A Selfless Sacrifice

by Paul Cude

  ‘DAMN!’ thought the warrior, coming back to his senses, knowing full well that not only had he been caught out, but he’d been played as well, the ramifications of which did not bode well for any encounter with the monstrous beasts down below in the valley.

  “Did it work?” asked Keesha trying to break the ice between the other two and change the subject slightly.

  “To some degree it did,” ventured the warrior, still smarting from being caught out by the repository guardian.

  “Until I lured you out,” added Orac, a little too smugly.

  “Hmmm...”

  “Surely that’s something though, isn’t it?” commented the sparkling golden female in their midst.

  “It is,” answered For’son, feeling more than a little downcast, something the librarian quickly picked up on.

  “Don’t take it personally,” Orac quipped. “I only managed to catch you out because I knew your Achilles heel... your passion for seeking out undiscovered knowledge. Without that, I would have had nothing and no way to draw you out into the open. The ra-hoon don’t know that, and so they wouldn’t have been able to succeed.”

  Although true, it felt like a small crumb of comfort to the brilliant blue shaded warrior who very much felt as though he’d failed.

  “Right at the start, we both probed and prodded with all the magic that we had to try and break through to your mind,” noted the librarian. “To say we failed spectacularly would be something of an understatement. How did it feel for you?”

  Trying to take the positives from their little experiment, For’son considered his answer.

  “My mind felt as though it was walled off, that’s the only way I can explain it. But it worked both ways. With my eyes closed, while my intelligence felt safe and free from any attack, I couldn’t sense either of you, despite the fact that I knew you were there and could hear your breathing.”

  “Excellent!” exclaimed the repository’s guardian. “It means that the mantra worked and protected your mind. If it can do that, it should be able to keep the ra-hoon at bay, at least long enough for us to take them down.”

  That did seem like a positive, the warrior supposed, but there was one problem that currently they’d overlooked, not so much an elephant in the room but a multitude of dragons. And what would that be, I hear you ask?

  The captured kin of Keesha, who all currently remained under the spell of the dastardly unicorn lookalikes, because to get to the ra-hoon, almost certainly they’d have to go through those first.

  “You’re thinking about the villagers,” the young female announced, more of a statement than a question.

  “Some immunity to the mental acuity of the ra-hoon is welcome, but I don’t doubt for one second they’ll throw the whole lot at us, before I can get anywhere even vaguely close to them. And that’s going to be a problem.”

  “I don’t want them harmed,” Keesha contemplated out loud, “but, if there’s truly no other way, then it must be done. Under no circumstances should those monsters be allowed to co-opt any more beings. If it takes the lives of those that I regard as friends and family to do just that, then I say to you now, knowing each and every one of them, that’s what they would want you to do.”

  It was heartbreaking to hear her speak like that... not only so casually, but callously as well. No dragon so young should have to make decisions with such consequences.

  “What if we could draw them away?” suggested Orac.

  “Go on,” urged For’son.

  “Keesha and I could draw the dragon contingent away somewhere, giving you the chance to attack the ra-hoon themselves, ably protected by the mantra you’ve just tried out.”

  “Hmmm... it might work.”

  “D... d... d... do you think there’s a chance that my kin might come back after the beasts that have done this are slain?”

  For’son nodded at the librarian, urging him to answer the question, knowing that he understood what was involved a little more and would therefore be able to make a better judgement.

  “I can’t say for certain, but my best guess would be an optimistic yes. I can’t think for one minute that the minds and personalities of those under the control of the unicorn lookalikes have been wiped, only suppressed. If that’s the case, and it is a big IF, then I would surmise that if the ra-hoon are eliminated, then things should return to normal. It is only a guess.”

  “Based on all the evidence and experience that you have though,” added the warrior.

  “Yes.”

  Keesha nodded in thanks, pleased they’d been honest with her and not just come out and said what they thought she wanted to hear.

  “What do we do now?” asked the dazzling female, laying her head back next to the peach coloured rock she was sitting against.

  For’son took that one.

  “We make a plan for the morning.”

  As night fell and the twinkling stars started to reveal themselves, the three of them curled up beneath the secluded rocky overhang, high up on the perilous ridge that overlooked the valley, discussing battle tactics, attempting to find the perfect way to separate the ra-hoon from the dragons.

  On the valley floor, the white, grey and brown unicorn lookalikes, with two horns instead of the usual one, had curled up between a series of twenty metre tall rocks, all asleep, occasionally whinnying, their powerful magic still maintaining a grip on the dragons under them who were only a hundred or so metres away, themselves asleep, their snoring resembling that of a congested hippo, all but empty husks of their former selves.

  With an almighty yawn, accompanied by licks of searing orange and yellow flame from around the edges of his mouth and his huge scaled nostrils, Greger watched the slow trickle of thick gelatinous lava that slowly worked its way beneath his office floor, designed to heat and light up the room, all the time trying to shake off the fatigue that he felt from having very little sleep over the last couple of days, concern for his friends off in a faraway land partly to blame, worry about the Ahrensburg situation only compounding things further.

  Abruptly a knock on the door startled him from his far flung thoughts.

  “COME,” he said, a little more harshly than he’d meant to.

  In strolled Walker, a piece of parchment flapping about in one of his tiny hands.

  “Sire,” he said, bowing his huge brown prehistoric head as he did so.

  “Walker,” replied the king. “What do you have?”

  “They’ve replied, Majesty.”

  “And?”

  “It’s good news. They’re willing to host a diplomatic delegation with a view to discussing the cessation of hostilities.”

  Those words, not only lifted a huge weight off Greger’s shoulders, but put a gigantic smile across his scaled face.

  “Do they have some sort of timeframe?”

  “Three weeks.”

  “Wow... that’s not much time. Is there any kind of wriggle room?”

  “No. They were quite specific in their reply... here, see for yourself,” ventured Walker, handing the king the parchment.

  Taking a few moments to read what was in front of him, the monarch lost his previously gained smile, becoming more serious with every line that he read.

  “So,” he stated, more than a little annoyed, “it’s either in three weeks or not at all? Doesn’t that strike you as a little odd?”

  “A little, but perhaps it’s just one of their customs that we don’t know about. They seem to have many intricacies, from what little we do know.”

  “Hmmm...” mouthed Greger, more than a little sceptical and unimpressed.

  “It all seems... a little too good to be true, don’t you think Walker?”

  “I know what you’re saying, but we’ve done things the right way, and our contact, I’m assured, is one hundred percent reliable.”

  “Okay... we’ll take it on good faith at the moment. Round up a diplomatic team and start getting them as prepared as possible. I want them ready to move in exactly
three weeks. We’ll give them what they want.”

  “Okay sire. Who should I choose to lead the delegation?”

  “I’ll be choosing the leader,” observed the king, “and he won’t be a diplomat. Just gather up the rest of what’s needed and keep it small.. I want as few dragons as possible going.”

  “Understood,” answered Walker, bowing before turning and leaving, wondering who the hell would lead the delegation and why any number of the top diplomats hadn’t been selected for the job. Clearly, he thought, the king had other ideas.

  And the king did, with one individual specifically in mind for the role.

  Squinting across the horizon, warming the coolness of the desert, the sun lighting up their little pocket of shelter was enough to wake them all at about the same time. With the exception of telepathic “good mornings”, the first thing that For’son, Orac and Keesha did was to cautiously look out through the gaps in the rock nearest to them, down into the valley below, eager to see whether or not their opponents were still asleep. They were, the dragons’ snores resembling a combine harvester in a field full of glass.

  “Are you ready?” For’son asked, laying his pack on the floor, knowing that whatever the outcome, he wouldn’t need it for the time being.

  “Yes,” they replied simultaneously, each looking more than a bit sheepish.

  “It’ll be okay as long as you don’t deviate from the plan. Draw the dragons out, as many as you can, and lead them on the wildest goose chase possible. You already know the places where you can lose them... so Orac, follow her lead. If she gives you an instruction, do it as if your life depends on it... it probably will. Okay?”

  Two nods later, and they were ready to go.

  “Good luck,” voiced For’son, telepathically.

  “To us all,” added Keesha.

  And with that they were done, the warrior disappearing off towards the exit, before leaping over the massive drop off at the rear of the ridge, as the other two prepared themselves.

  “Remember,” whispered the gorgeous golden female through their link, “we don’t want to hurt any of the dragons. We just need to buy your friend some time.”

  “Understood,” replied the librarian, suddenly thinking of For’son as his friend. Was he? He supposed so, but when did that happen? It was almost as if it had sneaked up on him. Unable to remember a time when he’d had a true friend, briefly it made his heart warm at just the very thought. But there was no time to dwell on it, not here and not now, because right at this very moment, it was time to act. Following the beguiling female dragon out of the overhang, darkened clear blue sky above getting brighter by the second, as she leapt skywards he followed her lead, very much hoping that he would be reunited with his friend at the end of all this.

  Negotiating the wild and unpredictable currents and updrafts using all his worldly experience, almost getting slammed into the sheer cliffs twice from some unfavourable crosswinds, the king’s protector had successfully skirted the back of the huge ridge that rose up above the gorge they had sheltered on top of, and had turned back and entered the southern part of the valley, now gliding effortlessly low to the ground in total and utter silence, his menacing presence casting a shadow beneath him onto the hard, chilly ground, causing rodents, birds and insects to scatter in all directions, the blazing blue of his scales glinting in the dappled rays of first light. Abruptly he pulled up, spreading his mighty wings vertically, using them as air brakes, drawing to a halt on a rocky crest that was almost an island in an oasis of sand. From here he had the perfect view of his prey, the ra-hoon, not quite stirring, unable to shake off their previous night’s indulgences, and by that I mean all of the food stolen from the surrounding villages that they’d consumed. Mental fortifications already in place thanks to Orac’s mantra, he hoped he’d get the chance to add that to the London library which the two of them were very slowly developing. And then it hit him, in the same way it had Orac only a short while ago... they’d become firm friends over the course of their time spent arguing during all those late nights in the library. There and then, he made a vow to tell him once they’d gotten over all this, though that wasn’t straightforward by any means. Hunched down as close to the surface of the rocky crest as his massive frame could get, he focused on the mission, knowing that any distraction now could get him killed in an instant, and waited to see if the unicorn lookalikes did anything he could use against them.

  Having hopped over the side of the ridge, Orac and Keesha headed directly toward the dragon encampment, their mental shields raised, once again thanks to the mantra, both of them knowing not to lower them under any circumstances. They did both however, know the plan, having gone over it in as much detail as they could the previous evening. And so the golden, yellow and orange dragon slowed abruptly before reaching the valley floor, stopping amongst a sea of boulders. Orac dropped down beside her, giving her a conspiratorial wink as he did so. In unison, they picked up the heaviest rocks that they could, and as one, bounded into the fresh air, all the time heading for the sleeping encampment of dragons.

  Atop the rocky crest, cloaked in the long drawn out dawn shadows, For’son, his mind protected by Orac’s mantra, spotted the slightest movement below, and much like any hunter stalking its prey, waited to see what would happen.

  Shaking its head in an effort to become fully awake, unfurling its long tangled mane as it did so, the light brown coloured ra-hoon clambered to its feet, and as silently as possible, not wanting to wake up his cohorts, trotted off in the direction of the light orange stone island that the king’s friend and mighty warrior lay atop, much to his astonishment.

  ‘What the...?’ thought For’son, until he realised that the unicorn lookalike was doing what most beings do on waking up... going to relieve himself. And in that lay his chance to take out the first of them. Knowing that he needed to be not only quick, but silent as well, in a streak of burnished blue he dropped talons first towards his target.

  Wondering what the day would hold, still trying to shake off some of the sleepiness he felt, it was only when a rush of cold air washed over him that he realised something was wrong. But by then... it was too late!

  Unusually for any dragon, given their prehistoric, primal desires, For’son, despite his role as the king’s primary protector and guardian, had a dislike for any unnecessary violence. Of course he could fight, with him being one of the most courageous, able and decorated of his kind, his valiant deeds and selfless acts renowned across the kingdom, but he didn’t act on either a whim or a wont. He fought only when absolutely essential, and even then it went against everything he believed in.

  Here and now though, he was in the zone, knowing that not only were Keesha and Orac depending on him, but the rest of the dragons caught in the dreaded mental grip of the ra-hoon’s magic. And so he did what he was best at, slicing the singular beast’s head from his body in one fell swoop, executing his attack to perfection, even catching most of the monster’s mass before it could hit the ground and alert his comrades.

  ‘One down, six to go...’ he thought as he kicked sand across the blood he could see, before he picked up both the separated head and the body of the cadaver and with two flaps of his wings, landed back in his previous position, setting the carcass down behind him, knowing there was no way in hell his comrades would find it up there. If he could keep the element of surprise, and sow the seeds of doubt in their minds, that might help his cause a great deal.

  Pleased at having taken down one of them, wondering how long it would be before they noticed, out of nowhere something tickled his brain. Instantly alert for any kind of attack, the shield around his mind very much reining in his magical senses, at least for now, what he felt was like a singular rap on a door. And he knew what that meant. His friends were only thirty seconds out from surprising those dragons that were now serving the ra-hoon. And that meant if he wanted to inflict the most chaos and mayhem possible, he had to act... NOW! Shaking his huge primeval head, wondering
what the hell he was doing here in the first place, he took one last long deep breath, and stretching out his wings, bounded up into the air in the direction of the unicorn lookalikes, hoping to catch them unawares at exactly the same time his friends stirred up a hornet’s nest with the dragons under their control.

  Approaching the multitude of sleeping dragons, some she recognised as either friends or kin, about one hundred metres in the air, flying low because what they needed was accuracy rather than anything else, momentarily she looked back into the ever increasing sunlight to make sure the shy and retiring librarian was there right behind her... he was. With that confirmed, and the rocks she’d picked up firmly in the grasp of her talons down below her body, Keesha wished herself luck, checked that the mental barricades around her mind were still intact, and readied herself to act, desperate not to injure any of those below too badly.

  Afraid yet full of utter wonder and joy, Orac tailed the most stunning dragon he’d ever actually met by only a few metres, all the time aware of the encampment of dragons below them, something they were approaching rapidly. Thigh muscles burning from the intensity of carrying the two huge rocks beneath his squat little frame, compared with most of his kind, he hoped that he’d hold out until they reached the point at which they could release them. The idea, his in fact, had been to draw the dragons out by making them mad, something he hoped the rocks falling upon them would do, and get them to pursue, the expectation being that it would leave the ra-hoon defenceless and at the mercy of For’son’s particular set of skills. About to reach the drop zone, all the introverted librarian could think was... ‘GERONIMO!’

  Gearing up for his attack, the royal protector brought forth in his mind the words he would need to decimate the ra-hoon, and heading straight for them at speed, prepared to strike. What with, I hear you ask? Lightning, that if used correctly should annihilate each of the rocks that the monsters were sheltering amongst, turning them into the most vicious and effective shrapnel possible, ideally killing and wounding many of them, setting him on his way to what he was sure would become a lethal game of cat and mouse.