The Rescue
by Steve McCallister
Sir Malin entered the king’s private chamber. He bowed respectfully, hiding a smile as he watched the old man struggle to his feet. They approached one another, meeting in front of a roaring fireplace, which, along with providing heat, provided the only light in the room. Malin knew that the king, quickly aging beyond his ability to rule, was very sensitive to bright lights and cold these days. Already, many noblemen were conspiring to gain the support needed to replace the king when the time was right. Malin was among them, and considered himself to be the one most likely to assume the throne, but only if the king did not live long
enough for any of the other nobles to steal Malin’s supporters. Noblemen… they changed allegiances more often than the weather.
“Malin, so glad you could come,” King Aylward greeted him, extending a hand.
“Your majesty,” Malin bowed again over the king’s hand. “Of course I came as soon as I received your summons.”
“You are a loyal knight, Sir Malin. You are a true hero of the realm. I’ve called you here for a very important reason.”
Malin listened, intrigued. The king did not often praise his knights.
“I know I’m not long for this world, Malin,” the king continued. “And so, before I claim my place in the next life, it is my duty to see that my kingdom will continue to thrive long after I’ve gone. I would name my successor, Malin, and I think it should be you.”
“My lord! You honor me beyond words!”
“However, I think my successor should be the one who marries my daughter. It would guarantee the support of the people, don’t you think?”
“I… I do, milord, but the Princess Claresta has been missing these last four years. How is anyone to marry her?”
“I have discovered that my daughter lives, Malin! But she is being held by a ferocious dragon in Talybont Forest. To give the appearance of neutrality, I will send all the knights on a quest to rescue my daughter, but because I want you to succeed, Malin, I’m giving you two days advance notice.”
Malin’s eyes lit up. To have the king’s support would end all the political maneuvering and ensure his place on the throne. And the Princess Claresta had been quite the beauty before she disappeared.
“Two days is not much time, your majesty. The forest is thick and deep. It would take weeks to find even something as large as a dragon.”
“Indeed it would,” Aylward agreed. “That is why I want you to take that hunting horn over the mantle. When you arrive at the forest, blow upon it and the ranger who saw my daughter at the dragon’s cave will lead you to it.”
Malin took the horn down from the large set of antlers that hung over the fireplace. Bowing respectfully to his king, he left the chamber and hurried to find his squire to prepare for their journey. It was a long ride to Talybont Forest, and guide or no guide, two days was not enough of a head start.
Two weeks later, Sir Malin and his young squire arrived at the edge of the forest. The journey had been long with no proper lodgings along the way, and he’d had to face bandits on at least three occasions. Finally, he had arrived, and he knew it was the correct forest because a large wooden sign with painted brown letters said Hic Sunt Dracones, here there be dragons.
Malin nodded to his squire. The young man raised the horn to his lips and blew a squeaky bleating noise into the forest. Malin squinted painfully at the cacophonous din, and as the young man went to blow again, Malin reached over and yanked the horn from the young man’s hand. The boy rubbed his finger along his possibly chipped tooth and struggled to keep the look of anger away from his master.
“The horn is as weak as the king,” the knight snarled viciously. “We’ll ride in without the guide.”
“You could,” a sly voice floated on the breeze from the trees, “but you’d either run afoul of orcs, stumble into the dragon’s path before you’re ready, or, if you’re lucky, become hopelessly lost forever.”
One of the branches above the sign moved and removed a hood, revealing a head of bright red hair and startlingly green eyes. His brown and green clothing blended flawlessly with the forest behind him. The owner of these features swung by one hand next to the warning sign, then dropped gracefully to the ground. With a roguish grin, he bowed with an exaggerated flourish to the knight. “I am Derak, your guide through Talybont Forest. You’ve arrived just in time, my lord. I fear the dragon plans to eat the Princess this very day. We must make haste.”
Malin weighed his options. He wasn’t sure he trusted this new scoundrel. In fact, he was sure he didn’t. But if the ranger was correct and the Princess was moments from being eaten, he could not risk killing the upstart now. After he had rescued the prison, though, he would enjoy cutting that smile from Derak’s face.
“Lead, woodsman,” Malin growled, “but know that if you mislead me, your death will be slow and beyond any pain you can imagine.”
“Duly noted, my lord,” Derak bowed again. “If you take my counsel, this should go very quickly with minimal bloodshed. You could have the Princess back here by evening.”
“And what do you advise?”
“This is a good spot for a camp. Have your squire prepare a feast fit for a princess. I’ll ride his pony into the forest and then, when you’ve defeated the dragon, you and the princess can leave me behind in the forest and ride back.”
Malin raised an eyebrow, then pulled his sword from its scabbard. “Very well. Squire, attend me!”
The squire quickly began putting Malin’s armor in place while the knight remained on horseback. It was awkward, but with shifting and standing in the saddle, soon Sir Malin looked every inch a knight.
“You,” he pointed his sword at Derak, “will carry my lance until we reach the dragon.”
“So it shall be,” Derak agreed.
Derak and the squire unpacked the squire’s pony, then Derak swung up into the saddle and took the lance from the squire. He looked back at the knight. “This way, milord.”
The two set off at a quick pace, as fast as they could safely maneuver between the trees. Malin struggled to keep the red hair and the pony in his sight as he ducked branches and batted leaves from his sight. Derak led him off the path, weaving the pony between trees and through creeks and hills. Just as Malin was sure that he was being led to a trap, Derak pulled up at the base of a mountain. Malin couldn’t be sure if it was getting dark because of the trees, the mountain, or if it was truly coming on to evening.
“From here we walk, sir,” Derak said as he slipped out of the saddle. “Best to leave the horses here. Being too close to the dragon may spook them and alert the dragon to our presence.”
“How did you find the dragon?” Malin asked as he leaned over the pommel of his saddle and swung his leg over the back of his horse and slid to the ground.
“I’ve always known the dragon was here,” Derak said, leading Malin around the base of the mountain. “We have a mutual understanding. I don’t go near it, it doesn’t eat me. That changed when I heard a woman screaming last month. I watched as the dragon herded the princess into its cave and then ate her companion.”
“But it did not eat the princess?”
“No. Despite their large size, dragons really only need to eat one large meal per month, and that meal doesn’t really need to be more than a full size man or a stag. Sadly, the forest is short on deer these days. I sent a message to King Aylward as soon as I realized who the woman was.”
“Why did you not rescue her yourself?”
Derak laughed, “Do you see a sword on me? I carry a dagger and a sling. I trap for food and make sure hunters do not kill more animals than they need or the forest can afford. I do not fight dragons.”
“The dragon lives in a cave?” Malin asked.
“Aye.”
“Then, as my squire, it will be your task to flush the dragon out of its cave. I’ll be waiting at the entrance of the cave with my lance.”
Derak stopped and turned to Malin with an extremely dubious look on his face. “Beg pardon, milord?”
“You were the one who told my squire to stay behind. Otherwise, he would do his duties without question or hesitation.”
“This is how you’ve defeated dragons in the past?”
“Of course,” Malin said, his voice full of confidence.
“Well, then… I suppose it’s my duty as a loyal subject of the king to do my part to rescue the princess,” Derak muttered with no trace of enthusiasm.
They climbed a short way up the mountain until they reached a ledge at the mouth of a large cave. They were still low enough to the ground that grass and moss made the ground lush and green, if somewhat slippery. A large tree jutted out from the mountain’s face at a precarious angle, but its roots dug deep between rocks to keep it standing, even with the added weight of the princess in its branches. As soon as she saw them, she began throwing branches and leaves at them, trying to catch their attention without calling out. Sir Malin waved to her in acknowledgement and she responded with a wave of her own, and then quickly placed her finger to her lips, urging them to be quiet.
“Oh, good sir knight,” she whispered loudly, “I do hope you’re here to rescue me, as I fear the dragon plans to eat me as soon as it awakens!”
“Do you not recognize me?” Malin asked. Granted, it had been several years since they’d seen one another, but he always felt he was the kind of person that made a lasting impression. Still, she was in a dangerous situation. “I am Sir Malin. Your father sent me to rescue you.”
“Of course, Sir Malin! I’m so glad you’ve come,” she breathed with relief. “Will you help me down?”
“First we must deal with the dragon,” Malin said, standing straight and proud. “You’re safer in the tree, for now.”
The princess pursed her lips in a disappointed moue. “Are you sure?”
Malin gave her his most charming smile, then turned to Derak. “Now, squire. Enter the cave, wake the dragon and get it to pursue you to the entrance of the cave. I’ll be waiting with the lance, braced so that the dragon will impale itself and die.”
“Great,” Derak sighed. “All I have to do is wake a monster, outrun it, not get fried, and lead it into a pointy stick. Remind me again why I’m doing this?”
“Your squire is most rebellious, Sir Malin,” Princess Claresta noted. “Have you not trained him properly?”
“I’m not a squire!” Derak said.
“He’s not normally a squire,” Malin corrected. “He is a ranger. My squire is back at our camp, making sure that when we arrive, you will be most comfortable.”
“Then I do hope you’ll make this quick.”
Malin nodded, then waved his hands at Derak, urging him into the cave. As the ranger disappeared in the darkness, Malin braced his lance against a stone and favored the princess with another smile. She motioned for him to approach. Curious, he walked back to her.
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of your squire… or ranger… or whatever he is,” she whispered conspiratorially, “but I smuggled this from the dragon’s cave. It’s a dragon egg! If you eat it, you’ll have all the power of the dragon, including resistance to the dragon’s flames!”
She dropped down a black egg that cracked when it landed in the knight’s armored hands. Noxious fumes and thick viscous liquid seeped from the shell.
“Quickly!” Princess Claresta urged. “You must swallow it to obtain the powers! If you don’t, the dragon will surely roast you before we can escape!”
His face screwed in disgust, Malin lifted the egg over his head and split it in two. The black yolk and gray fluid poured over his face and he struggled to suck it all down, gagging and retching to keep himself from throwing it all back up. His stomach clenched with painful spasms that caused him to drop the shell and hold himself.
At that moment, a deep rumble issued from the cave, followed by a roar. Flames emerged from the cave entrance. Malin hobbled back to his lance and lifted it, trying to ignore the spasms that racked his lower body. He felt something bubbling up in his chest. Fearing nausea, he opened his mouth to gulp down air and let forth a odoriferous belch that forced him to stagger back, raising and nearly dropping his lance.
As the dragon’s large red head emerged from the cave, its green eyes sparkling in the sun and saliva that looked like lava dripping from his jaws, Malin felt another cramp in his bowels and let loose with a fart that smelled peculiarly like the egg he had consumed. Malin’s vision swam and he almost swore he saw a yellow cloud forming around his waist. The armor ensured that the fumes traveled up through his helmet, as well. Even the dragon froze for a moment and stared at Malin in confusion.
Unable to handle the effects, Malin dropped the lance and removed his helmet. His stomach felt like it was on fire. He actually began to think that being eaten by the dragon would be a mercifully quick way to die. Still, there was the princess to think of, so he pulled his sword from its scabbard and charged at the dragon. He opened his mouth to shout a brave battle cry, but only another burp emerged and he had to concentrate all of his strength on his assault.
Another gastric expulsion forced him to double over and stagger forward, a fortunate
happenstance that actually let him duck under the dragon’s snapping jaws and slip
under its torso. Blindly, he swung his sword and heard a high-
The dragon eyed the princess in the tree and stalked its way to her branch. She hid her face as the dragon delicately took the shoulder of her dress in its mouth and lowered her to the ground. It stared at her suspiciously as she continued to hide her face behind her hands, her shoulders trembling. Slowly, the dragon began to shrink, its red scales becoming pink skin and its claws disappearing into fingers. Soon, the ranger Derak stood before the princess, holding his stomach and eyeing her angrily.
“What did you do?” he shouted. “I feel like I’m going to explode.”
The princess lowered her hands and revealed teary eyes over a huge grin. Around her laughter, she managed to explain. “I convinced him to eat a harpy egg!”
“A harpy egg? I’m going to have cramps and gas for weeks!”
“He deserved it, and so did you,” she said, stamping her foot in mock anger. “I saw that look you gave me when I greeted the two of you.”
“’Oh brave sir knight’?” he squeaked in a high falsetto, a caricature of the princess’ voice. “He nearly saw through your overacting. I keep telling you to keep it simple, don’t put too much into it.”
“You don’t appreciate what I do for you,” she sniffed. “My acting did put him at ease, and the harpy egg kept him from putting up much of a fight.”
“Still managed to get in a lucky strike,” Derak mumbled, rubbing his groin where the sword struck.
“Aw, poor baby,” the princess cooed. “I’ll make it better later. For now, you need to send the squire back to my father.”
Derak burped loudly. “Very well. Any message for your father?”
“Just send my love and yours,” she answered. “I’m so glad he doesn’t mind my dragon husband.”
“Not as long as I keep eating his enemies,” he muttered.
“And when you’re ready to take the throne and be the Dragon King, all your enemies will be gone, thanks to his foresight,” she reminded him.
“Yes, dear,” he sighed as he watched her walk into their home.
“Good, now be off with you.”
“Yes, dear,” he sighed again, wondering which of them was the true dragon as yet another cramp rocked his body.
Author’s Bio
Steve McCallister lives near Washington, DC, spending most of his life in the traffic on the beltway, cursing the people who drive while using their cell phones and pagers. He apologizes profusely for the fart jokes.
© 2008 eMuse-
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