The Princess Who Forgot She Was Beautiful (The Harry Ferguson Chronicles Book 1)

by William David Ellis

  The faces of the old man’s audience varied from grinning in unbelief to gasping in fear. The Reverend Laden Long, who coincidently was born with the strangest mark on his neck right below his head and above his shoulders, squinted with angry, and lowered lids. He had always thought it was a birthmark, but when he examined it in front of the mirror, it had always reminded him of an old scar. Now that Laden Long was fully possessed by the dragon, the old man’s story brought back angry memories. The reverend had the strangest compulsion to crack his neck and rub the old scar. Funny how it itched.

  “As the speaker had been describing what Harry had to do, the poor boy’s mouth dropped open, his eyes widened, his breath came in quick pants, his knees grew weak, and he slipped to the floor. As the speaker continued, Harry’s heart beat faster and faster. When the speaker got to the part where Harry had to jump off the dragon’s back before the serpent hit the ground in a fiery crash, Harry slumped over and fainted.

  ‘“Hey! Harry! Harry? This is not the time to be napping boy! Get your scraggly face up! Harry come on! We’re in this together. Look, I know you’re there. I can hear your thoughts kid... come out. Come out! Harry? Look, screaming down dark tunnels of paranoia isn’t going to help...’

  A score of little heads pivoted on little necks, eyes scrunched, hands shot up, and the old man stopped, and said, “I sense that there is a question.” A floor full of scrubby fingers raised to the sky, and then the shouts began:

  “What’s a pair of noia?”

  “What’s wrong with Harry? Is he sick?”

  “Why did he faint? My mama fainted when my little brother was in her tummy. My daddy said that’s because my brother stepped on something he wasn’t supposed to. Can men faint, too?”

  “He was skeered, wasn’t he?” the boy with more freckles than skin sneered.

  “Is he going to wake up?”

  “Is something after him?”

  A storm of curiosity pelted the old man like thunderstorm hail on a pickup.

  “Ok, Ok! Hold it! Give me a second to answer…No, Patty, men do not have babies… it’s not a pair-of-noia, it is paranoia. Now here is what happened. Sometimes, when people get really, really, really scared, their mind will shut off a minute. They just kind of turn off the TV in their head and stare at a blank screen. Harry was terrified of high places. The reason he was so afraid is because when he was little, he climbed a tree and made like a flying squirrel, except he didn’t fly, and landed on his face. It knocked the breath out of him. He broke a rib and had a hard time breathing for a day or two. So, the last thing in the world Harry wanted to do was to get on the back of a bucking dragon and fly up into the sky. But do you know what?” The old man looked around the room holding the gaze of every little person. “I bet he does it anyway. What do you think?”

  “My money is on Harry!” Sarah said, standing to her feet. “Everybody who believes Harry can do it, stand with me. Hurrah for Harry!” The room broke into shouts and laughter and applause. Finally, the old man shushed them all back into place, gave Sarah an I-wish-you-hadn’t-done-that look, to which she just shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

  The old man started back with the story, “The speaker sword said, ‘Screaming down dark tunnels in fear…’ He looked around the room to ensure they all realized that he had replaced paranoia with the word fear. They nodded in accordance, and he continued. ‘…isn’t going to help. It won’t help the princess. It won’t help your people, and it won’t help you or me, for that matter. So, gird ‘em up boy!’ The speaker searched through Harry’s mind looking for his essence. Finally, he heard a squeak in a dark room of Harry’s soul. A door creaked open, and a small beam of light shone across Harry’s imagination. The sword was the only one who could see into this deepest place of Harry’s heart. What he saw was Harry… but not the peasant boy Harry, not the young man who wrestled piney woods rooters and fell in murky stinking swamps or griped about walking down cobweb filled dark tunnels. No, what the sword saw was a man who looked like Harry because he was Harry, but he was also more. His face shone like he had bathed it in sunlight and not bothered to dry off. His eyes were fierce but gentle, his smile still belonged to shy Harry, but his heart had changed. The speaker, who thought he had seen just about everything that could be seen in the hearts of warriors, was a little surprised because he had never seen this.

  Stunned, the speaker stumbled over his words. “Ha.. Ha..rry? Are you okay?’ and thought, This being looked like Harry, but was it really Harry? I mean, it had to be Harry. It was in Harry’s mind and body, but oh my, what stepped out of that dark place in Harry’s heart sure wasn’t what went in.

  The speaker waited for Harry to say something and was rewarded with a gentle smile. ‘Yeah, Speaker, it’s me. I am ready now. We can do this.’

  ‘“Harry, what happened? Where did you go?’ the speaker’s curiosity bubbled up.

  “Harry awakened and was standing to his feet. ‘I don’t know Speaker. I fell down into darkness. I felt like I was being torn apart by a thousand fears, then I heard a voice. It was powerful but pleasant. A man’s voice said, ‘Leave him alone.’ Suddenly the fears hushed. My heart got quiet. Then the voice said, ‘Come up here, Harry.’ I looked up. The darkness had gone away, and I could see clearly. I was in a large room, kind of like the huge cavern where the dragons and their riders lay, like this room, I guess,’ Harry laughed, looking at the cavern around him. ‘Maybe it was this room but a long, long time ago, or maybe a long, long time from now. It wasn’t dirty, and there were no bones.

  I looked for the one calling me and saw, at the far end of the room, a throne, and before me a red carpet, the color of dark blood. It led to the throne. I felt like I was supposed to walk down the carpet, but I was uncomfortable walking on it, so I took my shoes and socks off and walked down that red pathway barefoot. Finally, as I drew closer to the man who called me, I noticed that the great hall had other people in it, even dragons, but they were not evil. They were magnificent, powerful beasts. When they looked at me, I saw intelligence in their eyes. Standing beside them were hundreds of riders clothed in brilliant, beautiful colors.

  As I walked down the red carpet in my bare feet, I realized I looked like a homeless person compared to those splendidly clothed riders. The nearer I came to the throne, the worse I felt. I saw how dirty I was, how torn and tattered my clothes were. I was aware that I hadn’t bathed in weeks, and thought I could smell myself. I slowed down my pace and almost stopped. I was close enough to the throne to see a king, but not close enough to make out his features. I knew I was out of place in that great hall. I felt so unworthy, ashamed, and unprepared to meet the great king. I wanted to run away and hide, but as I turned aside to look back, I saw that the dragons and their riders had closed in behind me and were also walking toward the throne. I couldn’t tell if they were backing me up, or keeping me from running, or both. The closer I got, the worse I felt.

  I found myself able to make out the features of the king. He had dark hair and tan skin, like he had worked in the fields with regular people. His grey beard and dark brown eyes were framed in a strong but friendly face. Though he wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t frowning either. I tried to keep walking toward him, but I could barely move. Finally, I fell to my knees, bowed my head, and wept. I don’t know why. It was like layers of shame, and filth, and all the bad things I had ever done or thought were laid out in front of this king. I can’t explain why I felt that way. I can only tell you that I did. I was half blind from my tears. I couldn’t stop crying. Then I felt a hand on my head and heard that voice again.

  ‘“It is time, Harry.’

  ‘“I was dazed and didn’t understand what the King meant, so I just looked up at him.’

  ‘“It is time for you to step into your destiny. This is your commissioning. This is the moment you receive your mantle, your marching orders, and lastly, the ability to do what I am asking you to do. Receive your anointing, Harry!’ the rich, deep voice boomed. I heard it
, and more significantly, I felt it. I felt the energy that ran through his hands as he laid them on my shoulders, tingling like electricity. It didn’t hurt. It felt hot, though, and I began to sweat. I felt my face get hot, and I know I must have turned red. My body began to shake, and then the most humiliating thing happened. I had multiple seizures, not the kind associated with disease, but more like hiccups. I couldn’t stop. My body would spasm. I bent over at the waist and I began to wail. I felt helpless and powerless, but after a few minutes, I felt good, really, really good. I don’t know how to explain it. I just felt good. Emotionally, physically, anyway a person can feel, I felt wonderful. When I opened my eyes and looked around, I was back here. I saw the door, walked through it, and here I am.’

  “The ancient sword, which was bound to the young man, was very quiet. Since Harry had no face or body to address, just a voice in his head, he could only feel the presence of the sword, so he knew it was still there, but it was silent. After a moment, it spoke. ‘Harry, I didn’t realize. I mean I should have known, but to be honest it’s been such a long time, I forgot, and that is a terrible thing.’

  “Harry sat in the dark of the tunnel, his face lit by the blue light coming from the sword and sheath he had draped across his knees. If anyone could have heard him, they would have thought they had stumbled across a mad man lost in the tunnels and driven mad from fear. But no one was there to watch, and so no one could see the expression on the boy’s face. Curious, and patient, and powerful, he waited in the darkness. ‘Forgot what, Speaker?’

  ‘“I forgot to tell you that every dragon rider must be commissioned. They have to be called by the King. He has to embrace and empower them. Yours is a sacred duty.’

  ‘“Well, it’s easy to see why you forgot. I mean, I don’t look like a dragon rider, I don’t want to ride a dragon, and I don’t even have a dragon to ride. I don’t think that jumping from a high place to land on this evil critter’s backside, holding on for dear life, and then finally sticking a sword in it, qualifies for riding. Wild hog riding, possibly, but not like what I just saw in that great hall. Those dragons were good. They were friends with their riders, partners, if you will. They were not enemies, so I am not sure what I just experienced is what you think it was.’

  ‘“Well sir, hmm… somehow that almost seems appropriate now, Sir Harry... hmm’

  ‘“I tell you what, Speaker, let’s not use that title... I am Harry, just plain old Harry.’

  “The speaker laughed to himself and thought, ‘We shall see.’

  “To which Harry replied, ‘You know, Speaker, I can hear your thoughts, too.’

  “They both laughed, ‘Harry, the reason we came here was for you to get some things. One, you’ve already found, the spurs. The second fell with you onto the floor. If you will crawl over there and pick it up, we can dust if off and get acquainted with it.’

  ‘“I hope it fits, and all the buckles are not rotted. I’d hate to put it on, and then get into a brawl with the dragon only to have him swat me and knock this cumbersome conglomeration of armor off.’

  ‘“Oh, it will fit Harry. I guarantee you. It will fit.’

  ‘“And just how do you know that?’

  ‘“Watch and see, Harry. Watch and see.’

  “Harry was about to argue with the speaker when they heard a roar so fierce Harry’s body vibrated as the scream tore through the silence. He had forgotten that the dragon graveyard was easily accessible to the evil dragon that lived in the caves, but that roar reminded him!

  ‘“He smelled you, Harry. Pick up that armor and run!’

  “Harry grabbed the bronze colored armor at his feet and ran as hard as he could through the tunnels, following the speaker’s directions. The floor shook with the pounding of the dragon’s feet. He must have caught Harry’s scent early and snuck up on him. Harry could hear its steam-engine panting close in on him. Then all of a sudden...”

  The old man looked around. His audience, both adult and child, were seated on the edge of their chairs or gathered up close, a few of the children were even hugging one another. Everyone was waiting and then the old man laughed and said, “That is all we have time for tonight, folks. Kids, we’ll have to take it up again in the morning! It’s getting close to some of your bed times. And for you old folks, like the fire marshal, the nightly news is about to come on.”

  “Nooo! You can’t stop there! Does he get away from the dragon?”

  “How does he get away?”

  “What happens next? This is not right!”

  The adults were laughing, but the frowns on a few faces revealed they agreed with the children. Ending the story at this part was not nice. Then there were the serpent-eyed adults who seemed to perpetually frown, unless they were wearing a beaming facade of a smile. One of those, the Reverend Long, was moving toward him, his hand out to shake the old man’s hand. The old man was not particularly inclined to shake a dragon- possessed man’s hand, so he drew his hand to his face and pretended to have a runny nose. He looked at the reverend innocently and said, “Sorry Laden my nose started itching and running. I’m embarrassed, but I probably shouldn’t share this with you, if you know what I mean.”

  The big, bright smile flickered like a windblown candle and was replaced by a frown that transitioned into a sneer once the reverend saw that only he and the old man were close enough to hear their conversation.

  “Interesting mythology, Hank. You tell a good story. It even sounds familiar, although I don’t think I’ve heard it the way you’re telling it. In the version I recall, the dragon was the victim robbed of what was rightly his by conquest.”

  “Well now, that is an interesting take on the story,” the old man replied. “The dragon kidnaps a princess, murders the men sent to rescue her, and then complains when somebody wants to steal her back? That is funny! And what an amazing term, right of conquest. Seems to imply that if you have might, you’re in the right. I don’t think I ever read that in the Good Book.”

  Hank saw a small group of people gradually drawing close to him, each one infected with the same slitted eyes as the reverend. He didn’t back down, until he felt the small hand of his favorite princess grab his. He didn’t take his eyes off the reverend but wished Sarah wasn’t standing in the line of fire.

  The Reverend Long, or the serpent possessing the Right Most Reverend, looked down at Sarah, smiled, and reached out to stroke her hair. With a steel gaze she stopped him mid reach, “You touch me, and I will bite your finger off, spit it out, and scream. Then my grandfather will barge in here and beat you to a pulp. Have I communicated in such a way as you have understood?” she said, smiling innocently.

  “My, my, you’ve grown up. Or perhaps I should say caught up. Haven’t you, Sarah? I remember when you were different.”

  “No more games,” the old man growled. “You know how this ends. I beat you before, and I will beat you again. Only this time, I will finish the task. Does your neck itch, dragon?”

  The reverend stepped back, blinked, and then released the veil that he thought hid his eyes. “It’s a different time, Hank, or should I call you by your given name, Harry. I will not be denied. I will take the princess. She will submit to her dragon nature; you’ll die a bloody and painful death, and just like last time, she’ll lick your blood.”

  Sarah stiffened and bowed her head. The dragon’s words reminded her of her failure and crashed against the hope that had strengthened her heart.

  The dragon’s speech coiled out of the clergy’s body, hissing now that it had been revealed. The voice held nothing back. “Thatssss right, little dragon princesssss. You remember, don’t you? You liked it too. You were turning because you wanted to be mine.”

  The old man had enough. In the presence of manifest evil, the dormant part of him, that he didn’t bring out because he was never sure he could tuck it back in later, burned. Before the dragon’s last words had barely left its mouth, Hank struck. Five old, gnarled fingers balled into a calloused fist.
Then in a display of speed that surprised even Hank, collided with pent up fury into the dragon’s brazen teeth. The possessed body of the reverend flew back across the room. The people who had stalked closer to support their master surged forward, but slammed into a wall and stopped. They didn’t move. Like still frames of a movie clip or old photos, they were motionless.

  The old man who had been expecting to be tackled, looked behind him to see a young man, dressed in jeans and long-sleeve denim shirt. The young man smiled and said, “I am not going to hold them long. If I were you, I would take Sarah and her grandfather and leave the library. This is not the place for the last confrontation, and the King doesn’t like to remove all doubt,” pointing to everyone else in the room. “So, nobody manifests here tonight, and no one dies,” and then in a tone of regret he added, “regardless of whether they deserve it or not.”

  Old man Harry grabbed Sarah in his arms and moved as fast as his arthritic legs could carry him. He saw the fire marshal standing in the corner, oblivious to the fact that, just across the room, time had stopped. The fire marshal saw him carrying Sarah, and didn’t hesitate when Harry said, “It’s time to go.” As quickly and calmly as they could, they hurried out of the library.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The old man looked at the fire marshal, and before he could ask questions, said, “Not here. Not now. Let’s get to your house where we can talk.” He put Sarah down and was about to get in his truck, when she said, “Grandpa, I’m gonna ride with Harry, I mean Mr. Hank.”

  The fire marshal laughed at her slip, and said, “I think we all know who he is now, Sarah, and to be honest, I don’t know what to call him either. I’ll meet you there. Be careful. No more accidents today.”

  She nodded and crawled into the old man’s pickup.

  “Things are moving a little fast,” old Harry mused. “My secret’s out, I guess. To be honest, I’m not sure what you should call me either. I have been Hank Ferguson for sixty years, yet I am also very much Harry the young man who rescued you over a thousand years ago. It is a little confusing.”