Satisfied with the high protein breakfast, the dragon swung its weight around to slow its momentum, and it landed on its feet with a graceful slide in the dirt. When the dust settled, the dragon’s head was held high in triumph, and it stuck its tongue out to lick the edges of its mouth and to gulp down the last of the feathers before speaking its mind.
“Well, giantess, we meet again. I have had quite a night out, dining on roasted warden and rare warrior,” the beast chided Beni as he stood proudly before her. “What have you to say now that I have had feathers, fur, and friends for breakfast?” The dragon was in such a good mood from his misguided belief that he had recaptured the stolen tooth (if he had swallowed it, he would see it again the next day), and the thought actually crossed his mind to let Beni, the captain, and the freed prisoners go. What he did not know was that Beni had noticed Crush’s acrobatic maneuver to escape, and she could see him quietly crawling down his back to the ground below. Crush needed a diversion to keep the dragon’s mind and attention preoccupied temporarily, and she thought she owed him that for his bravery.
“Boast all you like, beast. You can destroy everything that you see if you wish, but you should know that these people deserve their freedom,” she reasoned with the serpent.
“Oh, indeed they do. As their master and warden at the castle for so many years, you would know their needs. And now you have decided that they should be allowed to go free. I could not agree more, Princess,” the sharp witted creature stabbed at her with his sharp words of criticism. “Besides, the Queenmother will have her way with them when she gets the chance.” Beni watched on as Crush leapt down to the ground and made a break for the mine entrance. The field agent had not separated himself from the dragon for very many yards before the scaly eyes caught a glimpse of his backside and the dragon’s tooth that was cradled in his arms. The dragon roared his displeasure at the deception by Crush, and the scales of his belly turned bright red as the fires of his anger churned inside his bowels. Crush glanced backward for an instant, and he knew what was coming.
“I hope that’s just a fart from indigestion,” he quipped before the searing heat rose from the belly up into the neck of the beast, changing the color of the scales and disproving his optimism. Crush’s adrenaline kicked in, and he crossed the gap at record breaking speed, but it was not quick enough to outrun the dragon’s fire. The beast reared its head back first and then whipped it forward to throw the flames across the empty space between them, and the tongue of fire shot out toward Crush with great accuracy. When Crush chanced a second glance, it was as if he was seeing the world through a green tinted lens, and the dragon disappeared behind the ever-growing flames that seemed to form a curved wall in open space around Beni. He looked above to the giantess Beni, and by the form of her stance with her feet spread out and hands held forward at the flames, he recognized that she was working her magic. The last of the people were filing into the cavern when Crush arrived, and he quickly followed them inside to make his way to the front of the crowd where two more kilted guards were now being held by the frightened and angry mob.
“I’m back,” Crush announced as he broke the circle that surrounded the guards. “Miss me?” he asked, and they had no reply as they realized that their station in life had changed rather significantly. “Sucks to be on the other end, doesn’t it? Tie up their hands and bring them with us,” he ordered the men nearby as he grabbed a torch from the wall. The men obeyed and held the guards at spear point, and Crush then led the people down the tunnel toward the labor camp below.
“What did you do to anger that dragon so?” one of the followers asked Crush.
“Besides pulling his only tooth, you mean,” Crush responded passingly and shrugged his shoulders. “I crapped in his face and gave him the bird.”
**********
Outside of the tunnel, Beni and Captain Colere stood dangerously between the approaching dragon and his quarry. The time for talking had long passed for the dragon, and the beast charged toward the couple in his anger. With wings, arms, and legs widespread, he tackled the green sphere that surrounded the two giants, and the magical orb moved a few feet with the blow. Beni’s strength was waning, and she felt the globe move with the attack. She had no idea just how long she could endure the dragon’s assault. The captain placed a hand on her shoulder to get her attention.
“Princess, let me go out there and see what I can do with the creature,” he suggested between attacks, and sparing any words, she gave him the intense look of her disapproval. Though Colere knew he would not last a minute against the dragon, he could sense that her strength was fading. Sooner or later, as long as the two giants stood between the dragon and Crush, they were going to die. Why not do it with action, he thought to himself.
The dragon had not missed seeing the movement of the sphere with each attack, and he knelt his body down low and spun around with his tail gliding over the surface of the ground. When the tail struck the magical green sphere, it lifted off of the ground and bounced away from the entrance to the tunnel, taking Beni, Simon, and the captain with it rolling down the side of the ridge. With a cleared path, the dragon lunged for the opening of the tunnel with his mouth wide open, and he breathed a terrible stream of fire into the hole in the side of the mountain.
The magical globe tumbled to a stop by the brush at the edge of the forest, and though dizzy from the summersaulting and weakened from the exertion that the magic had taken upon her body, Beni managed to find her footing. Simon peeked his head out from beneath the cover of her hair, and he was captivated by what he saw.
“They are doomed,” Beni whispered, and she cringed with dread as she looked on helplessly at the smoke that ushered from the hole in the mountain.
Chapter 3
*
Caught Between Queens
*
Calvin Smith staggered down the darkened tunnel that led into the mines. He had fared well in sneaking past the guards during their unscheduled but frequent naps, and he was getting very close to the opening in the great chamber. From what he could remember, there was one more bend in the tunnel, and then he would come upon a guard shack carved into the stone wall at the opening to the tunnel of the mine chamber. Calvin had spent many years working in the outdoors, and he loved to feel sunshine the warmth on his skin. When he was younger, he had believed that the work of mining was fit for blind men who could not see the sunshine or for greedy men who only valued increases in their net worth, and that there was nothing below the ground that could possibly match the beauty which existed on the outer surface of his slice of home.
This journey had changed his thoughts in those regards. In his newly opened eyes, the veins of brilliant gold, quartz, and even the glittering coal had proved to hold at least as much beauty in their own right as a proper sunset on the beach; never as warm, grant you, for they were in the buried darkness of the caves. But they were never subject to rain, wind, and the ravages of the changing of the seasons. Precious stones and metals were never affected like the things that survived on the surface. His free hand reached out and touched the shell of the tunnel, and closing his eyes, he admired the coolness, the changes in depth, and the texture of its surface as his fingertips moved across the many elements, compounds, and amorphous arrangements within the tunnel wall.
“How have I missed this experience all my life?” he asked himself, yet knowing the answer was that he had relied on his eyesight for all of his information and had neglected the other lesser senses as a guide in life.
Then a new vibration shook beneath his fingertips, and he opened his eyes, but there was nothing to see. The vibration repeated with the same frequency as running footsteps, and Calvin dragged the shrub-like air supply which Pound had fashioned for him to the corner of the bend with urgency. Someone was coming down the shaft toward the mine; he could feel it, and he needed to get to safety. “That’s a laugh,” he thought. “I’m down here where I shouldn’t b
e, and my chest hurts more and more with every step,” he reflected as he grabbed his ribs and bent over to get more air into his lungs. The deeper he had gone into the mines, the harder it had become to breathe, and his body thirsted for air now more than it ever had before. It was not the botanical breathing device that Pound had created which was the issue, though with only muted light, there would come an end to the plant’s respiration and the supply of oxygen exhaled by the vegetation would eventually cease. No, the problem now was Calvin Smith’s body; he was experiencing the side effects that many years of smoking had taken upon his body, and he sensed, not with his eyes or even his hands, but with his spiritual fingertips, that his life was nearing its close.
As the footsteps drew closer, he leaned his back against the wall at the corner of the bend and stretched his neck upward to face the ceiling. With the herbal mask still attached to his face, a white light appeared in the ceiling, and he saw a figure standing in the midst of the light. It held out a hand to him, and he nervously reached for the revolver that was resting between his hip and the belted waistline of his pants. Nonplussed, the figure shined ever brighter, and the hand that had been extended simply disappeared. Calvin was not ready to go. Not yet. There were some loose ends to tie up, and the light would have to wait a little longer.
Just then, a kilted guard bolted from the inside of the guard shack, cut around the bend in the tunnel, passed by the dying old man as if he were not there, and disappeared around the next corner as he ran higher up into the tunnel toward the sound of the approaching footsteps. The light in the ceiling then dissipated as well, and Calvin knew that he had a little bit longer and a little bit farther to go before he would reach the light. Dropping his head, he stumbled around the bend past the unattended guard shack and into the chamber of the mine.
**********
Crush sprinted down the many bends of the rocky tunnel as fast as he could move. He knew that if the dragon ever made it past Beni, their lives would all be in danger. He grabbed the kilted guards who ran beside him by the arm and yelled out over the deafening sounds of the crowd that followed.
“What protections do you have against a dragon?” he asked as he kept his aggressive pace.
“There are the pipes over’ead to let out steam,” the guard noted and lifted his chin up to indicate the ceiling. His hands were still tied, but he could point with his nose, and Crush looked above to see that indeed there were large diameter holes carved out of the rock and spaced about every thirty feet. “They’re linked together and exhaust to the air outside the mountain. We also ‘ave the doors to keep the beastie’s breath contained,” he replied as he nodded his head forward to indicate a structure ahead. “Just up there.” The discrete outlines of the large doorway became more apparent the closer that Crush got, and when he had passed through the frame in the tunnel, he forced the two guards against the wall, and he motioned for everyone else to keep moving past. When all had passed, Crush yelled back up the tunnel to test for stragglers. After a second yell and a count of three, he heard no other sounds coming from behind, and so he unchained the gigantic doors from the holders on the walls. Then he closed the doors just as a roar issued from the tunnel above.
“I don’t think that’s a straggler returning my call,” Crush joked as he sat down on the floor against the doors and pressed the locking bolts to secure the panels down into the floor. A whoosh of air siphoned through the cracks in the door, and it suddenly became difficult for him to breathe as the heat increased and the oxygen quickly depleted through the cracks in the locked frame. Flames licked through the creases at the top of the doors, and Crush was forced to move away from the metal frame as the doors began to glow a faint red with the expulsion of thermal energy. “I don’t think we’ll be using that door again, fellas,” Crush kidded with the guards, and then he surprisingly untied their hands. “You two have as much life at stake as we now do. I’m letting you free to save your lives, but I expect that you won’t make me regret the gesture.” The men looked at one another and then at the melting door, and they nodded their assent to Crush’s request.
“Very well,” the first one said.
“Do you have a plan?” the other asked. Crush held out the dragon’s tooth and shrugged.
“Somewhat,” he replied as he stared down at the excised molar. “Though, we will have to rely on a little guy hiding down in the mine for what comes next,” he explained and ushered them forward to join the rest of the crowd.
“Prince Argentine? He isn’t small,” the first one commented.
“Pftt!! That name gives me as much heartburn as the dragon’s breath,” Crush said crossly at the mention of the green-skinned tsar’s moniker. He held his tongue before he said anything more about Sean. Even though he had a small army of prisoners at his disposal, the truth was that they were not much of an army, and he was loathe to think of anyone as disposable. “Let’s keep moving,” he added and pushed his way to the front of the crowd to leave the guards behind.
**********
The dragon was enraged to the point of distraction. He had his claws dug into the rock, and Beni looked on as the beast blew fire into the stone until it was molten in his clawed hands. With a handful of red hot slag, the serpent pitched the chunk of glowing rock to the side and dug his way deeper into the mountain. If there was no other way to get his tooth back, he was determined to dig his way inside to get to the mines. A handful at a time, the beast made quick work of the tunnel opening, and Beni knew that Crush only had a short time before the dragon was on him.
**********
Rodrick led the giants back through the forest towards the flames of the castle that rose high into the night sky. He was a faithful servant to Queen Dowager, and he had earned a place among the river scouts by serving the realm. The reality that his military position would become watered down with the attack on the castle made him angry. The fact that his captain was participating in seeing the slaves to freedom made his blood pressure rise even higher. Carefully placing his temper to the side, he made himself of one mind: save Queen Dowager. If she were somewhere beneath the piles of rubble, he and the other faithful men would find her, and she would set things right.
“And we will tell her of everything we have seen tonight,” Rodrick assured himself.
The warriors darted through the forest in the dark with deft precision, leaping over fallen logs and cold, narrow waterways until they arrived at the castle at daybreak. The walls were a smoking ruin where the dragon had gusted fire from his belly into the partitions and then thumped the wood and mortar over with his mighty tail. On the inside of the walls, the castle yard was littered with the destruction of the beast, and half-charred bodies from the previous night’s battle lay everywhere. They scanned the remainder of their home village, and they could not help but feel a mixture of conflicting emotions: remorse for not being nearby to fulfill their duty and defend the castle, sadness for the families of the many warriors who had passed away the previous night, and unbridled hatred for the dragon.
Indignant, Rodrick inhaled deeply through his nose and spit a wad of phlegm on a flickering flame that burned on the ground, smothering the spark where it lay. He quickly spied the area where he believed the Queen’s quarters should be, and he waved the others on to follow him as he trudged over the destruction with purpose. He passed through a gulf in a damaged wall to the castle hold where a steel spiral ladder which had led up to Queen Dowager’s bedroom suite was located. The ladder was now bent and mangled from the heat and the rage of the dragon, and the wooden bedroom suite above had been burned to a crisp. Yet, the solid floor beneath was intact. Rodrick knelt down on one knee at the foot of the ladder, and he swept away the thick layer of ash and coal that had deposited onto the floor. At first, there was nothing but solid tile surrounding the landing. As he made his way around the base of the ladder, he discovered that the metal plate which formed the foundation of the spiral ladder act
ually extended in a rectangular shape along the floor on the backside of the ladder toward the wall. Structurally, this extra length of metal made no improvement to the staircase’s stability, and he suspected there was another reason for the additional plate. Feeling around in the dust, he confirmed his suspicions that the plate was not one solid strip of metal, but was actually hinged. Using a charred strip of wood, he swept away the ash and filth that had amassed onto the extension of the plate, and he uncovered a handle at the far end past the hinge. Whoever had built this structure had created a removable lid which had been hidden behind the base of the steps, and to Rodrick’s surprise, the mad creature had failed to notice it during his tantrum the previous night. Rodrick stood to his feet, bent down and grasped the handle with both hands, and he pulled the reinforced lid open. He covered his eyes from the eruption of dust that lifted into his face, and at first Rodrick could see nothing within the darkness of the room below. As he knelt down and stuck his head closer into the space below, he still could see nothing as his eyes slowly adjusted to the changes in lighting. Two spots of light appeared in the darkness, and the lights seemed to grow closer and closer with each passing second until Rodrick realized what they were. They were eyes, and they were coming toward him. Standing to his feet, he withdrew his sword from his scabbard as the other giants gathered around the opening to the black box that formed in the floor. With a full body suit of armor and a stern appearance of disgust, Queen Dowager stepped out from the darkness beneath the floor into the morning light.
“How did you all fare against the dragon?” she asked with a scowl on her face. None of the ragged group dared to have an answer for her except for Rodrick.
“Quite well, since we were not here, my Queen,” he said as he placed the sword back into his scabbard. “We have been maintaining your borders along the river as ordered, and we rushed to get here on our captain’s and your sister’s orders.” Queen Dowager’s eyebrows peaked at the mention of her sister.
Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 12 Page 4
