Golden Princess

 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Ritter stepped outside wearing a fresh tabard, and most of the grime from his days of confinement was scraped off his face and hands. His kidnapper walked beside him.

Both were smiling.

Wellorg, the massive dragon queen sniffed the air and stiffened. The bandits' twenty dragons surrounded her, bowing and cooing their greetings to the green and black queen. A few of the larger blue dragons were starting to posture and nip each other to showoff their worth as possible mates. If she stayed around any longer, they would start fighting in earnest.

"Like I said, she is huge, powerful, and more dangerous than you'll ever know," Ritter said, still smiling. "She will happily slaughter everyone - man and dragon - you see here if this goes sideways."

"You're just trying to save your own skin," Morgan, his captor-turned-reluctant-ally, said.

"You bet I am," Ritter said. "Just do what I said, and we might survive this."

"Ritter," Wellorg growled, silencing her admirers. "Ritter," she said again, nostrils wide, eyes slitted. "Thief."

She began moving toward him, carelessly bumping aside the bandits' smaller dragons. Two of the biggest blue males followed her, still not giving up on a chance to impress. Her own retinue of dragons remained aloof but watchful atop the castle walls.

"You owe me something," she said, exhaling loudly and sending a mist of acid from each nostril. Two rings of grass sizzled and smoked where the mist landed.

Droth trotted alongside her, but he didn't try to control her. Maybe he couldn't.

"My queen," Ritter said, bowing low. "You are lovely as always."

Wellorg walked up to him and bumped his chest with her massive head. He smelled the eye-watering odor of fresh acid. The blues behind her growled and jostled each other.

"Where is it?" She bumped him again.

"My lady," Droth said, rubbing her throat. "He is not worth your aggravation."

"Where is it?" She growled deep in her chest. "Or should I start disassembling this place?" The blues bugled encouragement. Their blood was up now. Her retinue on the wall bugled and spread their leather wings in agitation. The bandit's other dragons stirred and growled.

"My beloved queen," Ritter began. "To save the lives of many, I gave it away."

Wellorg stomped one front foot, digging her dagger-sized claws into the ground and throwing a spray of dirt and rocks on the randy blues behind her. The blues followed her example, sending their own sprays of dirt back toward the main cluster of watching dragons.

"Where is it now?" Her roar rattled Ritter's teeth.

Morgan clasped his hands until the knuckles were white. His voice almost cracked as he said, "To save the lives of many, I sold it."

Wellorg roared and tossed her head. Droth, Ritter, and Morgan stepped back. More dirt flew. Acid sprayed from her nostrils. The blues bit at each other, circling and snapping as the queen's chaos began to take hold.

Ritter opened his haversack and held up a stack of small vellum pages. Some were covered in black cat hair. "These will save many lives, my queen. For these, I have earned your displeasure."

Wellorg stopped. "And what are these...things that are so important?" The grass sizzled and smoked around them. Her red eyes were blazing. A forked tongue whipped out to taste the air.

"These are spells to heal the outpost." Ritter nodded toward Morgan. "Given to me by our gracious host. Even though he was starving along with his friends, he wanted to help."

Wellorg looked at Droth. "I smell a lie."

"My lady," Droth said, nodding. "It is always possible. Ritter is uncouth, unpolished, and frequently drunk."

"Thanks, pal," Ritter muttered.

"But he is of the Jirrah, like me. I ask you to see his heart."

The blues had had enough. They started fighting for real: claws, blood, fire, acid, screams. Her retinue took off and dropped into the fight. Some of the bandit's dragons took to the air, circling and howling dismay. Others starting fighting amongst themselves and the blues and the retinue.

Wellorg roared. Windows exploded. People fell to the ground clutching their heads. Flying dragons scattered. Those fighting on the ground stopped, their scaled, bloody chests heaving.

"You will show good order," she bellowed in Old Speech. Ritter did not understand it, but the dragons did.

Her red eyes slitted again, and she turned them toward Ritter. "Tell me your lie, and I will decide this matter of your heart."

Ritter brandished the stack of pages. "My queen, these are spells we need to cure the plague ravaging the outpost." This was true, Ritter thought. If he could stay near the edges of the truth, he might survive the day.

"After some negotiation," Ritter continued, "My gracious host agreed to give me the pages."

"And my daughter's golden scale was his price?"

Ritter nodded. "While it was my most prized possession, and given freely by my princess's own hand, my honor would not allow me to leave his starving friends empty-handed." Inside, Ritter winced at the lie. Still, it might have worked out this way if Ritter had not been captured.

Wellorg cut her eyes toward Droth. "Is this a good lie?"

Droth nodded. "It is a tale worthy of your consideration. Some might even be true."

"Remind me to stop liking you," Ritter muttered to Droth.

Wellorg took a deep breath. "So be it." She bumped Ritter on the chest hard enough to send him stumbling back. "Now, let's see if these blues want to play." She turned toward the bloody blue dragons and swished her tail seductively. With a single powerful lunge, she was in the sky, and the blues were winging after her.

"By the ancestors, that was close," Morgan said.

Ritter rose and punched the bandit in the stomach. "That's for your poor manners. If we meet again, walk the other way."

Ritter turned toward Droth and said. "You are a genius. I hate you."

"Let's go home," Droth said.

Ritter handed the healing spells to Droth. "Home can wait. I'm going to visit my golden princess while mommy's busy being naughty with the blues. Maybe I can sweet talk her out of another scale."

///

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