Futurism logo

The Dragon Master's Son 4 & 5

John plans how to escape.

By Niall James BradleyPublished 3 years ago Updated 2 years ago 8 min read
1
John was alone in his cell.

Chapter 4

It was almost exactly as John had imagined a cell. Three sides were plain stone wall and one side was a grill of steel. He had also imagined a small, grated window, but no window was there. John was alone in his cell, in the dark. The guard had taken the solitary torch away with him. Not that John needed it. An owl charm meant he could see perfectly well, even in this poor light.

But John was getting bored. There seemed to be no other prisoners and staying here, locked up in a cell, wasn't helping him find his father. He needed to get out, look around, and discover as much as he could about what was going on.

John moved over to the half moon loop of metal protruding from the floor. It was obviously where the more dangerous prisoners, or those most likely to escape, were chained to the floor. He grabbed hold of the loop and pictured the key the guard had used. He pictured its size and shape, the intricate whorls of the handle. John could feel the metal of the loop writhe in his hand as it metamorphosed into the key. When the metal ceased moving, he looked down at the shiny, new key in his hand. It wasn't quite right. He closed his eyes again, recalling the darkening of age and blossoms of rust. John looked down at his hand again. This time he held an exact replica of the guard’s key, which he slid into the lock. He turned it silently clockwise, opening the gate and crept without a sound from the cell. Relocking the gate, he placed the key back through the grill and inside the cell. Should anyone find him missing, they would at least know his method of escape. They would know that some fool had left a spare key in the cell. No-one would suspect the truth.

Covering himself with a concealment charm, John began retracing the journey he had made to the cells with the guard. He took his time, for although no-one could see him, the sound of his footsteps would give him away. At the end of the first corridor, he turned right into a second. This was lit sporadically by torches, which hung in sconces on the wall. John was about to turn into a third passageway, when the dark, powerful voice struck him again.

'Dragon Master!' it rasped. 'Come to me, Dragon Master.' The voice was still commanding, but this time it was kinder and caused John less pain.

The voice didn't seem to be physical. It had no body, no presence. It seemed to appear directly in his head. John couldn't say or shout out his response, as this would have given him away to any guards nearby. So he stood and, with all his might, thought his response.

'Where are you?'

'Below. Far below,' answered the voice.

That didn't make sense. He was near the cells, as deep and dank in the castle as you could go. There was nothing below here. Nothing but...

The dragon stables!

'Are you a dragon?' John thought, then instantly regretted such a rash question.

'Come, Dragon Master,' said the voice, 'come and see.'

Chapter 5

John slumped down on the step. Hunger and exhaustion held him still. He really couldn't go any further on.

Slipping past the two sentries at the top of the stairs had been the easy bit. The stairs were obviously very old. They descended in long, straight sections, not the clockwise spirals of the castle. Each section ended in a square half landing. How many flights of stairs he'd descended, John didn't know. He had considered using a sprinting spell to hasten his decent, but then thought better of it. There was no telling who was down here. Crashing headlong into a group of the King's men would definitely give him away. So he proceeded slowly, concealed from view.

After descending for longer than seemed possible, John had begun to feel faint. Only then did he begin to think about food. Though here, so far below ground, it was difficult to tell, he was sure it must be dusk. He hadn't eaten since breakfasting with his father at dawn. Only then did the lack of food and the full exertions of the day take there toll on his body.

John rested at the step. Though ancient and well worn, it was remarkably clean and free of dust. He lifted his aching feet from the hard, stone floor. But another pain entered his body. The voice, a deep, commanding voice, re-entered his head.

'Why are you resting, Dragon Master?' the voice asked. 'Don't stop now. You are near.'

'I'm sorry, but I can't,' he complained. 'I don't have the energy to continue.'

'Use your powers,' urged the voice, 'Sustain yourself.'

The word 'sustain' triggered a memory in John’s mind. He recalled one of the many spells his mother had taught him. Remembered how she'd told him:

“This spell can be used to keep you going if you have no food. It releases your body's fats and gives you energy.”

John chanted the spell in his head. The first chanting of the spell had no effect. On the second chant, he began to feel a change. By the end of the third chant, he was once more brimming with energy. John sprang back onto his feet and again, silently, descended the stairs.

The dragon stabling was vast. The stairs stopped and a path continued over roughly hewn rock, into the black, echoing expanse. It was a natural cavern in the bedrock below the castle, cut by an ancient river. At the furthest corner of the cavern, a tunnel opened to the outside world. The remnants of the days light illuminated the cavern with a dull, grey glow.

John watched as a multitude of birds and bats flitted between the dark alcoves of the cave roof and the tunnel entrance. A hail of guano fell like pungent rain, beating a rhythm on the dark waters far below. The weak light reflected off the water that collected in a lake at the base of the cavern. John heard the echoing clacking of a winch. In the half light, his eyes caught the shape of a bucket silhouetted against the grey gloom. He watched as it up-ended into the lake and re-emerged full. As it clacked back to the castle above, John made a mental note not to drink the water from the castle’s well.

'Good evening, Dragon Master.'

John turned in the direction the voice seemed to be coming from. Out of the shadows of a cave, stepped the menacing bulk of a Welsh Red. The same Welsh Red John had thwarted in the woods that very morning. He was cowed into silence by the beast's enormous, dominating presence.

“Hello,” John managed in a timid whisper.

'No bowing, no scrapping,' spat the dragon, showing it's disgust, 'You are very unusual for a Dragon Master.' The dragon turned away from John. 'And young'

John finally found his voice. “I'm not the dragon master,” he called after the departing dragon, “I'm the dragon master's son.”

The dragon stopped, turning one penetrating eye on John.

'The old man?' the dragon quizzed, 'With harnesses and kind words?'

“You've seen him? You've seen my father?”

The Welsh Red turned to face John once more. 'Yes. He is working for Crispan, though not through choice. He was gentle, so I let him harness me.' John noticed the saddle on the creatures back. The dragon exhaled a slow, meaty breathe. 'Your father has great knowledge and handles dragons well, but he is no Dragon Master. He has no power. Not like you, Dragon Master.'

John blushed. He was aware of his gifts, his ability with magic, but to be told by this imposing, magical creature that he had power was more than a boy could cope with.

“Thank you.”

'No, thank you, Dragon Master. Yours is the first company I have had, the first creature to translate my thoughts, for many a long year. For the first time in years, I do not feel completely alone. So, thank you, Dragon Master.'

The dragon bowed its head. Instinctively, John reached out and placed his hand on the crown of the beast's head. The glistening scales felt smooth, streamline to the touch; built for speed.

'You have visitors.' murmured the dragon.

John looked around. There was no-one there.

'Not here. They are on their way to your cell. You'd better return there before they find you've gone.'

Butterflies began to fly in John's stomach. Panic began to course through every vein of his body. Realisation almost stole his voice.

“How can I get there before them?” he asked hopelessly.

'Use your power.'

John looked with bewilderment into the calculating, yellow eyes of the dragon.

'You really are very young,' the dragon scoffed. 'I don't normally do this for humans, you know.'

The butterflies were replaced by a new, queasy feeling in John's stomach. It felt like he was being squeezed and stretched between two far off places. Suddenly, he snapped back into himself and fell back, onto the straw covered, stone floor of his cell.

Next chapter: https://vocal.media/fiction/the-dragon-master-s-son-6-and-7

fantasy
1

About the Creator

Niall James Bradley

I am a teacher who lives in the north west of England. I write about many subjects, but mainly I write non-fiction about things that interest me, fiction about what comes into my head and poetry about how I feel.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.