Bentwhistle the Dragon Box, Page 2

  Everyone with a minor injury had been discharged from the hospital. Broken bones, concussions, burns and shock had all been dealt with swiftly, much to everybody's relief. Seven seriously ill patients remained, all but given up on by the doctors and nurses. During triage, these seven had been deemed to have no chance and their blood soaked bodies had been moved to a mouldy, shadow-ridden corner of the building. Each of the seven now owed their existence to the dedication and perseverance of one individual... GEORGE! He'd found them lying there, waiting for death's embrace. The doctors and nurses thought him insane for wasting his time on what they knew to be a lost cause, but he didn't give up on them. It wasn't in his nature, something that should have been obvious from his duel with the dragon. Having found them waiting to die, he'd tended to them personally. Remarkably, and much to the medical staff's amazement, one by one their conditions stabilised. It was just another of the miracles that seemed to be coming thick and fast these days.

  Having done all he could at the hospital, George tasked himself with overseeing the rebuilding work, conversing regularly with the planners, politicians and the idiosyncratic engineers. As he moved through the streets from one part of the city to another, people would approach him, men shaking his hand, women kissing him on the cheek, all offering thanks for the seemingly amazing feats he and his colleagues had achieved, much to his ever increasing embarrassment. Everybody in the city remarked what a true and inspiring leader of men he was. If only they knew the truth...

  In the early hours of the morning on the seventh day after the battle with the dragon, in the shadows of a partly rebuilt house on the edge of the square, George and his companions found themselves shivering with cold. Teeth chattering ever so slightly, he managed to ask the question.

  "How long until everything here is complete?"

  "Two full days from now the whole thing will be finished; the city will be as good as new, if not better," explained Hannah, the chief politician.

  "What about the chamber?" whispered George. "Will it be ready on time?"

  "As far as we know preparations are at an advanced stage, and it should be ready when we get there."

  "Have we procured any transport for Troydenn?" George asked, directing the question towards the eclectic group of engineers sitting silently in one darkened corner. From out of the darkness behind them stepped a short, fat, balding man with a great big, thick, grey beard, as wide as it was long,. Although nothing special to look at, this man clearly commanded respect, as well he should, for he was renowned as one of the best engineers that had ever lived. His name was Axus.

  Shoving his way through his fellow workers so that he could address George directly, he did his best to answer the question.

  "We've asked the mayor if we can have two of the massive freight sleighs that they use in winter to transport goods up the main road and through the pass. I don't think there'll be a problem, given the time of year and with everything we've already done for them. We know how to convert the runners on the sleighs to work effectively on grass, mud and road. Our biggest issue is Troydenn's massive frame. Both sleighs will have to be attached so that they run side by side and must be reinforced dramatically. I don't have what I need here to even begin to solve that problem. I've sent word back with a view to them finding the mantras that we need. Hopefully they'll have a hunt around and come up with something useful. If need be they can always head on over to Gee Tee's Mantra Emporium and see if he has anything that fits the bill."

  George let out a long, slow breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding in. It immediately froze in front of him as the portly engineer continued.

  "All seven miles of the route have been checked for any obstacles that may impede the sleighs, and the two miles inside the cave have been reinforced and lit up. Guards have been posted discreetly along the entire length of the journey."

  Letting out a sigh of relief, George addressed everyone.

  "You've all done an amazing job. You should be really proud of yourselves. Be under no illusion though, the toughest part is yet to come. Continue what you've started here, finish the city to the high and exacting standards that you're used to. Give the citizens something that will stand for centuries, and help negate some of the pain that they're feeling. Given what WE'VE put them through, they deserve nothing less. Don't forget: be constantly on the lookout for anything unusual, no matter how insignificant it may seem, because if they get him back, this will all have been for nothing, and the consequences will be felt across the planet."

  What little light there was in the half constructed building showed a solemn looking group of individuals who fully understood the consequences that George had outlined.

  "Let me know if there's anything else I can do," George stated.

  Without a sound, the assembled group slinked off into the night, careful to stick to the shadows, all making their way back to the lodgings that had so kindly been provided for them.

  Axus remained next to the dragon slayer until everyone else had disappeared.

  "Is there any word on how or why he's changed colour?"

  "Not so far," replied Axus. "The Council are working hard to try and find out though. They believe nothing like this has ever been documented, but are having libraries across the globe scoured for the tiniest of clues. That includes Rome, and the king's private library."

  That caught George's attention. The monarch’s own library. As far as he knew, that was off limits to everyone but the king himself. Things must be bad if they'd got that far. But it was time to go. They'd already been out here too long, and George was worried about pushing his luck too much. So with a friendly slap on Axus' shoulder, the two of them slid out into the darkness.

  The following day work continued at a frantic pace, with most of the buildings being finished by early afternoon. Intricate pieces of the totally rebuilt fountain, the square's magnificent centrepiece, were crafted expertly together in the glare of the afternoon sun. Signing off on the engineers taking the two freight sleighs, the mayor then, much to everyone's delight, announced that a feast like no other was to be put on that night, in remembrance of all those who had lost their lives, and as a thank you to their guests for the outstanding work they'd done. A muted buzz of excitement zipped its way around the city as preparations got underway.

  Not long before sunset, a visitor arrived on a horse, asking for Axus. Guided through the hectic groundwork of the feast, the visitor dismounted on seeing the rotund engineer and handed him three large cylindrical objects from his saddlebags. Moving in to surround their leader, the engineers gathered, keen to see what had arrived. Axus opened the first cylinder, pulling a large sheet of parchment from it and inspecting the mantra for any irregularities as he did so. Hushed whispers ran around the rest of the group. From this point on, the engineers looked more like a gaggle of naughty school girls than the brains of the outfit. They remained huddled together, whispering, sighing and even giggling uncontrollably at times. This continued for the rest of the afternoon and evening, only pausing momentarily when they went to obtain food and drink from the superbly catered feast.

  The celebration itself was a great success. Given the tragic circumstances of a week past, the variety and quality of not only the food, but the drink as well, was staggering and a credit to all of the craftsmen and women of the city and its surroundings. As the singing and dancing began against the backdrop of crackling fires and the tantalising aroma of every different kind of roasted meat, bands from all around filled the warm spring night air with an array of diverse sounds. Flutes, lutes, violins, guitars and tambourines played with unheard of enthusiasm. It was magnificent, and a night that no one there would ever forget. Towards the end of the evening, almost midnight in fact, the mayor gave an emotionally charged speech, naming those who had lost their lives in the attack, praising George's courage in confronting the dragon (much to the crowd's delight) and thanking the new arrivals for their part in restoring the city to its former glory. Before fini
shing he announced to everyone that George's entourage would be taking the dragon corpse with them when they left the next day.

  As the sun rose the next morning, the city seemed to be a hive of activity, with the smell of freshly baked bread wafted down the streets and alleys as people cleaned up from the night before, some looking more the worse for wear than others. Stalls, marquees, and the bandstand in the centre of the square were all being dismantled. Some picked up litter, others were washing shop fronts, or the very streets themselves. It was good to see people take pride in the city that they lived in. George, a little fuzzy headed from too many glasses of beer, weaved his way through the streets, eager to see how much progress the engineers had made. Arriving in the main square he was confronted by a group beaming with pride, but looking very much under the weather after the previous night's merrymaking. Axus appeared off to one side of the group.

  "Blimey, that wine was potent last night. My mouth feels like a badger’s bottom."

  Some of the newer additions to the group of engineers wondered briefly how he knew what a badger’s bottom felt like.

  Bedraggled, and with chunks of meat and bread littering his unkempt beard, he continued.

  "Still, could have been worse I suppose. Poor old Hopkins spent most of last night whispering sweet nothings to the two sacks of flour over there, even coming over at one point to tell us that he thought one of them might even be marriage material. Haaaa haaaa! I don't think he's going to live that down for quite some time."

  Hopkins, having already thrown up at least half a dozen times this morning, skulked even further back into the shadows than he already was.

  "Anyhow," continued Axus, throwing a small chunk of cooked meat from his beard into the air, before gobbling it down like a well trained sea lion at a zoo, "onto more important matters. It's done! One of the mantras sent out did the trick nicely. Both sleighs are as one, and look as though they've always been that way. We've been up all night testing them to make sure they're okay. Only a matter of getting him on there now."

  A tiny flicker of movement from across the square caught George's eye as he listened intently to what Axus was saying. From between two shops on the far side of the square, a small boy appeared and started skulking towards the lonely dragon corpse. George stood riveted to the spot, having forgotten all about what his friend was saying. None of the city folk would go anywhere near the beast's carcass; most refused to even look at it.

  As the boy got closer, he started to pull something from his belt. That was George's cue. As fast as was humanly possible (and maybe even a little faster) George moved to put himself between the boy and the dragon.

  "Can I help you?" he asked curiously.

  Looking more than a little sheepish, suddenly realising that not only had he attracted the attention of George, but everyone else in the square as well, the boy did his best to answer.

  "Well... um, I, er... my name is Sam, Sam Smithers. My dad is Elron Smithers, the city's best known butcher. I um... thought it would be a waste, you know, what with some of the not so well off people in the city not having enough food and all. I thought it would save you the trouble of having to take it away as well."

  "Let me get this straight," exclaimed George dubiously, "you were going to skin it!"

  "To make sausages," added Sam.

  The group of engineers, who had moved closer to back up George if needed, burst into laughter as one. Everyone else looked on in astonishment as Sam's face turned a deep shade of scarlet. George urged the crowd to quieten down.

  "Sam, my young friend, you seem full of noble sentiment, which I admire greatly. But unfortunately there is a much bigger picture, which because of your age, you fail to grasp. Perhaps you'd like to take your knife and try and skin the dragon for me? If you succeed you can keep all the meat you like."

  With the eyes of the entire crowd on him, Sam pulled a bright, shiny knife with a dull leather handle out from his belt and stepped determinedly towards the dragon. With the knife in his right hand, the muscles in both arms bulging and his left hand braced against the dragon's right thigh for purchase, he drew back his arm and, with all his might, thrust the knife towards the dragon's flesh.

  At the first point of contact the knife buckled in on itself, the shock from the impact forcing Sam to drop the crumpled blade onto the cobbles. The clang echoed across the square as the onlookers and Sam all gasped in amazement at what had happened.

  George put a comforting arm around Sam's burly shoulders.

  "Sorry Sam, that was a bit mean of me, but I thought a demonstration would be more effective than anything I could say. One of the reasons we need to take the carcass away, is that it requires special measures to dispose of a dead dragon."

  Sam gawped, open mouthed.

  "I... I... I understand," he stuttered.

  George smiled at the boy, pushing the lie he'd just told far to the back of his mind.

  "But since you seem to have ruined your best knife, you can have mine as a token of how sorry I am that your very worthy idea hasn't come off," said George, slipping a gleaming dagger made from white gold, tiny jewels embedded into the hilt, into the youngster’s outstretched, quivering hands.

  Managing to squeak a "Thank you," Sam rapidly slipped back through the crowd in the direction of his father's shop.

  With the excitement over, everybody went back to their work with a quiet dignity, knowing they had all contributed to a job well done.

  By early afternoon the building work was complete and the city's giant crane perched precariously over the body of the outstretched dragon, like a huge heron waiting to rip into the water to nab an unsuspecting fish. Leather harnesses crisscrossed the dragon's body, meeting in the centre above it to form a gigantic net. Horses that many of George’s companions had arrived on had been tethered together and attached to the front of the double freight sleighs that stood off to one side of the square. Axus was busy co-ordinating the efforts of all of the engineers. Time ticked by slowly as the crane took up the slack in the gigantic net. Creaking and groaning timbers whipped in the wind across the city as the dragon corpse was raised a foot into the air. Collectively, everyone held their breath as they watched from the city's walls, hanging out of windows, perched on balconies, or caught up in the six deep crowds that lined the square. Much like the feast from the previous night, it was something they would never forget. With the dragon suspended in mid-air, the sleighs were guided very slowly into position underneath. Gently, the monstrous beast was lowered onto the makeshift transport, to a resounding round of applause.

  Checking the sleighs to make sure they were secure before lining up behind them, the engineers, politicians and planners created two lines in front, to form a convoy facing the south eastern exit of the city. George shook hands with the mayor and took his place at the head of the procession, leading them towards the exit to a fanfare of trumpeters, high up on the city's walls.

  A small familiar figure broke ranks from the six deep crowd lining the route and sprinted towards George. Those surrounding him stood ready to act, but it wasn't necessary.

  "Sam, my young friend, whatever are you doing?" enquired George as the city watched.

  Slipping off a heavy backpack almost as big as he was, Sam offered it out to the gallant knight.

  "For the journey," panted the youngster, having run all the way from his father's shop.

  George looked at the young man quizzically.

  "My dad's best sausages. You'll need something good to eat."

  The dragon slayer's smile nearly outshone the sun as he accepted the backpack, passing it back over his shoulder to one of the planners, before ruffling Sam's hair playfully and then offering his thanks. For his part, Sam sprinted back to the edge of the crowd where his father duly waited. Excitement over, the journey continued.

  It took an agonisingly long time to reach the gate, but when George finally crossed beneath it, he reflected on all that had happened in such a short space of time. The goo
d folks of the city waved him off believing he'd conjured up some sort of miracle to defeat the murderous dragon. It had been a one-sided fight, that was for sure, but not quite as one-sided as the citizens believed. Truth was far stranger than fiction, and not really ready to be disclosed to the humans that he'd spent so much time with recently. Briefly, he wondered if it would ever be revealed... you see he and his fellow travellers were dragons as well, only they were currently in their mutatio form.

  Being a dragon in human form (mutatio) gave George enormous advantages over normal humans. Superior strength, incredible stamina, off the scale intelligence, amazing agility and cat-like reflexes were just some of the many benefits. Those, along with his enhanced metabolism and a much higher tolerance for pain, made him tougher than old boots, very difficult to wound, and almost impossible to kill. That's not to say the battle of over a week ago was a fair fight. It clearly wasn't. A dragon in its natural solitus form is virtually impossible to kill. A normal human being would have no chance of killing a dragon in its natural state as there is only one spot on its entire body where it is vulnerable, and it would take a perfect strike to actually slay it. Even a blow to injure it would be remote, as generally the area of vulnerability is very small.

  During the battle, George was able to discern exactly where Troydenn's susceptibility was because no matter what form they're in, dragons can always see another dragon's weak spot, as it's known. George very deliberately thrust his sword into that self same weak spot at an angle, knowing that a killing blow would have been avoided, but at the same time inflicting massive amounts of pain, and incapacitating his enemy for some time to come.

  As he pondered all of this, the troop and the giant sleighs ferrying the matt black dragon passed out of the city and into the countryside.