Chapter Six

 

Josiah dismounted and walked slowly across the clearing, studying the ground as he went. “Here’s where we left the horses,” he said aloud, kneeling to examine three sets of hoof prints in the soil. He traced the outline of a print with his finger. “I’d recognize the mare’s tracks anywhere.”

He stood and walked methodically across the clearing. “And here’s where I came back for the egg. This is the same clearing—it has to be! But where is the cottage? And how could a well just disappear?”

Puzzled, he crossed and re-crossed the clearing repeatedly, searching for any sign of the cottage. But other than the prints of the horses, the ground was bare, devoid of any sign that the cottage or well had ever existed. He turned about in a slow circle, studying the trees, noticing the path that led from the forest. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind: this was the same clearing.

“Now what shall I do with the egg?’ he asked aloud, though he expected no answer. “I shall not take it back to the castle; I have no other choice but to just leave it here.”

Josiah opened his saddlebags and carefully removed the dragon’s egg. He cradled it in his hands for a moment, noticing again that the egg, gray and dull when he brought it out, was now beginning to glow and pulse with color. To his chagrin, it felt warm and alive. What if the peasant lied to me? he wondered. What if the egg really is alive and can still hatch? The idea frightened him.

He squared his shoulders, resolute and determined. Carrying the egg to the edge of the forest, he carefully placed it on the ground, situating it between two tree roots so that it could not roll. “I want you, want you desperately,” he told the egg, “but my Lord King Emmanuel has decreed that his subjects shall not possess the egg of a dragon. I cannot keep you.”

He looked at the egg one last time and then steeled himself to turn and walk away. The egg, now golden in color, pulsated and shimmered with iridescent highlights. The shimmering surface seemed to throb with a familiar rhythm, glowing and pulsating with iridescent light and all the colors of the rainbow. The young prince watched, fascinated, as the egg once again mimicked the rhythm of his own heart.

“Never!” he cried aloud, as if to reinforce his own determination. “This is the egg of a dragon! My Lord King Emmanuel has forbidden me to have it. The egg stays here.” Clenching his fists, he forced himself to turn his back on the egg and return to his horse.

With a sigh of relief, he mounted. “It’s as if the egg is calling to me,” he told the mare, “and I must not listen. I must never listen! I am determined to leave it here once and for all. We must return to the Castle of Faith without it.” With a shake of the reins, he rode from the clearing.

He made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder for one last look at the egg. A tiny little imp of a man dressed in a green jerkin and brown leggings was standing on the tree root and staring at the egg. The little man was slightly less than a foot tall, with spindly legs and arms and a curly, brown beard. Josiah quickly reined to a stop. At that moment, another tiny man dressed in a blue jerkin and black leggings joined the first.

Josiah caught his breath. Littlekins! He had met up with the tiny folk before. While on a quest to seven castles for King Emmanuel, the Littlekins had captured him and taken him to their village to be tried before a diminutive magistrate known as Lord Careless. Josiah recognized the little man in green as Envy, the Littlekin who had gotten him into trouble.

He quietly led the mare behind a tree, tied her, and then crept through the woods toward the two tiny men. “It will take a farm wagon to carry it back to the village,” Envy was saying. “Why don’t you go back into town for a wagon? I’ll stay here and guard the egg.”

“Nay, I shall stay and guard the egg while you go for the wagon,” his companion argued.

“Discontent, listen to me. I found the egg, so I will stay and guard it. You fetch the wagon.”

“I am a better swordsman than you,” Discontent retorted, “so I shall remain to guard the egg. You shall fetch the wagon.”

Envy snorted in derision. “You? A better swordsman than I? Surely you jest, knave.”

“I’ll match steel with you any time you’re ready,” the tiny man in blue replied hotly. “I’m your better, and you know it. Now, fetch the wagon while I stand guard.”

“You’re not even wearing your sword, you pompous little puff of wind,” Envy countered. “I found the egg, so I will guard it. Now, make haste and bring the wagon.”

Envy and Discontent argued and argued while Josiah listened in amusement to their angry exchanges. When it seemed that they were about to come to blows, he stepped from behind the tree. “There will be no need to fetch a wagon, little men,” he said, mockingly. “The egg is mine. I am taking it back to my castle.”

Envy screamed with rage. “Liar! We found the egg, and you have no claim to it! Stand back, you over-sized buffoon! The egg belongs to us, and you shall not touch it.”

Josiah laughed scornfully. He leaned down and placed one finger against the little man’s chest, knocking him over backwards. Envy scrambled to his feet, hopping up and down in fury. “You have no claim to the egg!” he screamed in a voice shrill with rage. “Do not touch it! I found it first and I claim it for the village!”

“The egg was given to me by the rightful owners, who have had it in their family for generations,” the young prince replied contemptuously. “You did not find it, for it already belongs to me. I left it here under the tree and I have come back to reclaim it.” Josiah reached for the egg.

“I say again, the egg is ours and you are to leave it alone,” the furious Littlekin asserted, leaping in front of the egg with his arms folded across his tiny chest in a gesture of defiance. Discontent joined him, glaring furiously up at Josiah.

The young prince laughed and easily pushed the tiny men to one side. “Move out of the way, Littlekins. The egg is mine.”

A look of terror crossed Discontent’s face. He leaped backwards, pointing skyward and screaming, “Beware of the falling branch!”

Josiah leaped backwards and rolled to one side in a valiant attempt to escape the danger of the falling limb. He landed sprawling in the grass. Raising himself to his knees, he looked for the fallen branch, but there was none. “There’s no cause for alarm,” he chided the Littlekin. “No branch is—”

He stopped in mid-sentence, staring at the spot where the dragon’s egg had rested. The egg and the Littlekins were gone. He leaped to his feet.

The dragon’s egg was making its way through the brush beyond the tree. He darted forward. Grunting with the effort, the two tiny men were carrying the egg, moving as fast as their little legs could go. “Oh, no, you don’t!” Josiah cried, reaching down for the egg.

He was too late. The dragon’s egg dropped out of sight.

Josiah fell to his knees and lunged forward, parting the weeds with his hands. To his dismay, he found that the Littlekins had managed to push the precious egg into a badger’s hole. He dropped to his belly in the weeds and peered into the darkness of the burrow.

The hole angled down for eight or ten inches, and then leveled out into a horizontal tunnel. Four feet into the burrow, the two tiny men stood in front of the egg, laughing at him. “The egg is ours, buffoon,” Envy taunted. “Try to take it from us now.”

Josiah reached into the burrow as far as he could, but could feel nothing. The Littlekins and the egg were just out of reach. He gritted his teeth in frustration. As small as the Littlekins were, he was powerless to take the dragon’s egg from them.

“I’ll get you when you come out,” he raged, cupping his hands to his mouth and shouting into the hole in an effort to intimidate his tiny adversaries. “You cannot stay in there forever. When I get my hands on you, I’ll squash you like ticks. Now give me the egg.”

“Words are worthless, big one,” Discontent jeered. “You have your words but we have the egg.”

Trembling with rage, Josiah found a dead branch and carried it back to the badger den. He thrust it into the hole as far as he could reach, but felt nothing. Taunts and laughter rewarded his efforts. Removing the branch, he knelt and peered into the tunnel. The Littlekins had moved the dragon’s egg safely out of reach.

“Keep the egg!” he shouted into the hole. “I’m returning to the castle. But the next time I see you, I’ll squash you both like bugs.” He walked across to his horse, mounted, and rode from the clearing to give the impression that he was leaving. A hundred yards from the tree, he stopped, tied the mare to a sturdy sapling, and quietly crept back to the entrance of the burrow. Noiselessly, he sank to a sitting position in the weeds.

I’ll wait here until they think I’m gone, he told himself with gleeful satisfaction, and then grab them when they bring the egg out. No wretched Littlekins are going to outsmart me!

Half an hour later, he was still waiting. He had heard nothing from the two tiny men in the burrow. At last, impatient to be on his way, he leaned down and peered into the hole. The tunnel was empty; the Littlekins and the egg were gone. He stared, unable to believe his eyes. That’s impossible, he thought. They could not have taken the egg from the burrow without me seeing them. I’ve been right here the whole time.

Peering into the darkness of the burrow for a second time, he spotted a coin-sized circle of light and realized that he was seeing daylight. The burrow had a second entrance! He leaped to his feet and raced to the other end of the burrow. He groaned as he found the second entrance. Tiny footprints and trampled grass confirmed what he had suspected: Envy and Discontent had pushed the egg out through the second entrance. Tiny footprints and a parallel set of wagon wheel tracks six inches apart led from the opening and disappeared into the brush. A tiny wagon had carted the precious egg away.

He stood slowly to his feet. Outwitted by the Littlekins! The shame of it raged throughout his being, frustrating and angering him. “The egg is mine,” he growled softly, “and no Littlekin is going to take it from me. I’ll do whatever it takes to get it back.”

The wagon tracks! They would lead him to the Littlekins, and to the egg!

Dropping to his knees in the grass, he began to follow the tracks left by the passing of the miniature wagon. The tracks led through a dense thicket—which was painful going for Josiah—and down a gentle slope. The young prince crawled on hands and knees as he hunted for the little men and the wagon. When he reached the edge of a trickle of water that was too small to properly be called a stream, he lost the tracks entirely. It was as if the wagon had disappeared into thin air.

Finally, after searching for several anxious moments, he picked up the trail again when the tracks crossed a bare patch of sandy soil. He followed them around a huge boulder, and, to his surprise, found the wagon.

The tiny wagon was parked in the shade of the boulder. Hitched to the wagon was a yearling rabbit. The egg rested in the back of the wagon, completely filling the bed. Envy and Discontent sat side by side on the narrow seat, totally unaware of Josiah’s presence. “We can’t just come driving into the village with it,” Discontent was saying. “The others would try to take it from us.”

“Let’s leave the wagon here until we have talked with Lord Careless,” Envy replied. “Once we have made proper claim to the egg, we can safely bring it into town and no one will dare try to seize it.”

“One of us should stand guard.”

“Perhaps,” Envy replied. “Why don’t you stand guard while I go file a claim with Lord Careless?”

“Hardly!” the other snorted. “Do you think I’m going to stay here while you lay claim to the egg? I know you, Envy. You’ll file in your own name and leave me out.” He looked slyly at his companion. “I’ll go and you stay.”

“Buttermilk!” Envy retorted angrily. “Do you take me for a fool? I’m not about to let you lay claim to the egg while I stay here with the wagon.”

“Then I’d venture to say that we are at a stalemate, since neither of us will trust the other. Who will go and lay claim to the egg?”

The Littlekins sat in silence as they pondered the problem. After several minutes, Envy brightened. “We’ll both go!”

Discontent frowned. “And leave the egg here?”

Prince Josiah stepped around the edge of the boulder. “Why don’t I stay and guard the egg while you both go,” he said, triumphantly, laughing when both Littlekins jumped with fright at the sound of his voice. “The dragon’s egg is mine, little men. Thank you for guarding it for me.” He reached for the egg.

“Hi-Yee!” Envy cracked his tiny whip, and the rabbit leaped forward. The wagon bounced over the rough sod, taking the egg with it.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Josiah cried. Leaping forward, he caught the wagon and jerked it to a standstill. Envy and Discontent were catapulted from the wagon seat and tumbled head over heels. The rabbit crouched, trembling with fear.

Josiah retrieved the dragon’s egg from the wagon. Envy scrambled to his feet. “Thief! Leave the egg where it is, I say!”

In reply, the young prince drew back his foot and kicked with all his might, snapping the traces and splintering the wagon into a thousand pieces. The rabbit, now free, dashed for cover. The Littlekins howled with rage.

Clutching the precious egg to his bosom, Josiah hurried to his horse. A deep sense of satisfaction flooded his being. He had bested the little men after all, and the dragon’s egg was his again. He would not have been so pleased with himself had he realized that he had just walked into a trap cleverly set by two of Argamor’s most capable agents.