Blueback Flight

1 -Blueback

Vaughn Skagg distracted himself with imagining all the things he could buy with his dragon hunt earnings. A blade with an ice enchantment. No, a fire-enchanted dagger. Perhaps a cloak of gliding. Why, he could even hire a journeyman mage as a business associate and traveling companion. But if he was realistic he needed a steed of his own.

At eighteen summers, a world of opportunity lay spread before him like the spilled contents of a toppled treasure chest. But above all the trinkets and weapons, a steaming hot plate of red mountain goat mutton and a drink of cold South dwarven ale sounded best. But that all hinged on the Blueback being in its cavern lair.

But no need to work himself into a frenzy about what could happen. Thus far, everything was going better than he’d hoped. Why worry about provoking a four-story tall wild animal and getting one’s head burnt to a crisp? He could handle it. That’s what the dragon nip was for. He patted the small satchel hanging from his belt.

Val and his borrowed horse led the prince’s party through the mossy redwoods and toward the Blueback’s lair. He felt sorry for the dragon, really. It was an innocent beast that had never hurt anyone. But Prince Ectar promised a handsome sum to anyone who could lead him to the dragon’s whereabouts. And so Val led the way. He could practically feel his teeth sinking into steaming hot mutton now.

Sunbeams shot through the trees. Birds glided through the air, and a breeze blew about. It smelled of earth and moss and dead leaves. But Val’s focus was drawn to the Lady Isilda, the crown princess of a neighboring kingdom. Lady Isilda was much more beautiful than this day could ever be. But no, he should not dwell on her. Not on her bronze skin or her silvery hair. And definitely not her long elven ears. Ahh. He was doing it again.

Don’t gawk, you fool. He’d have ample opportunity to talk to her. Once he brought the hunting party to the cavern where the Blueback dwelt, the party would, really, no longer have need of him. The lady and he would be the only other ones left outside.

Why had the prince even brought her along? But he knew why. This was all a show for the princess. Prince Ectar was the seventh suitor to court Princess Isilda, and he did not want to lose her to another. Rumor had it that Ectar did not even allow any of his retinue to address or converse with the princess of their own accord. She was a trophy. Of course, the dragon hunt also gave the prince opportunity to exert his dominance over a savage beast. Val tightened his grip on the reins of his horse. Ectar was the true savage.

“Something wrong?” asked the prince’s head guard and closest confidant, Captain Thack.

Val realized his own eyebrows were drawn together tight. “We’re close,” he said. Soon they were at the large opening to the cavern. A foul stench filled the air.

“What’s that horrible smell?” asked Prince Ectar.

“See that pile of rocks?” said Val. “Those aren’t rocks.”

The prince gagged, and several of his guards chuckled at his expense.

Look at him, thought Val. That pretty boy—elf ancestry, no doubt, like most royalty—sitting there atop his pegasus steed in his unblemished, oversized armor. Wearing a sword never drawn from its scabbard. “Sorry, Your Highness,” said Val. “I know royalty don’t have bowel movements, but for us lowly creatures, it’s identified by its foul odor.”

Stifled snickering burst from the guards.

“Enough,” growled Captain Thack.

“No, no,” said the prince. “All in good jest. At least we know it’s here.”

Val produced a small drawstring bag of herbs and handed it to the prince. “This is the dragon nip.”

“You’re sure it will work?” asked Prince Ectar.

“They’re addicted to the stuff. And seeing that this is my own special concoction, it’ll work better than whatever you could find growing wild in a forest,” he said. Then, holding his nose, he added, “I’m going to move upwind if you don’t mind, Your Highness.”

“Certainly,” said the prince. “Thack, pay the man.”

On command, Thack produced a jingling bag of coins. Val resisted the urge to take it then and there and held up his hand in protest. “Oh, I couldn’t now. You haven’t even begun the hunt.”

“Fair enough,” said the prince. Thack put the coin back into his cloak, and Val made an effort not to wince.

The prince dismounted his pegasus, and his men got off their horses, drew swords and spears, and donned shields. They steered the cage on the cart to the front of the cave and opened the cell door, laying a hunk of raw meat inside, setting the trap. Looking to Isilda he said, “I’ll earn the title dragon slayer by sunset, and return to you with a magnificent Blueback to behead and mount on my wall.”

She cringed. “What purpose would a severed head serve?” Her skin paled.

“A memorial to my victory, of course.”

She grimaced like she smelled something more foul than the dragon dung outside the cave. “Am I to stay out here then?”

Ectar’s eyebrows furrowed. “A princess assist in a dragon-slaying quest?” He flashed his perfect teeth. “You’re as amusing as you are pretty.”

Isilda’s back stiffened and her eyes narrowed slightly. Before she could retort, Ectar turned to Val. “Are you not joining us?”

Val could barely contain his disdain. Apparently the prince’s overprotection of the princess was placed on hold when opportunities to gallivant arose. Val bit his tongue, restraining what he wanted to say. “I’m a dragon tracker. The slaying of the beast is for your satisfaction.”

The prince shook his head. “Suit yourself. I wouldn’t want to force you or the princess to do something that requires a man’s bravery.” He chuckled at his own snub.

Thack guffawed louder than necessary. “Good one, Sire. Quite the singe, if I do say so.” The men joined in, too late for their laughter to be authentic.

Val shrugged it off, as if the slight meant no offense to him. And for what the prince promised to pay him, he could swallow his pride for the day.

The hunting party lit torches and proceeded into the cave. Soon, they would return with a dragon head to mount on the prince’s wall. Val could practically see the gleaming pile of coins. His lips parted in a toothy grin.

Some called him a ranger. Others thought of him as a hunter. But Val liked to think of himself as a dragon tracker. He had realized this subtle change in words could open up a whole new world of opportunity for him. Anyone could be a hunter. So what if you were a half-elf ranger? You could barely visit a decent tavern without bumping into a brooding half-elf ranger. But not many sold themselves as dragon trackers. And it was this distinction that would put Val ahead of the game and make him a good deal of money. He was still amazed at himself for talking his way into the employ of the Prince Ectar. As long as this job went well, who knew who he’d be working for next? Plus Val could raise his prices a considerable amount.

Val moved his horse next to the lady under the shade of a weeping willow. He hopped down from the horse and bowed low to her with a big grin. “My lady.”

She graced him with a smile. “Thank you for leading us on such a pleasant ride, Sir Skagg. It was quite nice.”

“You’re welcome. Please, call me Val. I wouldn’t ever claim to be a knight.” Where the prince flaunted his vanity, she deserved to be atop a noble steed. Like the pegasus, her unearthly beauty could have only come down from the heavens.

The lady dismounted from her pegasus.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable off the steed?” asked Val. “Suppose the prince and his men—fine warriors though they are—don’t capture the beast and it rushes outside.”

“Then I’ll do what I must when the time comes.”

Val smirked. He liked Isilda. She had fire in her. Up close, her elven features only heightened her beauty. “Does the prince always leave you in danger, or just when he’s brash?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Personally, I would not leave a beautiful maiden to fend for herself in the event the dragon escapes the trap.”

“Perhaps he trusted you are capable.”

“Oh, my competence is without question. I’m a dragon tracker after all. And I’m the best sword wielder in my village.” As soon as he said it he felt like a jester.

She turned away and said, “Draw your sword then, Master Vaughn.”

“What?”

“Let’s see how skilled your village is.”

Val drew his sword reluctantly. “I don’t know, my Lady. Suppose the prince returns and sees—”

“Am I too imposing of an enemy for you? Are you afraid?”

Val looked for some kind of sign that the princess was joking but she looked on apathetically, as if she did these sorts of things often. Isilda produced a short blade from her saddle and swung at Val, who blocked it just in time with his own blade. The clang of metal echoed in the forest.

“Hey,” he exclaimed, caught off guard.

She pushed him back with swing after swing. He could tell she was not really trying to hurt him, but neither did she hold back. While Val was the best in his village, he did not know how his village compared to the outside world. His true confidence lay behind the bow and arrow. Soon she had him pinned against the willow tree, the blade at his neck. He smiled warily.

“You were going easy on me,” she said scowling.

I was actually doing my best not to get cut, he thought. But he said, “I’m glad Ectar didn’t witness that.”

She backed off. “I wish he had. Perhaps he’d see past the benefits of marrying me and stop trying to impress me with false bravado.”

“Agreed. He didn’t have to drag you all the way out here. That regal brute could have regaled you with pompous tales of his greatness back at the castle.”

Her face grew stern again. “You should not speak of my suitor that way.”

Val stood still, eyes wide. Up until this point, he thought Prince Ectar held no special place in the princess’s heart, like the previous six suitors. “Do you love him?” he asked, regretting the words instantly. But to his surprise, she answered.

“My elder sister is learning to love her new king. These last few years were hard for her, but over time I will do the same.”

He squinted at her. “Royalty,” he sighed. “I’ll never understand. I guess there is a cost to all that power.”

“How so?”

“While you’re free to do almost anything, you’re also a slave to the people, both highborn and low. You are expected to marry a noble with not much say in who he is.”

“Oh, I’ve had plenty say thus far.”

Val pursed his lips. “True. But still, there aren’t many to go around. Me? I can marry anyone I want.”

“And have you?”

“Well…” Val coughed and cleared his throat. He waved a hand, forcing a smile. “I haven’t found the right woman yet.”

“Of course not,” she giggled.

Val would have retorted, but a screech pierced the air. The horses and pegasus whinnied, pawing the ground. Isilda gasped, pointing above the tree line. Val caught a glimpse of sapphire wings in the air. “The dragon’s not in the cave,” he said, dry-mouthed.

2 -Not in the Cave

Wind rushed through the trees snapping weak branches as the Blueback dragon swooped down snatching at Isilda with its talons. Isilda rushed to her mount, kicked her pegasus into action and took off, flying low through the trees, seeking to escape the dragon.

Val’s heart drummed in his chest. Terrible images of fangs and fire assaulting Isilda filled his mind. Running to his frightened horse, Val mounted it in one smooth movement and began his pursuit. He might die, but he would do everything in his power to ensure the princess did not.

They snaked through the trees, and overhead, the Blueback roared in frustration while Isilda and her pegasus eluded its jaws. After several minutes of pursuit the dragon clipped one of the pegasus’s wings, severing feathered muscle from bone. The heavenly pair spun out of control into a downward spiral and crashed in a large meadow clearing. Snarling, the Blueback dove after its double catch.

The crash flung Isilda from her steed, but she rolled away, managing to retain her sword.

The pegasus squealed in terror as the Blueback tore into its ivory flesh. Val reached the clearing, pulled the bow from his back, and nocked an arrow. He kept his eyes on the Blueback as he raised it, taking aim as he drove his horse toward the beast, hooves pounding hard against the dirt.

The princess raised her sword, screaming. The dragon turned and gave a blazing roar, seeking to threaten Isilda with a small burst of fire, but then turned back to its feathered feast. She ran perpendicular to the beast with the speed and grace only an elf could manage and swung, slicing into one of its leathery wings. It let out a shrill screech in pain and drew in its wing, flames erupting past its forked tongue.

Isilda circled, dipping underneath the dragon’s swinging tail. But this time, the dragon anticipated her. As she neared, it batted her like a massive cat playing with a mouse. Isilda instinctively raised her arm to shield her body and was knocked to the ground. She let out a cry as the dragon pinned her with one paw, her face a mix of terror and determination.

Isilda was doomed, so he must make this shot count. Val envisioned a bead on the dragon’s muzzle, took aim, and let the arrow fly. The arrow flew true and pierced the dragon, going through one nostril and lodging right through the other side. The dragon recoiled, bringing its front talons to its nose, clawing at the lodged arrow. Val shot arrow after arrow at the Blueback, many of them ricocheting off of its scaly hide, but some of them finding a place to sink into flesh. It screeched, then abruptly took flight with the remains of the pegasus in its claws.

Val leaped from his horse and Isilda’s side. Her winged steed whined in the throes of death. Its neck had twisted under the weight of the Blueback.

He looked back the way the dragon had flown off, then back to the pegasus. As he stepped towards her body, he brought his sword down in one swift motion. She breathed no more. A deep sting hurt his chest, like a thorn in his heart. But he kept his composure. “Had to put her out of her misery,” he said.

Though teary-eyed, Isilda was okay, save for the way she cradled her wrist.

“Let me see it,” said Val. She pulled back her long draped sleeve to bare her wrist. Val gingerly touched her arm. Such soft, bronze skin. Why, she’s barely a summer older than me. He gently turned her hand this way and that. She did not cry out, but he could read the lines of anguish on her face.

“Looks like it is sprained, but not too bad, my lady. Let me help you into the saddle.”

He helped her stand, letting her lean on him as they neared his horse. Then before she could object, he held her by the waist and hoisted her up onto his horse. She glared at him but said, “Thank you.”

His heart was still beating fast, but no longer from the dragon attack. He realized that he was staring at her dumbly. He’d never seen an actual elf up close before.

“Idiot,” he mumbled to himself. “That thing could come back any minute for a second helping.”

“I can’t just leave you here alone without a horse,” she said.

“Well, what are we to do then?”

“You can ride with me, obviously,” she said. “There is room on the horse. I’ll ride in front of you.”

Val’s mouth hung open. He wanted to object, to say something. But, he also did not have any objection at all. All he managed to get out was, “Right then.”

They rearranged themselves so he rode behind, reaching around the princess to steer the horse. “This way you don’t fall.” He reassured himself that was the only reason.

It was admittedly not comfortable sharing the saddle, but at the same time, he was aware of how very close they were. He clenched the horse with his knees tightly and kicked the horse into a slow trot.

Val became aware of how good her hair smelled. He hoped that his smell did not offend her. He had no access to such luxuries as oils for the skin or hair. He ran his hand across his face. It had never bothered him before, but now that he thought about it, his hair needed a trim, and his stubble was getting scruffy. Who was he fooling though? She did not give a dung heap what he looked like. Still, he would have liked to know when he woke that morning that he would be saving a beautiful lady, nay, a princess, and riding so close on horseback. All because the dragon was not in its cave.

Val envisioned Isilda standing toe to toe with the dragon and his own arrows piercing it until it flew off. He straightened in the saddle throwing his shoulders back. “We just fought a dragon.”

“By ourselves,” Isilda added. “Thank you. You scared it off. I would be worse off if not for your expert shooting.”

“You did well yourself. Holding your ground alone against a Blueback.”

“I suppose Ectar did not get much of a hunt,” she said.

“Unless there were more dragons in the cavern. But I’ve only seen tracks for one adult up here.” His chest burned with dread. The prince set out to hunt a dragon, but in all likelihood, his betrothed got more action today than all his men combined. He would not like that at all. Val couldn’t help but smirk at the prince’s misfortune. But it was followed by a sinking premonition. A man like the prince would only redirect the misfortune on Val. No gold meant no hot mutton, no enchanted ice blade, no opportunities. It meant returning to his village, to his father.

Lost in anxious thought, Val forgot to dismount and lead the horse on foot before they neared the cavern entrance as he intended. Not a moment after this intention crossed his mind, Prince Ectar and Captain Thack came from around a patch of thick bushes.

The prince looked to Val then to his betrothed. “What is going on here? Isilda, where’s your pegasus?”

3 -Payment

Isilda explained what happened. The whole time, Captain Thack stared down at Val, not saying a word and never blinking. Val’s mouth was terribly dry. He barely heard her words until she finished with, “This man saved my life. You should be grateful, my prince.”

The prince looked to Val, not smiling. “Yes, you’re quite right. Thank you, Mr. Skagg. Forgive me, for a moment it appeared—but never mind that. Tonight we shall hold a feast, in your honor, for your deeds of valor, and celebrate that my betrothed still breathes.”

Val bowed low. “No need, Your Majesty. I was but doing my duty to protect the princess, as would be the responsibility of any man in my position.”

The prince said nothing but continued to look at Val who, in turn, changed the subject. “How fared your quest? There were other Bluebacks to slay, I presume.”

“Pfhaa,” said the captain, finally breaking his silence. “You call those pathetic baby lizards dragons? Still suckling on their mum’s teat, no doubt. You led us on a wild unicorn chase.”

Val only then realized why Captain Thack’s face annoyed him. He had a square jaw that begged for a beating. Val bit his lip. Things were not going good for him today. “I’m sorry, Prince,” he said. “I did not know they were not full-grown. I only knew the one adult female dwelt in the cave for sure.”

The prince gazed off in the direction Val and Isilda returned from. “Had I been there it would fell under my blade” said Ectar. “Nevertheless, we did slay a few of the younglings.” His cold emerald eyes held no emotion at all. “And we captured three as well.” The prince snapped his fingers at Thack, who threw Val a bag of coins.

Val caught the bag, but keeping them didn’t feel right. “Sire, I can’t take these knowing you were not able to fulfill your quest.”

“Keep them,” said the prince smiling, more teeth than eyes. “It’s the least I can do for saving Princess Isilda.” Then he turned his steed. “Come, let us return to the castle. We have a feast to prepare for.”

As they all turned to go, Ectar said, “Captain. A word, please.” The captain turned his horse, and Val knew he should join the rest of the group and leave them to talk in private. He looked back to see them talking under the shadow of a weeping willow. The prince whispered into Thack’s ear, all the while his ringed fingers brushed the hilt of his sword, as if itching to draw it. Thack stared straight at Val and nodded, smirking for the first time that day.

A small breeze blew over Val. Goosebumps arose along the back of his neck. Whatever Ectar and Thack spoke of, he didn’t like it one bit. But with a borrowed horse amidst a hunting party prepared to chase down a dragon, he could not slip away without drawing attention to himself. And he didn’t need royal horse thief added to his list of skills.

“Thank you again,” said Isilda.

Val cleared his throat. “Don’t mention it,” he said, forcing a smile, but his stomach churned. He’d have his feast, then gather his things, take his earnings, and leave in the dead of night.

***

Captain Thack led the party back out of the woods and toward the castle. The hunt began early in the morning, but now the red sun sank into the horizon beyond the clouds.

Val lagged farther and farther behind the hunting party until he fell in line with the three caged baby Bluebacks. They growled and sputtered tongues of fire, but the metal cage held fast. Soon, they gave up and settled in for the ride. The cage was designed to hold a full-grown adult Blueback, so it fit three adolescents with room to spare.

To rid the countryside of a full-grown, fanged menace was one thing, but taking captive baby dragons to breed them for the mere sport of future hunts was something else entirely, and it didn’t sit right with Val. He pitied the poor creatures. Sadness washed over him. His whole life up until this point he’d felt like a wild animal straining against the cage of hardship, dreaming he could escape to opportunity abroad, flying higher than his lowly upbringing. Would he ever break free? The earnings today were a step in the right direction.

They entered the town, and people gathered to see the spectacle. Val knew the prince brought back the young-wings just so he could display something for his subjects, rather than return empty-handed.

In the town square a gray-bearded, one-eyed beanstalk of a man struggled for a better view of the royal hunting party, but the stocks restricted his head and arms from much movement. “D-d-dragons!” he blurted, giving Val a gap-toothed, gummy grin. Val noted the empty stocks next to the man, and he focused his eyes straight ahead.

They climbed the winding path up the hill, ascending to Prince Ectar’s castle. Val craned his neck, his eyes tracing the tall towers that stood like spears piercing the sky. This morning he’d thought the castle looked lovely, but now black shadows enclosed the stone structure. Val shook his head. All of this extravagance at Ectar’s disposal. It sickened him considering all of the material possessions this one man held, while he scrambled after any glimmer of hope to survive. He patted his bag, the jingle pleasing his ears. “At least there’s a feast to enjoy, ” he muttered to himself.

When they arrived at the gate, the prince bid Val to approach him. Val dismounted, and his borrowed horse was returned to its stall for him. He noted which direction the caged Bluebacks went as they were carted out of the courtyard and moved into some other holding area.

“Captain Thack, can you please show Mr. Skagg here to the guest quarters?” Then he turned to his betrothed. “My lady, why don’t you retire and prepare yourself for tonight’s feast.”

Captain Thack approached Val with a smile and said, “Right this way, Mr. Skagg. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

Val caught the eye of Isilda, but the prince noticed it and grabbed her arm, hurrying off before anything could be said. Thack led Val away from the main hall and into a dark hallway. They walked down several flights of winding steps. Val felt like it was getting darker with each step and the air harder to breathe.

“Almost there,” said Thack reassuringly.

“Torch, maybe?” asked Val, but all Thack did was snort. “Sure is a long walk for any of your poor guests to the main hall. I’d hate to be a guest here all of the time.”

“You’re right. You will hate being here all of the time.” Then Thack turned abruptly to strike Val in the face, but Val was ready for it. He dodged the first blow, but not the second or the third, or the tenth. The last thing he remembered as he lay on the cold stone floor was Thack tearing the bag of gold coins from him. Val tried to object, but his eyelids wouldn’t stay open.

4 -The Guest Room

Val awoke in a dark jail cell, stripped of his weapons and dignity. He was not bound, but he found it hard to sit up. His head hurt terribly, and the air tasted musty and old. It smelled like piss and mildew. From the gnawing hunger in his stomach, he gathered he’d been in the cell all night.

After a time he sat up and looked around. There was a bed full of rotted hay and nothing else. The opening in the door was but a small square secured with bars. He went to the bars and pushed his head through as far as he could, but he couldn’t see much. It seemed he was in the last cell in a long hall.

Val shook the bars with white knuckles and snarled. He’d spent the better half of the last two years trying to not be his father, only to end up in a dungeon cell like his father deserved. He remembered his worthless old man begging the debt collectors to show mercy. Val would never stoop low enough to beg. That was why he needed the job in the first place, so he could escape his father’s mistakes, get out from under his shadow. He’d be lucky now if he didn’t rot for the remainder of his days. But he had to break free. Val couldn’t face the cold starvation of loneliness. And he must get his gold. It was the only thing keeping him from his father, and drunken beatings.

He felt the door for a handle or knob, but of course, there was none. Then he ran his fingers all along the grains of the wooden door, looking for a hole or crack of any kind, but found nothing. They had put the hinges on the outside of the door otherwise he could remove them and be free.

He moved from the door to the walls. The room had been carved out of rock, and then the rock had been smoothed somewhat. He found many holes, but those led nowhere and were, at best, big enough for his fingers to fit through, and he hated to lose a finger to a starving spiderpossum.

Climbing atop his bed, he tried to feel along the ceiling, but it was just out of reach. He tried standing his bed on its side to climb it and better reach the ceiling, but it broke as soon as he reached the top, and he fell hard.

He sighed and began searching the floor, which smelled of urine and human waste and who knew what else. Still, he ran his fingers over the grime, hoping to find something. When he found nothing, he groaned, then gnashed his teeth.

Then he stood, braced himself, and charged the door. He hit it hard. It didn’t even budge. He went back to hitting it several more times until his shoulder hurt—at which point, he started ramming it with his other shoulder.

“Hey,” a gruff voice called out. Val heard footsteps coming down the hall. The face of a guard, framed by a helmet, peered through the barred window into his cell. “What are you doing in there? Think you can escape by smashing your body into this door? You can’t. It’s too sturdy. And I’m here. Don’t make me come in there and beat you silly, boy.”

“I wish you would.”

“Pah!” said the guard, sounding very much like he was considering it.

“Actually,” said Val, “it’s just my luck that you’re not a woman. Were you a lovely lady, I would no doubt win you over with my charms and dashing good looks. But alas, you are a man.”

“Ha,” bellowed the guard.

“You’re not so inclined, are you?”

The guard made a face then spat on the ground.

“Ah well,” said Val. “It was just a jest. But worth a try.”

The guard chuckled. “Well, keep it down. I’ll not have you making all this ruckus trying to break free when there’s no use in it.”

“Fair enough.”

The guard turned to go.

“I did nothing to deserve this, you know.”

The guard stopped.

“What did they tell you I was in here for?”

The guard turned to look at him again. “Didn’t say. Doesn’t matter. Not my job to care. Just to stand guard.”

Val ran his hands over the rusted bars of the window. “All I did was save the Lady Isilda from becoming a dragon’s dinner. And for that, I was beaten and cast down here.” He paused in thought. “Did they tell you how long I was to be locked up?”

“Didn’t say,” said the guard.

Val nodded. “Until I’ve learned my lesson, then. Or rotted?”

“Probably the latter,” agreed the guard.

“This is the thanks I get for saving his betrothed. I wonder what they told her happened to me? Earlier, they told her they were preparing a feast in honor of my bravery.”

Val caught sight of movement behind the guard and then there was a loud banging of metal hitting metal followed by the guard crumpling to the ground.

“They told me you’d fallen ill, but the feast took place despite your absence.” Isilda stepped into view. “Don’t look so shocked, Mr. Skagg.”

Val closed his mouth and quickly regained his composure. “How long have you been in here?”

“I heard you make a pass at the guard if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Val shrugged, tried to smirk, but his eyes winced. “I’m trying anything to break out.”

“Nothing seems to be working.”

“How did you know I was down here?”

“When my betrothed mentioned you had fallen ill, I knew it was a lie. His conscience would not allow him to dispose of you, but his pride would not let you go free, so you had to be down here.”

“Won’t he figure out you helped set me free?”

“I’m good at sneaking. Besides, how many men have you known to admit they were bested by a woman?”

Val looked thoughtful. “Good point. And thanks.”

Isilda turned quickly from his gaze and lifted the key off of the guard. The door opened, and Val was free. “Of course,” she said. “You saved my life. The least I could do is set you free.”

Val looked into her eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity. It warmed his heart. He grabbed Isilda by the wrist, guiding her body close to his. Closing his eyes, he kissed her. A sharp pain stung his face. “Ouch,” he cried out.

Isilda raised her hand again. “What are you doing?” she asked him. “That’s my sprained wrist.”

His face turned red, but not because of the slap. “Oh, I thought…”

“Now’s not the time for that.”

Val smiled. “So you’re saying there is a time for that?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Val stepped over the guard. “Sorry about your wrist.” He moved down the hall, finding the exit. “What did you do to the guard?”

“Knocked him over the head with the hilt of your sword.” She handed it to him.

“Nice. The remainder of the guards?”

“I convinced them they were needed elsewhere.” She batted her eyes.

He entered a small room with shelving and cubby holes. In several of them were his cloak, satchels, bow, quiver, and arrows, but no bag of gold. He slammed his fist on the shelving. Taking a deep breath he gathered himself. “Would you be so kind as to direct me out of here in the fastest way possible that will attract the least amount of attention?”

“Certainly,” she said.

She led him through several other passageways until Val recognized they were ascending the same spiral staircase that he had found himself being led down the day before.

“I’ll bring you along the outskirts of the courtyard. If I can get you to the stables, you can get a horse and be on your way.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” said Val as Isilda pulled open the door leading outside to the courtyard. “But I’d like to alter it slightly.”

5 -A Jealous Wrath

Val followed Isilda to the stables. About fifty steeds stood in their stalls, their coats shining in the early morning light, and not a hair out of place.

“They treat their horses better than their heroes,” said Val.

Isilda found a stable boy and ordered him to outfit a mare that very moment. The kid was, in fact, a black-haired faun, his top half-boy, his bottom half-goat. “A little too close for comfort, having him work with the livestock,” mumbled Val under his breath.

He nodded to Isilda then carried on to where she indicated the baby Bluebacks were held. He wished he had a few coins to tip the boy and keep him quiet, but he’d be lucky to make it out of there alive, gold or no.

A few minutes later, Val stood in front of a large cage whose walls and ceiling were made of stone. Nothing flammable was within reach of the iron bars of the cage. The bars ran vertical and horizontal so that he could look at the Bluebacks through squares a little smaller than his head. The three dragons cocked their heads at the sight of Val. He smiled until the familiar stench of dragon droppings filled his nose. Looking down, he gave a sigh of relief. He’d almost stepped in a clump left just outside the bars.

From his belt, he opened his satchel and pulled out a pinch of dragon nip. The Bluebacks flocked to the edge of the cage. Their nostrils flared and they squawked, threatening to set off an alert. “Easy, easy,” he coaxed.

A swift backhand caught him in the side of his head. He sank to the floor, tried to get back up, but the ground spun, and he could not catch his breath.

“Didn’t take enough of a beating last time, eh? I knew something was up when the dungeon guards reported in to me, dismissed from their posts.”

That thick voice could only belong to one big oaf. Captain Thack.

Val spat the blood out of his mouth. “Real courageous, sneaking up on me.”

“You’ve almost ruined everything. I slave to please the prince. Devoutly serving his father all these years only for the king to fall ill. Now forced to bootlick that brat. I’ll hang if you escape. I’m going to enjoy killing you slowly.”

His vision still blurred, Val got to his feet, fumbling for his blade, but he found a chink in Thack’s stoic demeanor. “So you’ve had to grovel your way to the top like a cowed sod? Pitiful.”

His sword already drawn, the captain gritted his teeth and stabbed. As his opponent lunged forward, Val leaned back and let Thack’s blade and arm pass through the square space between the bars. Before he could recoil, Val struck Thack’s elbow, hearing it crack with a satisfying pop.

Captain Thack cried out and stumbled to one knee. Vaulting off of Thack’s thigh, Val delivered a much-deserved knee to Thack’s jaw. The captain didn’t even make a noise as he slumped to the ground, face-first in dragon dung. Val pumped his fist with a yip.

He patted Thack’s pockets and found a small ring of keys and—what was that? He heard a familiar jingle. “My gold!” he hissed, clutching the bag to his chest.

He located the right key and had the lock open faster than a chastity belt. He swung open the cage and set the dragons free, dropping dragon nip, pinches at a time to lead them out through the open stable door.

Screeching at the saffron morning sky, they flapped their scaled wings and leaped into the air, rising high above the castle spires. Val watched the Bluebacks take flight, and smiled in spite of the headache-inducing knot on his head. Perhaps someday he’d rise above it all, too. He stumbled back to the princess and his escape horse. When he got back to the stall, Isilda, the mare, and the stable boy were nowhere to be found.

Footsteps and a pair of hooves reached Val’s ears. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A pair of stable doors burst open, Prince Ectar and the stable boy-faun leading a squad of guards appeared, weapons drawn and leveled at Val. The boy raised a stubby finger. “That’s the man.”

Val grumbled. “You warned him! Why—you little rat, er, goat!”

The men formed a circle giving Ectar a ring with which to confront Val, cutting off his escape route. The prince raised his sword. “How did you escape?”

Isilda on horseback charged into the ring, forcing the guards to break formation. “I set him free.”

The prince stammered, “I did not expect this from you. Not at all. You really have fallen for this filthy peasant, haven’t you?”

Isilda shot back, “He saved my life. I owe him, as do you.”

“He must die for his lechery. Men!”

“I didn’t touch your betrothed,” objected Val. “But I did best your man Thack and get my gold back.” He held up the bag of coins. “Wait, I take that back. I did steal a kiss from Isilda, it’s true. Guilty as charged.”

Ectar’s face contorted, his eyes bulged, skin flushed purple with silent fury. His sword blurred as he whirled it lightning quick. Instead of unsheathing his, Val bolted and mounted the horse behind Isilda who kicked the steed into a gallop straight at the guards who scattered to avoid being trampled to death.

“Fight me, you dog,” roared the prince, chasing after Val.

Val guided the horse through the courtyard and to the large gate leading out of the castle grounds. The guards at the gate looked at him curiously. Then above the galloping hooves of his own horse, he heard someone yelling behind him. He quickly glanced over his shoulder and saw the sky-borne prince pursuing him on his winged stallion and a squad of guards pursuing on foot and horseback. “Close the gates. Close them!” the prince screamed. But by the time they heard the orders, Val and Isilda were already through.

They winded down the trail heading towards the town below the castle. Isilda kept the horse at a steady pace on the straightaways, but when the trail turned back on itself, she had to slow to a near stop to make the turn.

Apparently, the mare was not as agile a horse as Ectar’s pegasus, for he was gaining on them. Isilda cut her own path off the trail, expertly weaving her way between thick trees, ground littered with layers of leaves, holes, and underbrush. The nimble pegasus soared right atop them, mirroring their every move. Val worried about Ectar’s sword, but knew the prince would not attack while the princess rode so close. They broke back onto the trail just in time to exit the forest into the town.

As they approached the town square, the wind from the pegasus battered Val’s hair, it was so close. With a roar Ectar leapt from his flying steed, tackling the dragon tracker to the ground. They rolled into a knotted mess, both gasping from the fall. The prince recovered first, his sword singing as it was drawn.

Isilda circled the horse back around, but Ectar stood between her and Val. “Let him be,” she commanded.

Ectar snarled, closing the gap between he and Val. Val produced his own sword, and together they danced. Both seeking the high ground advantage, they fought their way onto the raised platform, three stocks providing obstacles to put between one another. The one-eyed old man occupying the middle stock had probably never seen half as much action in his life.

They fought long enough for the guard squad to catch up, but the prince held them at bay with a command. “Back, men! Skagg is mine!”

Val grinned. “You know, Isilda is much better at swordplay than you.”

Ectar nearly sliced Val, but only managed to cut through his satchel, spilling much of his dragon nip all over the platform.

As Val parried and tried to make his own attacks, he quickly realized there was no way he would be walking away from this sword fight today. He purposefully put his back to one of the empty stocks. As the prince swung at him, he vaulted over the side of the wooden frame. The prince’s sword caught in the top of the stock, and as he tried to pull his sword free, Val removed the pin holding the stock shut. The force of the prince pulling suddenly made him fall back as the stock opened on its hinge.

Val used this opportunity to taunt him. “Falling on your arse, my prince. It’s a place you belong really. Mostly because you are one.” He twirled his sword in one hand, the other hand on his hip, every bit the cocky fighter.

The prince growled, taking the bait. He leaped up and tried to cut Val in two over the top of the stocks. Val stepped back, causing the prince’s swing to hit nothing but air. His momentum carried him into the stocks. At that moment, Val kicked the stock closed and threw the pin in place. The prince screamed his throat hoarse, full of rage and spitting like a snake, all the while, Val just chuckled.

The guards, seeing their prince bested and in danger, closed in, but Val held the sword just over the prince’s neck. “Ah-ah-ah!” He waved a finger. The guards halted, unsure how to proceed. “Call your men off, Ectar.”

The prince pursed his lips in defiance. Val pressed the blade in until it drew blood.

The prince caved. “Back off, you idiots!”

A crowd of townsfolk gathered behind the guard squad, clamoring as they tried to understand what was taking place.

“Oh, prince,” Val said, “All I did was save your dear betrothed, but you are so insecure that you could not even stoop to acknowledge my good deed.”

The prince glared at him, and if looks could kill, his would have seen Val chopped to bits. “You have done me a great injustice,” said Val in a low voice. “You have left me with no dignity, so now I will remove yours.”

6 -Dragon Nip Flight

The prince trembled with rage in the stock but whispered through clenched teeth, “I’ll give you anything you want. Name it.”

“What I want, you don’t own. She’s not yours. So I’d have to ask her, wouldn’t I?” said Val. The prince closed his eyes in frustration, a tear trickled down his cheek.

The people parted and the princess emerged from their midst, stepping onto the platform. Val walked around the stocks to meet her, careful to keep his sword still pointed at the prince.

“Now’s your chance. Flee,” she said.

His lips twitched. “Come with me,” he whispered.

“What?”

He picked up her hand. “You can’t wed him after this. What will you do? Court the next prince, and the next? There’s only so many princes to turn down. I don’t think you want that. I can’t promise you a castle, or even a roof over your head, but I can promise you adventure and a good time.”

Her eyes darted between Val, Ectar in the stocks, and the castle.

“Do you want your sister’s life? Or your own?” Val waved to Ectar’s backside. “Come on. This over me?”

“Even if I go with you, there is no way we can outrun these guards, let alone get past them. You didn’t think this through.”

“That’s why I need you.”

Her eyes gazed into the sky behind him.

Val caught sight of three sapphire shapes growing closer as they flew straight for the platform. The baby Bluebacks descended the platform to consume the irresistible dragon nip, drawing a gasp from the onlookers. Being slightly larger than horses, they crowded the space, becoming a natural barrier between Val and the guards.

Val waved his arms. “Get back, everyone! You don’t want to go up in flames!”

The people and the guards retreated away from the platform.

Stepping with determined ease, Val moved toward the closest dragon with his palms up. “Easy girl,” he coaxed. The dragonling squawked in recognition of Val, nuzzling against his shoulder. “Now’s our chance. Are you with me?”

Isilda’s chest rose as she took a deep breath. “Yes,” she nodded.

Val could barely contain his smile. “Good. Do as I do.” Scooping a handful of nip, he let a Blueback eat it from his palm.

The guards sensing the danger die down approached the platform, swords at the ready. Val knew it was now or never.

“Hold on tight,” said Val, hoisting Isilda onto her dragon. It bucked at first and sputtered flames, stopping the guards in their tracks.

“Don’t let them get away!” yelled Ectar.

Taking a quick opportunity, Val twisted his blade to the flat side, brought it back, and swung it with all his might. When it connected with the prince’s bottom, a loud smack echoed through the town square. Ectar shrieked, spitting in rage.

The sight of it was so outrageous that the man in the stocks next to the prince let out a howl of laughter. The prince screamed obscenities at Val who roared with laughter, tears streaming down his face. Then he turned, and with the foolish bravado of a man with no options left, he mounted a confused Blueback.

“Your head is yours today,” yelled Val. “But I’m afraid that the shame of being publicly disciplined in your own town square will never quite heal. Thanks for the gold. Good day to you, Sire.”

Then he urged his Blueback into flight. They took to the skies, and he steered them over the castle and toward the redwoods. Val’s laughter echoed throughout the town below as the guards and the townsfolk looked on in amazement.

All of the stress melted away as they soared higher and higher. He yelped as the wind blew through his hair, smiling at Isilda. She never looked more beautiful than when she soared through the heavens with Val.

-END-