such an amazing turn of fortune. Who else, after all, would want to hex the water goblins out of the loch?

  He threw a mocking salute in the direction of the castle as he rose to his feet. He knew, however, that he wasn’t yet out of danger and, hurriedly scanning the sky for eagles, moved into the shelter of some trees. Seconds later, Kitor swooped down to land on his shoulder.

  “You found it, Master!” the crow gasped, his eyes popping out of his head at the sight of the jewelled crown that Kalman held so firmly.

  The prince stood straight, tall and triumphant. “It’s mine at last!” he said, holding it up in front of him. “Look on it well, Kitor! My father’s gift to the Meridens! The world will know our name! With the power of this crown I can rule Scotland!” He laughed excitedly. “But what am I saying?” he smiled. “With the power of this crown, I could rule the world!”

  “Not if Rothlan’s eagles catch you,” snapped Kitor in sudden alarm. “Look at them rising from the walls of the castle! They are going hunting, Master, and they are hunting us!”

  As the screams of the eagles echoed across the loch, the prince thrust the crown inside the folds of his black coat and edged deeper into the trees. “I must merge with something, Kitor. Quickly! I can’t be caught now!”

  “There are red deer in one of the hollows further up the hill, Master,” Kitor said. “Keep to the trees and we will come close to them.”

  Kalman moved swiftly towards the shallow hollow that held the grazing deer. Gently, he eased himself close to an ancient hind that stood apart from the rest of the herd, her ears flickering suspiciously at every movement of the heather. Softly he breathed the words of a spell and even as she turned her head in alarm, he held her in thrall and, step by step, drew her towards him until he could merge with her safely.

  “Good luck with the eagles, Kitor,” were his master’s last, mocking words as the hind ambled off slowly to rejoin the herd.

  Although Kitor’s eyes narrowed at the callous remark, he was wise enough not to comment. He heaved a sigh as he slid into the shelter of a cleft branch and huddled out of sight; for the eagles, he knew, would not penetrate the forest. It would only be when darkness fell that he would venture forth, but not before!

  Night was falling as the MacArthur, Rothlan, Sir James and the children made their way back to the castle in straggling groups with Arthur at their head. When they reached its walls, they found everyone gathered outside to welcome them and a great cheer arose from both the MacArthurs and Rothlan’s men.

  Inside the castle, the delicious smell of food that rose from the kitchens made everyone appreciate how ravenously hungry they were.

  Clara was shown to one of the bedrooms where a servant brought her a bowl of hot water, soap and a towel and took away her clothes. Laid on the bed was a long dress of fine wool with a matching wrap of the same material.

  “I hope it fits you, miss,” said Hector’s wife entering the room. “It belongs to my niece.”

  “I’m sure it will,” said Clara, holding it up. “It’s a beautiful dress. I’ve never had anything as nice to wear in my whole life!”

  “Let’s see it on then,” smiled Ellan as she peeped round the door. She entered the room wearing an elegant high-waisted blue dress and gracefully, turned this way and that to show it off.

  Mrs Mackenzie eyed her approvingly as she buttoned Clara into her frock. “It brings out the colour of your eyes, milady!” Then she stood back to admire Clara, as she paraded in
front of a mirror. “Ocht! You look lovely, the pair of you,” she nodded. “Now, I must go and help attend to the supper. When you’re ready just go downstairs, for the master will be waiting.”

  “It’s funny being friends with Lord Rothlan now,” mused Clara, sitting at the side of her bed. “I’m not a bit scared of him any more and the way he cured Arthur was wonderful!”

  Ellan nodded. “He is our ally now, Clara, against Prince Kalman. For Kalman, you know has the same evil disposition as his father and he will never give up.” She strode worriedly around the room. “I do wish I knew what had happened to the crown. If only Kalman doesn’t know that it fell back into the loch!”

  The sound of voices at the door made them turn. “That sounds like Neil,” Clara said, jumping up hurriedly. “I wonder what they’ve given him to wear!”

  Neil and Jaikie stood rather awkwardly outside. Both were dressed alike in kilts of Jarishan tartan, ruffled shirts and the green woollen jackets that Rothlan and his men customarily wore. They eyed her rather self-consciously, as did her father, Sir James and Dougal MacLeod when they all met on the stairs but, as their clothes suited their surroundings, she soon became accustomed to them and whispered to Neil that she thought the kilt a big improvement on jeans.

  A huge fire blazed in the great hall and after a banquet in which roast pig vied with beef, lamb, haunches of venison and raised pies, they retired once more to the comfort of its armchairs.

  It was Lord Rothlan who broke the silence. “Before we discuss the loss of the crown, perhaps we could be told how it was found?”

  Sir James answered. “Actually, it was Arthur who found the crown. Purely by accident, as it happened.”