The Scorched King By Richard Heslop
The kingdom was in turmoil. A great dragon lived in the mountains and every night sheep and cattle would vanish from the fields. People sent to watch over the animals fared no better. Not even the streets were safe and not everyone made it home by morning.
Times were hard and the citizens begged their king to take action, but what could he do against a dragon? And this king had learned that it was sometimes best to let his subjects believe what they will. The royal storerooms were well stocked with meat and slaves fetched a good price beyond the kingdoms borders.
The royal advisors did suggest that the king should at least appear to try and solve the ‘problem’ and his daughter, the princess, was getting older and starting to ask questions and look in places that she really shouldn’t. The solution to both these matters came with a simple, single action.
Outrage filled the kingdom when it was announced the princess had been taken. A reward of gold was offered for the dragon to be killed, and of course the princess’ hand in marriage should she still be alive. Hundreds flooded the mountains from all over the kingdom to prove themselves; shepherds, hunters, builders, blacksmiths, people of all trades. Not one of them returned.
Then he came. His armour worn and battered, his face scarred, his movements slow and measured. The king noted the cloak of dragonhide he wore, fastened by huge, monstrous teeth. This was not just a knight, this was a dragonslayer. From the back of his huge horse, it’s once midnight coat faded to grey, he gave the king a single, weary nod and rode out to the mountains. Few expected to ever see him again.
When he reached a cave entrance littered with charred bones and half melted weapons, he called out in an ancient and almost forgotten tongue, ‘Dragon! Come out! I wish to talk with you!’
She was magnificent. Scales of red and silver shone in the sun and her huge, noble head looked down at him from an elegant serpentine neck. ‘Come to kill me? Like the others did?’ A smile played upon her lips.
The knight shook his head. I have come for the princess.’
‘What princess?’ the dragon sneered.
‘I will take no pleasure in killing you, but kill you I will if you do not return her.’
‘Like you took no pleasure in killing my kin that you wear about your shoulders no doubt.’
‘Livestock and peasants are one thing, but taking a princess was foolish’. He drew his sword and advanced upon the dragon.
She grinned. ‘You speak in riddles little man, I have taken nothing, not man nor beast and certainly not royalty.’
The knight stopped. He had studied dragons, learned their language, regretted killing them, come to respect them, and while they could be unpredictable and easily misunderstood, they were not given to lying. ‘You have not been terrorising this land?’
She reared up and beat the sky with her huge wings. ‘I am older than these very mountains, it has been hundreds of years since I have bothered man or he has bothered me. Follow me knight, I believe we shall find our answers.’
Some distance from the cave, too dangerous to be sold into slavery, the princess had been chained to the rocks and left to die. The knight’s sword freed her, and once she had been fed, her thirst quenched and some of her strength returned, they sat together, the princess, the knight and the dragon. And they talked.
The king watched grim faced as his people cheered the knight’s return. Behind him sat the princess, waving and smiling to the crowd. When they entered the throne room and suggested the king and his advisors leave quietly unless the truth be revealed, the king smiled and gloated. Who was more likely to be believed, a tired old knight and a traumatised princess, or the lands sovereign ruler? Hanging their heads, the knight and the princess left the room, quietly closing the door behind them.
A vast shadow passed over the window and from outside the crowd’s cheers of celebration changed to screams of terror. Looking out, the last thing the king beheld before the flesh was seared from his bones was a huge reptilian eye staring back at him.
As it only seemed right, the princess offered her hand in marriage to the knight, who laughed and shook his head. He was too old and too scarred to be her prince, never mind a king. He and the dragon knew their time was passed. All but the last of their kind, they left the princess to rule and heal her kingdom and followed the last traces of legend and magic as they slowly retreated from a swiftly changing land.
Copyright Richard Heslop 2012
http://www.feedbooks.com/userbook/27870/the-scorched-king to download
Times were hard and the citizens begged their king to take action, but what could he do against a dragon? And this king had learned that it was sometimes best to let his subjects believe what they will. The royal storerooms were well stocked with meat and slaves fetched a good price beyond the kingdoms borders.
The royal advisors did suggest that the king should at least appear to try and solve the ‘problem’ and his daughter, the princess, was getting older and starting to ask questions and look in places that she really shouldn’t. The solution to both these matters came with a simple, single action.
Outrage filled the kingdom when it was announced the princess had been taken. A reward of gold was offered for the dragon to be killed, and of course the princess’ hand in marriage should she still be alive. Hundreds flooded the mountains from all over the kingdom to prove themselves; shepherds, hunters, builders, blacksmiths, people of all trades. Not one of them returned.
Then he came. His armour worn and battered, his face scarred, his movements slow and measured. The king noted the cloak of dragonhide he wore, fastened by huge, monstrous teeth. This was not just a knight, this was a dragonslayer. From the back of his huge horse, it’s once midnight coat faded to grey, he gave the king a single, weary nod and rode out to the mountains. Few expected to ever see him again.
When he reached a cave entrance littered with charred bones and half melted weapons, he called out in an ancient and almost forgotten tongue, ‘Dragon! Come out! I wish to talk with you!’
She was magnificent. Scales of red and silver shone in the sun and her huge, noble head looked down at him from an elegant serpentine neck. ‘Come to kill me? Like the others did?’ A smile played upon her lips.
The knight shook his head. I have come for the princess.’
‘What princess?’ the dragon sneered.
‘I will take no pleasure in killing you, but kill you I will if you do not return her.’
‘Like you took no pleasure in killing my kin that you wear about your shoulders no doubt.’
‘Livestock and peasants are one thing, but taking a princess was foolish’. He drew his sword and advanced upon the dragon.
She grinned. ‘You speak in riddles little man, I have taken nothing, not man nor beast and certainly not royalty.’
The knight stopped. He had studied dragons, learned their language, regretted killing them, come to respect them, and while they could be unpredictable and easily misunderstood, they were not given to lying. ‘You have not been terrorising this land?’
She reared up and beat the sky with her huge wings. ‘I am older than these very mountains, it has been hundreds of years since I have bothered man or he has bothered me. Follow me knight, I believe we shall find our answers.’
Some distance from the cave, too dangerous to be sold into slavery, the princess had been chained to the rocks and left to die. The knight’s sword freed her, and once she had been fed, her thirst quenched and some of her strength returned, they sat together, the princess, the knight and the dragon. And they talked.
The king watched grim faced as his people cheered the knight’s return. Behind him sat the princess, waving and smiling to the crowd. When they entered the throne room and suggested the king and his advisors leave quietly unless the truth be revealed, the king smiled and gloated. Who was more likely to be believed, a tired old knight and a traumatised princess, or the lands sovereign ruler? Hanging their heads, the knight and the princess left the room, quietly closing the door behind them.
A vast shadow passed over the window and from outside the crowd’s cheers of celebration changed to screams of terror. Looking out, the last thing the king beheld before the flesh was seared from his bones was a huge reptilian eye staring back at him.
As it only seemed right, the princess offered her hand in marriage to the knight, who laughed and shook his head. He was too old and too scarred to be her prince, never mind a king. He and the dragon knew their time was passed. All but the last of their kind, they left the princess to rule and heal her kingdom and followed the last traces of legend and magic as they slowly retreated from a swiftly changing land.
Copyright Richard Heslop 2012
http://www.feedbooks.com/userbook/27870/the-scorched-king to download