Chosen by DaShire

The Queen wants a special rare flower

“Thrust! Guard! Thrust! Guard! Thrust! Hold!”

John almost didn't stop himself from following the pattern his body had been going through the whole morning. Judging by the flurry of cracks and resultant cries from the men behind and beside him, several had fallen prey to the monotony of the morning. If only this sun weren't beating down so hard on us! John's arm began to quiver as he held his wooden sword aloft.

Commander Tallen, or Papa, as he made the men under his command call him, paced up the line. John didn't dare turn his head to look at him, but watched him from the corner of his eye. Every few steps he stopped and lowered his pockmarked face to gaze with his good eye along a man's practice sword. He straightened and held up a pair of fingers high in the air. Two cracks answered his gesture, and a whimper from the man who's sword wasn't level enough for Papa.

Please, arm, stop shaking! Papa's going to give me at least two if you don't stop shaking!

A clap for the next man. 1 finger for the one after that. There's only two more men between me and Papa, he's bound to see my shaking from that distance. He's not going to be satisfied with two, he's going to give-

Bong!

“Guard!” Commander Tallen yelled as he whirled around to gaze at the tower high overhead.

John breathed a sigh of relief. Safe from lashes for now.

Bong!

“Already? Form columns, double time behind me!”

Bong!

Springing to action, John and the rest of the men in the training squad formed columns and sprinted after their commander. Why's purple smoke pouring out of the roof of the central tower? Though there was no doubt that was the question on everyones mind, not a soul dared to voice the query. The whip masters were cracking the ground at the feet of anyone they didn't think was running fast enough.

“Spread out!” Their commander yelled when they arrived at the tower's base. “Shields up! Guard position!”

Before the last man had settled into his place along the line, a skinny boy in silks stepped through the thick wooden door and blew a fanfare on his shiny brass trumpet. A moment more and the Queen Mother's Hellhound, DaShire, strode out from the same door, standing as tall most men there. The left head sniffed the air, sunlight glinting off it's yellow eyes. The right head stared at the men assembled there before it and snarled as it looked up and down the line.

Close behind the Hellhound came a gaunt man in garish patchwork silks of every color possible, from a nauseating green up most of the left leg to a pukish green that ran all along his right side. Several stripes of blue, purple, and orange ran horizontally up his chest with a big red circular patch in the middle of it all. His right sleeve was of the purest white while his left was black as midnight.

But it wasn't the man's clothes that made John shiver, it was the wide smile poking out of the man's silver beard, and the bloodshot saucer eyes he looked at them with.

“Make thy selves neat, your highness comes before thee!” The jester said to the men assembled. His voice carried to everyone's ears like a whisper on the wind, but was clear as if his lips were next yo your ear. A shiver ran down John's back “A wonder for any to see. Now prepare thy selves for the treat!”

The boy blew another fanfare, and the Jester turned to kneel towards the Regal figure emerging from the door.

“Kneel!” Yelled their commander as he dropped to one knee with head bowed. The men hurried to follow suit.

“Rise.” said a soft voice with a musical lilt, almost as if it were being sung.

John blinked in surprise, forgetting himself until he realized nearly everyone else was standing. What is it about that voice that makes my heart rise in anticipation of love, yet quiver in fear at the same moment? He laid his eyes upon his Queen, and all thought washed away from his mind.

She stood beside DaShire, a sapphire ring on the finger that scratched the head between it's yellow eyes gleamed in the sun. She seemed to flow in her purple robe covered with gold embroidery, rather than just stand beside her hellhound.

“I have summoned all of you here for a task, a quest of sorts. Would you young trainees be willing to go on a quest for me, lay down your lives if need be, to bring me back the precious item I desire?”

“Anything for you, my lady.” John heard himself say in unison with those around him. His heart beat faster within his chest, for he knew in this moment he would do anything for the woman that stood before him, even jump off a cliff if it meant it would make her happy, even though something niggled at the back of his mind that something was wrong.

“Your enthusiasm warms my heart.” she replied in that same musical lilt. She brushed the lone shock of silver hair of her otherwise coal colored head behind an ear. “DaShire? Please, pick the three men before us that are most worthy of serving me in the task I have for them.”

The hellhound's yellow eyed head gazed at its lady and bobbed in glee. The head with the red eyes snorted a puff of smoke, and then the beast was trotting toward the men. DaShire stopped before each man and each head sniffed the man's face. Sometimes it bent down to sniff the man's hand as well. Only once did DaShire growl at any of the men, and he fainted straight away.

Soon enough DaShire stood in front of John. The heads sniffed his face for several long seconds, then his hands. Then they came back up and sniffed his face again, each head staring into one of his eyes. Not knowing where to look, John stared at the point where the necks converged on its body. The beast walked behind John and pushed him forward.

“Step forward boy!” Commander Tallen barked. “The hound has chosen you. Stand in front of me, and wipe that grin off your face!”

John walked forward and stood at attention next to his commander, but still faced his Queen. He found that once he looked upon her again, he couldn't take his eyes off her. And now that he wasn't surrounded by the stink of his comrades sweat, he caught a whiff of something sweat. It reminded him of an apple, and a morning after a hard rain, and the field of wild flowers just outside his home village. It was none of those, and yet all of them at the same time. He knew it was coming from his beloved Queen, and his stomach began to flutter.

The Queen Mother's eyes looked him up and down, and John noticed a corner of her mouth curl in the beginnings of a smile. And then her attention was gone, watching the next man as he walked up to stand beside John. After a few moments more a third soldier came to stand on John's other side. John paid them no mind, only noting when they arrived by the way his beloved Queen's gaze turned to each man, sizing him up.

DaShire trotted around them and sat down next to the Queen mother. “Thank you all for coming. Commander, I hope you can forgive this intrusion on your training.”

“Anything for you, mah' lady.” Commander Tallen's voice dropped a few octaves as he said to John and the men on either side of him, “Do well to satisfy the wishes of our Queen boys. If you fail, I'll hunt you down and gut you all myself.”

“Thank you, Commander. These three have been chosen by my loyal DaShire, and are now no longer your concern. Please see to those that still are.”

“My apologies, my Lady.” Commander Tallen turned to face those that remained. “All right you sorry lot! About face! Move move move!”

When the stomping of dozens of boots had faded, the Queen Mother spoke again. “I wish to thank you all for the task you are about to undertake. If you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to. But Ladew Vizer, my advisor and court jester, shall explain to you what needs to be done.”

John's heart beat like a thumping drum in his chest at the thought that he, he, was about to undertake a momentous task to help his Queen. And then Ladew thrust his face into John's, and he couldn't help but recoil from those huge bloodshot eyes.

“Give me a smile! Oh, hee-hee, hoo-hoo, I've got chills thinking of the trial, that awaits the three of you!” Ladew's breath washed over John, and it took a considerable force of will on his part to not retch at the rot and decay that assaulted his nostrils. “The head that wears the crown, is quite heavy indeed. Your task is to find a flower sown, from a most special seed.”

“A flower?” asked the man to John's right.

“Silence, dear boy, or you'll become a dog's toy. Where was I? Oh yes, this flower is splendid and rare, you'll never find another more fair. This trial may not seem hard, except for the guard. Your wooden weapons you may discard. Someone will soon be by to clean the yard. Now follow me to the stair, where we'll find everything you need to wear.”

Ladew Vizer didn't look to see that the three of them were following him, but took off at a jog for the side of the yard that butted up against the mountain. Though unease grew within him at each word uttered by the Jester, he was glad to be rid of his heavy wooden practice sword and shield. His comrades' arms soon joined his on the ground, and they all took off after the Jester, though none of them felt inclined to close the distance between him and them.

Soon they were upon a rundown little shack that John had never noticed before, though after a second thought it didn't seem too odd. I've only been here a couple weeks, and I've been training hard to become a good soldier. I can't notice everything about this place.

The Jester placed a hand upon the door's handle and pulled. It swung easily on hinges that didn't let out any semblance of a squeek, and disappeared into the darkness. John hesitated on the threshold until a torch flared to light a dozen paces in. The torch revealed a room that held nothing, save a deep velvet curtain on the wall that Ladew stood before

“Enter already and shut the door. Or I'll give you all what for!”

John and the other's hurried inside, and the last man behind shut it.

“Now beyond this curtain is a stair. It leads down to a cavern that holds the flower so rare. It's guard is down there, his name is Claw. Beware his jaw.” Ladew burst into giddy laughter, and clutched his belly in his mirth. John wondered whether he should ask what the joke was, even though he knew he wouldn't like it.

“Now avoid Claw, and get her majesty's prize. Don't fight him if you'd like to see another sunrise. Now be off with you fools!” Ladew thrust the torch into John's hand and pulled back the curtain to reveal a staircase the led down, deep into the mountain.

“What kind of-” John began.

“No questions! No talking, even to each other! Now go!” Ladew gave John a shove before turning to glare at the other two. They jumped to action and headed for the stairs. The curtain shut behind them, and Ladew Vizer was gone.

“I was just going to ask what kind of guard has Claw as a name.”

“I'm wondering the same thing bud.” replied one of the other men. He was big and burly, with curly hair that John thought was brown. “I don't even know why I want to do this so bad, I just know I would do anything for my Queen. Let's just hurry and get this over with.”

“Hey, the creepy jester said no talking, even to each other.” said the other man, tall as Curly hair but skinnier. He shoved Curly aside and took the torch from John's hand. Holding it aloft he began to descend the stair, and John caught sight of whip slashes through the back of his tunic. John and Curly looked at each other before shrugging and following after whipped.

After a few minutes of walking the stair stopped at a landing, where they found clean tunics and breaches, soft leather armor, and a large wash basin set in the wall with a torch to either side. Each of the men took a few moments to wash up, changed into a set of clothes, which seemed to have been tailored just for them, and put on the leather. John and Curly took the extra torches and together they all descended the stairs again.

Just when John began to wonder if the stairs would never end, they came upon an alcove in the wall. “What do you 'spose this is?” asked Curly. He twisted his head to look down it, and it seemed to be a tunnel about a head width the seemed to stretch off into forever. “I can't see anything in this, and it smells funny.”

“Put your torch in and maybe you can see farther.” Whipped said.

Curly pulled his head out and stuck his torch in. The flame jumped down into the alcove, and seemed to travel along the wall around the tunnel. Alcoves to either side lit up like a thrown stone bouncing off boulders.

“Guess that answers that question.” John said. “Let's hurry boys, don't want this guard to have too much warning we're coming.”

John, Curly, and Whipped hurried along down the stairs, the brightening of the tunnel lightening the burden on their spirits. Soon enough they found the stair came to an end at a most unusual bronze colored wall.

“Does this wall look weird to either of you?” John asked.

“Yeah, but we can get through these crevices to either side.” replied Whipped.

“This stone is too smooth, I don't like it.” Curly said.

“Shut it, and let's just go.” Whipped went to the left and began to shimmy into the space between the weird bronze wall and where the wall of the stair ended.

John and Curly followed, though John's stomach began to twist into a knot.

“Are you guys feeling this wall at all?” asked Curly from behind John. “This isn't a natural wall.”

“I don't care.” replied Whipped from in front. “I just want to get this done and over with.”

“S-stop!” Curly hissed. “Do you guys hear that?”

They all listened for a moment, and then Whipped said “It's just air. Must be a breeze blowing into a tunnel high in the ceiling or something.”

“N-no. It can't be that. It sounds like it's changing direction again and again. Almost like somethings breathing.”

“Is it that time again already?” said a voice that seemed to reverberate through the tunnel and into John's bones.

“Wh-who's there?” called out Curly. “And what time are you talking about?”

A portion of the rock wall moved in front of John, and he was struck by how much the jewel the rock revealed looked like an eye. And then he understood.

“Time for my dinner.”



* * *



Ladew Vizer woke with a start as the curtain was parted. "What took so long? We thought you boys were strong."

"Claw did." replied John as he held a his torch high in one hand and a flower that sparkled in the light with the other. "How did a Dragon come to live down there?"

"That flower won't grow with just any keeper. And claw prefers his lair located down deeper. Ah, the magnificent flower. Give it here and don't look so dour."

"Aren't you going to ask about the others?" John indicated the dried blood that covered his breeches, though none of it was his own.

"Why?" replied the jester as he snatched the flower from John's grasp. "Never has more than one survived. After all, the Dragon must eat to thrive."





(Word count 2764)