The Princess and the Firedrake

by Jim Stinson

  Lord Wilfred was striding about, swinging a skinny piece of kindling that he used as an officer’s swagger stick. “Pity you visited both those beasts. Now they know you’re up to no good, so to speak.”

  Jack had been sitting quietly, staring into the fire. Now he spoke up, “Have they ever seen Hubert or Filbert?”

  Alix turned to him. “The firedrake has - but in armor they’d be unrecognizable.”

  Jack said, “That’s it, then. We’ll get your brothers back and make them heroes at the same time! He jumped up and strode to the wall map. “Suppose we sent you out first….”

  * * * *

  When the battle plans were complete, Lord Wilfred and Jack outfitted Alix with appropriate magical weapons. Moments later the princess appeared in the blaring heat and orange light on the lower slope of Mount Sulfur.

  To know she was there, you would need to notice the ghostly footprints that appeared in the volcanic ash, because she was wearing the cap of darkness. (She’d recalled that the firedrake used infra-red only for dueling.) The footprints walked uphill past mound after sorrowful mound of ashes and bits of old armor, all that was left of the warriors who had taken up arms against Griddle.

  “So many of them,” her bodiless voice observed sadly.

  Twenty more yards up the slope, the footprints stopped beside the melted wreck of a little hand-pumped fire engine. “Aha!” said the princess’ voice, and a few great drops of gray, green, greasy Limpopo river water splashed on the ash mound. A bright flash of light and Hubert was standing there, good as new.

  “For Gwendolyn and mmmffph!” he shouted as Alix clamped a hand over his mouth.

  “Hubert!” she whispered, “quiet!!”

  He wrenched away and spun around, struggling to draw his sword. “Who? Wha? Mmffph!”

  Princess Alix appeared by lifting the cap off her head. “Hubert, it’s me - I mean I, of course. It’s Alix, Hubert.” She took her hand off his mouth and whispered, “The firedrake is sleeping.”

  “Sleeping?” said Hubert loudly, then winced at his own voice and whispered, “Sleeping; right! Hey, did I sleep too? All afternoon?”

  Alix mouthed I’ll tell you later, wrapped an arm around her brother and replaced the magic cap. They vanished.

  Hubert’s voice shouted, “Hey!”

  “Shhh, Hubert!”

  “Shhh, right, I forgot; hey, why are we hugging?”

  “It makes you invisible.”

  “What does?”

  A desperate whisper: “Please, Hubert! Walk this way.”

  Two sets of tangled footprints stumbled down the slope. As they moved off, Hubert’s voice floated back, “Kind of like dancing.”

  Wrapped around Hubert, Princess Alix lurched a slow hundred yards down the rough slope until they could take shelter behind a wall of boulders. She pulled off her cap, sat down with her brother, and explained what had happened to him.

  Hubert looked at her goggle-eyed. “I was really dead?” She nodded. “Wow!”

  Alix smiled. “Just rest here while I go look for Filbert.”

  “Is he lost?” The princess put her cap on and vanished. “Wow!” Hubert repeated.

  When she finally found Filbert’s ashes beside the skeleton of his catapult, Alix was so far up the slope that the heat was almost unbearable and the snores of the sleeping firedrake rattled her teeth. To avoid startling Filbert as she had Hubert, Alix took off her cap before sprinkling his ash pile.

  She startled him anyway. Her reconstituted brother jumped up, spun around, saw her, and screamed.

  The thunderous snoring stopped.

  She quickly covered his mouth with one hand while pointing up hill with her other one, then signed shhh with a finger on her lips. Filbert understood - in body and brain he was not as quite thick as his brother. He looked terrified, nodded, mimed shh in return.

  The firedrake carried on snoring. Alix embraced Filbert, put her cap on, and did the disappearing trick.

  “Whoa! Where’d I go?”

  Desperately, “Shhh, Filbert!”

  “Sorry!”

  When she had reunited her brothers, Alix whisked them all to safety in the next valley over, and now they were sitting on a fallen tree trunk in the relative coolness of evening, with a fire to warm up a supper of meat pies and pear juice.

  “Oh, that hits the spot,” Filbert mumbled through a mouthful of steak and kidney, “pass the pear juice, will you?”

  Hubert did. “And Filbert was dead too?”

  Filbert swallowed. “So quick I never felt it.”

  Hubert looked at his big sister. “Why’d you bring us back? You never liked us.”

  Alix looked as if she’d been punched. “What…” she began faintly, “whatever made you think that?”

  “Well, you said nothing we did was ever good enough.”

  Filbert nodded. “You were always criticizing.”

  She shook her head, “I only wanted to help.” But the new Alix realized how hollow that sounded.

  Seeing her distress, Filbert said, “Maybe you were just a lot smarter.”

  Sitting between her brothers, Alix wrapped an arm around each of them and stared into the fire. “I know lots of stuff,” she said reflectively, “and I can do more things than average; but you know what? There’s a lot more to smart than that - a lot more ways to be smart; I found that out. Without friends to help, I wouldn’t have known how to find you both.”

  Hubert and Filbert didn’t answer because they couldn’t quite admit that having their big sister’s arms around them felt good.

  Chapter 12

  Fire and Ice

  The following morning, Princess Alix patiently coached Prince Hubert in using the seven league boots. At first he disappeared, reappeared, disappeared, reappeared, until Alix yelled at him. “Stop shifting from foot to foot, Hubert; take one step and then another.”

  Then she wished she had explained that more fully because Hubert vanished for 20 minutes. He reappeared covered with snowflakes, which turned to steam on the spot.

  “Hubert, where were you?”

  “I dunno, but you should have seen that big white bear!” His red face shone with pleasure.

  “Right,” said the princess, sighing, “but Mount Sulfur is only…” Her attention was diverted by Prince Filbert, who flew past her upside down, while emitting a sort of yodeling scream. “He can’t get the hang of that flying feather,” said Alix. Then Filbert suddenly did seem to gain control of the feather. He turned right side up, at least, and started to fly in one direction at a time.

  A few minutes later he managed to land without breaking any bones, and the princess drew her brothers together for final instructions. Then Filbert flew off with a showy last swoop around the valley, and Hubert prepared to walk to Mount Sulfur, ten steps away.

  “Get the firedrake talking,” the princess counseled her brother, “when he’s speaking, he doesn’t spit lava or shoot flames from his nostrils.”

  Hubert was as brave as Filbert was, well, not; so he grinned happily. “Be back soon, Sis,” he said, took a step, and vanished.

  “Sis?” Alix said to herself, “well, I’ll take that as progress.” She wished herself to the top of one of the hills that ringed the valley and settled down to wait.

  Hubert reached the slopes of Mount Sulfur in exactly ten strides. The volcano was quiet today, and cool enough to allow him close to the rim. He looked down into the lava lake, to find Griddle the firedrake swimming the backstroke and singing a morning song:

  I gargle with boiling hot lava,

  And spit fiery loogies of death.

  If the sight of my mug doesn’t kill you,

  You’ll drop dead at the blast of my breath.

  (chorus)

  Youuuull… drop dead at the blast of my breath, my breath...

  Hubert stopped him with a shrill whistle, then, “Hi! Firedrake,” he shouted, “your singing smells as bad as that breath of yours!”

  “Well, what have we here
?” asked Griddle, delighted to find another opponent. Business was picking up a treat lately.

  “The blast of your breath, huh?” Hubert shouted.

  “Yes,” said the firedrake, “And I will give you a sample. Ruuuuucccckkk-TOOEY!” But the fiery spitball merely struck the dead tree where Hubert had been. He was now on the other side of the crater, a league off. “Impressive,” Griddle admitted, “Ruuuuucccckkk…”

  “Wait! I bring a message from your old friend, the iceworm.”

  The firedrake’s re-aimed his great iron head and a molten loogie shot straight up in the air and exploded into a fireball with a painful BOOM! that shook the ground and sent lava rocks rattling downhill.

  “All right,” Hubert conceded, “not your friend. She says you’re zero without that lava lake for fuel.”

  “Oh, please!” Griddle answered, “I can melt her to a puddle and boil it to steam!”

  Hubert nodded. “Sure, because you’re swimming in all that fire. Iceworm says you’re too big a coward to meet her on neutral ground.”

  The firedrake sighed and a firestorm boiled out of his nostrils. “Oh, all right, then.” The great iron monster rose out of the lake on his bumblebee wings and started flying toward Hubert. “Lead the way, kid; I’ll use you for warm-up practice.”

  Griddle shot fire and Hubert stepped away from him; and so they set out for the little valley, with Hubert skipping a league at a step and the firedrake flying behind him, exploding lava loogies where the prince had just been.

  * * * *

  Prince Filbert, meanwhile, was 20 leagues in the opposite direction, flying cautiously into the iceworm’s dead valley. Filbert was not burdened by excess courage, so he trembled as he floated slowly toward the mouth of the great worm’s cave.

  “Hey,” he quavered, then cleared his throat and repeated “Hey!” more loudly. “In there! Is anybody home? No? Well, I guess I can always come back…”

  “I’m alwayss in ressidencce; Who ssummonss me?”

  The voice was so cold and so evil that Filbert’s trembling threatened to get out of control, and the sudden temperature drop made things worse. He shook so badly that he could hardly think, let alone speak. “Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah,” he began, “ah, how do you do?” he managed in a squeaky voice, “My name’s Filbert.”

  The blue-white ribbon, over 20 feet wide but just one foot thick uncoiled from the cave mouth and the flat, fanged head rose to peer at him. “Mine iss Sslicce.”

  “I… I dropped by to do you a favor - well, I mean, bring you some news.”

  The iceworm shrugged dismissively. “What newss could a creature like you dissclosse?”

  “Breaking news, you might call it; Firedrake’s out of his volcano.”

  The frosty head shot a quick 20 feet in the air. “He’ss forssaken the ssafety of hiss firess?”

  “He’s flying into the next valley over.”

  “Sshow where that iss!”

  Distracted by fear, Filbert had drifted downward. He pointed. “That way.”

  The wide slit mouth curled in a ghastly smile. “I ssupposse I musst ssay thanksssssssss,” and the iceworm blew an air puff that formed frost all over Filbert’s hair.

  Like rabbits and other natural prey, Prince Filbert had very fast reflexes, so he was able to swoop up out of range. Hovering high in the searing air that blasted the whole kingdom except for the iceworm’s valley, he quickly defrosted, then watched in horrid fascination as yard after yard after blue-white yard of the worm’s ribbon body surged out of the cave and coiled its way toward the battle site. He followed discreetly as the monster rippled into the next valley. The leaves dropped from trees at her passing, the grass frosted over, and frozen birds fell dead from the sky. The iceworm slithered onward, killing every living thing in her path.

  * * * *

  While her brothers were goading the monsters out of their lairs and leading them toward the battlefield, Princess Alix stayed at her choice observation point on a high hill and waited.

  She did not wait long. The small valley was ringed on all sides by mountains. Behind them, to the west, the clouds overhead burned fiery orange as the firedrake flew nearer. Opposite, to the east, the sky darkened to leaden gray to mark the passage of the deadly iceworm.

  Then each monster appeared over a mountain rim and started down toward the center of the valley. The western part burned to black ash as the firedrake flew over it, with trees bursting into flame and bushes simply exploding. The eastern half froze, foot-by-foot, as the broad flat head of the iceworm crossed it, dragging her endless body behind. The two climates met in a ragged line across the center of the valley - a line that hissed and bubbled steam a hundred yards into the air.

  On the western side of the battle line, the firedrake buzzed down, landed, and folded his dragon wings. “Geez, I hate flying,” Griddle wheezed.

  On the opposite side, the iceworm slithered down the mountain slope, as unstoppable as a glacier but as fast as an avalanche. She rippled forward until she faced her historic foe. “What ssendss you down, old nemessiss?”

  The firedrake reared his iron head and roared, “To teach you your place, you disgusting tapeworm!”

  “My placce, ssilly upsstart? Let uss ssee!”

  Rising to his full 50-foot height, the firedrake pounded forward on his powerful legs, like a giant bull stalking a matador.

  A shiver rippled the half-league length of the iceworm as she surged to meet her foe. They collided at the battle line with a deafening noise and a cloud of steam that nearly hid them from Alix’s view. She could spy shapes coming and going in the steam bath, just white ribbon wrapping red iron. The firedrake made a sound like a lion’s roar plus an elephant’s trumpet, plus a factory whistle at noon. The iceworm emitted a horrible shriek, like the world’s biggest finger nail scraping the world’s biggest chalkboard.

  Yards of blue-white ribbon coiled around a glowing hoof and the firedrake howled with pain as his leg turned black. Heaving himself into the air, he flipped head downward and gored the iceworm with his horns, punching again and again through the freezing skin. The iceworm’s shriek became a scream of agony and the flesh around each horn gash turned sodden pink and melted like rotten ice. Wrenching her endless body into accordion folds, she flung a great length of herself over the firedrake’s back. The steam doubled and the firedrake bellowed in agony.

  On and on they fought, the firedrake goring and melting the iceworm, the iceworm sucking the vital heat from the firedrake into the coils of her frozen body. As more and more of her dissolved into water, the battlefield turned into steaming mud.

  By this time Princes Hubert and Filbert had joined their sister on the hilltop and, of course, had chosen sides to root for.

  Hubert hit Filbert a brotherly whack on the back. “Your poor old worm is toast, Filbie; my firedrake’ll kill her, sure.”

  Filbert wheezed from his brother’s affectionate pat and then said, “That clanking boiler? Hah! My iceworm’s going to put him out like a match in a water bucket!”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “You’re on!”

  They were too engrossed in the combat to notice that Princess Alix had vanished. But scoreless tie matches are not exciting indefinitely. After an hour of inconclusive roaring, shrieking, steaming, flailing, wrapping, and goring, the battlefield was a sodden swamp and the two horrid monsters - from what little could be seen through the steam and mud - were still flogging each other with unflagging energy. So the brothers were bored and restless by the time their sister reappeared on the hilltop - this time with a strange man beside her.

  “Hubert, Filbert, meet Jack Brambel.”

  The men made introductory noises and then Filbert said, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  Jack smiled amiably. “I’m from England.”

  Hubert creased heavy brows in thought. “England: that’s someplace west of us.”

  Jack kept smiling, “Close enough.”

  Alix said, “Jack and I w
ill take a turn now.”

  Hubert’s face clouded up but Jack said quickly, “We’ll just do some cleanup since you knights have done all the hard part.” The princes nodded, satisfied, and Alix shot Jack an admiring glance. He seemed to notice other people’s feelings and then make those feelings good.

  Princess Alix and Jack wore regular clothing because even magic couldn’t make heat-proof, cold-proof, waterproof armor that anybody could move in. They divided up the magical gifts they had brought, those that had been designated weapons, per section Four-D of Operation Fire and Ice. Alix took the flying feather, the magic sword Excalibur, and the Shield of Diamond. Jack took up the magic strongbox, which could safely contain anything, no matter how dangerous, and the seven league boots.

  The princess handed the leather pouch of Limpopo water to Hubert. “Don’t drink it or spill it,” she cautioned.

  “What does it do?” Hubert asked.

  “It brings the dead to life; don’t you remember?”

  “We were dead at the time,” Filbert answered quite reasonably.

  “Oh, right.” Alix buckled on the magic sword, grasped the shield in her left hand, and flew off toward the battle.

  “Gentlemen,” Jack said, saluting. He took a step and vanished.

  “He seems all right,” said Filbert. Hubert shrugged and nodded and settled back to watch the show.

  Chapter 13

  The Battle Ends and an Army Begins

  Princess Alix had not tested the shield of diamond, a ten-inch leather plate with a handle in back and an admittedly big diamond in front. But a shield only ten inches across? Hovering at a safe height above the battle, she looked at the monsters flailing away at each other and hoped for the best. Touching the diamond, she ordered, “Shield, protect me!”

  With a hum like a swarm of honeybees, a disc of blue light spread out from the gem to form a shallow, shimmering half-dome in front of her. To test it, Alix held up the shield and flew hard behind it, straight into a giant boulder. Despite the high speed collision, she was not hurt or shaken. She didn’t even rebound because the shield somehow absorbed the force completely, glowing brighter blue as it did so. Nodding her satisfaction, Alix turned her attention back to the battle.