Peter dismounted from his horse and looked at the sword in his hand incredulously. It was a real sword! How on earth did he come to have it in his hand? And where had the dragon come from? It was enormous. He took a few steps towards it but it didn’t move. It must be dead, he decided. But then, who had killed it? He looked again at the sword in his hand and turned white. Had he killed the dragon in some sort of dreadful dream? Was it possible?
He started in surprise as a gorgeously robed old man appeared at his elbow. A magician, Peter thought, without quite knowing why.
“Give me the sword!” the old man snapped and then, seeing that Peter was still in more than a bit of a daze, grasped it roughly from his hand. It was only as the sword flashed triumphantly in the sun that Peter dimly began to understand what had happened.
“Stay where you are,” the old man snarled. Peter blinked in surprise for although he’d worked out that the sword had made him kill the dragon, it hadn’t entered his head that anyone else might be involved, far less a magician.
Lord Jezail left him standing and ran quickly up to the dead dragon. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the magicians retaliated with a barrage of hexes but he was desperate to have some trophy of his great kill. Let him at least have the dragon’s tongue! His heart thudded and his black eyes gleamed with triumph! He’d done it! He’d killed a dragon!
It was only as he approached the dragon’s head that the suspicion dawned that something wasn’t quite right. His eyes sharpened. The head looked … well, it looked rather like rubber. Horrified, he bent down and touched it, his face incredulous. It was made of rubber! But it couldn’t be! His brain worked furiously. It had been a real, live dragon he had killed. He was sure of it!
He became aware of a hissing noise and, looking at the vast bulk that was Arthur, saw that the dragon seemed to be shrinking by the second. Poking the red scales on the dragon’s side with the blade of his sword, he stiffened angrily as the sudden burst of escaping air made the rudest of rude noises.
It was then that realization struck him.
The dragon was nothing more than a great big balloon!
“You didn’t really think that we’d let you kill Arthur, did you?” Prince Kalman said conversationally.
Lord Jezail whirled round, an expression of fury on his face, to find Prince Kalman and Lord Rothlan standing behind him.
“You!” he mouthed venomously, realizing too late that he’d been outwitted. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you! But don’t forget,” he hissed, “don’t forget that I still have the girl — and,” he waved the sword threateningly, “I have Dragonslayer as well!”
And, before they could answer or make any move to stop him, he muttered the words of a hex and disappeared.
“Look out,” Archie shrieked as Prince Kalman’s hex returned Arthur to the hill in a roar of sound, fire and fury.
No one needed to be told. The MacArthurs took one look at the dragon and scattered — for Arthur, unaware that he was no longer confronting Lord Jezail, was a terrifying sight as, wings beating strongly, he roared his way furiously round the cavern. Great sheets of flame scorched the walls and several banners and wall hangings were reduced to ashes before he discovered that he was no longer in the open air but back in the safety of a strangely deserted hill.
Where, he thought, looking round in amazement as he swooped down to land, where had everyone gone? It was only when he saw scared faces peeping apprehensively from behind rocks round the cavern’s edge that he realized the sensation he’d caused and, feeling more than slightly guilty, landed beside the MacArthur and the Lords of the North who had watched his sudden arrival with heartfelt relief.
“Well done, Arthur!” the MacArthur smiled broadly as he jumped to his feet, delighted to see him safely back.
Archie, Hamish and Jaikie rushed up together with the rest of the MacArthurs who crowded excitedly round the dais. They looked rather shame-faced at having run away but really, as Archie said later, you could hardly blame them; for the fearsome dragon that had soared into the cavern belching smoke and flames all over the place was nothing like the Arthur they knew and loved.
Conscious that he’d done well, Arthur’s eyes glowed with happiness as Archie flung his arms round his neck. No longer fearful and timid, he’d stood up to Lord Jezail and his magic sword.
It was then that Neil arrived with Prince Kalman and Lord Rothlan.
“Arthur, you were wonderful!” Neil said, rushing forward. “Absolutely brilliant!” he added, looking at the dragon with real respect. He still couldn’t quite believe that Arthur could look so terrifying.
It was when the MacArthur cleared his throat that they noticed the Lords of the North and hastily moving towards them, bowed low.
The MacArthur, nodding approvingly, gestured to Hamish and Jaikie, who immediately brought chairs forward for their visitors. It was only when Amgarad flew over to perch on Lord Rothlan’s shoulder and everyone had settled comfortably that Arthur breathed a very gentle cloud of smoke down his long nose and looked questioningly at the magicians. “What happened?” he asked simply.
Prince Kalman smiled. “Well, we’d no intention of letting Lord Jezail kill you, Arthur. You know that. I just waited for the right moment and hexed you back into the hill.”
“So I disappeared?”
“Well, not quite,” the prince confessed. “I, er … I left your image behind … in the shape of a huge balloon. The people watching didn’t know the difference.”
“Neither did Lord Jezail,” added Lord Rothlan. “In fact, his face when he discovered that he’d just killed a balloon was really quite something!”
“I bet he was gutted!” Neil grinned.
“Something like that,” the prince admitted, his eyes gleaming appreciatively.
Amgarad hissed as Lord Rothlan rose to his feet and approached the small table that held the MacArthur’s crystal. With a muttered few words, he passed a hand over it but to no effect. The crystal remained dull and cloudy. “No joy there,” he remarked. “He’s still hiding himself from us.”
“And Clara!” Lord Alarid said somberly.
Lord Rothlan nodded. “Actually, those were his final words,” he said, looking dismayed as he remembered the triumph on Lord Jezail’s face. “He has Clara and he has the sword …”
“He won’t hurt Clara, will he?” Neil asked hesitantly.
“No, but he’ll force Clara to give him the spells,” Prince Kalman’s voice was grim, “and I wouldn’t be surprised, either, if he has plans for Dragonslayer. Or, more likely, that Dragonslayer has plans for him.”
Lord Rothlan looked startled. “You mean he’ll attack the Valley of the Dragons?”
At his words, a murmur of unease ran round the circle of assembled lords and Amgarad gave a cry of distress.
Neil looked at the MacArthur. “You mentioned that before,” he said, trying to visualize a valley full of dragons. “It’s in Ashgar, isn’t it?”
Lord Rothlan nodded. “Yes, and once Jezail returns to his citadel in Stara Zargana, I think the sword will most definitely take charge of him. Lord Jezail will become another Sir Pendar.”
“Not necessarily, Alasdair,” the MacArthur disagreed. “Sir Pendar wasn’t a magician and once Jezail has the spells from Clara, he might well be able to control the sword.”
Oh, no,” the prince leant forward to emphasize his words. “He won’t want to! One of Jezail’s main complaints was the price he had to pay for his dragon pills. He was never a well man and he’s very old, you know, even in our terms. He used to say that if it weren’t so dangerous, he’d have a go at killing some of his own dragons to save himself the expense. Jokingly, you know … but underneath it all, I think he was quite serious.”
Lord Rothlan smiled sourly. “You’re right, Kalman,” he nodded in agreement. “Once a Dragon Seeker, always a Dragon Seeker!”
Arthur gazed at Lord Rothlan in horror. He’d heard stories about the Valley of the Dragons when he was very young; a fabulous place set among fantastically shaped cliffs that hid caves and deep gorges. No human ever went there for the dragons were fierce and could kill with one long breath of flame. Now, from what Prince Kalman had said, the dragons were in real danger. Worry gripped him. He knew only too well the strength of Dragonslayer’s magic. The dragons wouldn’t stand a chance and even if they tried to hide, there would be no escape. Lord Jezail would use the sword to seek them out, pick them off one by one and kill them all! He had to go there and warn them. Now! At once!
He was just about to say so when Lord Alarid rose to his feet and looked at them all in turn. “Now that we know his true nature, I think we must make plans to stop Lord Jezail before he does any more damage,” he said seriously.
There was a general murmur of agreement at his words.
“Quite right,” Lord Dorian said grimly. “The man’s a menace. He’s always been full of crazy schemes and, if he gets the spells from Clara, he’ll be a threat to the entire region!”
“Very true,” Lord Alarid nodded, “but first of all, we have to rescue Clara from his clutches, and then,” he continued, “do what we can to protect the Valley of the Dragons from Dragonslayer.”
Prince Kalman and Lord Rothlan looked at one another. This was going to be no mere skirmish.
“You’re talking about a massive undertaking, Alarid,” Lord Alban said seriously.
“I am, indeed,” Lord Alarid said. “I’m talking about war!”
“War?” Neil gasped as everyone sat up, looking more than slightly startled.
“War,” Lord Alarid repeated sternly. “It’s the only way! We must end Jezail’s rule in Ashgar forever!”
Hamish and Jaikie looked at one another in alarm but Arthur’s eyes lit up at Lord Alarid’s words and, with a roar of approval, he sent a long, curling stream of fire streaking across the cavern.
They were going to Ashgar!