A Dragon Redeemed, Part 2
Apologies in advance for the less than perfect grammar, pronunciation, and other errors. I'm still looking for a Beta proof reader, but didn't want to wait any longer to see if this story would be well received. It is the first in a related series I'm working on called the "The Dragon Knight". I hope you enjoy it. Many thanks to Starallon who has been most encouraging to this goofy Mule.
The Dragon Knight,
A Dragon Redeemed, Part 2.
By
William W. Kelso
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Part 2.
It has been several weeks now since the incredible adventure in which I saved a child, and as a result ended my own lonely useless existence, and even more importantly made two friends for the first time in my life. A small girl that I loved, and a great man who had saved my life out of kindness though he had despised what I was at the time. He had healed the old wound in my shoulder that had kept me from flying for so many years, and from which I was dying of infection. Treasure comes where you can get it, and I was far richer now then I had even been before. I am a Green Dragon, but was something far less when these amazing events occurred. And only because of them am I true Dragon again, and only because of them can I fly again. The Great Drake can be merciful when he so desires. And now I was going to the town to visit my, and how I love that word, friends! And I now had more than two, as slowly other town folk had come to accept me as something other than the twisted evil thing I had been for so long. I had terrorized them, and preyed on their livestock for years, but one of them had saved my life, and now the others were glad to see me, instead of running in terror. Amazing! And with a thunderclap of wings I sprang into the air, rose clear of the trees, and quickly headed towards the town.
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My name is Marcus Aureilus, late of the Imperial Legions. After I retired from service I returned to my home town of Darkmoor, and had been appalled at how it had deteriorated over the years I was gone. It had been a fairly prosperous Imperial outpost and town when I left, making a good living from the rich mines in the countryside surrounding it. The mines had played out long before I left, but it had still been a nice town with a fairly large population. And I returned to find the old Imperial fort abandoned as the garrison had been withdrawn, and both it and the town had been slowly crumbling into ruin from neglect. Only a few thousand people remained, and even fewer merchants. Those that did were either too poor to leave, or had nowhere else to go. They made their living as charcoal burners, hunters, and other simple trades. The only real reason the town hadn't been totally abandoned was the medicinal plants that grew in the bogs and forest, they were the only true commerce the town still had. I had served as a groom and farrier in the Legions, so I set myself up as a Blacksmith, and brought in enough to make ends meet, and tried to put what I had left over back into the town. At my insistence a local militia was raised, and I was appointed commander and drill master. Our equipment was shabby left over junk dating from periods spanning hundreds of years. But we made due, and soon had a fairly credible militia and night watch. Not that there was much to guard against, and crime was very rare as we took care of our own.
The only real drawback had been a Green Dragon who had roamed the woods for years, killing anyone who ventured into his territory without question, and raiding our poor supply of livestock on a regular basis. No real effort had ever been undertaken to hunt the Dragon down as that would have taken Imperial Equestrian Knights at the very least. And all petitions to the Emperor had produced no results. The Empire had more important concerns then rodent problems in an isolated backwoods province. Some of the men wanted me to lead an expedition against the beast, but I knew we would have just been slaughtered. We even tried to attract the interest of professional adventurers, but they had heard the Dragon was poor and had a very small hoard, so they did not think it worth their time. And then something truly amazing, a miracle even, had occurred.
I had married shortly after returning to the Darkmoor, and I had loved my wife. Her name had been Delia, and she was an old childhood friend I was surprised to find was still unmarried when I returned from my military service. She bore me a daughter, but died as a result of the difficult birth. It had devastated me, but I in no way blamed my daughter, and loved her all the more dearly as she was all I had left. Her name was Susan, and she married a hard working lad named Claudius. And they had a daughter, whom they named Delia, much to my delight. And she did look like my own Delia, and the child was the light of my life. And tragically just two years after her birth her father was killed in a tragic accident. He had been good to my daughter, and had been as good a Son-in-Law as I could have asked for, and his death left an empty hole in both of our hearts. Fortunately Delia had been too young to remember much about him, but I did tell her whenever she asked. I would tell her how big and strong her father was, what a happy good man he had been, and how he had loved her and her mother so very much, and hadn't wanted to go away. Delia was the joy of our lives, but she was also a headstrong little thing. To tell her not to do something, or not to go somewhere, was just an invitation to do so. She insisted on helping her mother, who was an herbalist and medicine maker. She would sneak off into the woods, or even worse the bogs, in order to find the rare plants her mother needed. No matter how many times we scolded, we even paddled her once, she kept on doing it. It was not unusual for her to return after dark, filthy but with a basket full of rare and valuable pants and fungi. It was hard to be mad when she did that! The plants she gathered easily counted for a large portion of our income.
Then came the day when everything changed, for my family, the town of Darkmoor, and for a poor lonely beast. Delia came back one day from one of her strictly forbidden visits to the bogs, and was encrusted from head to foot in muck, and had lost her basket. Then she told a wild story about a big lizard who had saved her from a bog, and that it was hurt and needed help. At first I didn't believe her even though she rarely told a lie, though she did tend to stretch the truth on occasion. But she had become so upset about her injured friend, and had started going back to the bogs to look for him almost every day. Finally, more out of frustration then for any other reason, I had accompanied her to the bogs to try and convince her there was no "big green lizard" there, What I found had shocked me. She had showed me the bog she had been mired in, and I could clearly see the disturbed and churned place where she had fallen through the layer of leaves and other debris that hid the deadly soft ground. And I could also clearly see the deep tracks of a Dragon in the soft earth! There was no mistaking those great prints not unlike those of a giant bird of prey. And even more sobering had been the large amounts of blood that had pooled in the spot the Dragon had taken her after pulling her from the bog. And I was ashamed I had not believed my granddaughter, but I was also concerned for the great beast who had saved her. He had obviously lost a lot of blood, and she said he had been "crying". So I had gathered together my old veterinary and farriers kits and gone in search of the beast. I had found him almost dead in his lair, and despite misgivings had done my best to heal him. My efforts helped, and he had fully recovered, even regaining his ability to fly. And a few days later he had come to the town to show his appreciation, and it turned out he was just a child at hear t himself, a scared lonely child who had lived a horrible life. And he was so pitifully grateful just to have someone call him a friend, to show they cared for him, that it had touched my heart. And since then he has become a great and true friend, and I knew he loves my granddaughter as much as I do. And he has made many new friends, whether he knows it or not, in the town of Darkmoor. Now when we hear his roars we look up in delight and anticipation of a visit, we no longer run in terror. He is welcome here, and he knows it.
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I announced my impending arrival with a great roar, and dropping in a swift dive I stooped to come to a perfect landing near the main gate. Farmers and workers on the road waved and called greetings, to which I politely replied, and the guards waved. And almost instantly I was surrounded by a hoard of screaming, squealing children, and I gave squeals of delight of my own. I lowered my wing so several of them could clamber up on my back, and I gave them "horsie" rides. Prancing and snorting like a big pony. And their laughter was what I lived for now, far greater than any other treasure in my hoard. And then came the special rides, but only with permission of their parents! And they all begged to be the first, but as always I picked a small male child with a crippled leg, I think because I could understand what it was like to be crippled. Gently, but firmly, I grasped him in my hands. Say when! I told him. "WHEN!" he yelled, and with a great leap I sprang into the air! And he screamed and yelled in pure delight as I took him on a flight high over the valley, then made steep dives and swooped over the city, his sheer joy making my hearts soar! His ride was always a little longer than most, but I made sure every child who had permission got a ride. But after awhile, much to their dismay, I told them I had to go see "Uncle Marcus". They didn't like it, but they cheered up when I said I'd be back for more rides. I was just able to enter the town through the old Imperial Gate, and as I emerged on the others side an older human female, obviously embarrassed, gave me a large smoked sausage, one of my favorites! Thank you, Lady, I said. And she giggled like a child herself, and ran back to her shop. Amazing, just weeks ago she would have fainted in terror if I had been that near to her! And more friendly greetings, and cries of "Glad to see you again!" met me as I walked down the broad main street to the old city square where Marcus had his Smithy. With as gentle a knock as I could manage I announced my presence.
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When I heard the loud booming knock on the Smithy doors I knew who it was of course, and I'd already heard his massive steps anyway. When the very ground trembles it's hard NOT to notice! Dajor, I called, I'm in the back at the open forge! And presently that horribly frightening green head came curving around the side of building, the huge mouth full of fangs opened, and he said "Hey Marcus, whatcha doing?" Hey Major, I replied, good to see you again. Say, can you help me with this piece of iron, I just can't seem to get it hot enough! I think my oven needs cleaning again. "No problem!" Dajor replied, and he spurted a little fire flux into the oven, and then reaching into the Smithy he put his huge front foot/hand on the bellows and started to pump. And almost instantly the flames became white hot and in no time the iron was soft and malleable, and I was soon done making the repair. Yes, I thought, having a Dragon for a friend definitely has its advantages! Well, I said, that's it for today! Time to get ready for the Fall Festival! Dajor was curious as to what that was, so I told him as we wandered over to the tavern for a drink.
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Even though I knew I couldn't, I always tried to sneak up on Marcus. But he always knew I was coming, but how I didn't know. I guess he just smelled me or something, and I knew that I didn't exactly smell like flowers. But I had been bathing more often so I would not offend, honest! As usual Marcus was hard at work, banging away at something on one of his forges. When he asked for my help I was more than glad to be of assistance, and soon had the forge oven bellowing like a Dragon. He was very pleased with my help, and then said he was taking the day off for something called the Fall Harvest. I was curious about it, so he told me on the way over to the local tavern for some, oh yummy, beer! Most Dragons don't really drink, and if we do we don't really get drunk. But I enjoyed the taste of beer, and I could tell it helped with my digestion, so I always bought a cask or two.
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Dajor, I said as we walked along taking our time. The Fall Festival is very important, it marks the end of the growing season, when all the crops have been brought in. It is a time for the farmers to take a well deserved rest, and we give gifts and have a great feast, to which of course you are invited! And when he asked questions I answered as best I could. He seemed amazed when I told him how long it took to grow, care for, and harvest the crops. And I also explained why we gave gifts to one another, to show our appreciation for one another's labors and to make everyone happy. When we reached the tavern he ordered his usual two kegs of beer or ale, paying for it with much appreciated gold coins. And as usual he also bought a round for everyone there, which was just about every male, and more than one woman, of drinking age in the town. Everyone knew when he arrived, and they always gathered for the free drinks. I had told him once he was being taken advantage of, but he just snorted and said he "liked the attention". And it certainly didn't hurt his reputation! After a couple of beers of my own we said our goodbyes for the day, and he left to resume giving "Pony rides" to the children, and if you watched the Dragon and the children it was impossible to decide who was having the most fun. And he was so careful and gentle with them. Yes, he was a dear and valued friend.
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As we headed towards the tavern Marcus told me about the Fall Festival. I had never heard of such a thing, but I came to understand why humans celebrated it. I was a carnivore, and my regular diet was the raw meat of my prey. I ate the same thing all year long, and if I wasn't successful on a hunt it meant little as Dragons can go for many weeks without eating. It had never occurred to me how hard the humans worked to raise their food crops for themselves and their animals. And I felt somewhat humbled, so much hard work and most of them were still so poor. Then Marcs explained how, and why, they gave gifts to one another. And again I was amazed, to give gifts while expecting nothing in return! It was a foreign concept to me, and I doubt if any other Dragons would have understood. To give something for nothing, amazing! But then I remembered how I had given some small trinkets from my hoard to Delia and her mother, and how strangely good that had felt. And when he told me I was invited I was shocked, and I hadn't even helped with any of their labors! When we got to the tavern I ordered two kegs of beer for myself, and also bought a round for everyone present as I didn't want to be a pig. And I paid with my own coin, which was also a new experience for me. Usually we Dragons just take whatever we want, and the previous owners are usually in no shape to protest. Marcus told me I was being taken advantage of, but I truly didn't care as I just enjoyed the company. After having been alone for so long I couldn't get enough! After we finished our drinks, and were given some very enthusiastic, if somewhat garbled, toasts in our honor or something like that, we went our ways. I returned to my favorite pastime as a surrogate Pony for the children to ride, but as I galloped around like a big idiot, prancing and snorting, I also did some serious thinking.
The Fall Harvest Festival was just two days away, the same day I had scheduled my next visit. And when I arrived it was amazing, the whole town had changed. There were bright decorations everywhere, just about every house had a decorative wreath or cornucopia on display, and a huge feast had been prepared in the middle of the main square commons. I could smell it long before I arrived, and I was drooling by the time I arrived. Most Dragons don't care for cooked meat, but I had developed a taste for it over my years of flightless scavenging, and smoked anything was my favorite. And to my immense delight they had prepared a whole roast cow for me alone! It was a tremendous treat, and I knew how much it had cost them as meat was never plentiful in Darkmoor. And I was given even more gifts all evening, mostly bits of smoked meats, but once a large bowl of some delicious stew that I couldn't identify. And soon I was stuffed to the glands! It was by far the best meal I had ever had. And either no one noticed, or didn't care, that I gave no gifts in return. The only gift I gave was a detailed carving I had made of a Dragon over the last few days, spending hours carefully carving the large lump of green quartz with my talons. When I gave it to Delia she had shrieked in delight, and Marcus's smiling face was a gift in return. And finally it was time for me to go, and everyone was disappointed that the guest of honor, ME? The guest of honor!, was leaving. No, please stay they had said, it is early yet! But the Festival is just getting started! Hardest of all for me to leave were the children who were terribly upset I was leaving early. But I wasn't leaving quite yet, I had something to do first.
I took flight, circled a couple of times bellowing my goodbyes, and disappeared into the night. But I didn't leave, not yet. I flew to just outside the gates and retrieved a large heavy sack. Then I took flight again, this time flying too high to be seen I started circling the town square again, watching the dancing happy humans around the big bonfires. My friends, I thought in wonder. And then I took one of my talons and cut a long tear in the side of the sack, and then watched in delight as the gold and silver coins began to spill forth. And it felt so good! My Fall Harvest gifts to my friends!
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It had been a great Fall Harvest Festival so far, the harvest had been excellent, and for once we knew we would not go hungry this winter. Even our friend the Dragon had had a great time, the townsfolk had chipped together to buy a cow for him, and I had roasted it just the way I knew he liked. He was like child himself as he partied with us, spending most of his time with his adopted children friends. He would sit with children perched all over him, chuffing in delight. And when he gave Delia a large beautifully carved Green Dragon in emerald colored quartz I had been speechless. He must have worked on it for days, a true gift from the heart! When I tried to thank him he had been embarrassed, and said "Marcus, it is nothing!" But no, it wasn't, not to myself or my daughter. It would always be her most prized possession. And we all were sad when he announced he had to leave, way before the end of the festival celebrations. Yes, he was a good and true friend. But I could never have guessed just how good until the sky opened up and began to rain gold and silver coins! At first everyone was confused when the coins began to hit us, and we thought it might be starting to rain, even though it was a clear night. Then I heard voices start to exclaim, By the Mother, gold coins! It's raining gold coins! And looking up I saw the silhouette of a Dragon cross the face of the moon for just a second. Why you great big soft-hearted beast, I thought, tears running down my face. You are giving us your gifts the only way you know how! Of course I know you'll deny it, but we all know!
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And for five years I continued my regular visits to the town, and my friends were always glad to see me no matter how often I plagued them with my appearances. Of course the children never seemed to mind. Even some of the adults had asked to go on flights. I was more than glad to share my gift of flight, and the adults yelled in wonder just as loud as the children did! And what few visitors they had must have been shocked to see a huge Dragon playing horsie for a pack of screaming children, or been terrified to see a great beast carrying a happily screaming maiden through the air! But those were the good times, and unknown to us the bad times were quickly approaching.
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It had been a good run of years, four years of bumper crops with no major losses to storms or early frost were rare. That and the gifts from an "unknown" source every Fall Festival night had greatly improved the fortunes of Darkmoor. And the Dragon, no matter how much I pestered him , refused to admit any knowledge of where the gifts came from. Many buildings had been rebuilt, and the medicinal plants trade had grown highly profitable now that we no longer feared to enter the forest. In fact our friend the Dragon had been glad to point out where the best plants could be found. It was he, more than any other reason, that saved our town. I don't know if he realized it, but we did. He was OUR Dragon, and we were fiercely protective of him and his reputation. Any traveler who dared to make a unflattering comment about our Dragon was soon sent packing, often with bodily injuries. We had even renamed the town tavern "The Happy Dragon", and he had been so touched he'd had to leave so we couldn't hear him blubbering. But I should have known from my Imperial service that good things don't last, and sooner or later the bad things come. We had grown complacent, and would soon pay for it.
I had heard some rumors of more frequent raids by Orcs and other dark minions from travelers, and even reports of a buildup of dark forces, but had not paid much attention. There were always such rumors, and we were far from the main frontier marches, and thought our poor town was of no strategic value. So when the attack came it caught us totally by surprise! It came early one morning as the farmers were heading out to their fields, and many were slaughtered on the road before they had time to flee into the relative safety of the forest, and the main gate fell before the two guards could close it though they gave their lives trying, and the Orcs and other raiders burst into the town with no resistance! The first I realized what was happening was when a young man burst into the Smithy in panic, "Marcus, he yelled, Orcs inside the walls, they've taken the main gate!" Knowing I didn't have time to don my armor, I grabbed my old Imperial short sword, and telling the boy to ring the alarm bell I headed for the old Imperial Keep as I knew the people would be fleeing there as it was the only defensible position. And as I ran I began to see spots of resistance, small groups of town folk fighting for their lives, and stopped more than once to rally them and tell them to move to the Keep. But my first concern was my daughter Susan, and Delia! Once I was challenged by a mounted Orc rider, but I had no time to waste so made short work of the foul creature. I had been an Imperial Groom to the Equestrian Knights, and I knew how to fight cavalry. I grabbed his horse's bridle in one hand, while blocking his riders blows with my sword, and forced the horse to kneel and lay down. After that it was easy to kill the now pinned Orc rider. Mounting the horse I rode quickly to my house, and was relieved when Susan came out to greet me, and Delia was with her. I gave Susan the horse since she was an excellent rider, and told her to take Delia to the Keep. She didn't have to be told twice. Then I went to see what I could do to save as many others as possible. And I thanked the Mother it was Tuesday, and any time now the Dragon would come to visit. Oh, please Mother! I prayed, let him come! He is our only hope!
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With an eager snort I left the old mine, and opening my wings with a loud clap I sprang into the air. The air was warm and clear, just the way I like it. And it was Tuesday, the butcher would have a lovely barrel of offal and other delicacies for me! And as I flew towards the town I noticed there were no farmers in the fields. It was puzzling as it was already mid-morning, and they should have been at work. I always liked to swoop low over the fields and watch them waving up at me. And as I got closer to town I suddenly noticed something by the side of the road. I zoomed in my binocular vision on what looked like lumps of dirty clothes on, and beside, the road. In sudden horror I realized they were the bodies of unmoving humans! I put on my air brakes, dipping and flaring my wings to cause drag, and stooped to land by the unmoving forms. And as I landed I could smell freshly spilled blood. In horror I looked down at an older man studded with arrows, and then another and another! Some with arrows, others with horrible gashes and hack wounds! Some had tried to fight, but they had been totally helpless! Who, I thought, who would do this! And then I saw a smaller bundle of blood stained clothes, lying next to the father who had tried to defend him. I gently turned over the small body, and shrieked when I saw the horrible wounds! It was the little crippled boy named Claudius who had so loved the flights I took him on! He had been special to me as I knew what it was like to be crippled! And he had been butchered! Who would butcher a helpless child who could not even run! I licked his wounds, praying for some signs of life, but he was gone. I held his tiny little body to my chest, and rocking back and forth I keened in agony, not understanding. Ohhhh my little friend! I wailed, Nooo! Nooo! Why! Who did this to you!, Noooo!" And as I held his little body I looked up and saw pillars of smoke rising from the direction of the Darkmoor. And gently I laid him back down, not wanting to leave him, but I had something I needed to do. And with a Roar of grief and growing rage I sprang back into the air, and moving fast and low I headed towards Darkmoor. And an enraged Dragon is a truly terrible thing.
And soon I was rapidly approaching the town, and as I approached I passed over Orcs and other foul servants of the Dark Lady who were also heading towards the town. I didn't stop for them as I knew my friends would be fighting for their lives, but I did incinerate one troop of heavy cavalry with a plume of fire flux, and left behind a screaming cauldron of hell on earth. I didn't even have time to feel sorry for the horses. I approached the wall at ground level, and then swooped up and over it and quickly took in the situation. There were small desperate battles raging everywhere. But the first thing I did was to seal the gate by bending a large iron bar through the bar brackets, that way anymore enemy reinforcements would have to scale the wall. It would slow them down some. And then I headed towards the Keep as I knew that would be the rallying point, but on the way I destroyed every foul Orc or other beast I encountered, and most never knew what hit them. At one point I went to the aid of several young militia men who were holding the entrance to an ally protecting some women and children. From the looks of things they had been giving better then they got, but they could not have held out much longer. I left forty dead foot soldiers in my wake in less than one minute. And I did not just kill them, I tore then apart, screeching and roaring in anger! How DARE you threaten my friends, I screamed!
And then I reached the main square, and saw the desperate battle raging at the causeway leading to the old Imperial fortress. A band of pike men and other militia, led by Marcus, were holding the bridge so as many refuges as possible could cross. They were being hard pressed by a large force of heavy infantry including Minotaurs, and despite heroic resistance were being slowly driven back. And more and more enemy troops were arriving. With a snap of my wings I climbed for altitude, then I made a pass over the main enemy force, and again I unleashed hell on earth and killed what must have been close to at least a hundred of the foul things. Then I stood on my tail and climbed for altitude again and climbed to a great height and as I climbed I made prayer to the Great Drake "Great Drake! I call to you to watch me as I engage my enemies in combat, to judge me by my valor, and if am worthy to allow me a home in your great Kingdom in the Sky!", and turning in midair I closed my wings and fell towards the raging battle like a bolt from a crossbow. At the last possible second I spread my wings and reared up, coming to a halt about ten feet off of the ground, and I proceeded to slaughter the enemy using both my taloned feet and hands, my tail, and my fangs. I crushed and rent them with my claws, my whipping tail slicing and disemboweling with every powerful stroke, my jaws crushing and tearing them in half. And they were brave, and they fought back as best they could. It is said a Dragon relishes combat, but that is true only if he faces worthy foes. I stayed aloft until my wings were too shredded to keep flying, so I landed and fought on the ground, crushing several of them in the process. I fought the huge Minotaurs, killing one with an aimed glob of fire flux to the face, and killed the others with my bare claws despite their mighty blows, and they died well, bellowing their battle cries. And I was wounded again and again. And yet still I fought, and the whole time I screeched and roared my rage, my battle cries terrible to hear for both friend and foe alike. And attracted by my roars, the other enemies in the town were drawn to the battle and to the aid of their fellows. But it did them no good, again and again they attacked and tried to overwhelm me and bring me down, and every time I dealt death with a horrible efficiency like they had never seen before. And finally they broke and ran, but I was too spent and weak to follow, and with a long drawn out moan I collapsed onto the heap of enemy dead that surrounded me. And I was vaguely aware of Marcus leading a counter attack that washed over me and drove the remainder of the enemy to their deaths, unable to escape through the gate I had sealed.
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As I ran through the town I rallied as many militia to me as I could, and as soon as I had a sizeable group I would send them to reinforce the keep, often escorting terrified civilians at the same time. The town of Darkmoor did not have a large population as much of the town was abandoned, so there were plenty of good hiding places and defensible areas. Our only good fortune was that the Orcs and other enemy troops had spread out, more interested in loot then humans. And that would cost them dearly. I had to stop by myself, or sometimes with a few militiamen, to fight short pitched battles. But the larger better protected groups were largely unmolested as they fled to the keep. But more and more of the raiders were arriving, and I could hear some of their officers organizing some of the more disciplined units. Time to head for the keep! I acquired another mount from an Orc who had no choice in making me a "gift" of the horse, and had to fight my way through more than one small group of enemy troops. And as I approached the old keeps causeway there was a battle raging there. I rode my horse right through the enemy lines, and they were too started to stop me. Leaping from the horse I took my place in the line, my presence helping to rally the militiamen. "It's Marcus!, they cried with a cheer!", and pressing forward they managed to drive the enemy back, opening up the causeway for more refugees to cross before they were cut off. And we held the approach as long as we could, but increasing enemy numbers slowing pushed us back onto the causeway, and we would die there as I had already ordered the portcullis and gates to the old keep closed and barred. Some archers from the keep lent what aid they could, but it was only matter of time. Then there came a gift from heaven in the form of a horribly enraged Dragon! His first pass destroyed over a hundred of the enemy in a roaring inferno, and a great cheer went up from my myself and my brave soldiers. But then he seemed to disappear, and both my men and the enemy craned their necks looking for this new arrival.
"There!" yelled someone, and looking straight up I could see a small speck rapidly plummeting towards the earth, growing larger and larger until I could see the great maw opened in a heart-stopping roar of enraged HATE, and I actually felt sorry for the enemy for a few seconds. And they never knew what hit them, one minute he was plunging like an out of control projectile, and the next he was in their midst and wreaking horrible slaughter. It was beautiful and terrible at the same time. He hovered as long as he could, then landed and stood in their center with enemies on all sides, and he butchered them like it was the easiest thing in the world. Whole bodies and pieces went flying in all directions, great gouts of blood spraying like ruby fountains, and the whole time he bellowed and roared in rage! And more and more of the enemy came to try and aid their fellows, attracted by his roars and the sound of battle. And it did them no good. We tried, oh how we tried, to go to his aid, but there were too many of the enemy facing us, and at best we could keep them off the causeway. We watched in helplessness as he fought several great Minotaurs, but they were no match for him even several at a time. And they died one by one until none were left. And finally the enemy, their best troops annihilated, broke and fled with the vengeful militia in hot pursuit. And only a few managed to escape by jumping off the walls. We later estimated there had been five hundred troops in the dark minions raiding party, and of those maybe fifty escaped. We found over three hundred in the pile of dead around the Dragons stand.
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Finally there were no more to kill, and as the remaining few fled all I could do was collapse from the pain and exhaustion. I lay for a short while trying to draw enough breath into my aching lungs, my head resting on the body of one of the Minotaurs who had fought so well. I felt it was fitting I would die with my enemies, many of them brave and worthy foes. It was a good way for a Dragon to die. Maybe my fellows would hear of my stand, and realize the runt had been a true Dragon after all! That would be nice. I could see arrows and a few spears sticking from my body like a pincushion, but I felt no real pain, only a growing numbness. And again I remembered a small dead child who had loved me, and again I started to grieve now that the battle was over. And I grieved for those others I couldn't save. I grieved for my friends who had died because I wasn't there for them when they needed me most. I lay there softly keening, until I passed out. I woke up briefly when I heard a familiar voice, and found Marcus sitting with me, holding my head, and crying. He was saying something, but I couldn't hear him. "Marcus, I managed to say, is Delia all right? Did I do good?" And before I passed out again I him say, "Oh yes, my angel, you saved us all!" And I was content as I slipped back into unconsciousness.
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In awe and horror I slowly approached the great heap of bodies, it was like a scene from some slaughter house in Hell. Every inch of ground for over fifty yards in any direction was covered in gore and bodies or pieces of bodies. I was a seasoned warrior, and even I had difficulty in not vomiting at the horror and stench of spilled intestines. "Sweet Mother!", I said softly. But I climbed and made my way through that horrible field, my only desire to reach my friend, the friend that had saved a whole town. As I got closer I knew he was alive as I could hear a soft keening sound, but it wasn't one of pain, it was a lament of sadness and I knew he was grieving for his friends. That remarkable beasts only concern as he lay sorely wounded was for his friends! And finally I reached him, and was horrified at his wounds! He was covered in arrows and not a few spears, and I could see rents in his hide and wings, and I couldn't tell where his own blood and that of the fallen enemies started! And to my dismay one of the arrows was embedded in one of his eye sockets! He was still alive, but his breathing was fast and shallow, and mercifully he was unconscious now. And I sat down and took that horrible head in my lap, and held him as hard as I could. And as I cried I begged him not to die, told him we still needed him, that I still needed my friend, that he had saved us all. And briefly he woke up, but was confused until he saw me. "Marcus, he said, is Delia all right, did I do good?" And how could I reply to that? So I called him an angel, and told him he had saved us all. And that seemed to comfort him as he passed out again, his head still in my lap.
I didn't even hear the approach of the others until I heard Delia screaming, Dajor ! Dajor! I turned and yelled at the approaching people, "Get her OUT of here, she can't see this!" and one of the women grabbed her by the hand and led her away, wailing for her friend and still trying to go to him. I looked up to find several blood splattered soldiers staring down at the horrible scene. "DON'T JUST STAND THERE, HELP ME, HE'S DYING! YOU, get my veterinary kit! YOU, go to the apothecary and bring all the medicine and bandages you can! YOU, organize every healer and hedge witch in the town and start gathering the wounded! YOU, townspeople, start to clear away this trash so we can move him to someplace where I can work! And as I bellowed order after the order the whole town rallied for one cause, to save their friend and savior. It was a sight to see, old men and women dragging bodies of fallen Orcs and other creatures away to burn in a great pyre. Soldiers clearing the way to move the injured Dragon to a clean place where I could work on him in the shade of some trees out of the hot sun. Children picking up the smaller pieces of bodies, and cleaning up the worst of the gore by spreading sand and gravel over the mess. The other healers quickly collected our wounded and tended to them. There were surprisingly few as most of those caught by the enemy had been killed outright. Most were from the farmers and other workers who had been caught in the open with no chance to flee, but more than a few had managed to play dead or escape into the woods.
And slowly and carefully I worked on the Dragons horrible wounds, aided by other healers now that their services were no longer need elsewhere. At first I thought it was hopeless, his breathing was ragged and shallow and I feared internal wounds from the great battering the Minotaurs had give him with their great war hammers. I had cringed as I heard the sound of those mighty blows that would have crushed an armored knight like a bug. But still we worked in calm professional efficiency, we would not stop until he breathed his last. First I removed the arrow from his eye, and knew that he would be blind in that eye if he lived. But I was relieved to find that many of the wounds were fairly superficial. One of the other healers worked on his wings, carefully sewing the rents and holes with cat gut. Few of the arrows had penetrated beyond his scaly armor, and only one spear and one lance had gone deep. One was in a leg and not life threatening, but the one in his chest is what worried me. A dark knight had driven his lance in deeply as his last act before dying at the claws of his foe. It took two of us to pull that shattered lance from the Dragons chest, and as we did he gave a great moan of pain and for several horrible seconds stopped breathing, but then his chest suddenly rose again in a great heave and his horrible labored breathing started again. I knew the lance had some close to his great hearts, but not if it had actually pierced one or nicked a great vein. I knew if that had happened there was nothing I could do. So I packed the horrible wound as best I could, using all my skill to stop the blood, and bandaged it as best I could. And finally after hours I was through, and we had done best we could.
While I worked on him it had been strangely quiet, but I really hadn't noticed. And as night had fallen lanterns had been brought so the other healers and I could still see to work. We had worked for over ten hours, and now it was up to the Gods. Now as I turned around I saw an amazing sight. I honestly think every person in town, young and old, had been standing and watching me work on our great friend. Even the children had been perfectly quiet, their tear stained faces shining in the lantern light. And many of the wounded soldiers and town folk had hobbled, or had their friends carry them over to where they could watch and keep vigil. And Delia dashed by me and threw herself around the Dragons neck, and refused to let go. So I let her stay with her friend for the rest of the night, I felt it couldn't hurt. "Marcus, I heard voices asking me, how is he? Will he live? We will pray for him., and so on. And I knew I had to make an announcement. "He is resting now, but he was most grievously injured. If he is still alive by morning, he will have a fighting chance. Now please, go home and rest!" But I doubt if a single person left that silent crowd. My friend I thought, if only you could see this. And I made a prayer of my own to the Great Drake, and it was very simple , "You can't have him yet! We need him more than you do!" And I lay down wearily next to his side, and fell into the deep exhausted sleep that claims soldiers after a great battle.
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I gave a great guttural snort, and tried to raise my head. Where am I, I wondered? And my chest hurt horribly. But then I heard a happy cry, and was aware of someone hugging my neck, and smelled Delia! She had grown into a, I'm told beautiful, young woman, but to me would always be a child. For some reason I couldn't see her with my left eye, so I carefully moved my head so I could see her with my other eye. She was hugging me and crying, but they were tears of happiness. I'm not dead?, I wondered in surprise. This was twice now I had given myself over to the Great Drake, and twice now he had not taken me. I was sure I was dying, but maybe he didn't want me yet. And as I listened I realized there were a great many other voices raised in happiness. With another snort I raised my head further, being careful not to dislodge Olvia, and to my great surprise there must have been over a hundred other people standing and watching! And more arriving every minute! And they were clapping their hands, and everyone had a great beaming smile on their faces! Surely not for ME, I thought! Then they started to sing, "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow". And then I realized Marcus was there too, and as I looked at him he looked back at me with tears in his eyes, and said "Yes, dear friend, it's for you!" And with a soft sigh I fell back asleep, the sounds of my friends soothing me into a deep slumber.
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And slowly but surely our great benefactor recovered from his horrible wounds. And I think it was just as much from the love of his numerous friends as his own remarkable vitality. I have never seen wounds like his heal so fast, or so well. First the wounds would heal, and then his scales would grow back over them. But he would still have scars, and was blind now in his left eye. Even he couldn't grow a new eye. And the first time he woke up was many days after the battle, but we were there for him. At first he was dazed and a little confused, but seemed to know he was going to live. And so the whole town cared for him, bringing him as much as he could eat as he was ravenous after his long fast and he needed great amounts of raw meat to help him heal faster and recover. Hunters scoured the woods for game, and many donated livestock. He ate us out of house and home, but we didn't care. And finally came the day when he could walk again, and then the even greater day when he could fly again. The whole town stood in the square as he tentatively tested his wings, and then cheered as he launched himself into the air, and swooped overhead roaring in ecstasy. And then one day he asked me something which took me completely by surprise, so I led him to the town cemetery, and watched as he rocked back and forth and keened over the little graves there, saying goodbye in the Dragon way to the little friends he had loved so much. And there were so many of them. I don't know if he prayed to the Mother, the Great Drake, or to both, but somehow I know they heard him. And I would often find him there in the future, just sitting and doing nothing for hours. I think he was listening for the sound of laughter in that peaceful quiet place.
END of Part 2
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