Steven George & the Terror
3
Soldier
IN THE MORNING, they had still not determined which direction they were to go, but before they could begin arguing about the matter, the stillness of the country was broken by a whistled tune. Xandros the donkey was the first to hear it and alerted the couple with his bray. The tune was not a merry tune, nor particularly sad. It was a tune punctuated by measured footsteps tramping on the path through the forest. The tune was a marching tune.
“Now, here comes a reason to have taken the south path,” Steven muttered under his breath.
Selah smiled smugly as they awaited the approach of the marchers. Soon three soldiers marched into view and came to a halt at the edge of Steven’s camp. The leading soldier walked directly up to Steven.
“Are you Steven George the Dragonslayer?” he asked gruffly.
A truly clever and quick-witted man might have made up another name on the spot, but Steven was not clever and quick-witted enough to lie to the soldier.
“I am Steven George, sometimes called Dragonslayer, but the truth is that I didn’t really…”
“Doesn’t matter,” said the soldier. “Never met a dragon. Never want to. It’s just a name.”
The fire where Steven had been cooking breakfast suddenly flared to life, startling the soldiers. Steven spared a glance at Selah who smiled demurely.
“Well, how can I help you?” Steven asked.
“Steven George the Dragonslayer,” intoned the sergeant in his best heraldic voice, “you are summoned to the presence of Montague Magnus the Fourth, King and Liege of Sylgale, Puissant Paragon of Mariria, and the Simple Pride of Arining, to dine at the King’s table and regale our monarch with tales of your adventures; for which His Royal Highness has promised you just compensation and opportunity for magnanimous reward.”
The sergeant then turned to look at his two men, who briefly consulted with each other and then nodded back to the sergeant. It was obvious that the poor soldier was not used to delivering decrees from the King and had been practicing on his comrades in arms for as long as they had been on the road.
Agreed that he had delivered the message correctly, the soldiers began to sniff the air.
“Is that a stew cooking on your fire?” asked the sergeant hungrily.
“It is,” said Selah coming forward. “We had rabbit for dinner and made the rest into a stew this morning. Would you care to join us?”
As hungrily as the men gazed toward the fire, the sergeant still demurred.
“Now, we couldn’t eat rabbits that were poached from the King’s lands,” he said. “It’s a crime and you may be punished when the King is told. We have rations we can eat.”
“Really?” asked Selah. “And where are the King’s lands?”
“Oh, all this forest is the King’s,” said the sergeant. “Anything caught within it is his.”
“Well, that settles it,” Selah said with finality. “These rabbits were caught in the field here, not within the King’s forest. Surely now you can join us to eat.” The soldiers consulted with each other quietly, then the sergeant turned again to Madame Selah Welinska and bowed.
“Seeing as no rabbits were caught in the King’s forest, there can be no harm in our accepting your invitation, Lady. We would be most delighted to dine with you,” he said as respectfully as possible. “And there need be no report or mention of what didn’t happen should any soldier appear before the King, neither.”
With that the soldiers dropped their packs and disassembled their mess kits, standing at attention in line next to the fire as Selah dished out stew. They fell to eating with the appetite of soldiers on a long march. When they were scraping out the bottom of their plates, one of the other soldiers—who looked as much like the other as twins—spoke to Selah.
“Begging your pardon, lady,” he said to her. “But would you be the dragon-lady spoken of in so many stories?”
The sergeant rapped the young soldier on the head and reprimanded him sharply for his impudence. Therefore, none of the soldiers noticed the fiery look that Selah gave to Steven.
“So, I’m spoken of in many stories, am I?” she began. “Pray tell, what do these stories say?”
“Well, now, ‘many’ is a relative term. When a man has heard only two, one is many of them. And that was just hearsay. The boy meant no insult, Madame,” said the sergeant. “We were given specific instructions on how to identify the dragonslayer. We were told that he travels in the company of a beautiful lady that was sometimes called the dragon-lady. Personally, I never met nobody who would dare to call her that to her face. It was of no more significance than the mention of a donkey. It was how we were told to identify Steven George the Dragonslayer.”
“And does the King’s summons extend to the dragon-lady and the donkey?”
“I ain’t saying they wouldn’t be welcomed in the court, but the King made no mention of inviting the lady and the donkey. Not that the King would ever presume on her nor neglect to mention her. ’Twas an urgent summons for the Dragonslayer only.”
“Good,” she said with finality that startled Steven. He could not mistake the fact that she looked determinedly down the southbound road.
“We should start back,” the soldier said. “If you would be so kind as to accompany us, Steven George the Dragonslayer?”
Steven was not ready to make this decision. He could see that Madame Selah Welinska was still determined to travel south. He needed to have time to convince her to go with him.
“How many steps is it to the King’s court?” Steven asked the sergeant.
“How many steps?” the sergeant asked. “Now I don’t rightly know. It is three days’ march back the way we came through the forest.”
“Three days and you cannot kill any game to eat?” Steven asked.
“We have rations.”
“I don’t,” Steven continued. “What do you say we spend the day hunting here in the prairie fields where there is an abundance of rabbits and an occasional deer? Then we can prepare roast meats for the journey tomorrow.”
“That sounds all right,” said one of the soldiers. Steven could not tell if it was the one who had spoken before.
“Now, just a minute,” said the sergeant. “We need to get the message to the King that the Dragonslayer is approaching. Otherwise, half the soldiers in the kingdom will continue to be out on the road looking for him.”
“Are more looking for me than you?” Steven asked incredulously.
“Oh yes, sir,” said the sergeant. “The first ones went out two weeks ago. We were sent out just a few days ago. They are searching in every direction for you. I’m not saying they aren’t searching the south road as well.”
Steven contemplated what this might mean, as the sergeant turned to his men.
“Now you two will have to double-time back to the castle and I will stay and escort this party back at their pace. Our orders was to treat them kindly, but we have got to get word back. You two got full bellies now, so get going. You should be able to get there by nightfall tomorrow and tell them to get things ready.”
There was considerable grumbling, and at last Selah packed the men a few strips of dried venison from their stores and told them how to make a savory stew out of it. Soon the two were gone.
“Wouldn’t one of them have traveled back faster than two?” asked Steven.
“Soldiers don’t travel alone,” said the sergeant. “I’m not saying they’re simple, but it takes both of those two to equal one good man.”
“But that means you are alone,” said Steven.
“No, not exactly,” said the sergeant. “I’m with you.”
“But I may not choose to go to the King’s court,” Steven said.
“Now, I can’t force you to come to the King’s banquet table,” said the sergeant. “You are not presently under arrest. I’m merely here to escort you and protect you from the forest bandits. So, if you choose not to go to the King, then I’ll just have to go with you.”
Selah snorted next to the wagon in a very unladylike way. Steven decided that it was best to get the sergeant out in the field hunting rather than talking in camp.
“I found the rabbits just at that rise,” he said. “Why don’t you go set a couple of traps and I’ll get my bow.”
He winked at the sergeant and nodded over his shoulder toward Selah as if to indicate that he wanted time alone with her. In a trice, the sergeant perceived his meaning and said loudly that he would be just “over there,” where Steven could join him. He was no more than out of earshot when Steven turned to Selah.
“Don’t even ask,” said Selah as Steven opened his mouth. “I will not be traveling the north road to a walled castle through the lands of a king who thinks the free game of the world is his personal property. You go and pay homage or be honored or whatever the mad monarch wants. We’ll meet up again later.”
“Where and when will we meet, Madame?” asked Steven. “How will I ever find you again?”
“How did you find me the first time?” answered the dragon-lady. “One day I will be in your path and you will find me.”
“When?”
“Steven, how long have we traveled together?” asked Selah.
“Thousands of steps over many seasons,” Steven answered.
“You must learn to tell time and distance like other people,” Selah laughed. “It has been seven years. It seems like it would be a good idea to travel our own roads for a time and see if we still like each other.”
“Like each other?” asked Steven. “But I love you!”
“Then our love should be stronger when we meet again.”
“But I will be an old man,” Steven lamented.
“Look at you, Steven George the Dragonslayer,” Selah laughed. “You are younger now than when we first met. At this rate, if we stayed together, you would be in a short tunic playing with colored stones. Being apart, maybe you will be as old as you were when we met the first time!”
“I shall always miss you and mourn our parting,” Steven said.
“You shall always wonder if I ever really existed or was just a dream,” Selah smiled. “Ah, Steven, it is truly better if we walk our own paths for a while before we kill each other. Have you not noticed how hot our arguments have become? This time of cooling off will do us both great good. Now go help your poor soldier capture a rabbit or there will be no supper.”
“If I turn, you will leave,” Steven said.
“Not before you tell me about your vest,” she answered. “Remember?”
Steven kissed Selah, Then he turned, retrieved his bow from the wagon, and went to hunt with the sergeant.
After they had cleaned the game and feasted on a roast haunch of venison with the remainder smoking over the fire pit, Selah began to dance. The sergeant was rapt with the hypnotic movements of the dance. Selah’s gestures wove a spell that held even Steven speechless for a time. But for the soldier, the trance was deep, and when she stopped dancing, he began to snore.
“Now,” said Selah to Steven as she snuggled into his arms, “about that one you owe me.”
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at nathan@nathaneverett.com.
