by Walleye
She regarded him intently for a minute before replying. “I can give you good advice that will help you to defeat the curse and I can provide some magic help. For instance I can help you cure yourself of your magically induced anger.”
“What magically induced anger, short stuff?” He retorted. “I feel fine.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come with me. I’ll show you.” She fluttered her way down the hall and when she realized he wasn’t coming, she turned, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him. “Well, do you want my help or not?”
“Oh all right.” He stomped down the hall after her, growling in irritation to himself.
They reached Maryellen’s room quite quickly and Thistledown flew across the bed to hover over the sword. In doing so she passed right past Gwen’s face. Gwen never acknowledged her presence. However Big Boy the troll cat did. He rolled over on his back with his paws in the air and his head cocked so that he could see what was happening.
Gwen did notice the Beast though. “Did you forget something?” She asked as she put her book down.
Thistledown floated right over to the glowing sword. “Just touch it.” She told the Beast.
The Beast growled. “Just touch it. That’s all?”
Gwen looked up and stared at him in perplexity. “Pardon me.” She said with a frown. “Touch what?” She scooted back away from him.
A small hobgoblin being drawn to the action of magic poked its head out of a rat hole to see what was going on. Big Boy rolled over and fluidly came to his paws. And crouched with his tail lashing back and forth.
The Beast replied to Gwen. “The little fairy told me to touch the sword to cure my anger.”
Gwen looked around in puzzlement and saw nothing. “What little fairy? I don’t see anybody here but you, me, and my cat.”
“Can’t she see you?” The Beast asked the fairy.
“Of course not.” Thistledown replied. “Now touch the sword.”
Gwen stared at him in consternation. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You have to have been under a lot of intense stress lately. I’d recommend a cup of ginseng tea and getting to bed early tonight.”
The Beast sighed in frustration. “I’ll leave but I have to touch the sword first.”
Gwen blinked. “Why?”
“It’s supposed to cure me of my grouchiness.” As she continued to stare he continued. “Just humor me, woman.”
She stepped back and waved her hand in the direction of the sword. “Go ahead.”
Just at that very moment Big Boy charged across the floor. The hobgoblin fell backwards into the rat hole. Big Boy stuck his paw into the rat hole and rammed his shoulder into it. He jerked backwards and snatched the hobgoblin from its hiding place.
Before it could even complain he bit down twice and the pest was gone.
The Beast shook his head. What a cat. He stepped around Gwen and placed his hand on the sword. There was a sizzling sound and the magic flared. The Beast jerked back in shock as a wave of magic surged through him. As the wave passed his head cleared and the anger faded away.
The Prince stumbled back towards the bed and Gwen caught his elbow. “Careful.” She warned him. Big Boy scrambled back out of the way of all the big feet and headed out of the room.
“Thank you, Gwen.” The Prince told her. “I apologize for my rudeness to you earlier.”
She smiled back at him. “Thank you. You seem to be feeling a lot better.”
He looked over at the fairy who was smiling at him. He held out his hand and she alighted there. He whispered to her. “We’ve got to talk and right now.”
The fairy nodded. Below them Maryellen sighed.
All three looked down at her. But Maryellen did not open her eyes and her breathing steadied and deepened.
“She’s getting closer to coming awake.” Gwen told them as she readjusted the blankets.
“Let me know as soon as she awakens.” The beast told her. Gwen nodded.
Attack of the Senas
Henry Prescott, the Manor Reeve, who was elected by the peasants of the three villages which made up the kingdom’s farmers and who served with Prince Johnathan’s approval, was out surveying the state of the crops of the three tithing or thirty family holdings which were his responsibility when James the Shorter, who was the son of headman James the Tall for the Eastern Village, came running up waving to get the Reeve’s attention.
“Reeve! Reeve!” The sandy-haired youngster shouted excitedly as he came running down the center of the road.
Henry pulled up his horse which had been loaned to him by Lord Harkins the day after he was elected by the thirty families. He patted the gelding’s shoulder to get it to settle down and leaned down to face the boy. “What is it, James?”
The twelve-year came to a stumbling halt in front of the Reeve and had to gather his breath for a moment before he could speak. “Reeve, my Father sent me. We need help. A fire-breathing dragon is attacking our village.”
Henry knew James’ Father as they had been friends for years and he knew he would never cry wolf. “Can you make it to castle, James? Can you still run that distance? After all it is three miles away.”
James looked up at him earnestly. “Give me a moment to catch my breath, Sir, and I’ll be ready to go. My family needs help immediately,”
Henry pulled his insignia off his sash and tossed it down to him. “Show this badge to the guards at the gate. Be sure to tell Marshal Falk what you just told me. Tell them I’ve gone to get men and women from the Northern Village and West Village to help fight this monster.”
“Yes, Sir.” James replied and then bent down and put his hands on his knees to take in several more deep breaths.
The Reeve whirled his horse around and started riding north at a fast gallop. He hoped that he could get help to the Eastern Village in time before the dragon burned it to the ground.
Stanley the gate keeper was the first to see James stumbling across the bridge. James came to a halt in front of Stanley’s housing and had to catch his breath before he could even get one word out. And that one word sent a bolt of fear ripping into Stanley’s guts. “Dragon!”
Stanley began ringing the emergency bell immediately and kept ringing it until the Marshal arrived.
“What is it?” Shouted Marshal Falk as he put his hand on his sword hilt and he glared at the boy in front of him.
James had caught his breath by now and managed to get out. “A dragon, Sir. It attacked the Eastern Village this morning. I warned the Reeve. He was getting people from the North and West Villages to attack it.”
James held up the insignia for them to see. “He gave me this to show you that I was sent by him.”
The Marshal took in the insignia and the sight of the frightened boy. If a dragon burned the villages and the crops, then everyone would starve, including him and his men.
He turned immediately to the two soldiers who had accompanied him. “Jeffers, run and have the bugler sound the general alarm for the troops to assemble and, Roberts, go get his highness, the Prince, immediately.”
The two soldiers took off running while the Marshall turned to James. “Did you actually see this monster?”
James didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Sir. My Father and I were just heading out to our fields to do some weeding and hoeing when this red beast crashed its way out of the woods. It was longer than my house in its body and it had a very long snake-like neck and a shorter tail both lined with rows of silver spikes.”
“It had a head big enough to swallow a sow and the head was covered in black spikes. When it opened its mouth and roared its teeth looked like daggers. It was terrifying, Sir.”
The Marshall glanced up as he heard the bugler sound assembly. He looked back down and he frowned at James. “How do you know it was a dragon, boy? It could be a wurm.”
“Because it breathed fire, Sir. Wurms don’t do that, do they?” James protested.
“You’re right, but dragons can fly. Did you see
any wings?” The Marshall demanded as the castle behind him began to boil with activity as the soldiers answered the bugle call.
“No, Sir.” James replied. “I didn’t see any wings.”
“What do we have here, Marshal?” Prince Johnathan demanded as he came striding out of the castle with his red cloak flapping behind him.
The boy’s mouth fell open and the he looked down at his feet, not wanting to offend the lord of the manor. He had never seen his lord before when he was human and to see him in his form as a beast was unnerving.
Johnathan deigned not to notice this reaction. Thanks to the little fairy he would no longer respond with scathing comments for obviously the boy had never seen him in his present form.
The Marshal turned to his lord. “The boy here brings a report from Henry the Reeve that a beast which looks like a wurm but breathes fire has attacked his village, the Eastern Village. Henry told him to tell us that he has gone to recruit people from the North and West Villages to fight it. Milord, we need to get there quickly.”
“Right, Marshal.” Johnathan replied. “We’re going to need the help of the two knights who are guesting here. Their armor should give them some protection from the flames and an armored horse carrying a knight with his spear can bowl over any Wurm as it will be like it was being hit by a battering ram. I’ll speak to them immediately.”
He continued. “Marshal, take most of the soldiers to the Eastern Village and start harassing the monster. Drive it away from the village if you can. The two knights and I will follow and take it down.” Johnathan ordered. “See that cook gives this boy a warm meal.”
“Sire.” James protested. “I want to go with the soldiers. It’s my home.”
Johnathan nodded. “Your attitude does you credit, but I’m assuming you’ve had no formal military training?”
James hung his head. “No, Sir.”
“Then stay here. You’re exhausted.” He smiled as he thought of something. “I charge you with helping to protect the castle while we’re gone.”
James snapped to attention. “I’ll be glad to, Sir.”
“Good. Now go and get something to eat.” He grinned as he watched the boy hurry away. Then he went to get his cousin Elliot and Sir Rathbone and to get geared up to fight a fire-breathing wurm.
‘Fight a fire-breathing wurm?’ Thistledown the fairy thought in horror. ‘This has to be the work of the curser Morgin. But whom shall I protect? Prince Johnathan? Or my friend? Either way, I could guess wrong and one of them could die.’
With a sigh she decided to stay and protect her helpless friend. The Prince could protect himself without her help.
“Are you coming with us?” The Prince asked the fairy as he buckled his chest armor on.
“No. I need to watch Maryellen.” She replied.
“Do you think this wurm has been sent by the Sidhe?” He asked as he fastened his greaves.
“Have you ever had wurms attack before?” She asked in her turn.
He shook his head. “No.”
Thistledown floated up so she could see his face. “I think you have your answer. But remember this. Even if the creature was created by magic it can be slain by weapons made and wielded by men and women.”
His face suddenly lit up. “I could borrow her magic sword. Its use could give me the edge I need.”
Thistledown shook her head. “The sword only works right now if it is in close proximity to Maryellen. It would only be as effective as the non-magic sword that you’re buckling on.”
“I was afraid of that.” He said with a growl.
“Is it true?” They turned and saw Belle standing there. “That you’re going out to fight a fire-breathing wurm?”
“Part of my job, being a prince.” He replied. He was touched by the concern he saw in her eyes.
“And that’s exactly who you are.” Belle told him. “You may have the outer semblance of a beast but on the inside you’re a prince. Those women who couldn’t see that are the ones that were blind.”
He paused and gazed into her eyes for a long moment. Finally he shook his head. “For some reason I remember another saying the same thing to me but they were not the same words that she used.”
“Oh, who?” Belle asked.
He frowned. “I think it was the one who lies unconscious upstairs.”
Belle sighed. “Then your heart is already spoken for.”
He looked at her sadly. “But she is not the one. So my heart is still my own.”
Belle gave him a puzzled look. “The one? “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“She is not the one who can break the curse because she cannot….” He trailed off and said with a look of disgust. “The curse won’t let me say what she cannot do.”
Belle sighed. “And as you told me once before she herself is cursed and her curse is entangled with your own.” She looked intently at him. Have you given any thought to the idea that if you cure her curse you may be finding the answer to the cure for your own?”
“I haven’t…” He started to reply when his cousin Elliot who was fully armored entered the room carrying her helmet against her side.
She gave him a salute. “Sorry to interrupt, Cousin, but Sir Rathbone and I are ready to ride after the soldiers.”
Johnathan picked up his own helmet. “I’m ready.” He turned back to Belle. “You have raised some interesting ideas. We will continue this conversation when I return.” He was very impressed with the intelligence of this woman.
“Then take my good wishes with you.” Belle said as she stepped forward. She stretched upwards and planted a kiss on his cheek. With that she picked up her skirts and left the room, but as she reached the door she turned and gave him a very warm look before she turned and left.
The Prince touched his cheek and looked after her with wonder. Belle obviously had feelings for him too.
Cousin Elliot said softly. “Remember, Cousin, that your Mother wants her to be a princess.”
The Prince shook himself. “What my Mother wants is becoming less of a factor in my decisions of late.”
“And to me too.” Elliot replied as they headed out the door. “As far as I am concerned you can keep this old rat trap of a castle.”
“It’s not all that bad.” Johnathan complained.
“Want to bet.” Came the sarcastic reply.
As they approached the door to the Queen’s quarters where Maryellen slept the Prince paused and looked in the door. “Is she awake yet?” He asked.
Ella who was now on duty looked up. “She’s stirred twice while I’ve been here. I think she might even be awake by the time you return.”
“Thank you.” Johnathan replied. “Thank you very much.” When he got back he realized he might have to choose between the two women and if he did that, then Belle would win as she could break the curse and Maryellen could not.
Un-noticed Thistledown floated away from the Prince and over to where Maryellen lay. Her magic-born instincts were all aflame. This is where she had to be. There was no longer any doubt in her mind.
Once out in the courtyard Johnathan gave Cousin Elliot a hand in mounting up. It was a common fallacy that people thought that armored knights needed several men or a block and tackle to mount up. They did it by shear brute strength which they built up by lifting weights.
In this case the Prince had even less trouble and mounted his draft horse quite nimbly. He looked over at the three squires, one of whom had a horse hitched to a cart with their extra gear and several lances. “Follow us.” He commanded.
They quickly rode down the trail following the path that the Marshal and his troop of soldiers had taken.
The Marshal and his men could tell they were going in the right direction from the billowing black column of smoke pouring into the sky ahead of them. As they got closer they met villagers and farmers fleeing from the destruction.
Most of them were mothers with children and grandmothers and a very few grandfathers. The Marshal k
new why they were seeing no young men or young women. They were either up ahead fighting the wurm or dead. Even a grandfather or a young woman could draw a bow and fight to protect their families.
The troop came over a hill and they saw before them the wurm just as James had described it. It looked like a huge reptile and it moved like one with its four feet. The red wurm whose head on its long neck was as tall as the tallest two story house was in the center of the town square shooting beams of yellow fire at men and young women who were hiding behind debris or the corners of buildings and firing arrows at it. The eastern half of the town was in full flame and buildings were already collapsing into the square.
The wurm threw back its head and roared its defiance. As it did more arrows slammed into its neck and body. They bounced off the thick hide and the wurm thrust its head downward in the direction of its tormentors, opened its mouth, and let out a blast of yellow flame that set a tipped over wagon bed on fire and sent four archers, three women and one man, running for their lives.
While the wurm was distracted an older man and woman came running around a corner of a building. The woman was carry a crossbow and the old man a sheath of arrows. The old woman went down to kneel with the crossbow resting on a pile of debris.
The old man dropped an arrow into the arrow channel and the woman sighted and fired. The steel bolt didn’t bounce like the arrows had. Instead it sank deep into the wurm’s neck.
The wurm went crazy as it threw its head from side to side and screamed. But while it was doing that the old woman and man were already scrambling for cover. By the time it had turned its angry glare in their direction they were out of sight. Blood dribbled from the hole in its chest and four other bloody trails attested to the effectiveness of this technique.
‘Crossbows can hurt it.’ Marshal Falk thought. ‘That’s good to know.’
He turned to his second in command and ordered. “Send the five crossbow men around to the western half of the village and have them start firing as soon as they get in position. But for God’s sakes tell them to disperse so they don’t form one big target.”
