Bryan Davis - Eye of the Oracle

The man bowed. “I am confident of that, my lady, and we both look forward to serving you.”

“Of course you do.” Morgan stood and angled the blade toward the chess pieces. “As long as you play this game well, your rewards will be great.”

The man swallowed hard and backed away. “I will play it well. I do not wish to consider the alternative.”

With a deft stroke, Morgan sliced the chessboard’s black knight vertically in half. “No,” she said, glaring at him. “The alternative is not pleasant. . not pleasant at all.”

Circa AD 492

Edward shivered. Rarely had it been so cold this early in the season. He shifted his feet, trying to stay as quiet as possible while listening to the generals who surrounded the king, but the freezing rain spattering the fallen leaves sounded like a hundred slabs of sizzling bacon, drowning out the conversation. Walking on tiptoes as he strained to see the king, he wedged his way between two soldiers. They stank badly, but at least they shielded him from the cold, wet breeze.

He tightened his scabbard belt and folded his arms in behind his shield. The lining his mother had sewn into his tunic really felt good now. She had warned of an early winter, claiming that her aching bunions and arthritic elbow agreed with the forecast of the early migrating birds. She was right, as usual. Now if only he could prove himself to the king and move up in the ranks, he could afford to send some money back to her for medicines and a thicker cloak. Ever since Father died, sewing soldiers’ uniforms had been their source of income, and that barely put food on the table.

He elbowed to the front line of soldiers and settled next to a burly man who smelled even worse than the others. But it was worth it. Now he could see the king sitting on a rotting stump in the center of his ring of advisors. With his arms propped on his knees, King Arthur leaned his sword against his shoulder. He spoke loudly enough to be heard over the winter storm. “I know of Goliath’s evil deeds, Sir Devin, but I trust King Makaidos. He did not teach his son to murder and steal.”

Sir Devin nodded with a slight tilt of his head, his pupils barely visible in his narrowed eyes. “Too much trust makes kingdoms fall, Your Majesty.” His words slipped out through clenched teeth, each one tempered by the diplomacy due a knight of his order. “Your faith resides in coats of scales while you snub your nose at your own kind, which could lead to dishonorable, even rebellious, behavior.” He dipped his head again. “Your Worship.”

Edward fumed. How could the king put up with Devin’s sarcasm? Sure, the knight had good reason to hate dragons, but his irreverence deserved a date with the ax man.

Merlin pounded the end of his walking staff on the leaf-strewn ground. “Sire, a man who breathes rumors of treachery had better back his words with more evidence than his own hot air.”

Edward clenched his fist. That’s telling him, Merlin!

Devin swept his arm toward a village on a nearby hill. “Didn’t Goliath’s slaughter of six orphans convince you? Isn’t that enough evidence for us all to hate the very air they breathe?”

“You only hate what you fear,” Merlin retorted. “If you weren’t such a coward, you would learn that many dragons are trustworthy.”

Devin sneered at him. “It’s easy to feign courage when you hold the dragon’s bane, but you won’t even tell us what it is. Every dragon seems to tremble when you walk near.”

“That will remain my secret, for I am bound by a covenant from Noah himself to protect what he has passed down to me.”

“Merlin,” Devin said with a condescending glare, “having heard you recite your pedigree too many times, we are painfully aware of your prophetic heritage.” He turned to face the king. “My point still stands. The seed of murder had to come from somewhere, and Goliath’s father is the sower.”

“And God himself created Satan and all the demons.” Merlin pointed his staff at Devin. “Where did your seed come from?”

Devin grasped the hilt of his sword. “Listen, old man, you ”

“Enough!” Arthur rose to his feet. “In a time of crisis, what might happen must yield to what is certain to happen. We cannot defeat the barbarian horde without help from the dragons, so there is no real choice in the matter.”

The crowd of soldiers murmured. Edward picked up the words of the closest men. “Fight alongside dragons after so many years? How can we know which ones to trust? And, in any case, who would dare venture a journey near Bald Top to request their aid?”

The king waved a hand toward Devin’s squire. “Palin. I will assign another scribe for the battle. Go and ask Makaidos to come!”

Palin lifted his quill and stared at the king, wide-eyed. “To the dragon’s cave, Sire?” He glanced at Devin, then shifted his gaze back to the king. “I only brought my close combat sword,” he said, patting his scabbard.

Cold sweat dampened Edward’s back. He took one step forward, then hesitated.

The king scowled. “You won’t need a sword, Palin, just ”

Edward cleared his throat and thrust himself into the inner circle. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty.” He stepped up to the king and dropped to one knee. “I will fetch the dragon for you, Sire.” Looking King Arthur in the eye, he tried to keep his voice steady. “He will either come with me or die.”

Arthur smiled and gestured for Edward to rise. “What is your name, young man?”

Edward stood and nodded at the king. “Edward, son of your servant, Edmund.”

“Edmund, the orphan-keeper?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“He told me he named his son Edmund, after himself. Why would you disrespect him by calling yourself by another name?”

Edward nodded again. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I honor my father. I have chosen to take a similar name until I prove myself worthy to carry his.”

“And what would make you worthy? Daring to enter the cave of Makaidos? He is not a danger to you or anyone in my kingdom.”

“No, Your Majesty. I wish to prove myself as a faithful servant to you. A dragon killed my father as he defended the orphanage, so the thought of aligning myself with their kind is abhorrent to me. Yet, I am willing to do your bidding in spite of my hatred of dragons.”

Arthur slid his sword into its scabbard. “Well spoken, young knight, but your father’s murderer was Goliath, not Makaidos.”

Sir Devin patted Edward on the shoulder. “It is said that the sprout never sloughs off its seed, Your Majesty. Edward is brave and honorable, as was his father. Goliath is a murderer, so his father ”

Merlin pushed Devin away with his staff. “You have spilled enough bile, Devin. Let the boy get on with it before we all freeze to death.”

“And before the Saxons return for another attack,” the king added.

The burly man from the circle stepped forward. “I volunteer to accompany him, Sire.” He drew a long sword from his scabbard. “I fear no dragon.”

“Excellent!” the king said. “No one should venture toward Bald Top alone. We will assemble at Chalice Hill as planned and await the dragons.”

Edward frowned. With that huge man at his side, no one would ever give him credit for bringing back Makaidos. Besides, this wide-bodied soldier needed a bath worse than if he had been sprayed by a polecat.

After bowing to the king, Edward turned and stalked away. He could hear the soldier’s heavy footsteps behind him and his deep voice. “Edward, may I suggest the more gradual slope? It makes a wide circuit around the mountain.”

Marching more quickly, Edward held his shield close to his side to keep it from bouncing. “If you’re too old or fat to follow, then take the easy path. I’m going the fastest way.”