No Mere Dragon

Not my best piece of writing and nowhere near my favorite, but I thought I would post it anyway.

Words: 1,021

           Dennis was dreaming again. It was the same thing. Every time.

 A garden of golden trees.

            A girl wearing a netted veil.

            And a dragon with blood red eyes.

            A clap of thunder sounded overhead and the bounty hunter sat up with a start. He raised a hand over his eyes to shield them from the oncoming torrent of rain. Lightening flashed across the sky as he clamored to his feet and sloshed across the camp through thickening mud.

            Three tents were erected around a damp and unlit pile of logs—three horses stood tethered to the side, twitching with irritation from the rain.  Two large hound dogs stood alert at the foot of a lone tree, shivering slightly in the cold. Dennis watched the dogs as he lifted a roll of tobacco to his lips and lit it. He drew in a deep breath, and then let it out watching the smoke dissipate in front of him. The dogs whimpered slightly, their ears twitching toward the nearby forest.

            Dennis turned a full circle, an ominous feeling falling over him. “EVERYBODY UP!” he bellowed, lunging forward to where he had left his sword laying at the foot of his tent. He snatched it, spinning toward the woods just as the dogs started barking. He narrowed his eyes against the rain, searching the dim light for a sign of their target. Something moved among the trees. He spotted a glint of red.

            “The dragon,” Pete growled, joining Dennis’ side as he shrugged into his oiled fur coat and crushed a leather hat on the top of his balding head. “It’s going to be a big ‘un,” he muttered, hefting a large spear and casting a cold glance toward the third man who scrambled out of his tent, clasping his boots and he stumbled through the mud. “Cal, get them horses ready.”

            Dennis gathered their supplies as his pulse raced hot in his veins. Six months they had been tracking the fabled ruby dragon, following it to its lair deep in the northern woods of Trevlia. He rubbed his chin, momentarily wishing for a razor to shave off the stubble that had grown overnight.

            “Let’s move!” Pete shoved past him, freeing the dogs then mounting his horse.

            Cal swung up onto the second horse, and Dennis mounted the third, gathering the eager stallion’s reins then sending him into a gallop after the barking dogs. The horse lurched through the mud, then sprang onto the firmer footing in the forest and leveled out at a steady gallop, springing over fallen logs.

            The chase went on. The dogs were hot on the dragon’s trail with the horses bearing the men following close behind them. The storm cleared as they continued deeper into the forest, slowing to navigate a portion of rocky terrain. When they broke through the cover of the trees, they were high in the wild northern hills, overlooking an endless expanse of forest. A glint of red in the distance spurred them onwards.

            Sunset came and they set up camp at the base of a cliff that they planned on scaling at sunrise. Dennis tethered the horses, ate a lump of dried meat, and then settled down in his tent for the night. His mind raced with thoughts of finally bringing down the dragon and claiming a hefty pile of gold as a reward. As the sounds of night lulled around him, he finally fell asleep and once again, he dreamed.

A garden of golden trees.

            A girl wearing a netted veil.

            And a dragon with blood red eyes.

            A roar followed by a muffled yell shook Dennis awake. He sprang to his feet, snatched up his weapon, and raced out into the gray of early morning. Thick fog hugged the ground, but he could see that the horses were gone—broken loose—and the other tents were shredded. He yelled, spotting the huge footprints of a dragon in the soft earth.

            The wine of one of the dogs drew Dennis from his shock. He turned, finding one dog remaining where it had been tied the night before. “Where is that red beast?” He growled, turning the eager hound loose and following it on foot. He would avenge his friends. Or die trying.

            Warm sunlight broke through the fog as the sun rose. Dennis found his confidence rising as the landscape became visible. The forest was beautiful in the early morning light. He was walking through a grove of tall trees with vibrant gold leaves.

The dog’s baying suddenly cut off.

Dennis sprinted toward the dog’s last sound. He drew his sword, throwing aside its heavy sheath. After a moment he spotted the dog at the foot of a tree, dead with a clean slit to its throat. He halted, stunned, No dragon can kill a dog so cleanly. He looked around, spotting something moving through the golden leaves ahead of him.

            “You there! Stop where you are!” He ran forward only to come to an abrupt halt.

            It was a woman. He could see her face through the branches. Her hair was the color of autumn, with pale skin, warm eyes, and bright red lips. A netted veil hung halfway over her face. She didn’t seem to see him, but there was the touch of a smile to her face. She moved and was gone.

            “Wait!” He dashed into the clearing where he had seen her, looking around with deflating hope. She was nowhere to be seen. His gaze fell, and he froze. He spotted footprints of a woman’s bare feet . . . and where the woman’s prints ended, the footprints of a dragon began. He turned around, studying the prints in astonishment. It is not a mere dragon which we have been hunting.

            Hot air brushed across his back, followed by a guttural rumble so quiet that he hardly heard it. Dennis turned slowly, his stomach flipping as he met the blood red eyes of a ruby red dragon. She curled her lips, revealing her glistening white teeth.

            His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword.

           The dragon sprang.

© Copyright Charity K, 2013