Dragon's Flight

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Dragon's Flight Page 15

by S. R. Langley


  Soon the field before them had been completely cleared of all Humdrums. The Green Witch then gave a final flourish of her ornate, green wand, commanding the roots to return underground and go back to the Wood behind them, where they belonged.

  Within moments Roger could hardly believe that such a spectacle, as he’d just witnessed had happened. All he could see now was a few twirling twigs and leaves, falling to the rut-marked ground, where once a small army had so foolishly attempted to do battle with the Green Witch.

  There was an eerie hush in the late still dawn as Roger surveyed the scene. Jericho gave a growl. Roger got the idea that he was somewhat peeved at having had no real chance himself to charge into battle and rip and rend the enemy with his mighty Sabre-tooth talons and tusks.

  “There, there, my fine feline friend, I fear that in the future your brute strength and sharp claws will indeed be needed!” The Green Witch spoke gently to him, once again placating and patting him on the side of his neck.

  Roger now expected that they would quickly return into the Green-Witch Wood and there re-join their companions at the Observer Tree. But then he saw Jericho’s ears flicker and his whiskers twitch. The big Cat lifted his head and pointed his nose up towards the eastern horizon.

  Then Roger heard what the Sabre-tooth was hearing. The Green Witch could hear it too. There was a distant, low and humming drone, of some thing or things, slowly coming towards them from the brightening, eastern skies.

  Roger put his hand up to shield his eyes and squinted into the bright daylight where the sun had just recently risen. Ripples of gold spread across the horizon and the sun blinded his vision. The sun was now high enough to blur and render invisible whatever it was that was approaching.

  He couldn’t see it, but he could definitely hear it. Then the Green Witch pointed upward into the sky and cried out, “Look! There they are!”

  Roger could just make out three, tiny, gnat-like objects, still very distant, but getting closer every second. It was three airplanes. Three prop-driven, fixed-wing aircraft. The kind Humdrums used for crop spraying on the vast agricultural plains of the Kantish Weald or East Inglian Reaches.

  “What the Galloping Gobstoppers of Galileo are they doing here?” Roger cried out.

  “I believe they have come to poison us!” the Green Witch answered grimly. “We must race back to the Observer Tree immediately. I cannot battle these filthy, infernal machines from this position. We must warn the others and protect them as best we can from whatever pernicious poisons these Humdrums have come to spray upon us.”

  With that she spurred Jericho around and they galloped into the green gloom of the Green-Witch Wood. Roger quickly peered behind him. The three planes were getting closer, but he saw that two of them had now peeled away from the arrow-head formation they’d had, and one was now heading west and the other south. The third though was obviously still heading straight for them.

  “There’s just one now, but it’s still coming straight for us,” he squeaked to the back of the Green Witch’s head, as he clung on to her tightly, with the rushing wind of speed whipping wildly about his ears.

  “I know,” muttered the Green Witch. “Two of them are here to kill off the Black Heath, once and for all, and the third is to kill us! Now hold on, we must outrun that plane!”

  “Oh, my Potty Pythagoras!” Roger exclaimed. “Just how the Bothersome Bacon are we supposed to survive a poison airplane attack?”

  The Green Witch said nothing. She didn’t want to alarm Roger, but she was wondering the exact same thing herself!

  CHAPTER 15:

  THE OBSERVER TREE

  The surrounding trees were now obscuring Roger’s view of the plane, but he could definitely hear it. The distant drone had become a distinct roar of nearing engine.

  But now, looking ahead, Roger could see they were rapidly approaching the Observer Tree. Roger could instinctively tell that this must be the tree as it was huge and rose high above the canopy of the surrounding wood. As they were now loping uphill, Roger surmised that part of its height was due to its elevation on the hill they were climbing. But even with the hill taken into account, the Observer Tree was a massive and mighty specimen.

  “Me thinksh we should helpsh out here, Wodger, don’t yous? We should put ups shum blue dragon fire, an’ at leasht haves a shield over ush!” Regor urgently telepathed.

  “Can you both do that?” the Green Witch enquired, before Roger could answer him. “Any chance you can cover the Observer Tree too?”

  “Yes, I think so!” he answered her, then switching to telepathy mode, asked Regor, “Alright, Regor, do you think you can put a blue-fire shield over the whole Tree with me? I’ll do what I can to help, but we’ll have to make it the biggest we’ve ever attempted. Are you up to it?”

  “Yesh, OK let’s go for its!” Regor piped to them both.

  “Better be quick then,” cried the Green Witch, “that plane’s right over us and is dropping its poison on us now!”

  Roger didn’t waste a moment longer. He could see the plume of grey dust descending on them. He mentally linked, mind to mind with Regor, and together they threw up a wide, quivering umbrella of blue-flame above their heads. He concentrated for his life, and for that of his friends. Together, the unborn baby Dragon and the logical, rich kid, concentrated and made the blue-fire shield rapidly spread ever higher and wider.

  Jericho now skidded to a halt as they arrived at the perimeter of the Observer Tree. They couldn’t travel on foot any further as the tree was surrounded by huge, coiling tangles of thorn bushes. This being a protective skirt magically put there by the Green Witch to ward off any unwanted predators … and visitors. The Green Witch definitely liked her privacy.

  The canopy of blue-flame above them was now sparkling and being continually bombarded with the poisonous particles of the Humdrum’s DDT dust. The plane soared on above them, trailing its payload as a grey ribbon of deadly dust behind it. Roger could see that the cloud of poison would soon envelop the Observer Tree and then engulf them all where they stood.

  “OK, Regor, I know this sort of thing tires you out, and we’ve never tried anything this big before but we’ve got to get our shield over the whole tree, right now, or we’re done for!”

  “Yesh, agreedy indeedy!” Regor grunted mentally. “We’s can do thish, Wodger!”

  Together, they pushed at their shimmering saucer of blue flame and it rapidly became a huge globe of blue flame, completely encasing the whole of the Observer Tree. The thick dust fell and pattered, hissing on its sparkling surface. The whole globe of it felt like a huge weight, ramming itself down on Roger’s head, but he wouldn’t give in. They just had to hold it in place and then hopefully give the Green Witch time to do something more permanent.

  The Observer Tree and the company of the Dragon’s Egg were safe for the moment, but the trees all around them weren’t so lucky. Roger gasped in horror and disgust as he saw several ugly, brown blotches forming on the once, healthy green heads of several nearby trees.

  The Green Witch and Roger had dismounted and had found Mary and the Hircumen huddled together nearby, further in under the canopy of the huge tree. Nimp was lying on the ground, still unconscious from the car crash at the edge of the Black Heath. Mary was looking worried and doing what she could to make him comfortable.

  She looked up to speak to Roger but could see at once that he was concentrating very hard on something important, so remained silent. But then she noticed the familiar flaming shield of blue dragon flame above her, and at once understood what was happening. But then suddenly, she noticed something else too: the plane was returning. She could hear it turning and getting closer!

  She called out a warning to the Green Witch, “Oh, quick, your Ladyship. We must do something, I can hear the plane coming back. It must have more poison to spray on us and I don’t think poor Roger and Regor can carry on much longer!”

  “Yes, you’re right, and I don’t like what it’s doing to my t
rees at all!” the Green Witch replied, with a steely, grim look, and sparks ominously flashing in her green eyes. With that, she waved her wand and the tangle of brambles parted and she strode up to the tree’s trunk and then rapidly ascended, gliding up its gnarled old bark as if there were hidden steps there that curved up and around its trunk, taking her deep into the mysteries of its heady heights.

  Meanwhile Roger had fallen to his knees. He was starting to run out of steam! Sweat was beading on his brow and his face was screwed up with concentration. But to Mary it looked like he was in agony, struck with some terrible pain he could hardly bear. She wasn’t far from the truth either. And the longer and harder Roger concentrated, the more painful it was.

  “Oh, do hurry, Mistress!” she cried up to the Green Witch. She couldn’t see the Witch, but she could see that the blue-flame shield, spread all around her, was weakening and wavering now. It’s huge dome, spread right over the Observer Tree, was slowly dimpling and buckling.

  “It’s wobbling about just like a giant blue blancmange,” she thought.

  The plane was getting nearer, and now there were several rips and tears forming in the great umbrella of the force field surrounding them. Mary realized that she had to do something; she just couldn’t stand by and do nothing; after all she was supposed to be a Witch too, wasn’t she?

  She grabbed hold of her Gran’s handbag and yanked it open. For some reason she got the picture of umbrellas in her head ‒ lots and lots of different-colored umbrellas. She desperately clung on to those pictures, keeping them as bright and as vivid in her mind as possible. “At least they’ll help keep the poison dust off of us,” she thought. “But why can’t they be magical umbrellas as well? Ones that kill off any poisons that fall onto them. That’s just what we need!”

  She then reached into the handbag and pulled out a large red umbrella and then another blue one and another green one and so on. She went through all the colors of the rainbow and ensured that she imagined each one was poison-proof. She kept doing this until all the Hircumen and herself were protected with their very own magical umbrellas.

  She did this at great speed and then saw that Roger had fallen onto his side and was rolling on the ground groaning. The giant bubble of protective blue flame was falling apart!

  Then the plane roared directly overhead. The poison was about to be poured down on them and only her silly, magical umbrellas stood between them all, and a horrible, grisly death. She prayed to all the Gods of the Erf, past, present and future, that she’d done enough to save them.

  She ran to Roger’s side and covered him with her own umbrella, holding him close to her as she peered out, awaiting the deadly fall of toxic dust. But then, without warning, the plane’s engine stopped. It was right above them, she was sure of it, but it wasn’t flying any more. And then, suddenly, the mystery was solved.

  A gigantic, coiling tree-branch came crashing down from the higher reaches of the Observer Tree. It was like an enormous leafy, green tentacle and within its massive coils was the airplane. The branch had lashed out, darting high into the sky, and caught it in a sudden whip-like strike.

  The unsuspecting plane and its pilot had no chance. The Green Witch had climbed to her Seat of Power, deep in the heart of the Tree and from there had performed her powerful Green Magic.

  She now reappeared, descending from the trunk of the tree just as she had ascended it. She coolly stepped to the ground and approached Mary. Above her, the great coils of tree-branch hovered and swayed, still holding the broken plane in its grip, just like a Boa Constrictor around its prey.

  The Green Witch stood over Mary who sat holding Roger under her red umbrella. He was semi-conscious now. Mary looked up at her not knowing what she should say or do.

  “Well done, Little Witch!” the Green Witch smiled at her. “Soon we shall talk and then we will both learn of many things!”

  The Green Witch then raised her wand and nonchalantly flicked it over her shoulder, behind her. The hovering tree-branch immediately quivered and began to uncoil. Soon the crumpled plane was deposited on the ground and the branch, now observably shrinking, returned upwards to its original position near to the top of the Observer Tree.

  Mary could see that the Pilot was by some miracle alive and unharmed, at least as far as anything serious was concerned. He did look very shaken up though. He’d had no idea of what he was in for when he’d set out on this mission for the Under Lundun Council that morning. Usually he’d just been assigned boring crop-dusting duties, not this sort of thing at all.

  No one had told him about shields of blue-fire or magical trees and deadly witches. He thought all that sort of thing was just boogey stories for kids. These woods were just supposed to be populated by wild animals and mad people, weren’t they?

  The Green Witch towered over him as he sat bewildered next to the wreckage of his plane. Then she leaned over him and whispered something in his ear. Mary could see he looked startled but then stood up and straightening out his clothes, gave a little bow and smile to the Green Witch, and then walked off, towards the Black Heath and the Humdrum’s Western Camp.

  “And do keep close to my wood for a mile or so, before you turn south to your camp,” she called out to him, “you don’t want to be poisoned by your own DDT dust, now do you?”

  The Pilot gave her a nod and a bemused smile, and just said, “Thank you, Ma’am,” and left.

  “Not a bad sort really!” Mary heard the Green Witch mutter to herself. “Just badly taught is all, I’d say. Makes you wonder what’s got into these Humdrums the last hundred years or so!”

  Mary was quite impressed at the Green Witch’s self-control and her obvious unwillingness to kill any living creature at all, even a Humdrum who could have killed hundreds of her own creatures, not to mention having harmed her own personal wood, damaged by his poisonous dust.

  However, now there were other matters to attend to, and so their attentions turned to poor Roger. He still lay stricken on the grass and badly needed caring for, as did the courageous Night Imp, as well as several of the valiant Hircumen troupe.

  Without further ado, the Green Witch waved her wand once again, but this time directly at a lower branch of her Observer Tree. Immediately, the head of a large whiskered and tuft-eared creature appeared from out of a cluster of leaves. The creature then came out fully onto the branch and showed himself to be a rather portly squirrel.

  He then quickly scampered down the trunk of the tree and hurried to attend to the Green Witch.

  “This is Scrat, my Personal Assistant,” she told Mary, introducing the literally, ‘bushy tailed and bright-eyed,’ creature. “He and his over-large family will assist us.” She smiled at Scrat and continued, “He’s actually very intelligent and can speak several animal languages, including common Humdrum. I’m sure you two will get on wonderfully.”

  Mary definitely got the idea that the Green Witch was making a small joke at the large squirrel’s expense, but she could also tell that the witch was actually very fond of her fat, furry assistant.

  She gave Scrat a smile and a nod of greeting and said, “Very pleased to meet you, Master Scrat.”

  Master Scrat gave a little bow and replied, “And very pleased to meet you too, Mistress Mary. My family and I will do our best to make you all as comfortable as possible.”

  The Green Witch gave Master Scrat his instructions and he hurried off, his bushy tail waving high in the air, happy his Mistress was home and eager to carry out her wishes.

  “Right, my dear, while Master Scrat attends to sorting out all these Hircumen, we need to look after our walking wounded. Or at least get them walking again, as soon as possible.” The Green Witch sighed, pointing at Roger. “And we should check how your talented, unborn, baby Dragon is as well, shouldn’t we? He had quite a struggle on his own at the end there, didn’t he?”

  Mary realized that the last remnants of the blue-flame shield had flickered on for a few minutes, even after Roger had collapsed. Reg
or must have stubbornly kept to his task, all alone, and had probably drained his energies to the last dregs. She tentatively telepathed to him but didn’t get any response. The baby Dragon, as expected, was once again fast asleep.

  “You will need to stay with me for a few days at least;” the Green Witch continued. “You all need to recuperate, and you will need to be at your very best if you are going to succeed at your quest.”

  “You know, erm … I mean, you know about our quest then?” Mary asked her haltingly.

  “Of course, child! I and the Old Tree King held many a conversation, although we rarely actually met. Our networks of root and branch would often co-mingle though. I liked the old boy a great deal; sorry he had to leave us, somewhat earlier than he’d originally planned, but there you go, needs must, needs must.”

  Mary felt a bit self-conscious and guilty on hearing that, though really, it had nothing to do with her at all. It had been the mindless hatred of the Fire-Worm-Lord, King Morgrave, relentlessly pursuing Mavis, Regor’s mother, that had caused the Dragon Queen’s early demise.

  And Mavis self-combusting underneath the Tree King’s magical tree-form, the Wych Hazel tree, had destroyed him too and then begun the forest fire that had turned the so-called Bad Wood into the blasted wasteland of the Black Heath, that they had just barely escaped from.

  The Green Witch took Mary in tow and called out further orders for Scrat as he hurried by and then spoke to Captain Caprinus, informing him of her wishes. With the help of the squirrels and the healthy Hircumen, between them they rapidly set up a camp at the base of the Observer Tree.

  The Green Witch had first of all waved her wand, and so cleared a large area free of the tangled thorn bushes for them, and ensured two Hircumen guards stood watch at the entranceway to the single path to the camp clearing.

  “It’s unlikely we’ll be attacked here now, but we need to be on our guard for any spies,” she told Captain Caprinus, as he hurried off to carry out her bidding.

 

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