"Did you see a wagon master pass through here? His name was Geronimo."
Sir Reyneth was speaking to a lean man in his upper 30's. Gorbin looked like he hadn't shaved or cut his hair for many months. The man's oily skin smelled of burnt fungus. When asked who the town mayor or leader was, he shrugged, and insisted that they all shared the same responsibilities. No single person ruled here, beyond the simple taxes they paid the realm. Most of the locals did not seem to want to interact with the Twilight Knight or his Shining Shield Knights. At least this one was willing to interact for a few moments.
Gorbin rolled his eyes, "Yes the fat one drank up nearly three days worth of fermented milk, and ate five portions of smoked goat steak I was saving. We charged him up the wall for it, but he kept on demanding more food and drink. Thank goodness he left the next morning after he realized we had few supplies we could afford to trade to settle his appetites any longer."
Partly true.
As the Twilight Knight scanned the farm yards and dilapidated hovels, it was clear that this was not a prosperous town. Many of the houses looked burned or repaired with trash or old wooden planks. Goats, pigs, sheep, and chickens were kept in pens, but they did not look very plentiful or healthy. Most of the locals spent their time tending to the patchy fields where they grew under-producing crops. Clearly there was few resources they would be able to share with anyone. With the harvest season soon approaching, they would have hard time preparing for winter with the way their production levels were looking.
Reyneth inquired further, "And which way did he go?"
"South most likely. Heading for Eclipsys, no doubt."
Two children hugged up against Gorbin's legs. His family. Their fingers and faces were smudged with ash.
"Is there a place nearby I can go to water my horses? They are parched from our journey."
With a sharp whistle through his disfigured teeth, somebody listening inside his house answered the filthy mans' call. A woman with singed black and grey pepper hair appeared with a large gourd filled with water. She approached the First Knight's horse first, and it began to drink with a devilish thirst.
"My thanks."
There was an awkward silence. Gorbin was sizing up the Knight, clearly not impressed. Sir Reyneth turned to look back at his men, though actually looking for clues with his peripheral vision.
"Gorbin, may I ask what happened here? Is that your house? It looks like it was burned."
"'Aye. Lisa burned some bread in the oven. It caught fire, and we don't have access to much water here up on the hill, so we had to let it run its course."
Gorbin did not make eye contact with the knight as he spoke. A lie.
"And what about the other houses?"
As the woman began to offer water to the other horses, Gorbin and her exchanged a nervous glance.
"Lightning."
"In a rain storm?"
"Hap'ns all th'time. All it takes is one spark, and the whole town might go up in flames. Nuttin' we can do 'bout it."
"I catch your meaning. Thank you for your help, we won't trouble you any further. " As the First Knight turned around he called to his First Lieutenant and gave the order to rally up in formation to ride. "Shields unite! Ho!"
All at once they batted their glittering silver shields against their chest plates. Their rehearsed response was a resounding, "Ho!"
As darkness fell over the forest, the knights were settling into their new campsite. Most of the men held their own quiet conversations with one or two others. First Lieutenant Sir Harold was wrapped up in a warm wolf-skin pelt for warmth on his bedroll while Sir Reyneth leaned up against a large rock pondering the events that led them here.
"What did you think of the Peezies? They didn't seem to trust us, did they?"
Sir Reyneth looked over at Sir Harold sullenly, "No. I feel sorry for them though."
Sir Harold laughed, "Why? They act like they are the poorest people in the realm, but they have the lowest taxes and the most fertile lands. It is no wonder people rarely want to trade with them or visit their unwelcoming primitive town."
"They put on a show. I think that they work hard, but they conceal the truth."
"And what truth is that?"
He inhaled deeply before responding, "A dragon."
In the realms there were tales of dragons long ago, but none had been sighted in over a century. Dragon Slayers of the past age made a good living killing off the last of the legendary beasts. The oldest of the dragons ruled over grand cities as tyrants, demanding gold and livestock as tribute. If someone so much as annoyed a dragon, he might soon find his house and fields burned to a crisp, or even learn what the inside of a dragon's gullet looks like. It was believed that the dragons were now extinct, and all of their dens had been looted long ago.
Every now and then, a peddler might try to sell something he claimed was a dragon's tooth, or the powdered bones from a dragon fossil. Generally such things were not considered reliable artifacts. Snake oil trinkets and superstitious charms. It made the legends that much harder for people to believe in.
When he was a boy, Reyneth's father had told him stories of the the majestic, yet terrifying dragons. Each species of dragon had a different color of scales. You could guess where a dragon's lair might be hidden by the color of its scales. Blue dragons loved the sea and streams. Yellow dragons, the desert. Green dragons, forests. Red dragons, the lofty mountains. Black dragons, the swamps. There were even tales of dragons made of glittering metal scales. Some say those dragons lived in the sky. Others say they came from the abyss, and their homes were deep under the bowels of volcanoes, fortunately now dormant.
"A jealous dragon. One that does not like to see fat men eating and drinking his share of the best meats and milk. A hungry dragon would have made short work of Geronimo and his horses. A greedy dragon would have taken every ounce of the the treasure back to his lair." Sir Reyneth grabbed the poker stick and began to shift the hot coals in the campfire around.
Sir Harry shook his head in disbelief. "So you're saying a jealous, hungry, greedy dragon ate the wagon master? An interesting theory, considering all of the dragons were killed off in the age of legends. That is, if they even existed at all."
"They most certainly did. Only a red dragon could instill that kind of fear into the hearts of an entire town. They wouldn't even dare ask for help, because they don't believe anyone can help them." He stabbed the poker at a red hot coal, and it burst into cinders, igniting anew, spreading flames onto the larger logs. "They may not ask for help, but I intend to help them. They do not deserve to live underneath this tyranny. Nobody does."
Harry laughed. "So, you're planning to kill a dragon?"
"If that's what it takes, then so be it."
Harry lifted his hands up, exacerbated by this revelation. "But they don't even like you! Nobody likes the Peezies, and the Peezies, by all accounts, prefer it that way. Always have, and always will."
"I don't care. Let them decide how they will live, as long as it is not forced upon them by a ruthless monster they have no chance of ever defeating. I will not allow their children, grandchildren, and all their future generations to endure the same loathsome hardships as this generation. A dragon can live many centuries, and they only become more formidable with each passing year."
A branch snapped. It wasn't from the campfire.
With a sharp whisper, Sir Reyneth was on the alert. "Did you hear that?"
"Probably just one of the men, out to relieve himself."
A great gust of wind poured over the campsite. The fire fluttered. The flames grew at first, and then battled against the ferocity of the air, then swiftly went out.
Darkness descended on the camp.
The ring of a sword being drawn cut through the silence, before the shrieks of a murderous pack of a hellish beasts erupted.
It was an ambush.
Thanks for reading this short story. I have a second part in mind for this portion of my story to continue, so please check back in on my feed soon. I guarantee the next one will be more action packed. When Sir Reyneth enters the battle in the next chapter, I am hoping it will be an epic introduction to his unique abilities, so stay tuned.
All photos in this post are available for use on pixabay.com
