one had ever ridden a dragon in all of history. “Where do we go?” he asked.
“Home,” Farloft answered, and sprang into the air with such urgency Laval almost fell from his seat on the dragon’s neck.
- THE WIZARD’S MAGIC -
Laval examined the unconscious boy in the inner cave of the dragon’s lair. The wizard recognized King Ludlow’s crest on the dagger’s hilt stuck in the boy’s chest. The lad felt pale and cool to the touch, his breathing short and painful, if the look on his face was any indication. The front of his tunic was soaked in blood.
“How did this happen?” Laval asked.
“The villagers turned on him. He did nothing to deserve this.” Farloft answered in irritation. “Can you help him?” Farloft snapped in irritation.
“I don’t know, Farloft,” Laval said, soothingly. The dragon seemed extremely upset, more than any other time Laval could remember. “He has lost quite a lot of blood.”
Farloft began to pace even though there was hardly room for more than a few steps before he had to turn, tail thrashing, and retrace his steps. “It was all my fault,” he muttered.
“What was?” Laval asked.
“I gave him the dagger,” Farloft shouted in frustration and anger. “I sent him home.”
Laval’s mind began to work at a frightening speed. The wizard knew the true tale of The Battle of Elgon, even if the story had been altered over the years. If Farloft would fly a wizard for the boy, and give the boy the dagger of King Ludlow, he had to be very special to the dragon. This was the chance Laval had been waiting for. His time for revenge was at hand.
“Calm down, Farloft.” The dragon had the cave so hot from his agitated behavior Laval could feel sweat trickling down his back under his robes. “Perhaps....” he said thoughtfully.
“Perhaps what?” Farloft demanded.
“Perhaps with your help we can save him.” Laval looked up at the dragon. “I will need stronger magic then just my own to stop the bleeding when I remove the dagger. I will need another portion of your wing.”
“If that is what you need, that is what you shall have,” Farloft stated. He placed the edge of his left wing on the rock slab above James’ head.
Laval removed a wickedly sharp knife from his healer’s bag and began to deftly slice a piece of membrane from Farloft’s wing.
“Just enough for the boy,” Farloft warned the wizard.
Laval nodded as he completed his work. “I will place a sleeping spell upon the boy to make his pain less. This will not be easy on him.”
Laval placed his palms on the boy’s temples while reciting an incantation quietly under his breath. The boy’s breathing became deeper and slowed considerably. The wizard then placed both hands on the hilt of the dagger and with one mighty yank, freed it from James’ chest. The boy groaned and Farloft shot the wizard a fearsome look. It was lost on Laval. He had his head down working on stemming the new flow of blood from James’ wound. Laval wrapped the wing membrane around his index finger and with great care shoved it into the hole left by the dagger, effectively lining the wound with dragon skin. The blood immediately began to coagulate. The flow subsided and eventually stopped.
“Help me bandage him,” Laval said.
Farloft held James propped up in a sitting position as Laval placed a bandage on the wound and kept it in place by wrapping the full circumference of the boy’s chest. That accomplished, Laval washed the remainder of blood from himself and James.
“We need to keep him warm and his thirst quenched,” Laval stated. “He has lost a lot of blood.”
Farloft curled up on the slate floor making a bed for James as he had so many nights before. “Bring him here.”
Laval carefully lifted the boy and placed him atop Farloft’s hind foot between his tail and side as the dragon directed.
“I will see to his warmth,” Farloft said defensively. “There is a cup there in the cleft which he uses.” The dragon indicated a golden goblet beside a plate on a small ledge nearby. “You can fetch water from the pool outside.”
Laval found it extremely interesting the boy had been here often enough to have a goblet from the dragon’s treasure trove for his own personal drinking needs. Where did the boy come from and what brought the two together?
“Call me when he wakes and I will fetch some water,” Laval said and with that retired to the far side of the cave where he wrapped himself in his robes and feigned sleep.
Silently, he fingered the small portion of dragon wing he hastily torn from the larger piece he put in James’ wound. He tried to judge its size by touch. It was so small. But, dragon magic was very strong. It would be enough. He would have his revenge.
- TOUCH AND GO -
“Laval?” Farloft called softly.
Laval raised his head from off his arms, crossed upon his bent knees.
“He is waking up,” the dragon announced.
Laval grabbed the cup and hurried to the pool just outside the main cave entrance. The wizard did quite a bit of thinking before he fell asleep last night. He decided to be as helpful and cooperative as possible with Farloft. This would make the dragon even less suspicious of his intentions.
Laval returned with the water in time to see the boy open his eyes.
“Farloft,” the lad said, but the effort sent him into a coughing fit.
“Do not try to speak,” the dragon soothed.
Laval lifted the boy’s head and put the cup to his lips. “Just a little,” he cautioned.
When James finished drinking, Laval removed the cup and eased the boy back down. The wizard felt his skin. It was still cool and clammy to the touch. He undid the bandage about the boy’s chest, which he strategically placed in the front so it would be accessible without moving the lad too much. Even so, Laval’s patient moaned in pain.
“Careful, Wizard,” Farloft snapped.
Laval looked up directly into Farloft’s hovering face. “A wound this serious is bound to cause pain, Farloft. I take no pleasure in hurting the boy. Now that he is awake, and we know that he is mending, I can prepare a potion to ease his pain and help him sleep.”
Farloft huffed and retreated a bit.
Laval felt content with the way the injury looked. Although still a gaping hole, he saw no swelling, no redness and no further bleeding. Hopefully, all of this indicated the lad would recover in time. The magic in the dragon’s wing had done its job. He re-wrapped the wound and gave the boy another drink.
“What is your name, boy?”
“His name is James,” Farloft answered for him. He looked down paternally at the boy. “You lie quiet now. You are going to be all right.”
Laval rummaged through his healers bag. He removed a vial of purplish colored powder. The wizard emptied the cup, refilled it with warm water from the hot springs pool, sprinkled the powder on top and then swirled it to mix the drink.
“Just a few swallows of this, James,” Laval advised, as he held the cup to the boy’s lips again. “It will make you feel better.”
“Thank you,” James said softly. It only took two sips before his eye lids began to droop. On the third, they blinked twice. On the fourth, he patted Farloft’s side affectionately and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
- THE BOY, THE DRAGON AND THE WIZARD -
The three in the cave quickly fell into a routine.
Laval proved himself quite useful. He not only tended to James’ wound, but he also went on a daily hunting expedition to procure food for the trio. Though he possessed no weapons, he never returned empty handed and always brought enough to satisfy even Farloft’s large appetite. Farloft told James the wizard no doubt killed the game with magic. The dragon carefully inspected whatever Laval brought back. Down deep in his dragon soul, he still did not trust the wizard, but he had to admit Laval did save James’ life and was gentle in his actions toward the boy.
Farloft never left James’ side, or more correctly, James never left Farloft’s side. The dragon kept him warmly cradled b
etween his side and tail. He watched over him day and night, soothing him when he cried out in pain, telling him stories when he asked, humming or singing while he slept.
As for James, the pain was difficult to endure. Laval’s potions helped some, but Farloft’s company kept him fighting to stay alive. His recovery was slow, but recover he did.
By the end of the month, both James’ chest and Farloft’s wing mended and the time came for Farloft to take Laval home.
“You have been most helpful, Wizard,” Farloft complimented. “I owe you a great debt.”
Laval acknowledged the comment with a mere nod of his head. “I hope you will allow me to return for a visit and check on James in say....a fortnight?”
“You think that needful?” Farloft asked.
He looked over his shoulder at James sitting by the mouth of the cave, in the mid-day sun. His back was against the rock face. The color had returned to his cheeks. In fact, unless the boy moved, which still gave him discomfort, you would not notice his injury.
Laval tried to keep as calm as possible. He had heard dragons could smell fear and deceit. He needed an excuse to return, yet not make the dragon suspicious. He also needed to get close enough to Farloft to administer the potion. He still intended to brew it from the piece of the dragon’s wing hidden in his pocket.
“James is not fully recovered. I think it would be wise for me to look in on him one last time. Of course, if you should need me prior to that, you most certainly could come and get me,” Laval offered.
“Thank you,