Reign of the Dragon Slayer

Reign of the Dragon Slayer

         Underneath her Majesty’s vessel, the Dragon’s Keep, lie scores of charred remains. The hamlet of Shropshire no longer existed. There were survivors, to be sure, but they will forever be scarred after such a tragedy. Fire-breathing demons from Hell itself launched a horrific assault on the town and it lay in ruins. Dragons, as they were called, attacked without warning, without mercy. The attacks had increased and that kept the navy on duty without a moments rest and Londoners in a constant state of fear. The Keep was sent to Shropshire to find survivors and survey the damage. Signaling the captain, a member of the landing party shot into the air; an answering shot signaled the captain’s arrival. Soon, the captain arrived on a steam-powered lifeboat with his second. Captain Dane Cosson arrived was met by the acridity of the air and the start horror around him.

         “Aye, Captain. This be the worse one yet! The town was almost burned off the map! The flaming bastards are getting more brazen with each attack.”

         “The days are growing darker. If we don’t stop those fiery beasties, we may all end up as dragon fodder.”

         Alaric Allred, Dane’s second, returned after taking a cursory look about and brief conversations with the survivors. Shaking his head, he was alarmed by what was told to him.

         “Sir, this be nasty business. Before they were just content to burn; now, they feast. A lot of these bones were whatever was left over.”

         Dane shuddered visibly. I may be the best in the fleet, but what can I do about this?  He was assured a place with the vice-admirals once this tour completed. However, with this problem being so grave, Dane decided he was better suited to fighting onboard ship instead being a gold-plated horses’ arse. Walking over to where the survivors gathered, he spotted a young man cowering behind the burned remains of a residence. Before he could speak to him, an older man stopped him.

         “I wouldn’t if I were you, Captain. He saw his family snatched up and their bones dropped to the ground. Poor lad, he’s alone now. There ain’t much we can do for him, with what’s left of us grieving so.”

         Nodding his head, Dane continued his own tour of the wreckage. Bloodthirsty was the least palatable word that could be used. After the last survivor recounted the events, Dane looked over at the young man, disheartened. He recalled his own orphaned beginnings. His entire family died in a steamboat attack during a war with the Ottoman Empire. Shell-shocked and bereft, if it wasn’t for Admiral Laurence Fentwick, he would never have made it. His decision made, he walked over to the young man to offer his assistance.

         “Young man, may I have a word.”

         Reluctantly, the young man walked over to the captain.

         “I have nothing to add, sir.”

         As the young man fought back tears, Dane laid a hand on his shoulder.

         “This is an extraordinarily horrible situation. There aren’t any words that can ease your sorrow.”

         Recognizing the determined look in the young man’s eyes Dane knew that he had a new crewman. Vengeful, perhaps, but that may work in his favor.

         “What is your name, boy?”

         “Ronan. Ronan Castle, sir. I want to avenge my parents. Let me join the fight against these devils! Please, let me honor them by helping to destroy those beasts.”

         “Well, now! Welcome aboard then! Get your things, boy and hurry along! We don’t have time for lollygaggers!” Dane said with a hearty laugh.

         Ronan quickly gathered what survived and packed it away in a donated rucksack. Niall, one of the elders of the village, came to him. He held a covered object in his hands and wore a solemn look. Ronan wondered what caused it.

         “Come here, lad. I have something for you.”

         Pulling back the burlap cover, Ronan eyes widened as he saw a most remarkable sword. It shone with an ethereal radiance and a strange heat emanated from it. It was unlike any sword he had ever seen. It had an ornate, darkened wooden hilt; on the blade itself, odd symbols he didn’t recognize. Ronan marveled at such a wonderfully made sword.

         “Your father received it from an odd traveler from the Far East. He was must have been aboard one of them steam freighters while your father was at the shipyard picking up supplies. He was dressed like, well, it was—I don’t have a word for it and neither did your father. The man spotted him and walked up to him and said, “I have travelled far to bring this to you.” And the man gave him the sword. “For your son; this sword belongs to him for he is the One.” Then the man bowed and disappeared.”

         “That was a wild tale! Are you certain my father wasn’t having one on you?”

         The elder became incensed. Never had he heard such nonsense. He spoke sternly to Ronan.

         “Eldard Castle was a fine man, his word was always true! Don’t dare speak ill of him! May God bless him and your mother with eternal rest.  Take the sword with you, lad and don’t forget that this is your father’s legacy.”

         Patting him on his back, the elder left Ronan with the sword. Covering it, he grabbed his rucksack and ran back to Dane, uncertain, but ready to leave.

Smiling, he called to Alaric to take him aboard. Watching Ronan leave, something nagged at his soul. A portent of things to come, perhaps? Rockland, one of his crewmen, walked over to him. Well acquainted with the look on his captain’s face, he wondered what was wrong.

         “Is there something about the lad that troubles you?”

         “I don’t know as of yet, but I can assure you that this will be an epic adventure!”

         Both men rejoined the rest of the crew and steamed back to the ship. The villagers spoke in hushed whispers, afraid the monsters would return.

         “Should we have mentioned the boy’s contrary nature? There be a strange aura about him and he might be trouble.” said a haggard survivor.

         “No”, said the town’s constable, “I think we should leave it be. The boy has had heartache enough. Let fate decide what becomes of him.”

         He shuddered after he made that pronouncement. Ronan was not as the other lads in their little hamlet. It was obvious he was meant for something greater. I hope all goes well for you my boy.          Moments later, Ronan was aboard the Dragon’s Keep. This was the finest vessel of her Majesty’s fleet. The steam engines that propelled her through the merry blue was the envy of all. Captain Cosson was touted as the best captain on the four winds—as well as a rogue and a rake, depending on who told the tale. His crew was motley lot of ne’er-do-wells, hooligans and some of the most unsavory of characters. Watching them prepare to set sail, they worked as a well-oiled machine.

         “Here, boy,” Rockland growled, shoving a mop and bucket at him, “time to earn your bread. There be no sloth on this tub! Now get to swabbing! I want to eat off this deck!”

         “Yessir!” was the shocked response. Looking at the huge ship, Ronan wanted to weep.

         “A fine way to be welcomed onboard, isn’t it?”

         Ronan swabbed away, but soon was captivated by the clouds and the beauty of the merry blue. He never envisioned a life on a battle steamer, but the dragons altered his plans. He imagined how he would’ve become a blacksmith like his father; marry a pretty village girl and built a happy, meaningful life. Now, he was on a ship, mop in hand, wondering what just happened. Looking about, he began his duty anew. “Why get yelled at again?” he said to no one in particular.

         “Why, indeed?” a chuckling Dane said, startling Ronan.”Put the mop down and follow me for a moment. A tour of your new home is in order.”

         From fore to aft; to the forecastle and down to the hold, the captain introduced the newbie to the vessel. The Dragon’s Keep was as its legend bespoke—a magnificent vessel. Disrupting the tour was a missive delivered by the ensign.

         “This communication just came in. We are to rendezvous with the Commodore in London. The beasts have launched an assault there.”

         “Were we given the coordinates?”

         “The navigator’s setting a course now, sir.”

         “Good,” looking at his new crewman, he smiled. “The adventure begins, my young friend. Come, I hadn’t shown you the quarterdeck yet.”

         Walking slowly behind his captain, Ronan felt his legs wobble. He wanted revenge, true enough, but so soon? Am I ready? Well, it’s well past too late to question my decision. Taking a deep breath, he caught up with Dane and his fate.

         Dane took control of the helm. Swiftly, the Keep changed direction and was headed to London. “Give me as much speed as the ship can muster!” he yelled into the intercom to the boiler room.

         “Aye, aye, Captain!” was the answer.

         Ignored, Ronan wondered what he should do. Everyone was busy about their duties while he stood, lost. Remembering the newbie, Dane shouted to him.

         “Go topside and find Brutus; he’ll put you to work! GO!”

         Like the wind propelling the ship, Ronan ran out of the bridge. After a few awkward attempts, he found Brutus. Brutus was Dane’s key man in a battle. He made sure every man was stationed and the ship ready for a fight.

         “Alright, boy; stay close and be ready to do what I say, when I say.”

         “Yessir” was the meek reply.

         It seemed like forever before the Keep arrived in London. Swiftly sailing through the blue was the Keep. Apprehensive about the coming battle, Ronan was thrilled being on a real battleship. Billows of steam marked their path as they flew amongst the clouds. The acrid smell of smoke and the blood curdling call of the dragons marked their arrival. The Commodore had sustained a lot of damage and was barely staying in the sky. The ship’s captain, Rufus Kincaid, was relieved to see the Keep on the horizon.

         “Men! The Keep is here. Man your battle stations! We fight on!”

         A cheer erupted among the crew and the strength to fight renewed. The sight of the dragons frightened and mesmerized him. The dragons’ presence darkened the skies along with the smoke rising from the London’s streets. These creatures had stolen all he loved and yet, he found them majestic, beautiful. From their tremendous wingspans to their amber, crimson and gold scales illuminated by the fire expelled from their mighty throats. To a man, blood chilled as the eerie call of the dragons reverberated through the air.

         “Ready the cannons! Fire at will! Don’t stop until we drive the beasts from our dear London!”

         A mighty roar went up as the men began firing. Ronan was assigned the task of arming the cannons. After          Brutus quickly showed him his duty, Ronan did as he was instructed. It was hard work, but he performed admirably. The gunners were impressed with the newbie’s abilities. On deck, Dane had his men maneuvering the ship around the dragons, getting as close as possible to inflict as much damage upon the dragons. On and on, the battle raged. Other ships arrived to join the fray, increasing fire power.

With the sun setting, the dragons took flight away from the carnage. Not one of their clan was lost. Beneath them, London burned uncontrollably. Landmarks were virtually unrecognizable as they were engulfed in flames. Londoners ran throughout the streets to escape a burning death. Chaos reigned as the ships returned to dock to assist the firemen and police force with restoring order.

“Hurry men, you know what is to be done. Let’s show those beasties we cannot be defeated!”

Dane and the men came to the assistance of those charged with putting out the multitude of fires that inundated the city. Hours passed before most of the fires were under control. The crew was then asked to help the citizens with their wounded and remove the dead. It was a gruesome task. Many people were unable to escape the dragons’ fury; their charred corpses littered the streets. Ronan was shell-shocked at the scale of the dragons’ destructive power.

“Is this what Hell is? How can anyone but Satan himself survive this?”

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Ronan turned to see Alaric by his side.

“Not what you expected, eh, boy? This is what the aftermath of a battle looks like and it IS Hell. A man can’t get used to this. If he does, then he truly is a fiendish soul. Come along now, we are returning to the ship and starting repairs. The Keep has quite a bit of damage to her and all hands are needed.”

The two men headed back to the docks. At the same time, Dane, the surviving captains and military command met at the temporary headquarters set up near the Thames. A plan was being crafted in an attempt to destroy the dragons once and for all.

“London, regretfully, has fallen. Only the plague was as lethal.” Admiral Nathan Hughes began, “We must uncover their lair and eliminate them from God’s green earth!” If he was expecting cheers, he received none. Angered, the admiral continued, trying to rouse the old British sense of courage and dignity. “We have men on horseback, following the dragons. A courier will return with the locations and we will send a team in to destroy them.”

Captain Alan Bostock from the merchant steamer, the Apollo, was incensed. He lost ten men and several others were hovering near death. The steamers were also sent into battle with their limited weapons. Many ships went down in flames, not able to withstand a direct, fiery attack.

“You’ve sent those men to their deaths just as you have mine! Even if the lair is located, how do we kill them? We don’t possess the firepower needed for something like that! So what is your grand, illustrious plan, Admiral? More cannon fire?”

“A team will be sent in and charges will be set. We will seal them up and they will never escape again!”

Silence greeted Admiral Hughes’ plan. The clan would never grant entrance to those desiring their demise. The plan, on the face of it, was ludicrous and suicidal. The captains began arguing with the admirals. Shouts echoed into the empty streets, waking the ghosts of the lost. Finally Dane’s voice broke through the cacophony.

“Do we have any other choices? Can we not find another way to engage them in battle to end this or are we doomed to die a fiery death? We have no other choice! I will volunteer and take those men who wish to follow me. If we die, then God has ordained it; if we live, we will have succeeded in ending the dragons’ reign on earth.”

Silence heralded the meeting’ end and everyone left as quickly as they could. Dane and the admirals tried to put together a feasible plan. No one spoke of the obvious—this mission is a suicidal one. Before nightfall, the courier returned to the temporary headquarters. Badly injured, he brought with him a crude map of the dragons’ lair.

“They knew we were behind them, they had to! One flew back and attacked before returning to its lair. I managed to survive and drew this map. Kill them! Please, before we all die!” The courier drew a few ragged breathes before collapsing, dead.

“You shall be avenged, trust that.” he said quietly. “Who follows me? Know that you face a certain death, but we must destroy ever last one of those beasts. Who sails with me?”

Only his crew volunteered. No one else had the nerve to.

For the next two days, the admirals and Dane’s men worked on a plan of attack. Everyone assumed that this mission was suicide; they weren’t expected to return. Most of the men had no families, so they didn’t fear death. Ronan was ready—sort of. Witnessing an actual battle, he wondered whether he was man enough for the task. The sword his father gave him was now in a hilt at his side. His father’s legacy gave him strength, which was sorely needed.

“Board the ship; it’s time.” Dane yelled to the crew.

Repairs completed, the Dragon’s Keep set sailed for the clan’s lair. Prayers were said; goodbyes given and the hopes of mankind rode the winds with them. The journey was not a long one. They reached their destination short voyage. Yr Wyddfa lay in Wales; the high peak a fitting home for a clan of dragons. How long had they been there? In what manner had they established a lair, a place to nurture a clutch? There were no answers; it didn’t matter, anyway. Alaric led a small complement of men down near the lair. Each man carried charges with them, the intent being sealing every possible exit and trapping the dragons inside their lair.

When Ronan heard of the mission, he asked to be among the volunteers. While reluctant, Dane agreed. Watching him prepare, Dane wondered whether his decision was right. Men with vengeance in their souls rarely make wise decisions. He hoped the mission was successful; failure would mean a horrid end for humanity. Turning his attention toward the mission, Alaric appeared with his crew of volunteers.

“Here are the men who pledged to follow me. Each man has his charges and we are prepared to leave, sir.”

Nodding, Alaric and his crew boarded the steamskiff and headed for the lair. Saying a silent prayer, Dane hoped, with assistance from the Maker himself, that all would return; that hope may prove to be a fool’s errand. As they set off, he tipped his hat to the volunteers.

“Good luck and Godspeed.”

The voyage took nearly three hours. Uneasy, the men remained silent. Dragons were a cruel lot and getting near enough to destroy them would require more luck than skill. No one wanted to die, but expected their few lives to be payment for saving scores of others. Landing about one hundred feet from the lair, Alaric and the volunteers disembarked and silently crept over to their destination. Ronan felt fear climb his spine the closer they were to the lair. Stopping, Alaric gave each man a copy of the map; each one had their assigned task.

“We may not come back alive, but know this; there is no greater sacrifice than to give one’s life in service for the protection of others. May God bless each every and every one. Let us be on our way, gentlemen!”

The men set off to their appointed task. Alaric kept Ronan by his side, to keep watch over him. He saw the intensity shining in his eyes and didn’t trust him on his own. Together, they climbed the rocky outcropping. Slipping here and there, but they pushed onward. Finally reaching their destination, the men stopped to catch their breath and their resolve. The smell of hellfire and brimstone swirled about the entrance, causing fear to rise up in Ronan. Trying not to vomit, Ronan took a deep breath to steady himself. Alaric watched him and hoped this young man didn’t get them both killed.

“Come on, laddie! We have an assignation with a scaly beasty!”

“Yes, sir, we do!”

Seeing the young man smile lessened Alaric’s concern. Quietly as possible, they crept inside. Afraid to draw attention to themselves, but left with no choice, Ronan lit a torch to ease their way through the darkness. Heat seemed to rise from the rocks as they pressed forward. Their ears rang from the ungodly sound of the dragons’ roar. Arriving at a rocky overhang, Alaric and Ronan were shocked at what occurred below them. There were three of them; the smallest of the three was being viciously attacked by the others. Savagely, the larger two tore at the smaller, scales and blood spattered the cave walls. Alarmed, Alaric whispered to Ronan that they should retreat and wait out the bloodletting.

“Are you sure? Will this retreat harm the mission?”

“Ronan, it is either retreat or risk being dragon fodder. Come on.”

As the men eased back from the precipice, a loud cry from one dragon dislodged the overhang. Alaric and Ronan screamed in terror as they fell. Hitting bottom, Ronan saw that Alaric was unconscious and trapped under a large boulder. The largest dragon didn’t spare them a glance; it continued to attack the smaller one. The other dragon decided Alaric and Ronan were on the menu.

         As the dragon advanced, Ronan tried to remove the boulder. Alaric groggily regained consciousness.

         “Run, boy! Continue the mission. We knew that this was suicide. Go now!”

         “NO!” was the defiant reply.

         Taking his sword out of its hilt, Ronan decided he would go down fighting. If I die, I die fighting, he thought. Taken aback, the sword again glowed with an intense blue. He felt some strange power surge within him. When the dragon was upon him, Ronan roared and sliced at the dragon. The blue light became a scythe-like object and sliced the dragon’s throat. Blood and fire seemed to fill the cavern as the dragon fell and writhed in agony. Ronan then attacked the larger dragon. This one was more skilled in battle and dodged the blue scythe. Unable to dodge the dragon’s claw, Ronan’s back suffered a horrendous rending of flesh. A curious thing happened; the dragon, seeing the blue lights, was transfixed. Unable to break contact with the sword, Ronan, with a surge of strength, managed to land the beast a fatal blow. Overwhelmed by pain, Ronan collapsed. Alaric awoke again to see the young man lying on the rocky floor with the smaller dragon standing over him.

         “Ronan.” Alaric fell unconscious once again.

         The smaller dragon looked at both men. Ambling over to Ronan, he bent down to sniff him. Taking a claw, he nudged Ronan, which elicited a moan of pain. A roar ricocheted throughout the cavern. The dragon decided not to feed, realizing that the human below had saved him. The sword had him transfixed, calmed somehow. Deciding to assist the humans, he used his claw to remove the boulder from atop Alaric, he swung the limp body atop his back. Grabbing Ronan as delicately as possible, the dragon took made his way to the cavern exit and took flight.

         “Captain, look! A beast is approaching!” yelled one of the crew.

         “Man your battle stations, men. The battle comes to us! Be ready to fire on my command!” Dane yelled at the top of his lungs. Spotting the ship, the dragon shifted with against the wind and made a beeline for the Keep. As the dragon drew closer, the man in the crow’s nest saw became frantic. He began waving his arms and screaming frantically.

         “Captain, don’t fire! Don’t fire! The beast has Ronan in his jaws!”

         All the men stopped, mesmerized by what they saw. The dragon, majestic in flight, flew in swiftly. His mighty amber, crimson and gold wings shimmered in the sun’s waning light slowed his descent and he executed a grand landing onto the deck. The ship rolled in protest, but the engine room managed to compensate for the dragon’s enormous bulk. He gently placed Ronan down, roaring.

         “Upon my soul, what be this? Since when does a dragon aid his dinner?”

         “Gentlemen, it appears we have a rather large guest onboard.” Dane said shakily. “Someone get Alaric off of the beasts’ back and get them both down to sickbay.”

         Moving quickly and carefully, the crew got Alaric down and got both men below deck. The dragon, acting as a sentinel, stood watch above deck. Dane was unsure as to what he should do.

         “Who would believe that young Ronan managed to win a dragon’s friendship or whatever you might want to call it? Dane said warily.

         Looking dead into the eyes of the captain, the dragon bent low and blew smoke into his face and growled menacingly. Dane was surprised. Did he understand me? With long, razor-sharp scales extending from his chin like a beard, the dragon stared down the captain. Dane didn’t flinch. Respecting the human’s nerve, the dragon blew out a breath, relaxed and sat on deck.

         “Ronan has made quite a friend here, hasn’t he?”

         “Quite a friend, indeed.” remarked Dane.

         For the next several hours, dragon acted as a sentinel, guarding the Keep and his new human friend. Ronan, patched and feeling much improved, came on deck. The dragon immediately sniffed and crept toward Ronan, the ship creaking in protest. With a loud roar, the dragon playfully nudged his friend, eliciting a laugh.

         “A pleasure to see you, also?” Ronan said cautiously.

         Huffing, the dragon bowed his head and again nudged Ronan. Placing a hand on the dragon’s enormous snout, the young man breathed a sigh of relief. Sensing the ease of tension, the dragon spread his wings and took flight. Instead of heading back to the lair, he flew alongside the keep, riding the winds of the merry blue.

         “So, we have a new crewmember, eh?”

         “That we do, captain. I saved his life and I guess he decided his odds of survival were best with me.” Ronan replied. “This sword, it froze the dragons somehow and I was able to slay them. It was incredible and scary. I’m not sure of the why, but the results are the same. Believe it or not, this one was the victim of an attack by two huge beasts. I guess him staying is his way of showing gratitude.”

         Rockland let out a hearty laugh and slapped the young man on his back. “Well, laddie, looks like we do indeed have a new mate!”

         The men, stunned and astounded, let out a cheer. The dragon, upon hearing the cheers, executed a flawless maneuver; diving down as if about to crash, the dragon then flew underneath and above the Keep.  He then continued flying beside them. Cheers erupted again from the crew. The dragon bobbed his head as if responding to the men. Ronan hobbled to the bow to gaze at his new companion.

         “I suspect we shall have quite an adventure, my mighty friend. Away into the blue we go then!”

         Dane smiled as he watched the two. Laughing, he realized he had the means to destroy the dragons’ threat and from quite an amazing source—a young man; a sword and a vengeful dragon Aye, what a cast of characters ye be! , he thought. There was a big battle looming and he felt it clear to his marrow. What part will these two play? Will the dragon turn on his brethren and aid them or will he incinerate them all? Until then, he prayed for an outcome that will save humanity.          

“To my fiery beastie and my young mate, Godspeed.”



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