The Dragon Master's Son 14 & 15

Chapter 14

'Dragon Master. Dragon Master.' The dragon's calm thoughts gently coaxed John awake. He opened his eyes a little but kept his head on the saddle. The sky was dark. Night had descended.

“I'm awake,” John croaked. “Are we at Hepplestone?”

'Almost, but you need not concern yourself with Hepplestone. I have another job for you to do.'

John tried to push himself upright, but his arms were drained of their strength. He remained, head on the saddle and arms hanging limply on the dragon's side.

'That's fine, don't worry,' the dragon responded soothingly. 'You will have have little to do. I will place you where you need to be and indicate what you have to do.'

John was relieved. He really didn't have the strength just now to even recall his own name. There was no way he could follow a complicated plan or series of instructions. Once more, John began to feel that queasy feeling in his stomach. He was being moved again.

John found himself in a large kitchen with stone walls. The windows were shuttered and the room was weakly lit by a dying fire. Except for John, the kitchen was empty. In front of him lay a large worktable, laid out with equipment for cooking. As well as the pans, bowls and plates, there was a selection of large cleaving knives. John felt he should pick one up, so he did. He examined the large, pointed blade, as it reflected the orange glow of the fire. The queasy feeling re-entered his stomach. John closed his eyes. He was barely awake and was tired in ever aching bone of his body.

John forced open his eyes once more. Now, he was in a corridor. A vaguely familiar corridor. Again, stone walls and wooden, shuttered windows, but this time flaming torches in sconces all along the wall lit the floor which led away, far into the distance. This was the castle at Harburn. King Elfram's castle. John wanted to run and tell the King of the blow the dragons had dealt the Sharm at Bayton, but the sound of steady foot falls on the stone flags drew his attention. He watched the hooded figure, head down, looking at the floor, approach. The man obviously hadn't noticed John's arrival, for he drew to a surprised halt and looked up. As the hood fell back, and revealed the man's face, John recognised him. He was one of the attacker's from earlier that day, in the forest outside the woodcutter's cottage. The man looked shocked to see the boy, standing in the castle. He glanced down at the knife John was holding. With an involuntary lunge, John found his arm extended and he could feel the fabric of the man's cloak against his hand. John withdrew his hand, and the bloody knife. The man place both hands on his stomach, then collapsed on the floor.

John was now fully awake, fully aware of what he had done, when the queasy feeling re-entered his stomach.

Now he stood outside, a near full moon illuminating the castle and moat before him. He could feel the urging in his arm. There was no need to be asked twice. He threw the bloodied weapon as hard as he could into the moat. The sound of the knife gratefully striking the water coincided with John's final journey of the night.

Once more, John sat astride the dragon. He assumed the scorched earth and burning trees were all that remained of the Ipecean army.

Chapter 15

“Why?”

It had taken almost all of the flight back to Harburn for John to come to terms with the full horror of what had happened. He had been silent throughout the journey, unable to construct a sentence that adequately expressed how he felt. He had never killed a man before and the terrified expression on the man's face wouldn't leave him. The single word question was all he was able to say.

'Because he saw you.' The dragon's statement was plain fact, free of the emotions that were churning, nauseatingly, inside the boy.

“What do you mean, he saw me?” John replied angrily. Just because someone had seen you, was not reason enough to kill them.

'When I took you from the horse in the forest, he watched you disappear. He was making his way to inform Crispan of your magical powers. That was why he needed to be stopped. You do not want Crispan knowing of your powers. You still need to stay close to him. You still need to find out what he plans to do next.'

John ceased his questioning. Once again, he could see how old, how wise and how powerful this dragon was. How much it was thinking and planning every second of the day. And the thought of that great mind inside such a deadly body stopped John from asking any more questions, though he still wasn't happy with what he'd been made to do.

The silhouette of King Elfram's castle began to emerge on the horizon. The Harz Green peeled away. John watched as the giant beast flew off towards the Keyocks.

“Do you think he lives in a cave in the mountains?”

'What makes you think it's a he?' came back the cryptic reply. John considered this revelation as the Welsh Red dove into the mouth of the cavern beneath the castle. The moonlit night was instantly switch for the humid gloom of the air above the underground lake. Bats flapped out of the dragon's way, as it swooped towards its ledge. A ledge that was occupied.

“We have company.”

John looked around the dragon's neck at the rapidly growing figure, flanked by a couple of guards. With a shock of alarm, John realised who it was and he looked very angry. Very angry indeed. He returned to hiding behind the dragon's neck.

The Welsh Red landed on the shelf of rock, next to the manacles it should have been wearing.

“Where have you been, Dragon?” Crispan screamed. His voice was alarmingly raised, somewhere on the border between hysteria and madness. “Elfram has sent out his army. I need you to smash it, burn it, whatever you can do to it before the Sharm and Ipecean armies arrive. And who set you loose?”

Something in Crispan's tone, both towards the King Elfram and the dragon, made John's blood boil. Rage seethed through the boy's every vein, springing him into action. Quick as lightening, he sprang down to the floor, ignoring the dragon's express thoughts to hold back. Crispan looked at John in complete surprise.

“What are you doing here, boy?”

The contempt in his voice as Crispan spat the word 'boy' snapped the last straw of fear that was restraining him. John marched towards Crispan.

“What am I doing here?” he thrust back at Crispan. “Defending King Elfram's lands. Laying waste to both the Sharms and the Ipaceans. Smashing them, burning them, as you would say.” John watched as Crispan's face soured, then began burning with a fire of red anger. “Yes, that's right. Your ...” John searched his brain for the word. “Your little coup is over. Your quest for power is dead.”

Crispan's left arm shot out, grabbing hold of John and spinning him round. Before he knew it, Crispan had him held fast and a cold, metal blade was pressed to John’s throat.

“Now,” Crispan whispered in his ear, “Feel what it is like to lose everything.”

John felt the blade move effortlessly across his throat, then found he couldn't breathe. John put his hand to his throat, as the air escaped from his lungs. It felt strangely open. As he removed his hand, he saw it was red with his own blood. The lack of air made him light-headed. His legs had no strength. The left knee gave way and John smashed painfully to the floor.

From his prone position, John, though he lay motionless, could see and hear well enough.

“Why did you attack the Sharm?” Crispan was screaming. And the Ipaceans? Who gave you the order?”

“He did,” replied the dragon calmly, “the Dragon Master.”

“He's not the Dragon Master!” bawled Crispan. “He's the Dragon Master's boy. I'm your master. You belong to me!”

John was barely alive, but he could see the look in the dragon's eyes. It was a look that would kill.

“I belong to no-one!”

John felt the heat of the dragon one last time, before he slipped silently into another world.

Final chapter: https://vocal.media/fiction/the-dragon-master-s-son-16