Someone stronger

The hill was steep, its face a patchwork of loose stone and sharp angular outcrop. Sir Emphrey could make it, he was sure, but what about him. He gripped tight the leash.

Large nostrils sniffed at a few patches of stunted grass. Buck teeth snipped and chewed.

Steed, Emphrey's companion, twitched her ears and swished her tail. Her back was ladened with cloth baggage almost as large as she was. Here and there, metal glinted underneath.

Donkeys are supposed to be good climbers, Emphrey thought. Its steep, but they would have to try. Leaving all his equipment was out of the question.

As it turns out, Steed cleared the rocky path with ease, better even than Sir Emphrey. More than once, Emphrey was left on all fours clinging to the rockface like a tick, face buried as if sucking blood from stone.

His cracked fingernails scraped against the rock and dirt, muscles strained, sweat fell. Slowly, he inched upwards, and slowly, the world opened up, revealing a deep valley topped with a grey, lifeless sky.

Emphrey planted his feet and stretched out his spine as he surveyed the land. The cliffs to his left rose up, their bases pierced by piles of scree like jagged teeth. A dry riverbed, clogged with dirt, snaked through the valley below. The only life was a few more tufts of grass reaching up, begging for drops from a teasing sky. Perfect, he thought a satisfied smirk planted on his face.

Steed prodded some of the yellowing grass. Thinking better of it, she looked up to the clouds, almost resembling stacks of hay, tempting.

Emphrey nodded knowingly. ‘You sense it too, don’t you, Steed. Our journey’s end and our fearsome quarry both lie that way at the end of the valley.’

Silence. Molars chewed the empty air.

Emphrey smiled in sympathy. ‘I see how eager you are. How hungry. Let’s be off.’

After many hours of walking through the valley, the mountains closing in on both sides, they reached their goal. Where the two walls of mountain peaks finally met stood a castle, its petulant towers like clawing fingers, disobeying gravity.

If the old king was right, the princess should be in the highest tower. But if everything he said was true, it would not be easy to reach her. Emphrey eyed the large mound in front of the barbican gate with suspicion.

He loosened the baggage on Steed’s back and unpacked his armour. Its gold inlays shone even in the drab light of the valley. He remembered how excited he had been when the armourer had completed it. How he had run straight home to show his family. However, when his older brother saw it, he went red faced, buffed out his cheeks and berated Emphrey.

‘Why is it exactly the same as mine?’ he had said, demanding Emphrey melt it down.

That was typical of older brother, he remembered fondly. The greatest swordsman in the kingdom, but not too good on the detail. He failed to notice that his own breastplate had a knotted snake biting its tail, while Emphrey’s had two serpentine dragons, coiled in combat, clawing and biting. A very different motif.

What he would have given to have his older brother there scolding him at that moment, as he slipped on his clearly different helmet and gauntlets. He then patted Steed on the nose and took off the leash. ‘Be free my trusty Steed. I don’t doubt your bravery, but this last road I walk alone.’

Shield slung over shoulder and sword at his waist, Emphrey walked towards the castle. He could see the mound in front of the gate expand and contract rhythmically. Light reflected off its glossy surface, the highlights shifted and changed with each movement up and down.

Emphrey’s own lungs breathed deep and slow. Dust from the cracked and crumbling valley floor filled his nostrils and lined his throat. The weight of his armour pressed down on his shoulders and the visor of his helmet obscured his view.

Soon, he thought, he will throw off this armour, at least for a while. Trumpets will blow out and crowds cheer to welcome home their valiant hero. Ladies in fine patterned dresses will throw flowers at his feet. Knights will raise their swords, wearing brightly coloured emblems of stags, flowers, crowns and shields. Warm liquor and fine wine will flow, its sweet taste on his lips and filling his stomach. And a grateful princess will embrace him in thanks, and maybe even a kiss...

The years of squiring for his brother will finally bear fruit. In those days he would spend his time shining armour, the helmets as big as Emphrey’s entire torso. Or dragging buckets of food and water for proud horses. Or standing on stalls to clasp the buckles of brother’s breast and backplates. He would watch brother duel in mock fights or ride his horse with his lance held straight towards target or shield. Every morning, Emphrey would rise when the mist clung to the ground, and all others were in bed and swing his sword until hands were bloodied and blistered.

All of it was for this moment, he thought. Metal shifted and clattered as he rose his sword, pointing it forwards. ‘You, foul dragon, come and face me. From today, this kingdom will be free of your cruel acts of wickedness.’

A tail as long as a ship uncoiled in front of Emphrey and swung from side to side. Wings stretched out. At the far end, a giant head packed with sharp horns and teeth rose from the ground, its eyes half shut as they fell on Emphrey.

Hot breath like a desert breeze chased away the chill of the valley air, as a voice like a raging fire licked the air.

‘Another one,’ it bellowed, as it closed its eyes and lowered its head. ‘Today is not a good day for me. Come back another time.’

With his sword still pointing at the dragon’s tail, Sir Emphrey kept his ground. ‘Erm,’ he said. ‘I’m here to fight you?’

And adding as an afterthought, ‘Vile fiend?’

The earth shook as the massive bulk of the dragon turned. Emphrey dug his sword into the ground to stay steady. Front legs with dagger-sharp claws pawed the ground, before settling down. The giant’s head lowered again, its eyes trained down its long snout on Emphrey.

‘Look, I just dealt with some more of you yesterday,’ it said, waving its large paw dismissively. ‘Come back later, if you need to come back at all. Try two weeks on Tuesday.’

Emphrey had heard of the wily tricks of dragons but never about their busy schedule. ‘None of your tricks, dragon. I am here to defeat you, so defend yourself.’

The dragon scratched the two horns sticking out from its chin. ‘Do you know how many heroes and adventurers come here looking to fight me?’ It asked, and without waiting for a reply added, ‘You can’t expect me to fight them all.’

‘Now I see. You are weakened, aren’t you? You need time to heal from your wounds.’ Emphrey sheathed his sword. ‘I am not one to attack a helpless opponent that’s afraid to face me.’

‘Weakened? Afraid?’ the dragon snorted. ‘Bored would be the word or exasperated. Harassed and hassled by all these fools looking to make a name for themselves.’

The dragon nodded his head to what Emphrey had mistakenly thought was a pile of rubble. In fact, it was a pile of dented and torn armour, some partially melted. In between were rags of blackened leather and what looked like charred and broken bone.

Emphrey gulped and subconsciously took a step backwards.

The dragon took the cue and carried on. ‘The worst ones are like you; coming on their own expecting to cut me down with a sword smaller than my little toe. It’s insulting. At least when they come in a group, there’s something to think about.’

Rallying a little, Emphrey said, his voice a little strained, ‘Ah! So, a party can test even you. Human ingenuity and tactics can overcome even the greatest foes.’

‘Hardly,’ the dragon replied. ‘The only challenge is deciding what order to eat them. My preference is mage first. Swordmen have more meat. Best for last.’

Doubts had crept in through the gaps in Emphrey’s armour and started to reverberate. The thought of losing hadn’t crossed his mind before. And losing here might mean death. He squeezed the straps of his shield, drawing it closer to his body, and reached again for his sword’s hilt. Does brother ever feel like this?

‘If you are so unsatisfied, dragon, why don’t you just leave,’ Emphrey said, his voice shaking and higher pitched than usual. ‘Hand over the princess, and I will allow you to go.’

The dragon squinted. ‘Very kind of you, young knight. It’s tempting. When I was young, just like you are now, I once flew the world, visiting different places and eating new people. Unfortunately, that is behind me now. It is impossible for me to leave.’

'Why is that?’ Emphrey asked.

‘Because, I am a servant of the Demon Lord, and I have been ordered to stay. Not even I dare not disobey him.’

‘How did a dragon as powerful as you become a servant?’

‘Vanity, boy,’ the dragon said. ‘In my pride, I believed all would fall to me as they had always done in the past. Not so the Demon Lord. With a flick of his dark magic, black fingers of shadow crushed me in their grip. They squeezed and tightened, leaving me gasping for air.’

The dragon flicked a beaten-up helmet into the pile of armour. ‘Claws are no use if you can’t move your limbs. Fire breath can’t serve if you can’t breathe. He forced me to submit and acknowledge him the stronger. The greatest shame of my life.’

‘Knowing someone is better than you, it isn’t easy,’ Emphrey agreed. He awkwardly sat down and crossed his legs. ‘But just because you’re weaker now, doesn’t mean you have to stay that way.’

‘Silly human. You are either weak or strong. Nothing else,’ the dragon retorted.

‘You can change though, can’t you? You weren’t always a moving mountain, once you were small. Once you were an egg,’ Emphrey reasoned.

The dragon swished its tail along the ground, throwing up dust and stones. ‘No, I was never small and never an egg. Those things were from before, before I was myself.’

‘I don’t understand that. Don’t you remember being small?’ Emphrey said. ‘I do. I remember it clearly; how weak I was.’

‘Still are’ the dragon jabbed.

‘Thanks for that,’ Emphrey continued. ‘I am better than I was, and I will be even better tomorrow. I have always worked on being stronger, even when young. I remember once when I was a boy. My father and brother prepared to face a group of brigands.’

As Emphrey began to recount a tale from his youth, the dragon closed its eyes and rested its head on its front paws.

‘It was a cold day, the autumn rains in full swing, and in the hills the bandits were raiding merchants and farmers, stealing their cargo as they travelled. My father was preparing an expedition. I begged, I pleaded to go, but he wouldn’t have it. “You are too young and too inexperienced,” he would say. Maybe he was right, as I was barely five, but my brother, 10 years older, was to go, and I didn't want to be left behind. Even so, my father was resolute and would not allow it.

‘But I was determined. Thery had a few carts for carrying food and supplies on the road. I snuck in the back of one before they left, hiding under a course blanket between two barrels. It was several days later when they finally found me, trying to sneak some bread and dried fruit.

‘My father was furious, spittle flying and hands raised. I would feel the bruises for several days after. After that, they chained me up in one of the wagons, along with the spare swords, replacement shields and thick winter coats they had brought in case the weather turned colder.

‘I watched from on top a hill, sitting behind several guards, as my older brother led a charge into a group of bandits. My brother broke their line with ease, and with his sword, cut down one bandit after another. That’s when I knew, my brother was strong, and I wanted to be just like him.

‘My father had different ideas. When he returned to the camp, he came to me, armour still specked with blood, and said “You are not meant to be a soldier”. I protested pointing out that my brother led the charge, but all he would say in return was “Leading and fighting is his role, your role is to keep safe.’

‘And I was kept safe, for a while, protected behind castle walls. Long boring days, the only relief my studies or the occasional sword sparring. Until my younger brothers were born and my father decided I might be useful for something else. Then my role seemed to be servant, as I became my older brother’s squire. That’s how I learnt more about the sword and combat. That’s how I become stronger.’

‘Now,’ Emphrey stood up, wiping the dust from his clothes and armour. ‘Now, I am a knight in my own right. One that the king trusted to come on this dangerous errand.’

‘Interesting story, little human, but it has nothing to do with me.’

‘It does. You can learn too, can’t you? How did you learn to talk?’

‘The Demon Lord insisted I learn. Scorched a few of my teachers. The Demon Lord wasn’t happy with that.’

‘You see,’ Emphrey insisted, ignoring the reference to burnt teachers. ‘If you’re not strong enough to beat the Demon Lord now, keep learning until you are. You must have plenty of time. How long do dragon’s live anyway?’

‘Who knows, most are killed by their children.’

‘So, you can get stronger,’ Emphrey said. ‘As long as you avoid having children.’

The dragon made a noise like the mixture of a crackling fire and a hum. ‘You’ve convinced me. I’ll work on getting stronger. Thank you little human. I mean little knight,’ the dragon corrected itself.

‘Then let me give you your first lesson,’ Emphrey drew his sword. Remembering his past and why he had wanted to become a knight had rekindled Emphrey’s bravery and pushed aside any fear. Not even his brother had ever killed a dragon. ‘Shall we start our fight?’

The dragon on the other hand was even less inclined to fight. ‘Don’t be a fool,’ it said. ‘You are still no match for me.’

‘My mind is made up. I still wish to surpass my limits too. I will test myself against you. Get ready.’

The dragon straightened its legs and lifted its body off the ground. A deeper shadow, deeper than the natural gloom of the valley, enveloped Emphrey. Eyes peered down on him from 30 metres in the air.

‘Very well,’ the dragon said. ‘Incidentally, if you had a choice, how would you like to die.’

‘I am a knight. As long as I have my sword, in my hand, it doesn’t matter how I meet my end.’

The dragon shifted his great weight to the pile of weapons and armour. He rummaged through it, occasionally tossing away piles of breastplates, helmets and axes, before picking up a two-handed great sword.

He carefully pinched the hilt between his thumb and finger and brought the blade down to around the height of Emphrey. In the dragon’s hands, the sword looked no more than a needle, and the way the beast carefully held the hilt resembled a tailor preparing to thread its eye.

‘I am ready. But if I disarm you, then you must agree to surrender to me and accept any fate I choose for you.’

Emphrey agreed and charged forward. Before he had a chance to close the gap, the dragon swung the great sword at him. Emphrey raised his sword to parry the strike, planting his feet into the ground.

The blade struck with force. Emphrey’s muscles strained and buckled as he felt himself thrown backward. Sky and ground tumbled in front of Emphrey's eyes. He felt the scrap of rock against his skin as he flipped and rolled across the ground.

Emphrey tried to pick himself up off the ground but couldn’t get his legs to move. He tried his arms next. They screeched in pain, but he felt them move. He still felt the hilt in his right hand but when he brought his hand in front of his face, he saw the blade was broken. He threw it away.

His vision was blurry, but he could see his own backside was on the ground, blood spilling over his breeches. The bigger problem, however, was that it was over 50 metres in front of him. His eyes flickered from his torso to his legs in front of him and the bloody sword in the dragon’s hand. He tried to speak but could only manage a breathless ‘oh’ as blood flowed out of his mouth.

The dragon let his great sword drop to the ground. ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ it said. ‘I tried to be as gentle as possible, but I couldn’t control my own strength.’

Emphrey’s vision darkened and his limbs, the ones still attached, got colder. As his consciousness began to fade, he heard one final thing.

‘Thank you again for your advice. I’m sure to give it some thought.’ And after a short pause ‘Your death too. Important lesson there as well, I think.’