The Dragon's Prize

The Dragon's Prize

Sophie Park

Sandra grit her teeth and caught another blow with her shield.  She rolled to the side, twisting so that the swing’s force would be redirected toward the ground.  The shield still cracked.

“Bastard!”  Sandra tossed the shattered wood aside and danced backward, away from Daro’s next attack.

“Leave my upbringing out of this.  Urchin.”  Daro spat on the ground and gave her an ugly grin.  The blood running between his teeth helped the look.  “Filth herder.”

“Keep talking.”  Sandra came toward him fast.  She sent a strong thrust toward his head, which he easily parried, and then stomped on his foot.  In his arrogance, he was wearing only soft riding boots.  They provided basically no protection against her heavy sollerets and Daro growled in pain.  He couldn’t bring his sword around quickly enough, so he shoved her instead.

He was strong!

Sandra was thrown backward by the force and had to work to catch herself from falling.  Her metal boots screeched and threw sparks as they dragged against the hard rock.  Rather than pressing the advantage, Daro limped backward and raised his own sword in a defensive posture.  He obviously came into this fight thinking that it would be simple to dispatch her.  After all, she was just a human.  How could she possibly expect to succeed against a dragon?

Even polymorphed so that he looked human, he had the strength and speed of his natural form.  A normal warrior would have been dead by now.  Instead, she’d broken his nose and his foot while the only thing he broke was her shield.

“I still don’t understand why you came alone.”  Daro watched her feet, looking for any sign she was about to press the attack.  “You can’t possibly expect to succeed.  The prince is mine unless your puny kingdom pays my ransom!  No one will take my prize from me!”

“I was the only one brave enough to come.”  Sandra shrugged.  It was possible that the king could pay the ransom, but she couldn’t give up on the prince like that.  He’d been nothing but kind to her all these years, when he could have had her thrown out of the royal guard for being a commoner.  Instead he let her stay, commanded it even… she owed him.

“Stupid enough, you mean.”

“I like my way of saying it.”

A stiff wind whipped across the mountaintop, ruffling Sandra’s hair and sending Daro’s dark red trench coat swirling about him in an impressive flourish.  She had to admit, even as a human, he looked formidable.  He wore the heavy trench over lavish silk clothing, all of it a red so dark that it was almost black.  The outfit shimmered in the dying light of the day, like his scales, sometimes looking brilliant and rich and luxurious and other times looking dark.  Abyssal.

Unlike most men, he was clean-shaven.  It highlighted the stark lines of his face and the dark pools of his eyes.  He would have looked better if his nose wasn’t smashed flat from where she hit it with her now-broken shield.

Sandra, on the other hand, was much more plain.  She had flexible chainmail and leather armor, serviceable but not fancy.  She wore thicker plate over her vulnerable portions: a breastplate strapped to the front of the armor, a gorget at her throat and sollerets to protect her feet.  Vambraces to keep her wrists safe, though her gloves were chain for increased flexibility.  Her helmet came off earlier when Daro struck her in the head, and her ears still rang from the hit.

Sandra struck first.  She feinted right and then circled around left, throwing a flurry of thrusts at him as she moved in.  His parries were quick and powerful, but she was used to his strength by now.  Instead of fighting the force, she let her arm roll with it, coiling it into her muscles and unleashing it in the next attack.  With each thrust she stepped forward, circling and twisting, keeping him on the defensive.  He was fast and careful, letting him attack would be too dangerous.

As she drew close enough, she pulled one of her remaining tricks.  She faked a step to the left, twisted right and struck out with a short sword that seemed to appear in her left hand.  Daro shouted in surprise and the blade sank deep into his stomach.  Sandra didn’t give up, she swung her right hand down in a heavy arc that brought her sword’s hilt into the middle of his back, then drove her knee into his stomach.  Shocked from the pain of the sword now sticking through him, Daro didn’t retaliate.  He coughed blood onto the ground, bled it out all over her knee, and shuffled backward, trying to escape.

Sandra punched him in the face, driving a chainmail fist into his too-perfect features.  She struck him again with the cross guard of her sword.  He rolled to the side, blood and teeth flying to the ground.  With each strike she pushed him further and further back, toward the edge of the mountaintop.  He gave ground, backing away.  Cowering.

“Stop.”  He pleaded, and she swung her sword down toward his neck, going for the killing blow.

He brought up a bare arm to catch her attack.  His coat was tougher than it looked, and he deflected most of the strike.  Instead of severing his arm, she dragged a bloody line across it.

“You win!”  Daro surged upright, desperately trying to throw her off.

It worked.

Even with a short sword in his gut and reeling from multiple hits to the head, he was strong.  Sandra was lifted clear off her feet from the blow and thrown backward.  She focused on not accidentally impaling herself during the landing and turned her collapse into a somersault.  She rolled gracefully back to her knees, facing Daro with her sword in front of her.

She expected him to launch an attack, but he was standing still.  He had one hand clutched to his stomach, where her sword hilt was visible.  Thick red blood pumped out around the metal, spilling into a viscous puddle at his feet.  Blood burbled up through his throat and dribbled out of his lips, running in a foamy trail down his chin and dripping down his neck.  She’d opened a thick gash on the side of his face where she hit him with the crossguard and his coat sleeve fluttered in the wind, little more than tatters.

“That’s it?  You yield?”  Sandra didn’t believe it.

“I have no desire to die…”

“That gut wound…”

“I have magic!”  Daro spat the words, then winced in pain.  “I will not die like mortal scum from a… scratch.”

“Scratch!?”  Sandra scoffed.

“Fine.”  Daro gritted his teeth and glared at her.  In the grey twilight, his eyes looked briefly red and vast.  So vast… Sandra felt herself falling into them.  Through slits like a reptile’s and down an abyss that never ended.  “I do not yield.”

“You…”  Sandra felt sleepy, like her mind was shutting down.  The thin air up here?  “You can’t take it back.”  Her words slurred and she realized she was still on her knees.  Shouldn’t she have stood up by now?

His eyes!

He was doing something with his eyes!

She blinked and looked away.  The fog lifted, barely in time to see him charging.  He moved with surprising speed given the sword twisting his insides.

Sandra whipped a dagger out of its sheath in her boot and toward Daro.  He didn’t flinch out of the way and it buried itself into the top of his chest.

He kept coming.

Sandra rolled out of the way, but he stopped on a dime.  She came back to her feet and caught a backhand directly across the face. 

Pain! 

Her head snapped to the side and her roll turned into a graceless fall.  Rough stone met her violently as she fell.  Sharp rocks jabbed into her torso and grit ground itself against her cheek.

She didn’t have time to focus on the pain, or to lie around.  She rolled to the side and tried to get to her feet.  Good thing, too.  The kick aimed at her ribs went wide.  He reversed the motion and brought his heel down painfully on her side.  His boots didn’t stand much of a chance against her chainmail, but his power was enough that he knocked the wind out her.

Sandra made a painful choking noise and her teeth clicked together.  It hurt like nothing she’d ever felt before.  When the pain cleared, she was sure she’d throw up… but there was no time.  No time!

Working through the pain, she struggled to her feet.  She made it to her knees when the hilt of her own short sword struck her in the forehead, just above her left eye.  A bright gout of Daro’s blood splashed across her face with the motion, and she heard the clattering sound of the short sword against rock.

“Sandra!”  A woman’s voice, thin and frightened, shouted from the side of the battleground.

“Mira!  No!”  Sandra blinked, wiped dragon blood off her face, and saw Mira standing at the edge of the mountaintop.  She had a heavy crossbow in her hands and was trembling like a reed in the chill wind.  Her mouth was set in defiance, and her grip on the crossbow was true.  She had it braced against her shoulder to absorb the kickback and had it aimed low, at Daro’s torso.

“Another?  Vermin everywhere!”  Daro laughed, spat blood, and turned away from Sandra.

Mira pulled the trigger.

Daro staggered backward as a bolt punched through his shoulder, then laughed again.  Laughed!  He pulled the bolt out of his shoulder and tossed it dismissively onto ground which was already stained red with his blood.  Sandra’s too.

Through unfocused vision, Sandra noticed that the wound in his side didn’t look nearly as bad anymore.  He wasn’t pumping blood like a fountain, and she thought she could see pink skin underneath his torn clothes.  He was already healing?  That was bad…

“Don’t hurt her!”  Mira stuck out her lower lip stubbornly.  “You yielded!”

“A tactic. A strategy.  Nothing more.”  While Daro talked, Sandra struggled to her feet.  “Give myself some breathing room.  She’s quite gullible, after all.  She believes she can actually save the prince!  She believes she can deny me my due!”  He sounded genuinely angry about that.

“You… liar!”  Mira looked sheepish at that.  It was not a great insult.

“Are you done now?”

“I…”

“You are.  Time to die.  Then I’ll kill your knight friend.”

Sandra was not going to let him just kill her squire.  She was on her feet now, directly behind him.  She drove her sword down into his back with all the strength she could summon.  His smug taunting turned to damaged screaming.  The blade slid easily through coat and shirt, but she struggled to get it through his skin and dense muscle.  Gritting her teeth, Sandra jumped into the air and let gravity and her weight help drive the sword down.

It worked.

The sword slid the rest of the way through him, likely punching through lungs and possibly even heart before scraping through his ribs and appearing out the front of his shirt.  His screams turned to choked sobbing, and he crumpled to his knees under Sandra’s armored weight.

Mira’s eyes went wide watching the scene.  Shocked at the violence?  There was certainly a lot of blood.  It poured out of Daro’s mouth and spurted from his chest, painting the stone crimson.  It sprayed out of his back and coated Sandra.  It mixed with her own blood and stung in her wounds.  Was dragon blood corrosive?  Too late to worry about it now.  Later, if she survived this, she could worry about whether she’d just ruined her armor.

Sandra took a moment to rest on the sword, keeping it pressed firmly into Daro’s broken body.  She’d seen him come back from a lethal abdominal wound.  She wasn’t convinced this had killed him, although any normal person would be dead within moments.

True to his already frightening level of regeneration, Daro struck back.  He surged to his feet, which caused the sword to saw around wildly in his chest, and threw Sandra backward.  She rose half a dozen feet into the air, and for one brief moment she thought she’d been thrown right off the mountain.

What a great way to go.  After stabbing the dragon through the heart, she died from a fall…

Instead, she collapsed painfully to the ground at the edge of the pit in the middle of the plateau they were fighting on.  It lead to his lair, and it was a long fall down.  She couldn’t see the bottom, so she clung tightly to a jagged spike of rock to keep from falling.

“This has been great fun!”  Daro laughed through the river of blood coming out of his mouth.  With his right hand he reached awkwardly behind him and pulled Sandra’s sword out.  Despite his arrogant tone, he screamed when he did it.  “I don’t think anyone has come this close to killing me in a long time.”  With one mighty throw, he tossed her sword off the side of the mountain.

Great.

Also, where did he find the strength to do that?

“But, I’m done toying with you.”

Toying?  Sandra felt like she was winning.  While he was busy talking, she pulled herself inch by inch up from the hole.  Mira was busy reloading the crossbow.

“Mira!  Get out of here!”  Sandra decided to ignore the dragon.

“I’m not leaving you!”

“It’s not safe!”

“Like Hell it’s not safe.”  Daro laughed.  “Do you know what terrible things I’m going to do to her when I’ve killed you, Sandra?”

“Mira!  Just run.”  Sandra did not want to think about the terrible things he could do to her squire.  Mira, like her, joined the expedition out of loyalty to the prince.  Before setting out with Sandra, Mira was a chambermaid whose closest knowledge of battle was dusting old suits of armor.