Love Thy Enemy

If It Were Only A Dragon [Chapter 11]

The long march from the city walls up to Hightown and the castle district was enough exertion to free me from the cooling effects of the alchemist’s potion. I even regained feeling in my toes and fingers.

Eriques was along with me the whole way, filling me in on what he had seen. “With all the commotion, you would think that one of the old coots had died. But really it’s just about this dragon business.”

“How uppity are they, thinking they have any say in what business the King has us doing?” I said with a huff.

The upper road, leading right up to the castle gatehouse, was filled with people hoisting tapestries and parchment written with sloppy charcoal messages, all the while chanting.

“Amnesty for the creature!”

“Not a beast!”

“Fighting fire with fire means the whole world burns!”

The crowd was blocking all routes for anyone who had actual important business. Luckily, the gatehouse and the guards stationed there seemed to be holding them at bay, fully serving their purpose.

“Mr. Gladius!” called a voice through the crowd. “Mr. Gladius!”

The skinny, ragged man from the east pushed and elbowed his way out of the rear of the crowd. “Farvin?”

“What is this, Mr. Gladius? Does stuff like this happen in the city all the time?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, and no, thank the gods. Why are you here, though?”

Farvin slumped his shoulders and glanced back at the masses. “I was sleeping out here in the street once more, no money and all. Was kinda’ hopin’ I could meet up with you again and see about the progress toward headin’ out and killin’ that dragon for us. But then I woke up with all these folks yelling. I think… they don’t want the dragon dead.”

“And what makes them think they know anything about this dragon?” I said, cracking my knuckles and preparing to split the seas. “Try to keep up.”

I forced my body into the spaces between the final, unorganized ranks of the mob. My arms did the talking, shoving anyone who refused to give way. Some of the protesters at the edges started to take notice, turning their shouts from the gates and directing them towards me.

“It is not some monster!”

“The warmonger cometh!”

“End this campaign!”

It was not their shouts alone that came my way. I felt their hands strike me, the wooden posts of their makeshift signs smacking me across the chest and back. I didn’t like any conflicts that couldn’t be solved with a sword. Maybe, just a little bit, I wished I did have my sword on me.

Eventually, I was within sight of the gatehouse. There was a representative from the court with a bullhorn to his mouth, trying to speak out over the crowd. A few of the castle guards were positioned at the gate to keep people from rushing up against the structure itself.

I reached my hand out for them to garner their attention. I received a glare, then a kick to the waist.

“Keep your distance, I’ve said!”

I felt myself falling back into the crowd. I felt more feet upon me.

“What are you doing? That was Sir Gladius!”

It was all a blur of pain and shins and shouting after that. I found myself back on my feet, barely under my own strength, being strung up between two people and dragged into the gatehouse door and beyond into the castle’s courtyard. I felt my left eye swelling and found blood dripping from my nose.

I was doted on for a bit by the court healer inside the courtyard there. Surprisingly, Eriques and Farvin had been able to follow me through with hardly a scratch. When the trauma to my eye had been reversed, I found the court Adviser, Sacher, staring down at me.

“I understand it may be below you, Sir Gladius, but there is another route up to the castle, where deliveries and servants enter.”

I forced out a grin at him. “I guess that’s why you’re the one who knows stuff. How about you tell me why all these people are out here? They don’t want the dragon killed?”

Sacher stood up and held his arms behind his back. He stared out at the gate. “It was started by someone from the Ministry of Ministers.”

“The church,” I huffed, wiping my lip to make sure none of the blood remained from my nose. “No wonder they are so headstrong and unruly. I would have personally expected the elves to be a part of this. But as I think about it, certainly I distrust the clergy more than the elves. Not that I distrust the elves. They are actually providing us with help. But these folks out here… I can’t understand why they would even care.”

“It must be one of their books,” Eriques sneered.

“You’re closer than you would think, Squire.” Sacher said, wandering about the courtyard while talking. “We had one of their members attending the court while our friend from out East here was telling us of the creature. They went off and did their own research, as they do, and came to a certain decision. After that, well, it doesn’t take much to rile up a mob with their ‘facts.’”

“And what is this prerogative of theirs?”

“A dragon is an intelligent creature, or so says their sources.”

I nodded. “I believe the elf from the Ministry of Magics said so as well.”

“And so the debate has begun,” the wise man posed. “How smart is too smart? It is wrong to kill a man, clearly. Livestock, though? A chicken for example. We give such things no second thought.”

“I might know a young necromancer who would argue with you there…” I said under my breath.

Sacher continued, eyes now fixed on the gate and the crowd beyond. “But the smarter the animal, the harder it is to conceive killing them. A hound, a horse. Is a dragon smarter than either of those creatures? Is it conscious of its actions out there in this man’s lands to the east?”

Farvin almost looked sad. Or emaciated. But the wise man was making too good a point which I had to take down. “What are you, their spokesperson? Why not have the King give an order to the Ministry of Ministers to disband this nonsense?”

“It is bigger than the Ministry, now,” Sacher said solemnly. “Unfortunately, we must have the Ministry of Arms deal with this, despite your preoccupation. As you know, we have armor and weapons within the walls of the castle available for use.”

I stared at the loud, unruly mass past the gate. The stress of the past few days suddenly welled up. “I’d love to use force, but for some reasons I’m not feeling too well. Give me a chance with my words first.”

I stomped up the stairs to the overlook above the gate. The speaker, trying to quell them still with his futile words, side-eyed me. I grabbed his bullhorn.

“You lot out there!” I yelled, pushing out every last breath. “Shut up, all of you and listen! Let me ask you this: if a man were to come and kill your wife and children and burn down your house, would you not put him to death? There is a vicious, unthinking beast out there, carrying out such an act at this very moment. It shall be dealt with in the very same way!”

The crowd cried out and thrust their hands up toward me. None budged. I shook my head and another thought appeared.

“No, I must speak the truth! Listen! An elven researcher from the Ministry of Magics has told me of the intelligence of a dragon! Superior to even our own! And they command magics that no human could ever hope to understand. And… in fact, dragons love when lesser beings like us worship them. They seek out people like you. If you keep yelling and chanting like this, well… it is sure to come here and reward you all with its blessings of fire, so that you may be baptized into its congregation of death! If you decide to stay here, we can do nothing but allow you to be burned up.”

The rumble of the mob died down for a moment, then turned to something different entirely. “Fire?”

“Did he say fire?”

“Baptized in it?”

A few stragglers peeled off the back of the crowd. Some tried to worm their way out of the crowd. Soon enough, more were pushing their way down the road, tossing their signs to the side. From up there in the high point of the city, one could almost see each and every one of them returning to their homes.

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