The Knight of the Ring
1
Sir Pursuivant sighed as he looked out over his land from the rampart of the stone pile he called a castle. He had built it with his own hands, with the help of an architect, from stones he had chiseled with mighty blows from a hammer on a drill. He patrolled his lands, paid his taxes, and generally kept his business to himself as much as possible.
Once he had roamed the world, seeing wonders and battling monsters. Now he was content to stay home and enjoy the fruits of his labor.
Now and again someone asked to pay a visit to ask his aid in a quest. He generally turned them down as politely as possible. His wandering days were over, and anything beyond his own reach was beyond his interest.
Riders trotted toward his open gates. They bore bad news. He could see it in their faces even though they were specks on the road leading to his castle. The knight thought about closing his doors to them.
He hoped their problem was just a request for lodging for the night.
"Brian!" Sir Pursuivant turned from the rampart. "Get my armor and horse ready."
A footman saluted and broke from the guards sharing the wall's walkway. He started down at a run, ahead of the knight's walk. The grooms in the stable would have his stately Malcolm ready when he had heard his visitors out. He wanted to stay home, but felt that his next quest had presented itself at his door.
How many more would need his help?
"Tell Cook we have visitors and to make sure there is enough food at the table for them." A scullery maid rushed off at his words after placing her cleaning bucket and scrub brush out of the way.
The foot men and knights checked their arms and equipment as word of riders spread. There had already been several sieges of the castle which had been broken with their will and force of arms. Pursuivant had killed hordes of knights with tireless strokes from his sword arm. His vassals had worked tirelessly in his wake to add their own tally to the death toll before the enemy broke and fled.
Sir Pursuivant gave quarter where asked, killed any who fought on after losing. Those he spared were marked and their weapons and armor seized. The brand was to remind them the next time there would be no mercy.
The knight walked into the central hall at the base of his tower. Tables were already being pulled out to the center of the room. A chest for swords already sat by the door. Only his army was allowed to go armed in his inner sanctum. Visitors could give up their arms, or leave.
And if they didn't like those two options, Pursuivant tended to take a personal hand in things.
Pursuivant turned and headed for the stables to check on Malcolm. Foot men were already drawing straws for wall duty. If the visitors got out of hand, these men would have to lead the charge from their places on the walls surrounding the eating area. The other men would eat at tables on either side of where the strangers were seated. So there would be a space between the riders and the defenders where a simple killing of all of his retainers could not happen if the weapons were checked.
Or even if they weren't.
Malcolm neighed when he saw the knight coming along the central court to the wood and stone barn. Grooms had fitted most of the light armor to his back. Brian stood to one side, working on the lord's armor with a cloth.
"Leave off the bit and headpiece until I know what's going on." Pursuivant patted Malcolm's head with a light hand, rubbing his mane. The horse stamped the packed earth in his stall.
"Yes, my lord." Brian saluted.
The knight went to the head stabler, a blocky man named Kerwin. He ordered that the visitor horses would be taken care of and allowed to roam the largest corral behind the stables. Kerwin nodded, began giving orders to his juniors.
Sir Pursuivant turned to return to his lookout. He counseled patience to himself as he walked up the stone stairs. Soon he would have to use the powers given him by the ring he had assembled. He could wait that precious time.
2
Sir Pursuivant nodded as a runner from the kitchen reported that everything was ready to feed a large party. The ringbearer told the runner to make sure the central tables were ready for the party of calvary he had been watching for hours with the remarkable vision the ring gave him. Everyone should be on guard for trouble.
Using hospitality to gain access to a castle's inner sanctum was nothing new.
Sir Pursuivant went down to the courtyard to meet his visitors in person, checking his own men and the defenses as he went. Everyone was ready, but confident that no one would get pass Pursuivant's sword. They had seen it flash too many times to doubt that he couldn't cut men in full armor down like a farmer slicing wheat.
"Hail, Sir Pursuivant," called the lead rider, clad in armor, lance down in its boot. "I come with a message from King Edward."
"Have your men dismount." Pursuivant frowned at the small party. "We'll talk about this in my study. Dinner will be served for your party in the meantime."
"The king expects you to immediately act upon his orders." The lead rider looked down at the knight of the ring.
"I expect you to dismount, or be dismounted." Weapons readied for action as Sir Pursuivant stood with his arms crossed. "After that, I will decide what to do about the king's orders."
The cold glimmer in Pursuivant's eyes told the other knight that it would be better to carry out his duty than have someone cut him down with an arrow. He dismounted smoothly from his horse. The rest of the riders followed suit with a clashing of metal, and heavy thumps.
"Sir Gareth, take these companions to the dining hall, then show them quarters near the wall." Sir Pursuivant nodded to one of his men, stout and built like a bear. "Their master will accompany them after we have talked."
"You are to put your resources under my command, or I will have you declared a traitor." The other knight glared at his host. "The king's word is law."
"I will hear the message, and I will deal with the request in my own way." Sir Pursuivant gestured for the other man to proceed him. "At no time will I accept your commands. If you wish to outlaw me, that's fine. Walk or leave."
"Who do you think you are?" The messenger colored, reaching for his sword. His retainers held up their hands as all the armed men around them tensed. "I refuse to be treated like a fool by a rude bumpkin."
"Draw steel, and no one will find your body except foxes, and crows." Sir Pursuivant waited a few brief seconds before making another sweep of his arm. "My study awaits."
The knight's study was a little room at the base of the central tower just off the dining hall. Candles were lit by a maid who quickly left as the two men entered the room. One of Pursuivant's men snapped in front of the door to hold it against any intrusion until the ringbearer finished.
"Relay your message." Sir Pursuivant went to stand beside the fireplace. Dead at the moment, it would be brought back to life when he settled in to look at his books.
"I don't understand why you are being so rude." The younger knight frowned at the older man standing across the room. "The king had many good things to say about you."
"My reasons are my reasons." Sir Pursuivant gestured with a roll of his hand. "They have nothing to do with your message. What does Edward want?"
"His majesty requires that you look into a matter in the south. There has been talk of witches and dragons." The messenger shrugged. "I think it's a tale told by idiots, but the king is taking the matter seriously as far as I could tell when I was ordered here."
"Tell Edward I will look into it." Pursuivant looked into the fireplace. "Hopefully I will have things in hand in a few days time."
"Is it that easy to kill a dragon?" The messenger smiled.
"I have killed many things, probably more than any hunter, knight, or footman." Sir Pursuivant gestured for the other man to proceed out the door. "It's no trick once you know how."
"When will you leave?" The other knight opened the door, startled by the foot man stepping back against the wall on one side of the door to let him pass.
"As soon as I check on my horse." Pursuivant gestured for the messenger to have a seat with his own riders. "You have a long ride back to court. Eat, rest, go home tomorrow."
The ringbearer strode into the kitchen to use the servant's door to walk to the stables to load Malcolm.
3
Sir Pursuivant paused to let Malcolm crop the grass on the side of the road as he looked around him. He had been traveling south for several days on horseback, listening to others he had found on the road. Tales of witchcraft crossed everyone's lips coming from the direction of his travel.
So far he hadn't heard anything that impressed him.
Sir Pursuivant had traveled the world, battled monsters and mad men. Someone saying a tree grew in an absurd shape didn't strike him as very dangerous.
The knight urged his horse forward. He had another day in the saddle before he was close to where he could begin his fact finding mission. It was certainly obvious why he had been ordered to come down and look around. Something was going on and Edward was afraid to send someone who wouldn't know a real witch from a hole in the ground.
Pursuivant could do that at least, if nothing else.
The knight rode along the dirt road, letting his mind wander as he thought. The abilities given him by the ring kept him on the alert despite his almost sleeping appearance. It made him look like less of a threat to those who didn't know him.
That was a costly mistake for anyone accosting him.
Pursuivant spotted a village in the distance. If he hurried, he might ride there before the sun went down. Maybe he could get a lead on this witchery business. So far he had only heard stories with no source. He couldn't hack the evil down if he couldn't find the evil.
Of course, the idea of someone else's cooking appealed to him.
Pursuivant was a man of many talents, but cooking was not one of them.
The knight urged his horse on, drawing him out of his leisurely cropping of the nearby vegetation. He kept an eye out for anyone on the trail as he rode. Malcolm would stomp a man down by accident if he wasn't careful. The miles passed in a cloud of sweat as the wanderer slowed on the hill above the village.
Pursuivant looked down on the collection of huts with their fields of growing things. A stable marked one of the buildings as a smith, or inn. He was inclined to believe that it was an inn. The sun was going down so if he hurried maybe he would be in time for dinner.
He kicked Malcolm forward, riding down slowly. He didn't want people to panic and run when he needed them to at least gossip to him. How else could he track down the source of the problem if everyone was too scared to talk to him?
That was something Edward's courtiers wouldn't understand. They wanted to browbeat the commoners into telling them anything they wanted to know. Cutting a man down for not speaking fast enough was common. That didn't incur trust from people you were supposed to be helping.
Pursuivant looked things over from close up, not liking the way everyone seemed to hide from him. He could feel their eyes, their curiosity. None came out in the street. That was probably being cautious.
He couldn't blame them.
A lone knight on the road could mean anything. Where was his squire? Where were his footmen? Where did he get such an ugly horse? What did he want?
Pursuivant stopped in front of the building he thought of as a hostler, or smith. He found that it was an inn, and he was just in time for dinner.
The knight slid to the ground, clapping Malcolm on the back. The horse nodded that it would wait for him. They had been together through his extended traveling and the equine had been a good companion. The chestnut started cropping the grass quietly.
Pursuivant stepped inside the inn, pleased that light drifted in through the windows. The locals turned away from him. No reason to speak to an outsider. The knight went to the counter, armor jangling. His helmet hung at his belt, ready to be put on if he needed it.
He doubted that there was much danger in the men in the room unless he was a cup of ale.
"Innkeep, I would like to buy some dinner and some ale, please." Pursuivant didn't see any reason not to state what he wanted. The man behind the counter frowned at him. This was where he would have to exert himself. He could tell it from the way the man tried to size him up.
"I'm sorry, sir." The inn keep spread his hands. "We're all out. A few minutes earlier and we would have had something for you."
"Really?" Pursuivant looked around the room. Everyone was sizing up what he could do to them. Even a man in armor could be overwhelmed by plenty of men willing to risk it. The knight was more than a man in armor thanks to his ring.
Pursuivant picked the nearest man up and slung him through a window. The rest stood, some heading for the door, some heading for him. Those that ran for the door went to their houses whole and unharmed.
The knight waited, letting the men run toward him. His skin was harder than the chainmail he wore. His strength was that of a hundred men. He didn't even feel the need to pull his sword.
The villagers thought they could mob the knight with their cups and daggers. Instead he began hurling them around the room. Furniture and food flew as men crashed through tables and benches as the knight waited. A couple needed to be kicked in the head to make sure they didn't get back up.
"Now, Innkeep." Pursuivant glared at his reluctant host. "I want food and drink, or I will be angry. So far I have been happy to play fun and games with you, but keep testing me, I will have to start making an example of someone. Am I understood?"
The innkeeper looked at his ruined common room with something like grief before heading to the kitchen. Pursuivant followed, not wanting anything extra added to his food. Sometimes people forgot what they had just seen was a warning.
"The food best be good after the trouble I went through." Pursuivant smiled slightly.
4
Sir Pursuivant had a table and a bench to himself. He had righted the table and bench after kicking a man that had been slammed on the hard wood top and then knocked the seat over on the way to the dirt floor. He put his plate of food on the table, chewing and drinking to show he didn't have hard feelings for what had just happened.
Of course, after the beating he had given out, maybe someone would tell him about what was going on in the county.
"So Innkeeper, why turn away a traveling knight?" Sir Pursuivant looked at the man while he ate. He sensed evasion warring with something like the desire to be honest. "Surely you didn't think I wouldn't pay for my food."
"Strangers have been nothing but trouble the last few days." The Innkeeper looked away. "We have enough problems without more from people who don't live here."
"They're coming from the south?" The knight enjoyed his plate of food. "I saw travelers on the road here."
"That's right." The Innkeeper nodded. "They yell that a witch, or dragon, has been burning the villages."
"A witch, or a dragon?" Sir Pursuivant raised his eyebrows. "That doesn't seem likely, does it?"
"They can't seem to agree what was happening." The Innkeeper shrugged. "They were all scared. And scared people are nothing but trouble."
"I understand that." Sir Pursuivant pushed the empty plate away. "Where were this dragon and witch?"
"About three days south of here." The Innkeeper pointed without thinking. "It's a place called St. Mary's."
"Thank you." Sir Pursuivant placed a coin on the table. "I'll go talk to whomever's still there and see what's going on."
The knight pushed away from the table, heading for the door to the end. He pushed one of the men out of his way with his foot. Malcolm neighed when he saw his master come out of the building. The horse tossed his mane slightly.
"I know." Pursuivant smiled. "I'll get you some oats."
The knight walked to where a manger sat beside the inn. A supply of oats sat in a bin next to one of the stalls. He loaded up a feed bag and strapped it on the horse's muzzle. Malcolm chewed the contents quietly as the knight led him along the street.
"We have a little way more to go." Sir Pursuivant patted Malcolm on the neck. "I don't like this description of what's going on. A dragon, or a witch, is terrorizing the region. I guess the king's liegemen were the first people she, or it, dealt with. No wonder the king sent for us."
Malcolm exhausted the feed, tossing his head. The knight walked him along, unstrapping the feed bag. The horse started cropping the grass as they went. The knight smiled as he led his horse along.
Malcolm was easier to deal with than people in Pursuivant's experience.
"Let's go." Pursuivant swung up in the saddle. "We have three days of riding ahead of us."
Malcolm neighed disapprovingly.
"This won't be as bad as the yellow men." Sir Pursuivant kicked his horse into a trot. "After all the Monkey King isn't here."
The horse nodded in agreement. That fact made everything better in his eyes. The Monkey King was annoying beyond everything else he had seen in his wandering life.
"We're going south and find out which is which." Pursuivant looked around as he rode. "I'm hoping for a witch. They are easier to deal with than a dragon."
Malcolm snorted, shaking his head.
"I promise if it is a dragon, I will not let it eat you." Pursuivant watched the forest, smiling lightly. "You are my friend after all."
The wanderers headed down the dirt road marked by wagon wheels that had come from their destination. The night came on as Sir Pursuivant found a spot to rest Malcolm. The horse neighed happily as the knight wrapped himself in a blanket for the night.
Sir Pursuivant listened to the night, wandering what the next day would bring. He had an idea that he would be meeting this dragon, or witch, sooner than three days. He would have to think about how to deal with the problem in case his sword didn't work.
Neither witches nor dragons were known for peaceful solutions.
The knight hoped for better than bloodshed to deal with his problem.
5
The three days passed slowly for Sir Pursuivant as he rode Malcolm south. He passed several working farms, and many more burnt or ruined by some crop disease. He listened to the farmers before moving on.
Some people said a witch. Some said a dragon. To the knight, it was looking like both were in play.
And Sir Pursuivant hoped that wasn't the case. One type of menace, or the other, was all that he wanted to deal with for the king.
The knight had been traveling too long. His oath to the king was in name only. At no point did he give any support for anything outside of the kingdom's borders. He wouldn't have ridden down to find out what was going on except he knew that eventually his own lands would be affected by the rumors swirling around.
He had enough to do without beating down peasants too scared to farm the land.
Sir Pursuivant looked across the distance with his ring when he reached a crossroads. He noted more damage still to the south. If he kept going, he was bound to run into whatever was causing this. There was a certain amount of ego involved with the amount of damage he observed.
Make your point, and hold your own space. Don't keep spreading the misery around.
Sir Pursuivant shook his head, kicking Malcolm forward. He felt the fear drift off the big horse. The steed was sensing something ahead he didn't want to face. The knight silently agreed, but urged him forward anyway.
It was better to do your job as well as you could than explain why you didn't.
Sir Pursuivant pulled Malcolm to a stop when he saw a manor house rising in the middle of the devastation. He shook his head. He should have expected that. When did the soldiers appear to escort him to see the lady of the land? An ego that big would have forces to enforce its will on the neighbors. He let his vision drop, figuring the distance in his head. A day more riding should do it.
The knight started looking for a place to stop for the night. He frowned at the lack of trees, or even standing structures. That was a side effect of the destruction he had already noted. That meant he would be sleeping in the open that night.
Sir Pursuivant patted Malcolm on the neck as he headed for what looked like a cellar in the ground. The walls of the house had been burnt away. The knight dismounted, looking around. He didn't see, or feel anything, within riding distance.
That took a lot of work.
The knight fed Malcolm with food from their supplies. He was sure the horse wouldn't eat the charred grass around them. Scarred hands pulled the saddle and armor off, combed the chestnut down, and then turned him out to wander where he wanted in the wasteland.
Pursuivant knew that wouldn't be far. They had been partners for a long time. The horse would never go far as long as the knight was still alive and fighting. And the chestnut also knew his rider would protect him from any danger.
Pursuivant patted the ugly head one more time before setting up a camp in the cellar. A small fire would be blocked from view by the walls. But he knew that wasn't going to help.
Anything that had hunted all the animals in the surrounding countryside could be expected to know a rider and horse was moving across the barren land.
"Ego." Pursuivant made his bed, cooked a small dinner, and settled in for the night. He let sleep come as he willed part of himself to keep watch while he rested. The ring allowed him that much of an advantage.
He dreamed of a spreading wasteland ripping the country apart. Families fled across the ocean to France as their homes became ashes floating in the wind. Animals died as they caught fire, touched by darkness.
The ring appeared before Pursuivant's eyes. It glittered at him. He told the image that he was going to stop whatever was going on. He made it a vow. The dream ended as the sun came up.
Pursuivant did his morning absolutions before cooking a breakfast smaller than the dinner from the night before. He covered the fire when he was done. Malcolm neighed, stamped his hoof. The horse was ready to get back on the road. A handful of oats allowed the knight to put the saddle and protective covering back on so they could get back on the road.
Pursuivant settled into his saddle, pointed Malcolm toward the mansion beyond the horizon. He gave a little cluck and let the horse have his head. His steed would go as fast as he wanted toward their goal.
Pursuivant let his vision roam the land, keeping an eye out for guardians. Sooner or later, someone would come for him. Hopefully he would spot them long before he was spotted. At least he would know what he was dealing with instead of a constant nagging feeling. He didn't bother considering that he was going to surprise the owner of the mansion.
He was riding through the beginning of a desert like he had seen on his travels. And you could see for miles across such a place.
6
Sir Pursuivant let Malcolm walk the last few miles to the strange manor house. He might need the horse to run with his full wind. Galloping him up to the front door of the place he was going to meet his enemy was a bad idea.
He looked the place over. He frowned at the lack of servants, livestock, or even living wild animals in the vicinity. That smacked a little of the sorcery he had encountered in other places.
The easiest thing to do to get to the heart of the matter was knock on the door. The owner had to be expecting him. He might as well announce himself and get the first part of this over with.
In his experience, there were three parts to any battle. The first part was the testing of mettle to see who had obvious weaknesses to be exploited. The second part was the dealing of blows to see who could hurt the other the most. Then the last part was the weaker enemy retreating, or dying on the field, and the recovery of the stronger fighter and whatever he had gained.
He hoped this witch had an obvious weakness he could exploit. Otherwise, this was going to be a short battle from his perspective.
Sir Pursuivant dismounted, wincing at the crash of metal when he hit the ground. He walked up the three steps to a broad wooden door set in a stone wall. He decided to be polite and knocked gently on the door's face. No need to knock it down if he didn't have to yet.
He waited, but no one came at his knock. He knocked again a little harder. He restrained himself from bashing in the wooden planks with his fist.
"Who's there?" The voice drifted down from a narrow window on the second story of the domicile. Pursuivant stepped back from the door, looking up, looking with his strange vision. He was not reassured by the semblance of an innocent maid looking down on him.
Her thoughts reached him as hunger and malice. They betrayed the mask she wore to cover whatever horror was underneath.
"I'm here on the king's business, madam." Sir Pursuivant smiled to mask his own feelings. "I was wondering if you knew what is going on in this region."
"Nothing as far as I know." The maid shrugged. "This is quite the boring place."
"Where are your neighbors then?" The knight let the lie pass. He was looking for openings, not looking to engage the enemy at full tilt.
And she was the enemy. He was sure of that above anything else.
"They all moved away." The maid laughed like running water. "They actually said the land is cursed because of the mound nearby. I told them there's nothing wrong. None of them believed me."
"What kind of mound is this?" The knight thought that was the only true thing she had said so far. "Can you show me?"
"I suppose." The maid looked thoughtful. He could believe she was measuring him for a larder somewhere. "It's not too far away from here."
"I'll wait for you to come down." Sir Pursuivant stepped further back from the manor house. "I would like to make up my mind myself about this mound. If it is a threat, I will have to have it torn down because of its nature."
"I'll be right down, but I assure you it's just some stones piled together." The maid vanished from the window with a quick pulling away of her head. She opened the door a few moments later. She smiled at the taller knight.
Sir Pursuivant nodded to her, wondering how many others she had killed with whatever duplicity she had carried out before he arrived.
"This way, sir knight." The maid indicated the way with a wave of her hand. "It's a short ride if you want to take your horse."
"Malcolm can wait here, madam." Sir Pursuivant waited for her to start walking. "He's not friendly to strangers."
"I understand completely." The maid set out, walking at a fast pace toward the standing trees at the edge of the grasslands the knight had noticed but thought nothing of beyond that was the marker on the edge of the weird influence on the land he had already noted.
Sir Pursuivant noted it was farther south from the manor house.
He wondered if he had interrupted something in the making. Why would she build her manor house where it was if the mound was still to the south of the house? He had no doubts something strange was going on. A place like that in the middle of the worst area in the country he had ever seen for hunting and farming had to be a problem to put up in the first place, and then the desertion of people would have stopped building in the middle of things.
That was something he had seen in other places during his travels.
He would have to wait for his answers until he reached this mound. Then either he would know, or not care, depending on what happened.
7
Sir Pursuivant let his vision range ahead, sure that he and the maiden were alone on their trek to this mysterious mound. He saw it clearly sticking out of the ground once he decided to look for it. It resembled ruins left by other conquerors of England since time out of mind.
Soon enough, he was looking at it in person and frowning at the markings he saw around the edges of the rock structure. The thing had been sitting there a long time from the looks of it. And something watched inside, waiting for something to happen.
He could feel the attention diverted to their presence in the vicinity.
The mound had a guardian inside watching for intruders to open it.
"I told you it was just some old stones." The maiden climbed on the center of the oval, spreading her arms out. "I don't know what everyone is afraid of."
"Let's not jest with each other." Sir Pursuivant hooked his thumbs in his belt. "We both know the people were afraid of you. Why did you really bring me out to this harmless mound?"
"I brought you out here to kill you and rend your body into something I can use." The maiden's face looked a bit older now, eyes glowing scarlet, hair coming undone from her long braiding in a wild cloud. "I am in need of a protector that will defend me tirelessly."
The knight shook his head, frowning at the gathering display.
"I'm here on the King's business." Sir Pursuivant kept his voice as gentle as he could. "Nothing you do to me will affect what happens if I don't return. Eventually someone will arrive to put you down. It would be better for all those concerned if you turned yourself into the crown as a witch and be sentenced to a nunnery. I think I can ask for that without any problem."
"By the time anyone arrives to ask what happened to you, I will have expanded my reach tenfold." The maiden grinned down at the knight. "No one will be able to stop me."
"That's a big plan to carry out by yourself, madam witch." The knight waited, knowing he was still in the first part of the battle, the talking and probing part.
The second part would start soon enough. He could feel it like the calm before a storm. The question was could he handle it, even with the power of the ring at his command?
"And I have big help to carry it." The maiden's suddenly dry skin broke open in a cloud like thrown feathers. Scales erupted into a winged bipedal lizard with a long neck and a triangular head that still resembled the woman it could have been. "I think we have talked enough, Sir Knight."
"I guess so." Sir Pursuivant felt his skin harden as he stepped back. He had hoped that things would work out peacefully enough. He should have known better. After all, no one wanted to admit they had done wrong. That went back to Cain and Abel.
Blue flames rushed at the ringbearer. He stepped to the side, letting his cloak drop to the ground. He didn't want to have it catch on fire while he was wearing it. It had served him well for many years. It would serve many more if he could help it.
Flames spun around the knight as he moved just to the left, just to the right. He was content to work his way closer so he could get a grip. That should allow him to do something with the strength the ring gave him.
The dragon dropped down in front of him, three fingered fists slamming on the ground. The earth blasted at him in a wave. He leaped over the blinding cloud, landing lightly within arm's reach of the magical lizard.
The transformed maiden grabbed him and pulled him close to take a bite with jaw extended wide enough to take his head in her mouth. This was her best chance of dealing with the knight. Then she could plan for her next visitors.
Fingers grabbed her snout. She pressed down with the intention of snapping her jaws shut on this irritation. If that didn't work, she planned to use her fire to deal with the nuisance. Her mouth closed with a snap. Arms wrapped around the muzzle to hold the maw shut.
The lady dragon swept her head one side, then the other. Pursuivant's hands slipped on the smooth scales. He flew across the clearing, landing on his back. The knight rolled as flame cut across the ground. A grimace marked that he felt the heat, but his ring protected him for the moment.
He couldn't expect that to last.
Pursuivant jumped to his feet, sliding to the left. More fire cut through the space where he had stood. The dragon jumped, landing on the knight, claws biting into his armor and the armored skin underneath. The knight gritted his teeth so he wouldn't let out a groan.
The dragon reached down to break his neck with her teeth. Once that was done, she could do what she wanted with his remains. The knight kicked with both feet. The blow landed in the long gut above him. The lizard lady flipped over his head, landing on her back.
Pursuivant jumped up again, ignoring the pain in his shoulders. It would fade after this was over. He just had to win.
The dragon circled, looking for an opening. This one was a lot harder than the rest she had killed. There was something about him that spoke of magic. Even his skin seemed different from when he had first knocked on her door. She could figure that out later after she had gutted him. She just had to win.
She would win.
She charged forward, hoping to bite him again. Maybe if she clamped down and held him tighter, she could bite chunks out of that skin. Then she could take him apart piece by piece. She needed to grab him to hold him.
Pursuivant jumped forward, avoiding the teeth. His arms clamped down on the neck, hands locking together, and he didn't let go. He squeezed with all of his strength, holding on as her exhalations came faster and faster, shorter and shorter. They fell to the ground, rolling around. He felt bones break under his iron skin, but he didn't let go.
Finally she stopped breathing all together.
The dragon body flew apart, scales becoming glittering light that drifted to nothing. The maiden looked out again, became a crone, then whispered away just like the dragon before her. Sir Pursuivant stood up, clapping the dust off his tabard and mail with little moves of his hands.
Sir Pursuivant looked around, marking the site. He hoped no one else would find the mound. On the other hand, it wasn't his problem and would release more trouble than it was worth if he just smashed it apart.
It was better to let things lie. The future would take care of itself.
The knight walked out of the trees. He headed for where he had left Malcolm. His ribs snapped back in place as he walked. The ring protected its owner to the best of its ability. Sometimes that was enough.
Malcolm called a greeting when he saw the disheveled knight. He walked over, waiting to be scratched behind the ears. The business of the king was nothing to a horse.
"We're going home, Malcolm." Sir Pursuivant smiled, scratching the horse as was demanded. "I want to make sure my castle is still there."
Sir Pursuivant pulled himself up into the saddle, turned Malcolm's head north. They rode home, never looking back.
epilogue
Ian Tennant stood back, raised his hands to frame the sign he had just hung up. His hands shook a little, but the memorial seemed straight to him. He would ask Percy about it later. Satisfaction filled him with a small amount of contentment. He had worked years after finding the references in libraries to mark the place he felt sure was mentioned in the books and maps.
Even the mound matched the descriptions of the epic battle that had taken place so many centuries ago. Some foundation had bought the land the mound was on, and kept it preserved from intruders. Tennant had heard about it when he was a boy, and finding the mound again had triggered a memory of the event.
He remembered someone named Adam Blake had been involved somehow. The man had earned a world wide reputation with his aides, and then vanished into nothingness as suddenly as he had appeared.
Tennant had dug through news reports and articles but Blake was gone beyond the knowledge of man. He had joined Judge Crater, and Amelia Earhart. Even his trusted assistants had been left in the dark.
Tennant stepped back and looked around. It all seemed so ordinary, a country scene from a picture book. He could almost see Alice on her way to her extraordinary adventures standing beside a tree. He smiled at the tricks the imagination played on his old brain.
Tennant turned, marveling at the way St. Mary had grown in just the few years that he had been there. It wasn't as big as London, but it had added on a number of residents since he had started his research. His sign would mean little to them.
After all no one believed in dragons anymore. They were just creatures from tales. He found the attitude irritating.
There were things out there that would eat a man like a weasel in a henhouse. Everyone knew it. It was on the telly, in the papers, turned into cinema. Yet suggest a dragon had been alive centuries ago, people poo-pooed it.
It violated their sense that the world was a safe place for humanity when in reality a person could die just trying to cross an intersection.
Tennant laughed at such grandiose thoughts. He had been working on the sign for quite a long time. Battling the minions of the town council had perhaps made him a little bitter.
Besides the excitement of finally getting his sign made his heart beat faster than it should. He could feel it racing in his chest. He took a moment to catch his breath as he looked around for anyone else. He hoped he wasn't having a heart attack.
Pain shot through his left arm to tell him that was a vain hope.
"Do you need assistance, Ian Tennant?" A voice as smooth as a river stone sounded unexpectedly in Tennant's ear. "It's here if you want to depend on the help of a wayfarer."
"Thank you." Tennant thought his voice was too thin to his own ears. "I didn't think a little excitement would be such a bother."
"I saw the memorial marker posted." The wayfarer sounded both near and far to Tennant. He blamed the strangeness on his own failing condition. "This has been a place for heroes for a long time, Ian Tennant. I'm sure that some of them would be happy that you're keeping their memory alive to a degree."
"Some of them?" Tennant tried to smile. "Why wouldn't all of them be happy?"
"Some of them are remembered by their descendants, some wanted to fade from memory as soon as their work was done, and some of them have never left this place." The wayfarer handed Tennant to a pair of strong hands. "They are still waiting and not to be trifled with even now."
"How do you know that?" Tennant could only gasp the question. His heart felt like it was exploding in his chest.
"How do I know what, sir?" This new voice sounded puzzled and concerned. "Tony, get a crash cart. I think this old gent is having an infarction. Let's go."
They worked on Ian Tennant, eventually performed emergency surgery. None of the doctors, or nurses, had seen anyone with him as he stumbled through the emergency room doors. They all concluded that he had somehow walked miles on his own while suffering a major attack.
As Tennant recovered in his little cottage, he thought about the words the wayfarer had told him as they had walked along. He couldn't remember anything else about the stranger who had helped him when he needed it. Only the warning stood out.
"Some of them have never left this place. They are still waiting and not to be trifled with even now."