Eye of the Oracle

BOOK 2: TRANSFORMATION


Chapter 1

A NEW BEGINNING


But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord. (2 Corinthians 3:18)

Circa AD 62


Makaidos flew high over the parched valley, buoyed by a hot, arid updraft. Sunshine energized every muscle and sharpened his vision. The conditions had been ideal bright light and clear skies a perfect day to satisfy his rekindled sense of purpose and fulfill this duty to which he had been called. Accomplishing such an important task had made the day complete, and the sun’s slow descent into the reddening western sky gave notice that his successful mission was drawing to a close.

He scanned the landscape far below the outskirts of the port city with its single-story huts and trading posts; scrub trees lining a dry riverbed that wound its way to the sea; and, finally, a caravan of camels, horses, and pack mules in a snaking line following what had been, before the drought, a shallow but dependable stream. Still, the sandy bed provided an unobstructed route to the docking port, making it a well-traveled path, but also a haunt for highwaymen on the prowl for easy prey.

Makaidos snorted at the thought. The only easy prey would be anyone who tried to attack Joseph and his company. The cup of Christ would be safe if this dragon had anything to say about it. A couple of days earlier, just the sight of a patrol dragon had kept a small band of human predators at bay, but now the hint of a greater danger pricked Makaidos’s senses.

He circled lower and shadowed the company. Joseph rode high on the lead camel. The cup, the Holy Grail, as he called it, was probably tucked away in his saddlebag. He never let it out of his reach.

As they approached the first trading post, water muddied the riverbed pathway. The animals slogged through it, trudging closer to the sloped edge to find drier ground. A tall, bearded man at the post nodded to a stout woman next to him, a lady with a heavily painted face and at least a dozen gold and silver bangles on each wrist. She scurried down a path toward a large tent, her long gray skirts raising plumes of dust.

Makaidos’s danger signal flamed. He glided toward the caravan and flew in tight ellipses around the travelers. The bearded man glanced up at him, glaring at first, but his frown transformed into a bright smile as he waved his arms. “Stop! Stop and rest! Eat! Drink! Take your leisure!”

Joseph signaled for his company to stop, and he laid the reins on his lap. “Greetings in the name of the Lord Christ. I take it that you have lodging for myself and my fellow travelers? We must board a ship for Italy just after dawn.”

The man pointed at the large tent. “At my inn! The city is crowded and noisy, but out here you will find quiet and rest. The docks are not far, so you will have plenty of time to embark on your ship in the morning.”

“Very well.” Joseph climbed down from his camel, and the man immediately reached for the saddlebag. Joseph slapped his hand over it. “I will take care of this. You may see to the other bags.”

The man slid his hand away from the saddle and nodded. “As you wish. I will signal my helpers.” He glanced back at the tent and let out a shrill whistle. A man emerged through the opening, then a second, a third, a fourth, and a fifth. Ten more men joined the others and dashed toward Joseph, some waving curved swords and dark oval shields, others fixing arrows to bows.

Makaidos swooped down, his wings outstretched and his teeth bared, fire blasting from both nostrils. He aimed the twin jets at the tall, bearded man, incinerating him in a breath, then landed and turned his fire toward the attacking band. Six arrows penetrated his wall of flames and zinged into his body, five clanking on his armor and one pricking a gap between the scales on his chest. “Joseph,” he shouted. “Run for cover on the other side of the riverbed!”

As the travelers dashed to the trees on the opposite bank, Makaidos cremated the remaining attackers, leaving more than a dozen heaps of ash smoldering under the baking sun.

“Makaidos!” a voice called. “Help!”

Makaidos jerked his neck around. More attackers swarmed toward the travelers on the other bank! He leaped into the air, but a rope flew his way and snagged a back leg. A second rope caught his other back leg. Clusters of men clinging to each rope emerged from the bushes and pulled against him with all their might. Snorting a quick fiery blast, Makaidos burned the lines and launched toward the new band of highwaymen. More arrows pinged his armor and fell harmlessly to the ground, but one plunged deep into his foreleg, drawing a stream of blood.

Ignoring the pain, Makaidos landed and blew pinpoint lines of fire, igniting the villains as they fought hand to hand or sword to sword with Joseph and his company. Within seconds, the battle was over. Three attackers fled on foot, dropping their weapons behind them. Makaidos stretched out his wings to follow, but Joseph grasped his foreleg, straining to hold the dragon back. “No, my friend. You are injured. It is time to rest and recover.”

Joseph’s arm brushed against one of the protruding arrows. Makaidos cringed and fell to his haunches.

“Those cowards won’t be back anytime soon.” Joseph stooped next to the wound. He pushed his thumbs against the adjacent scales, and his deeply creased face contorted. “Hmmm. It is not shallow. We will need to get it out soon. The edges of your scales are already cutting through the arrow’s shaft.”

“Go ahead and pull it,” Makaidos said. “I heal quickly.”

As his fellow travelers gathered around, Joseph nodded at one of them. “Lazarus, take Trophimus and whomever else you need and find suitable lodging.” Lazarus bowed and laid a saddlebag at Joseph’s feet.

Joseph stood and gripped the shaft. “I am glad God sent you, but I would like to know why you risk your life for our cause. Your faith is the most unusual I have ever seen.”

“My family and I want to follow wherever you go.” Makaidos felt the pressure on the arrow and spoke through clenched teeth. “You have taught me so much about the Messiah, but I need to learn more.”

“Yet when will you learn that I am human, and you are a dragon?” Joseph gritted his teeth and pulled the arrow, grunting, until it finally came out. He held it up for Makaidos to see, a bloody shaft with a pointed, barbed end. He nodded at it, his white hair blowing in the dry, dusty breeze. “I have told you many times that Jesus bled and died to save human souls. Of course, it’s an argument from silence, but I have my doubts as to whether the atonement includes dragons.”

A woman removed her white headscarf and tied it around Makaidos’s leg wound. Makaidos nuzzled her shoulder gently. “Thank you, Salome.” He raised his head and twitched his ears toward Joseph. “Dragons have souls. We must. The soul of Arramos has gone to another place, for I cannot believe the evil dragon who calls himself my father really holds the true spirit of Arramos. And I cannot believe the Maker would put a soul in me and not provide a way to save it.”

“If, indeed, it needs saving.” Joseph laid his hands on Makaidos’s chest just below another protruding arrow. “Your race was not included in Adam’s curse, and I have never known a soul as spotless as yours.”

Makaidos braced for another round of pain. “My mistakes have cost me my eldest son and daughter as well as others in my brood. My eyes were too set on the Maker’s commands, and I missed the signals that might have helped me see the rebellion before it was too late.”

Joseph yanked out the arrow, but this jolt was far less painful.

“Dear Makaidos,” Joseph said with a soft chuckle. “Listen to yourself. Too obedient to God? Might have helped? These are not sins; they are limitations. You cannot see and know all. Don’t condemn yourself for lacking God’s attributes.”

Salome borrowed a headscarf from another woman and blotted the chest wound. Makaidos cringed. Now it hurt! He exhaled, trying to ignore the pain as he stretched his neck toward Joseph and lowered his voice. “You have proven that I still have more to learn. Let me come with you to the islands of the North and protect you until you find a safe place to house the Holy Grail. Then I will come back and bring my family to live wherever you dwell.”

Joseph raised the second arrow, blunted on the tip and less bloody. “Of course you may come, and I welcome your protective shield. Who am I to tell you what to do?”

“My wounds are minor,” Makaidos said, pushing his weight down on his bandaged leg. “I will be ready at dawn.”

Joseph shook his head and laughed. “As old as you are, you still remind me of a young man I encountered in Ephesus Timothy, a disciple of Paul the apostle.”

Makaidos rotated his ears. “How so?”

“Well, he is enthusiastic and wishes to follow his mentor wherever he goes.” Joseph raised a finger. “But he is also learning the same lesson you must learn.”

“What lesson is that?”

“One that I must drive into your brain so you will never forget it.” Joseph spread an arm out toward the sea. “Since we are sailing on a Greek vessel tomorrow, I want you to remember a Greek word. Autarkeia.”

“Autarkeia? What does that mean?”

“It means ‘contentment’.” Joseph stooped, reached into his saddlebag, and withdrew a small wooden goblet. He held it in his palms as if swirling liquid inside. “A vessel that seems destined for common use can transform into a great treasure when touched by the finger of God. Whether dragon or human, we must be content with who we are and be patient as we wait to see what God will make of us.” He laid a gentle hand on the dragon’s long, narrow jaw. “You are not human, Makaidos. Be content with the fact that God made you a dragon for a reason. Rest in God’s will for you, serve him with all your might, and he will transform you into what he wants you to be.”

Makaidos lowered his head and closed his eyes. The word did pierce his brain, painful and deep like one of the arrows, yet there were no scales to blunt its penetration. He sighed and nodded. “Autarkeia. . . . I will remember, Master Joseph.”

“Excellent.” Joseph patted Makaidos’s good leg. “It will be a pleasure having dragons in the northern islands.”

Circa AD 490


Morgan bent forward and stroked the man’s rugged chin, her eyes flaming red. “Are we agreed then?” she asked. “Your perfect allegiance to me in exchange for immortality?”

“Without question, my lady.” The man, sitting straight on a low footstool, picked up a black helmet from his lap and tucked it under his mail-clad arm. “Although the king has outlawed dragon hunting, I trust that you will prepare the way.”

Grasping the hilt of a beautiful sword, she leaned back in her throne-like chair. The dim chamber echoed every squeak of antique wood, the sounds bouncing off an open balcony encircling the airy lower floor. A dank odor of disuse hung in the air, as if neither door nor window had been opened in years.

As Morgan fingered the sword’s hilt, lantern light glimmered on the shiny, etched blade. “I will prepare the way. Makaidos and his followers have had over four hundred years to endear themselves to the people of the North, but the spirits of the Nephilim are guiding another brood of dragons to our shores. Goliath and his company will repulse human hearts with their, shall we say, onerous behavior. In any case, I will personally see to Arthur’s enchantment. The laws against dragon hunting will soon be only a memory.”

The man rose to his feet and set the helmet next to a chessboard at the end of a long table. “And what of Merlin? He is not so easily enchanted.”

“Leave Merlin to me.” She ran her thumb along the edge of the blade and smiled. “There are many ways to skin an old gray fox.”

The man reached for one of the chess pieces, but Morgan slammed the flat of the sword on the table. “Don’t touch that!”

The man jumped back and smoothed out the banner draped over his mail shirt. “Oh! Sorry . . . well . . .” He cleared his throat nervously. “My squire has been of great service to me. Shall I tell him of our plans?”

Morgan pulled the sword back and propped it against the chair’s headrest. “Only that you are ridding the world of the dragon menace. Tell him nothing of our plot to overthrow Arthur until the time comes. He will gladly fill his moneybags and enjoy unnaturally long life while keeping his questions to himself.”

The man bowed. “I am confident of that, my lady, and we both look forward to serving you.”

“Of course you do.” Morgan stood and angled the blade toward the chess pieces. “As long as you play this game well, your rewards will be great.”

The man swallowed hard and backed away. “I will play it well. I do not wish to consider the alternative.”

With a deft stroke, Morgan sliced the chessboard’s black knight vertically in half. “No,” she said, glaring at him. “The alternative is not pleasant . . . not pleasant at all.”

Circa AD 492


Edward shivered. Rarely had it been so cold this early in the season. He shifted his feet, trying to stay as quiet as possible while listening to the generals who surrounded the king, but the freezing rain spattering the fallen leaves sounded like a hundred slabs of sizzling bacon, drowning out the conversation. Walking on tiptoes as he strained to see the king, he wedged his way between two soldiers. They stank badly, but at least they shielded him from the cold, wet breeze.

He tightened his scabbard belt and folded his arms in behind his shield. The lining his mother had sewn into his tunic really felt good now. She had warned of an early winter, claiming that her aching bunions and arthritic elbow agreed with the forecast of the early migrating birds. She was right, as usual. Now if only he could prove himself to the king and move up in the ranks, he could afford to send some money back to her for medicines and a thicker cloak. Ever since Father died, sewing soldiers’ uniforms had been their source of income, and that barely put food on the table.

He elbowed to the front line of soldiers and settled next to a burly man who smelled even worse than the others. But it was worth it. Now he could see the king sitting on a rotting stump in the center of his ring of advisors. With his arms propped on his knees, King Arthur leaned his sword against his shoulder. He spoke loudly enough to be heard over the winter storm. “I know of Goliath’s evil deeds, Sir Devin, but I trust King Makaidos. He did not teach his son to murder and steal.”

Sir Devin nodded with a slight tilt of his head, his pupils barely visible in his narrowed eyes. “Too much trust makes kingdoms fall, Your Majesty.” His words slipped out through clenched teeth, each one tempered by the diplomacy due a knight of his order. “Your faith resides in coats of scales while you snub your nose at your own kind, which could lead to dishonorable, even rebellious, behavior.” He dipped his head again. “Your Worship.”

Edward fumed. How could the king put up with Devin’s sarcasm? Sure, the knight had good reason to hate dragons, but his irreverence deserved a date with the ax man.

Merlin pounded the end of his walking staff on the leaf-strewn ground. “Sire, a man who breathes rumors of treachery had better back his words with more evidence than his own hot air.”

Edward clenched his fist. That’s telling him, Merlin!

Devin swept his arm toward a village on a nearby hill. “Didn’t Goliath’s slaughter of six orphans convince you? Isn’t that enough evidence for us all to hate the very air they breathe?”

“You only hate what you fear,” Merlin retorted. “If you weren’t such a coward, you would learn that many dragons are trustworthy.”

Devin sneered at him. “It’s easy to feign courage when you hold the dragon’s bane, but you won’t even tell us what it is. Every dragon seems to tremble when you walk near.”

“That will remain my secret, for I am bound by a covenant from Noah himself to protect what he has passed down to me.”

“Merlin,” Devin said with a condescending glare, “having heard you recite your pedigree too many times, we are painfully aware of your prophetic heritage.” He turned to face the king. “My point still stands. The seed of murder had to come from somewhere, and Goliath’s father is the sower.”

“And God himself created Satan and all the demons.” Merlin pointed his staff at Devin. “Where did your seed come from?”

Devin grasped the hilt of his sword. “Listen, old man, you ”

“Enough!” Arthur rose to his feet. “In a time of crisis, what might happen must yield to what is certain to happen. We cannot defeat the barbarian horde without help from the dragons, so there is no real choice in the matter.”

The crowd of soldiers murmured. Edward picked up the words of the closest men. “Fight alongside dragons after so many years? How can we know which ones to trust? And, in any case, who would dare venture a journey near Bald Top to request their aid?”

The king waved a hand toward Devin’s squire. “Palin. I will assign another scribe for the battle. Go and ask Makaidos to come!”

Palin lifted his quill and stared at the king, wide-eyed. “To the dragon’s cave, Sire?” He glanced at Devin, then shifted his gaze back to the king. “I only brought my close combat sword,” he said, patting his scabbard.

Cold sweat dampened Edward’s back. He took one step forward, then hesitated.

The king scowled. “You won’t need a sword, Palin, just ”

Edward cleared his throat and thrust himself into the inner circle. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty.” He stepped up to the king and dropped to one knee. “I will fetch the dragon for you, Sire.” Looking King Arthur in the eye, he tried to keep his voice steady. “He will either come with me or die.”

Arthur smiled and gestured for Edward to rise. “What is your name, young man?”

Edward stood and nodded at the king. “Edward, son of your servant, Edmund.”

“Edmund, the orphan-keeper?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“He told me he named his son Edmund, after himself. Why would you disrespect him by calling yourself by another name?”

Edward nodded again. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I honor my father. I have chosen to take a similar name until I prove myself worthy to carry his.”

“And what would make you worthy? Daring to enter the cave of Makaidos? He is not a danger to you or anyone in my kingdom.”

“No, Your Majesty. I wish to prove myself as a faithful servant to you. A dragon killed my father as he defended the orphanage, so the thought of aligning myself with their kind is abhorrent to me. Yet, I am willing to do your bidding in spite of my hatred of dragons.”

Arthur slid his sword into its scabbard. “Well spoken, young knight, but your father’s murderer was Goliath, not Makaidos.”

Sir Devin patted Edward on the shoulder. “It is said that the sprout never sloughs off its seed, Your Majesty. Edward is brave and honorable, as was his father. Goliath is a murderer, so his father ”

Merlin pushed Devin away with his staff. “You have spilled enough bile, Devin. Let the boy get on with it before we all freeze to death.”

“And before the Saxons return for another attack,” the king added.

The burly man from the circle stepped forward. “I volunteer to accompany him, Sire.” He drew a long sword from his scabbard. “I fear no dragon.”

“Excellent!” the king said. “No one should venture toward Bald Top alone. We will assemble at Chalice Hill as planned and await the dragons.”

Edward frowned. With that huge man at his side, no one would ever give him credit for bringing back Makaidos. Besides, this wide-bodied soldier needed a bath worse than if he had been sprayed by a polecat.

After bowing to the king, Edward turned and stalked away. He could hear the soldier’s heavy footsteps behind him and his deep voice. “Edward, may I suggest the more gradual slope? It makes a wide circuit around the mountain.”

Marching more quickly, Edward held his shield close to his side to keep it from bouncing. “If you’re too old or fat to follow, then take the easy path. I’m going the fastest way.”

“I am not concerned for my sake. Goliath was seen on that slope only yesterday, and if you have never fought a dragon, you’ll need ”

“The faster we get help, the faster we defeat the Saxons.” Edward halted and spun around. “Are you with me, or aren’t you?”

The knight’s thick mustache lifted as he spoke. “I am with you, Edward, to be sure, but you are not showing proper respect to an elder soldier.” He moved his shield to his other arm and peeled back his sleeve, revealing a tattoo on his hairy wrist. “And one of higher rank.” The black ink was bloodstained and crude, but clearly displayed the insignia of a captain.

Edward bowed. “I had no idea. I beg your pardon, Captain, uh . . .”

“Barlow,” he replied, placing a hand on his chest. “Winston Barlow of Hickling Manor.”

“Captain Barlow. I apologize for my rudeness. Your manner of dress didn’t match what I normally see in an officer, nor did your . . . uh . . . your odor.”

“Completely understandable, young man.” Barlow strode forward through the underbrush, scaling the steepening slope with ease as Edward followed. “When I go to battle,” he continued, “I don’t stay back and shout at my men like a prissy schoolmarm. I charge with them on the front lines. As you might expect, that can be a messy business, and we have not had time for baths in almost a month.”

“I see, and again, I beg your forgiveness.” Edward had to hustle to keep up with the huge man who showed no signs of slowing down as he leapt from rock to rock like a big mountain goat. “Captain Barlow, I don’t mean to question your directional skills, but we just missed the path that goes around the summit of Bald Top.”

“You’re the one who wanted to get there quickly.” Barlow grabbed a sapling and hoisted himself up to a ledge, ripping out the tree and its roots in the process. “And the shortest way to the den of Makaidos is straight over the top.”

Edward scrambled up to the ledge, using his shield for leverage, and reached the Captain’s side. “But we would be exposed. If we skirt the top we could ”

Barlow halted and pressed a finger into Edward’s chest. “If you fear Goliath, then go around, and I’ll scale the top. If Goliath accosts me, then all the better for you. At the very least, I will distract him and clear your path to Makaidos.”

Edward clutched the hilt of his sword. “And lose my chance to slay Goliath and gain honor in the king’s eyes? Never!”

“Honor?” Barlow pushed him away. “This isn’t about honor.” He turned and marched up the slope.

Edward ran after him, his cheeks now blazing. What a fool he had been! He sounded like a self-serving mercenary, not a humble knight! Grabbing a fallen branch from the undergrowth, he pushed the end into the ground and hoisted himself up the hill. It was time for more action and fewer words.

When they neared the summit, the forest ended abruptly, revealing a huge, grassy field that served as Bald Top’s treeless dome. Flakes of snow mixed with stinging sleet, and the gusty breeze whipped the icy mix into their faces.

Barlow withdrew his sword. “Dragons can sense danger, so Goliath likely knows we’re in his territory. There is no reason to dawdle.” The hefty knight broke into a trot, his chain mail jingling as his feet pounded the grass.

Edward dropped his stick and slid out his own sword, balancing his body between his weapon and shield as he jogged stride for stride behind the captain. His eyes darted all around at the dreary skies, and his boots crunched a thin coat of ice pellets that salted the ankle-high grass. The clamor drowned out any hope of hearing the wings of an approaching dragon.

As the forest on the opposite edge drew nearer, Barlow stopped and raised his sword high. “Back to back!” he shouted.

Edward swung around and pressed his back against Barlow’s. He scanned the blanket of clouds but could find no dragon. “Where is he?”

“Shields up!” Barlow yelled, crouching low. “Now!”

Edward crouched with him, his heart pounding. “I don’t see him!”

“If you don’t raise your shield, you will never use it again!”

Edward thrust his shield up over his face and tucked his body into a ball. Suddenly a wave of fire splashed around the edges of his shield, so hot, it felt like his hair had caught fire.

“Flatten!” Barlow yelled. “The tail is next.”

“Flatten?” Edward repeated. “What do you mean?”

Barlow’s heavy body flattened Edward face down on the slushy grass. Then, the weight suddenly lifted. Edward flipped over. Barlow was flying away, the strap of his shield caught in the spiny tail of a dragon!

“Let go of me!” Barlow shouted. “Or I’ll feed your bones to my dog!”

Edward jumped to his feet, snatching up his sword and shield in one motion. With the dragon’s tail swinging violently, Barlow swung with it, his arm apparently stuck in the shield’s strap. The knight clawed viciously at the dragon’s tail with his free hand as he continued to shout, but the wind garbled his words.

With his sword at the ready, Edward pivoted in place, his gaze locked on Goliath. The dragon swooped low and tried to slap his rider against the ground, but he only managed to dredge a Barlow-sized divot.

As they zipped toward the edge of the hill, Barlow shouted, “Complete the mission! I will take care of this overgrown butterfly!” The dragon glided over the trees and disappeared from sight.

Edward gasped for breath, his heart pounding in his throat. Seeing Barlow’s fallen sword in the slush, he grabbed it and thrust his own sword into its scabbard. Pivoting again as he scanned the skies, he puffed clouds of vapor into the chilly air. What should he do? He couldn’t abandon his captain, nor could he defy his orders. Either choice seemed dishonorable.

Edward clenched the strap on his shield. This wasn’t about honor.

He ran toward the opposite edge of the hilltop and found a treeless slope. Dropping his shield to the deepening ice, he sat inside it and pushed against the ground until the shield began sliding on its own. He plunged down the hill, pushing Barlow’s sword on either side to dodge stumps and holes as he careened toward a narrow brook in the distance. When he came to a halt at the muddy bank, he jumped out, grabbed his shield, and waded across the water, exchanging swords in his scabbard, feeling much more comfortable with his lighter blade.

A muddy path on the other side led into dense forest, but, for the most part, the trail stayed clear of obstacles. He ran under the shelter of the forest canopy until he came upon a sheer cliff face, a wall of granite with mossy growth in its crevices. As he slowed to examine each dark recess in the cliff, he tried to calm himself. “Okay, the cave’s around here somewhere. Just take it slow and easy. You don’t want Makaidos thinking you’re a danger to him.”

“Are you?” a deep voice called from behind him.

Edward spun around and swung his sword, barely missing the snout of a huge red dragon. The dragon slapped the sword away with his tail. “Has a boy come to try to slay the king of the dragons?”

Edward backed away, trembling. “Ma . . . Makaidos?”

Another voice answered from behind him. “Do not hurt him, my dear. He is harmless.”

Edward spun again. Another dragon, a beige one, sat in his path. He raised his shield, first toward Makaidos, then toward the female. “I . . . I’m not here to slay you. I’m here to ask for help.” He cleared his throat and steadied his voice. “His Majesty, King Arthur, requests that you join him in our battle against the barbarians from the north.”

Makaidos twitched his ears, glancing at Thigocia as he replied to Edward. “With or without riders?”

“Uh . . . I don’t know. The king didn’t say. Does it make a difference?”

“We need riders. Ever since the fall of the tower, I have trained my sons and daughters to follow only the commands of humans when fighting in a group. They would be severely handicapped without experienced riders, and we have had no need to train any riders since before Arthur’s coronation.”

“Then how will we find riders?” Edward asked.

Makaidos moved his head up and down, examining Edward. “How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?”

Edward squared his shoulders. “Eighteen.”

“Old enough. You will begin training immediately.”

“Me?” Edward said, pointing at himself. “Why?”

“Because you are at hand. Do you know anyone else who is brave enough?”

“My best friend, Newman, but he ”

“Then for your first lesson, you will ride Thigocia to send my acceptance to King Arthur. After that, you will pick up Newman and return here. While the two of you are training, I will summon those who are still loyal to me.”

“I am willing,” Edward said, glancing around for his sword, “but won’t we need more riders than just Newman and me?” Finding his weapon, he hoisted it up to his shoulder.

“I know of three retired soldiers who battled from our backs before Arthur’s time. Perhaps they would be willing to relive their glory days. With them and five dragons, we should have enough to defeat a band of savages.”

“Will you also summon Clefspeare?” Thigocia asked. “We could always use a sixth, especially if it is he.”

Makaidos pawed the muddy ground and snorted. “How can I be sure we can trust him?”

“He is not like his father. You know that. And he will not need a rider.”

Makaidos scowled. “Will not accept one, you mean.”

“Let us not go over this again. Not in front of the human. Clefspeare is a great warrior, and his loyalty to you is unquestioned.”

“Very well,” Makaidos said, sighing. “I will ask him to join us.”

Edward stepped between the two dragons. “I beg your pardon, Makaidos. Another knight joined me in this quest to find you, but Goliath captured him with his tail and flew away with him. Is there any way we can conduct a search?”

Makaidos’s eyes flamed. “Captured him with his tail?”

“Yes. His shield got caught ”

“Ahem!”

Edward turned toward the sound. Barlow emerged from the trees, sleeveless and brushing a coat of thistles from his vest. “There is no need to go into details,” he said, his face reddening. “I survived.”

“Captain Barlow! Your chain mail came off?”

“Yes.” Barlow picked a thumb-sized beetle from his undergarment and flicked it away. “The mail caught in the strap, so I stripped it off. Such a pity. That was my best shield.”

“You can ride with Edward,” Thigocia said. “I will take both of you home.”

Barlow gave her a slight bow, apparently too sore to bend lower. “I appreciate your offer, dragoness, but after the ride I’ve been on, I would rather walk.”

Edward pulled Barlow’s sword from his scabbard and handed it to him. “What about Goliath? He’s sure to be looking for you.”

“I will take the long way through the forest,” Barlow said, sliding his sword into its scabbard. “Fortunately, I wore my thick undergarments, so I should not be too uncomfortable.”

Edward clapped Barlow on the shoulder. “Thank you for protecting me. I am forever in your debt.”

“Think nothing of it.” Barlow clenched wrists with Edward. “I’ll look forward to seeing you and the dragons on the front lines.”

As Barlow walked away, Thigocia dipped her head low. “First lesson, a neck mount. It’s the safest and easiest. You will learn other methods later.”

Edward stepped up close to the dragoness’s neck. “Why would I need to mount any other way?”

“Well, it sounds as though Barlow very nearly succeeded with the most difficult maneuver of all, and with Goliath, no less. If I had trained him to perform a tail mount in midflight, he might not be walking home in his underwear.”