Blazing a Trail

After the plan had been laid out, the conversation died as Fred bore the burden of the log. He had mixed feelings. Thomas had put some thought into this plan, and Fred knew that his chances were better casting his lot with this band than he would by going alone. But one could count on the enemy to do something unexpected. If the dragon did not do as Thomas had planned, the advantage of the trap will be greatly reduced. And Fred would likely be facing an angry and alerted dragon.

"So be it!" he thought. If the plan worked, he would likely be the slayer of the dragon and the rescuer of a princess. The fame for his deed would spread far beyond Allaria. When the opportunity presented itself at the council of war, he wanted to talk about what he should do if various things went wrong, but the plan was as sound as any he could imagine.

When Fred reached the edge of the clearing, he noticed that Anselm had built something like a large box with a pair of crank handles on either side of it. This was likely the part of the device that provided the power the machine.

Anselm confirmed this, noting that there this engine was built so that when a lever was moved from the left to the right, a ratchet holding the axle around which the rope was spun would be released, and the arm would spin about it and fling the payload forward.

By now, Thomas had grabbed an axe from beneath the platform. "We have a busy day ahead of us, Fred. How good are you with an axe?"

"Don't we have enough wood?"

"We have plenty, but we need to move this platform to Double Hill. We are not going to be able to levitate it out of here. We need to clear a path to the main trail."

Fred was discouraged. If he had known the distance to his destination, he could have measured his progress, and assured himself that there would be an end to the task. However, he did not know this area as the others did. Anselm whistled a couple of times. As Fred had hoped, someone responed and they received some help. Within a half hour, three men had joined them. They now had two axes and four sharp swords clearing the brush and chopping down saplings as needed. Two of the men would, from time to time, move the wheeled platform further down the new trail. Shadows lengthened, and the sun slipped below the peaks of the great bowl. Fred wanted to rest, but with the white-haired Anselm chopping the underbrush with the long sword of a fallen knight, and Thomas determined to get to the trail, Fred kept chopping, stopping only for a little drink of water from a glazed jug that one of the men had placed on the platform.

"This is the place," Thomas announced. The cross trail was not well- marked, but it would allow for passage of the platform and the catapult parts. Anselm said, "I could use a drink. How about you, Fred?"

Fred nodded his head.

From a little shelf that Fred had not noticed, Anselm brought out a wineskin made from deer hide. Fred brought the spout to his lips and drank it. The wine had a musky smell, but was otherwise good. There were smiles from some of the men as Fred drank their wine."

Anselm said, "You are a true Allarian. You did not flinch after drinking our own home brew, which has not been aged, and is made from the local scuppernongs."

Fred replied, "It is good after a hard day's work. Are we to leave the catapult in the open?"

Thomas replied, "No, but Anselm will take care of it. We must now meet the famous painter that was the cause of all this."

1. And so, Thomas introduces Fred to one of the men who was hacking at the underbrush.
2. And Thomas and Fred walked back down the cross trail as the light started to fade. Fred was sure that he would not make it to shelter and the painter, but Thomas surprised him.

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