To Be Tender-Minded Does Not Become a Sword

--- King Lear, Act V, Scene 3

Sir Fred's pulse was racing. He felt liberated. He had proven his courage and slain the dragon! The promise of the future seemed limitless. None of his fellow knights, none of the nobility, not even the King himself could claim the distinction of felling a dragon. Perhaps he could aspire to be more than a Duke. With the wealth of the caves, the possibilities of power seemed limitless.

Fred shuffled to the carcass of the dragon. Cutting off the head of the dragon proved to be more difficult than he had imagined. It was like trying to chop a great log, and he adopted much the same technique. The sword was a poor substitute for an axe. The effort Fred expended in hewing off the head of the dragon was much more than that of killing the dragon in the first place. After hewing off the head, Fred had another problem. It was far too large for him to carry out.

"The eyeballs will be proof enough", Fred thought. Fred tried to remove them gingerly, so that he could keep them entire and not puncture them. The light behind those yellow eyes was now extinguished.

You have done a man's work, Fred. You have performed a great service, and I thank you.

Fred was not sure what that was. It seemed to be his own thoughts, yet not quite his own thoughts. It was his own voice. He was feeling the start of a fever. "The bad air in these caves, and all that I have had to do to exert myself is causing me not to think straight. I must guard the proofs of my noble deed and leave as soon as possible."

He managed to sever the optic nerve and remove the right eye of the dragon.

"Indeed, look upon that dragon. She was a princess once. She was a great-hearted warrior, who thwarted many of my plans. She could have lived the easy life, and bided her time while the outlying districts of Aqualaria were ravaged, but she forsook all that in attempt to thwart my plans. How noble." There was hint of a sneer to the last thought.

Fred paused in trying to extract the left eyeball. He was starting to hate this place. He just wanted to get his trophy and leave. That was not really a princess down there. Just the remains of the dragon, trying to shame him.

Many of my serverts, both powerful and numerous, tried to break her. They made her life hard, but her spirit, I will admit, was headstrong, and she persisted. I thought that she had beaten me there for a minute, too. I was worried that she would reverse my work. But I although my body was gone, my knowledge and cunning defeated her in the end, as I knew it would.

Fred turned his eyes away from the dragon. He just needed air, and some water. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead and into his eye. He rubbed it, and daubed his face with blood. The Marshall never told him about the work it took to clean up after the slaying.

Oh, you are thinking about the Marshall, now? What did he say, "Examine your motives? What were your motives, Fred? To ease the pain of the Allarians, or to pursue your own glory and win fame? Or is that an unfair question?

Fred drank deeply from his canteen, and returned to work. He mechanically worked at the dragon's left eye. This was getting to be an ordeal. It must be an evil charm. "Just work, and don't think."

Remember how you valiantly flailed at her, Fred? It was hopeless. I hope you will not be offended if I tell you that you looked a bit silly, waving your arms like a marionette. After all, you did prove your valour later.

Fred silently worked the eye out, and severed the optic nerve. He looked over the body of the dragon for anything useful.

Look at how mighty she was! She should have been able to kill you in a dozen different ways. Instead she flew out of your reach, and did not mount much of an attack. Not exactly the usual mode of operation for a dragon. Perhaps she was intimidated by your valour!

Fred did not see anything that could help him, and he was starting to get disgusted. He was chiding himself. It must be the lingering evil from the dragon that was doing this to him. He packed the eyeballs in his baggage.

No, the dragon almost looked like it wanted to avoid killing you. But dragons cannot be trusted. The princess... excuse me, the dragon was felled, and left to your mercy. What all my servents could not do was accomplished in one glorious stroke by a noble knight of Allaria. Even dead I did not give up hope. I had reckoned that you could be the instrument of my revenge. Gaining revenge without having body, and without direct influence, now that is elegant - far more exquisite than any spell I accomplished in life! She was done in by her own pity. There is a joy in seeing an enemy's weakness exploited. Again, you have done a man's work, Fred.

Fred grabbed his sword and his baggage and fled away from the dragon's carcass. He felt his body and face burn, and his throat felt dry. He had just drunk from the canteen, but he still felt thirsty.

Of course, will anyone ever find out about the death of the princess? If it were ever found out, it would be bad - you would be degraded from a hero to a villain, or more likely, a clown. But do not worry about that Fred. If you keep your head, you will be safe and there is no reason that you cannot enjoy your fame and glory. Trust me, she will not return to her old form, and will not receive the honors of a burial. Let the dead bury their dead. You need to start out of here and enjoy the fruits of your labours. You can get back - you just need a little meat, something to ease the pain, and a little staff to take the weight off your foot.

Fred did notice that his leg was no starting to ache again. Checkers had some of those green pellets. Fred's stomach started to feel light. He did not want to go back to where she lay, but he did not have a choice. "It wasn't my fault," Fred thought. "She was the one who tripped up the dragon, and she wasn't acting rationally afterward. She was angry with me. I didn't want to kill her, but I didn't have a choice. These things happen."

"You don't have to worry about anyone searching for the Glider, by the way. She was dead to her people long ago. I underestimated her. She nearly defeated my scheme, although she was lucky in addition to being resourceful. I never considered Old Dolomite to be signifigant, nor did I know that there were hidden spells in that book. If only I had not died! What I could have accomplished!"

Fred picked up the shaft to the spear. He felt the shallow spiral grooves, and noticed a carving of a pig, a bear, and a dragon, with marks next to the pig and the bear.

"You perhaps should put a mark by the dragon, too. Maybe two, as she also had a hand in Astra Dragon's demise. Or maybe just leave it blank, as she never intended either of us to die by her actions. It is all the same to her now."

Fred slipped the blood daubed pouch from Checkers waist. Inside were a few items - dried meat, some green pellets, and a strange leather device that he could not figure out. It had a coiled piece of metal. He would probably never understand it. There was also her spearpoint, a small stylus for writing, some metallic instrument with numbers, her map, and a couple of coins that he could not recognize. Nothing really valuable, except maybe the map.

"You do know that dragons can read thoughts? This Glider, Checkers, was difficult, because of that damned old language that she would sometimes slip into. But what I was able to glean was interesting, Fred. Those marks on that spear were hard won. She was essentially expelled from her home and left to die, although they never called it that. Dress an action in the right clothes, and it doesn't stir ones conscience. Learn this, Fred. As a grim joke, they told her that she was to 'go on a quest to fight the dragon.' I enjoyed that. It was a shameful and hopeless quest to her, not glorious like it is to some knights that we could name. But she didn't die or flee from the quest, like all the others. Now why didn't she?"

Fred felt an urge to bury the lifeless body. After all, she did help him. At the same time, he wanted to drop everything and flee. Above all, he did not want to look at her face.

The will to live can be strong. I know Astra's was, and so was mine, if you don't mind my boasting. It was that way with this Glider, too. In seven and a half long years, she mastered the art of hunting, foraging, and living alone, which is difficult enough, but would fight the impulse to degenerate into a merely animal existence by reciting the old stories of her people while she was working, sometimes to strangers, but most of the time alone. She became shy and aloof. That was natural of course, for she was, as you truly said, a 'freak,' and seldom received a warm welcome. And yet, mixed with that reserve, she became weak and muddleheaded in some key areas. She lacked that killer-instinct and started to identify with the weak - 'gentleness and kindness' is how this weakness is excused. A casual observer could not tell on the surface, but I saw that weakness, and was able to exploit it. Not like you and me, Fred. We see things clearly. 'To be tender-minded does not become a sword', or a spear for that matter. For a third time, thanks for your help, Fred.

Fred felt the urge to scream, but he stifled it. He knew that he was not well. The stress of the day's events were starting to cause him to hallucinate. That is what was happening to him.

She really was not built for a quest, unlike you. However, she was quite proficient with that spear, so if she had been thinking she should have been able to defend herself. Now where was that spear in her last fight, Fred? Oh, that is right - she gave it to you as a crutch. How clever, exploiting her weakness to get her sole means of defense from her.

Fred looked away from Checkers, hoping that these thoughts would stop. The whole thing was an accident, or an enchantment. Just get away from this damned room.

But you know what the best part was? After all the years of assuming that laughter and whispers were directed at her, and then living in the wilderness risking murder from fearful beings who thought that she might be a demon or a vampire, she finally finds someone that she can trust. I enjoyed that feeling of betrayal she felt just before you cracked her skull. What seven and half years as an outcast could not accomplish, you managed to do with one action. You broke her spirit. And while I would like to claim all the credit, that would be unfair to you. You came through for me, Fred. It is a grand consolation on my way to Hell. I will keep a spot warm for you. Don't be a fool. Enjoy the results of your labour.

1. Just then, Heather and Sir Paulito enter the cavern. [See 21815]
2. "I am almost out of the cavern," Fred thinks. "If I can just make it out this will all go away."
3. One month later, Fred has returned to his homeland a national Hero....

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