CHAPTER 14: "Sleeping Giant"

ARI

Bard was armored as promised, albeit with cheap armor from a cheap blacksmith. Sir Oliver smirked at the sight of him.

"Who is this?" he asked.

"The Breaker of Wind, himself," Bard acknowledged, bowing to the knight. "An honor to meet the great Sir Oliver. I am Bard, of the Blue Diamond Theatre, here to conduct research on the cursed beast who burns our land."

Sir Oliver sighed and rolled his eyes at Ari.

"It is his life," she reminded him.

Sir Oliver looked like he wanted to challenge her, but he swallowed any frustration he had. He turned to the little man and said, "Very well... Bard... You will ride the mule with the orc."

Barnacle smiled his crooked smile at Bard. "I am called 'Barnacle,'" he said, extending a hand to shake.

Bard looked at it with the sourest of faces and nodded, saying, "Bard."

They were a motley hunting party, but Ari liked the contrast. Sir Oliver most likely was eager to contest this arrangement, but mounted his horse in silence. He seemed like he was trying to stay on Ari's good side, and she was pleased that he cared.

Ari was mounting her horse when she felt mud speckle her face. She was confused, angry, and turned to see two boys laughing. One held a wooden spoon in his hand that he had used to chuck the mud at Ari's cheek. She pulled her foot from the stirrup and confronted them.

"An accident," the boy with the spoon laughed. Ari hated his rat face.

Ari walked up to them slowly. She did not say anything.

"Jason?" Sir Oliver called from his horse. "Let us be off."

"No accident," Ari said to the boy.

"Go back to the Hell you came from," the rat faced boy teased. He leaned his head in and spat, "Shitbag."

Ari did not think, only pushed. The boy with the spoon made a suctiony squish as his bottom hit the mud he had flung. The other boy looked like he wanted to punch Ari, but she unsheathed her silver sword just a tad. The boy did not even try to put up a fight.

Ari walked away in stride, but still upset that she could not escape who she was to them. She mounted her horse quickly.

Sir Oliver gave her a worried look. "What is this about, now?"

"He call me Shitbag," Ari answered.

Sir Oliver looked back at the boy being helped out of the mud by his friend. He turned to Ari and smiled. "Should have drew the sword." And so he gave Xena a kick and led his band of misfits out of the village and into the wild. As they galloped away, Ari turned to greet the boys with a middle finger.

SIR OLIVER

Something was different about the waterfall today. Something felt different in the old knight's bones. Something felt uneasy.

He dismounted his horse softer than he had ever done in his life. The little man, Bard, did not dismount so gracefully, punishing the earth with his boots.

"Quiet," Sir Oliver barked. "Quiet, now. Come in close, the lot of you."

Ari, Bard and Barnacle gathered around Sir Oliver as he preached.

"If the creature resides," the knight began, "then we must attack it quickly. I will lead the attack. You only move if I say you may move. Understood?"

"Have you encountered many dragons, Sir Oliver?" Bard asked.

Sir Oliver hesitated. He had to confess, "Not... many."

"Have you seen any?" Ari asked.

Sir Oliver sighed. "Saw one, once. From many miles away."

"You've never slew a dragon, ah?" Barnacle asked, laughing.

"Listen, orc," Sir Oliver said, a little angry now, "I have slew many a creature in my days. I have yet to encounter the likes of a dragon, yes. But I know how to kill things. That is something I have encountered. I shall attack first, yes?"

No one challenged him. Ari nodded and put her helmet on. Sir Oliver did the same with his helm, as did Bard and Barnacle.

"Aye, then," Sir Oliver began. "Behind me. And remember, quiet."

They filed, one by one onto the rock that led behind the waterfall. Once inside the cave, Sir Oliver drew his sword, taking no chances. The cave was darker than he remembered. The light that shone through the roof was dimmer on such a dark, cloudy day, but enough to see.

Sir Oliver's eyes scanned the cavern, and it took him a few moments to realize that he had seen the beast. At first, he thought it was a rock, gray, grimy and scaly, but eventually he identified a horn he had previously thought to be a stalactite. From there, he traced the dragon's massive, huddled, sleeping body.

It was more colossal than Sir Oliver imagined, a creature that would struggle to fit into the Great Hall of Nightingshire. Its wings hung off to its sides, one dangling above a massive pit. The wing had little, fang-like talons that protruded from its tips. The dragon's head had more spikes than a flail, some broken, some long and sharp.

Sir Oliver heard a gasp from behind him. It was Barnacle, who had just seen the beast as well. His eyes were wide with excited fear, and he smiled his typical yellow smile. Ari looked more scared than excited once she saw it too. Sir Oliver held up his finger to his mouth to shush them.

He turned back to the creature, his hands gripped tightly on his longsword. The dragon snored, echoing deep vibrations across the wet walls. Every step he took made his heart race a little more. He heard shuffling from behind him. Sir Oliver turned to see Barnacle starting to follow him. He held up a hand to tell him, "No." He had to be the first to attack, to risk his life.

Sir Oliver inched closer and closer. He watched his boots carefully to be sure he did not step on the creature mistakenly and wake it. Soon, the knight was so close, he could feel the heat emanating from its nostrils. He gulped, his heart in his throat.

Sir Oliver wanted to strike the neck. He had never killed a dragon, but he imagined that like most of the vermin he destroyed in his quests, dragons too had spines. It was natural to sever it. He had to get close...

The snoring ceased for a moment. Sir Oliver froze, fearing it had awoken, fearing immediate death. The dragon exhaled deeply once again. Sir Oliver crept in by its neck, the base of its skull. He could see bumps through its thick skin where the creature's rocky spine protruded. Holding his breath he raised his sword, pointed downward at the spine.

He looked back to Ari, who had her sword drawn and raised, waiting. She looked more scared than ever, more scared than him. He looked back at the creature, took a deep breath, and brought the sword down hard into the beast's neck.

Sir Oliver waited for a wail of pain, something to indicate the life leaving the creature's body. He had never felt any force resist his sword as easily as the dragon's neck had. The pointy end had pierced it, barely. A thin line of greenish, black blood trickled down the creature's neck, but it bled like a man's thumb might if pricked by a thorn.

Then the creature's solid, red eye opened.

It growled now, more than just a snore, but a growl of anger. The whole cave floor under Sir Oliver's feet seemed to shake. He tried, to no avail, to yank his sword out from the dragon's neck. To live, he gave up and ran as far away from the beast as he could. He was nearly knocked into the watery, black pit next to him by the dragon's wing, which started flapping, creating a gust with each beat. When he found sure footing, he turned to see the dragon's long neck stretched high. Its red eyes beamed down at them, and it inhaled deeply.

"Go! Now!" Sir Oliver screamed as the creature finally shot its flames in their direction. Sir Oliver felt it singing his backside through the armor and he fell to his knees.

Ari, Bard and Barnacle scrambled out of the cave, but there was no time for a careful escape. Ari was the first of them to dive through the waterfall, headfirst into the lake, Bard behind her. Barnacle, seeing Sir Oliver's struggle, found a rock lying on the cave floor, picked it up and threw it, with sharp accuracy, at the sword lodged in the dragon's neck.

The creature screamed in pain, and reeled its head back to attack once again. It gave the knight just a long enough window to rise and run. The dragon spat another concussive blast of fire in their direction. Sir Oliver grabbed Barnacle as the two of them ran, and pulled him in close to shield him from the fire. Sir Oliver felt more of it burn as he and Barnacle toppled through the rushing waterfall, into the lake.

Sir Oliver let the water cool his burning armor. Keeping under, he saw fire shoot out through the sky above him. When it ceased, he peeked his head up for air. He looked around, assuring the safety of his party. Ari, Bard and Barnacle were all intact, but terrified, and watched the waterfall intently as the dragon broke its threshold and flew above their heads.

The four of them ducked their heads under yet again. Sir Oliver stayed under until he saw the pointy tip of the dragon's tail pass over them and off into the sky. Rising to the surface once more, he saw the creature fill the sky with fire. It let out a familiar, deafening shriek.

"Is it flying to the castle?" Ari asked, spitting up water.

"No, it's flying west," Sir Oliver answered, wincing from pain. "I liked that sword," he sighed.

As the knight gasped for air, he heard Bard joke, "Well, at least now I know the dragon's skin is gray, not green."

Sir Oliver glared.