Mistress of Dragons (7 page)

“I
have heard that this Ramsgate is a large city, wealthy and prosperous, and that
its markets are famous throughout the realm.”

“That’s
true, master,” said the boy proudly.

“Yet,
I find the highway empty. No one travels to Ramsgate, it seems, except myself.
Can you tell me why that is?”

“Why,
the dragon, master,” said the boy, looking as astonished as if Draconas had
expressed a wish to know what that strange yellow orb was, blazing in the
heavens. “You mean to say you ain’t heard what’s been going on? S’all anyone’s
been talkin’ about.”

“No,
I am sorry to say, I haven’t,” said Draconas. “A dragon, you say?” He glanced
skyward.

“Yes,
master.” The boy jerked a thumb at his companions. “That’s why we’re here. We’re
hoping for a sight of the monster.”

“He’s
come every day for a fortnight,” added another boy, younger than the other two,
probably a little brother, tagging along. “Joe, the miller’s boy, seen him.
Green, he was, and huge, with fire a’blazing from his mouth and the blood of
those he slaughtered a’smearing of his claws.”

“He
didn’t slaughter Joe, I hope,” said Draconas.

“No,
sir. Joe run for the bushes when he saw the monster and hid there ‘til it flew
past. But the dragon’s killed thousands of people and set fire to all the
villages up and down the river.” The boy looked positively thrilled.

“No
wonder no one is on the road,” said Draconas. “Killed thousands, you say? This
dragon does sound a fearsome beast. Still, you lads do not appear to be afraid
of it.”

“We’re
not,” said the first boy, though he kept looking warily at the sky.

“Is
anyone going to fight this dragon?” Draconas asked.

“The
king and his knights set out in search of him. We seen ‘em ride out of the city
gates and then we seen ‘em ride back in, all hot and angry and a’swearing that
they didn’t get a sniff of the monster the livelong day.”

“And
they wasn’t even out of the saddle a’fore a farmer comes running in a’crying
that the dragon has made off with his herd,” chimed in the little brother. “And
then they swore some more. The king swore, too. I heared him.”

“The
markets and shops is all closed,” spoke up the third boy. “People are a’feared
to stick their noses outen their windows. Joe said that the miller said that
the monster will be the ruin of us, even if he don’t kill us all in our beds.”

“A
wise man, the miller. Here is a copper for each of you,” said Draconas,
removing the pouch and doling out the coins. “And one for the intrepid Joe.”

He
started off across the bridge.

“Wait,
master!” cried the boy. “You’re a’headin’ into the city.”

“Well,
what of it?” said Draconas.

The
boys ran alongside. “Even after we told you about the dragon? Ain’t you a’feared?”

“I
am,” said Draconas. “But I need the work.”

“There
ain’t much work to be had,” said the boy. “Not since the dragon come. What work
do you do?”

“I’m
a dragon hunter,” said Draconas.

He
continued on down the highway, the towers of the city of
Ramsgate-upon-the-Aston before him and the empty road behind. The boys, after a
moment’s conferring, left the bridge and scampered along the banks of the
river, to take Joe his copper and tell him the exciting news.

Draconas
arrived at the city gates, which should have been standing wide open to welcome
all and sundry. This day, the gates were closed and barred. Draconas shook his
head, amused.

“They
must think the dragon is going to fly in through the front door,” he muttered.
The irony of his statement struck him and he gave a shrug. “Well, well. Perhaps
they are not so foolish, after all.”

The
city walls were heavily manned. Sunlight gleamed off the helmed heads that
peered at him over the ramparts. Only a few looked down at him. Most were
tilted upward, searching the skies.

Eschewing
the enormous main gate, Draconas made for a wicket, set off to one side. The
door opened as he drew near. A large man, armored in plate and chain from head
to toe, a dazzling sight in the noonday sun, waved the traveler to step inside.

“You’re
a bold one, mister, to be out in broad daylight,” said the guard, fixing
Draconas with a keen look.

“Not
so bold as in need of work,” Draconas answered. “I heard that my talents might
be of use in Ramsgate and so I made haste to travel here.”

“Ramsgate-upon-the-Aston,”
the guard corrected dourly. “We’re particular about the name, there being a
town called Ramsgate about twenty miles south of here. A low sort of town, if
you take my meaning. We don’t like being confused.”

“I
beg your pardon,” said Draconas. “And I beg the pardon of
Ramsgate-upon-the-Aston.”

“In
fact,” continued the guard, frowning, “you might be best advised to take
yourself to Ramsgate. They welcome beggars, I hear. We do not.”

“I
am not a beggar,” said Draconas mildly, maintaining his pleasant demeanor.

“You
said you had no work.”

“I
said I was looking for work and I’m fairly certain of finding it here. My name
is Draconas. I am a dragon hunter.”

The
guard’s eyes widened in astonishment, then narrowed in suspicion. “Here, now,
if you’re a dragon hunter, where’s your great sharp sword and your armor and
your shield? And where’s your horse?”

Catching
sight of Draconas’s staff, the guard leapt to a conclusion. He backed up a
pace, made the sign against evil. “You’re one of them devil-serving warlocks,
aren’t you?”

“I
have come to Ramsgate-upon-the-Aston to offer my services to your king,”
Draconas stated. “As for how I deal with the dragon, that is my concern. Though
I would point out that sharp swords and shields and horses have not done you
much good thus far.”

The
guard’s forehead furrowed in a frown. Rattling his sword, he said in
threatening tones, “Be gone, foul wizard! Our king has no need for the services
of those who worship the devil.”

“On
the contrary, your king is the one who sent for me,” Draconas said coolly. “Let
me speak to your commander.”

The
guard hesitated, then shoved his blade back in its sheathe. “Wait here,” he
ordered and clanked off.

He
was back with his commander. “You say His Majesty sent for you, sir. I suppose
you have proof?”

Draconas
removed the leather pouch from the end of the walking staff, opened it, took
out a letter, opened that partway, and pointed at the signet at the bottom.

The
guard peered at it closely. “That’s His Majesty’s,” he said, straightening.

Draconas
folded up the letter, placed it back into the pouch.

“Now,
sir,” he said, “I have told your cohort who and what I am and I assume he has
told you. I have told him my business—I am here to deal with the dragon. And I
have showed you a letter with His Majesty’s seal. I am expected at the palace
and I intend to keep my appointment with His Majesty. You may send an escort
with me, if you do not trust me.”

The
commander looked past the dragon hunter to the empty road, down which no
travelers had come this day nor would any come another day, so long as there
was a marauding dragon about. The commander’s thoughts went to the market, whose
stalls were empty as the road, to his friends and neighbors who were starting
to grow restless. His gaze shifted to the gleaming towers of the palace,
where—it was said—the king was at his wit’s end.

“Take
him along,” the commander ordered the gate guard. “His Majesty will decide
whether to see him or not. If His Majesty turns him out, bring him straight
back here.” He turned to Draconas. “Will that do, sir?”

“More
than fair, Commander,” replied Draconas.

“You
had best make haste,” said the commander, opening the wicket. “One never knows
when or where the foul monster will suddenly appear.”

“One
never does,” Draconas agreed politely.

Draconas
had visited many human realms in his six hundred years, but Ramsgate-upon-the-Aston
had not been one of them. He could see that he had missed something. He was
impressed with the cleanliness of the city, its obvious wealth and
prosperity—both of which were being threatened by the presence of the dragon.
Braun had really been outdoing himself. The boy’s tale of the dragon
slaughtering thousands wasn’t true, of course. Braun and Draconas were to bend
the laws of Dragonkind, not shatter them.

Nor
did they need to. The sight of the dragon sweeping down from the skies, slaying
cattle, burning barns and hay ricks, was all that was needed to terrorize the
populace.

“In
a week’s time,” Draconas predicted, well aware of human foibles, “a hundred
dead cows will become a hundred dead people. A single barn burned will be a
city ravaged.”

He
was glad to see his faith in humanity had been upheld.

The
guard was sullen and uncomfortable in Draconas’s presence and refused to be
drawn into discussion. He walked the streets in grim and clanking silence,
always at Draconas’s elbow, though the guard took great care not to touch him.
The only time the guard deigned to speak was to point out the local abbey,
where he laid great emphasis on the fact that the priests would be more than
happy to save Draconas from demonic influence. The guard also took Draconas past
the town square where, so he said pointedly, they burned witches.

Draconas
paid scant attention. He was taking in every detail, making note of every
street, every building, making his evaluation. Above all, he was interested in
the ruler of this fair land of Idlyswylde.

His
castle was typical of those Draconas had visited in other realms. Built on the
high ground, it had started out as a motte and bailey structure established on
a hill above the river. The now proud city of Ramsgate-upon-the-Aston had probably
begun life as a ramshackle collection of thatched-roofed huts, huddled close to
the wooden bailey for protection.

Over
the years, the wooden fortress had been transformed into an imposing castle of
white stone with turrets and towers and ramparts and crenellations, courtyards
and outbuildings, stables and barracks. Scaffolding raised on the south side of
the castle walls meant that improvements to the palace were ongoing. The city
had crawled out of its thatched-roofed huts and moved into grand stone and
timber structures, with plastered walls and garishly painted signs, paved
streets and flowers in pots.

Draconas
was not one to be impressed by architecture— dragons live in caverns, where the
temperature remains unchanged year-round, perfect for cold-blooded reptiles,
and he found that even after six hundred years, he still felt most at home in
caves. He was more interested in this proof that the castle and the city had
grown and prospered and thrived. Prosperity indicated a realm at peace with its
neighbors.

A
realm at peace, until now. Now that the dragon had come.

Arriving
at the palace, Draconas and his escort walked through the main gate and into a
vast courtyard crowded with young men, half-in and half-out of their armor,
shouting and gesticulating and proclaiming loudly that the dragon had seen them
coming and been too scared to fight. These must be the knights who had ridden
out in search of the dragon. Draconas inclined his head as he walked past them.
The knights paid him no attention, but kept on talking.

The
surly guard led Draconas to the main entrance of the castle. Keeping Draconas
under close surveillance, the guard hallooed at the top of his lungs for
someone to come.

After
several moments, a man appeared, emerging from a side door, ducking underneath
the scaffolding.

“Ah,
Gunderson,” the guard grunted. “Just the man.”

The
two conferred. Draconas heard the word “devil” used several times. Gunderson
was an older man, missing most of his front teeth and an eye. His remaining
eye, fixed intently on Draconas, held intelligence enough for six. He had the
air of a military man.

“You
bear the king’s letter, sir?” Gunderson asked, leaving the guard and walking
over to Draconas.

“I
do,” said Draconas, reaching for the pouch.

Gunderson
waved his hand. “This way, sir.”

The
guard cast Draconas a glance of loathing, “You’re walking with the devil,
Gunderson,” the guard warned.

“I’ll
soak myself in holy water, Nate, if it’ll make you feel better,” Gunderson
replied.

“
‘Tis no joking matter,” the guard said and, muttering underneath his breath, he
made another sign against evil and stalked stiffly away. “I’ll be speaking to
Brother Bascold about this.”

“I’m
sorry to be the cause of any trouble,” said Draconas, falling into step beside
Gunderson. “I guess I shouldn’t have been so open about my calling. Where I’m
from, the people are not so backward—the people are not so close-minded,” he
amended tactfully.

“You
were right the first time, sir,” said Gunderson with a grin. “Backward is the
word for it. Nate is a country boy and he still believes witches eat babies and
dance naked in the forest in the moonlight.”

“I
assure you,” said Draconas, “that I have never danced naked anywhere, in the
woods or out of them.”

Gunderson
laughed. He had a fine laugh, broad and rolling.

“Wait
here. I’ll inform His Majesty.”

Gunderson
brought Draconas into a large hall, then left him to go in search of the king.
Draconas looked curiously around. The stone walls kept the air in the cavernous
hall as cool as the air in the Hall of Parliament, and the room was nearly as
dark. Slit windows let in only a small portion of sunlight and, since the room
faced east, even that had been cut off by the sun’s sojourn to the other side
of heaven. Several pieces of fine furniture decorated the hall and these,
including leather, high-backed wooden chairs and a small table, were arranged
before an enormous fireplace placed along the center wall. A huge rectangular
table, intended for serving meals to a large company, stood at one end of the
hall, with benches at the low end—below the salt—and chairs at the other. This
was the public hall. The family’s private rooms would be elsewhere.