Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #15 June 2015 | Page 24

“Edward, you can scout the south side in the morning and see if there’s another entrance.” John said, as
they pulled up and dismounted under the few spindly
trees to be found, next to a sluggish stream. Night was
drawing in, no one wanted to camp this close to the
dragon’s lair but neither did they want to go in unprepared.

“Kevin, check the weapons and equipment. Make
sure no rust stops our swords drawing from the scabbard.” Kevin nodded. “I’ll go over to that small hill
and see what I can see, you never know we might get
lucky, the dragon could be napping then we can get
this over with and go home.”

John pointed over at what they could only assume was
the front entrance. Now they were here John felt an
unfamiliar sensation of fear building up in his guts.
He felt a deep responsibility for his brothers and now
wished he’d brought some men at arms with them, but
there wasn’t supposed to have been a real dragon. Edward on the other hand was quite excited by the whole
prospect of tackling a dragon. He thought it was the
best thing that could have happened and his obvious
enjoyment of the situation had helped; his cheerful assumption that they would all soon be in possession of
dragon’s teeth and treasure was inspiring in the damp
gloom.

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” Kevin said in a small voice,
“are you sure you want to fight on a Sunday?” He had
a growing premonition that this mission was doomed,
especially if God was going to be otherwise engaged.

“Tough luck, that dragon doesn’t know what day it is,
Sunday or not, I’m afraid if it leaves its lair tomorrow
we’ll be doing our best to make sure it doesn’t get
back in.” John ruffled Kevin’s hair in passing.

“Don’t worry kid, we’ll sort it! We’ll be done by this
time tomorrow and on our way back home.” Edward
said cheerfully but Kevin couldn’t shake the conviction that something was going to go wrong.

The three dragon hunters spent the evening in a cold
camp, not wanting the dragon to see any firelight on

its territory. They garnered what fun they could on
cold water and colder rations, telling im possible tales
of derring do, laughing and joking well into the night.
The boys took turns to watch the entrance all night but
no dragon activity was seen. Night turned to day and
they prepared for their quest.

Most of the morning was spent on reconnoitring the
area, Edward took his horse and circled the rocky
mound, John took his place firmly before the entrance,
keeping his head down and waiting for any sign that
the dragon was at home. Kevin stayed in camp, cleaning armour and equipment. By mid-afternoon they all
met back up and decided there was only one way to do
this. Get suited and booted and be proactive, it seemed
the dragon wasn’t interested in coming to them. They
prepared to do battle.

Although they could not see the actual dragon, there
was plenty of evidence of its thievery all around.
There were cow, sheep and pig bones, with half eaten
specimens dotted about, so many in fact that they were
a hazard underfoot, particularly abundant before the
cave entrance.

The dragon hunters approached as silently as they
could. Despite Edward’s attempts to persuade John
to ‘storm’ the entrance, John curtly pointed out that
storming anything with only three young men might
prove to be a little difficult. John led the way, sword
at the ready but also fairly bristling with weaponry, he
had his armour in place, a longsword, spear and dagger, John was taking no chances. Edward and Kevin
also carried swords and daggers.

This was it, the dragon’s lair. The entrance was enormous, much bigger than it had looked from the opposite hill. The immense claw marks scored on the walls,
floor and ceiling were inches deep, Kevin shuddered,
imagining the rapier length of those claws.

Edward nudged him, nodding at the marks, “Don’t
worry kid, looking at the size of those,” he drew a
finger across his throat, it’ll be over quick.”

“Shut up Ed, get in front, or it’ll be over even quicker
for you.” John said.

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