It was essential for the King to believe that Hamred was completely at ease in his presence. The King was always keenly aware that no one was comfortable when he was near and it bothered him. It was his greatest weakness and one that Hamred used constantly to win the Kings’ favor. He was an easy man to manipulate, if you just pretended to like him. The difficult part was the pretending. The King reeked of the dragon scent and no regular person could approach him without falling into a fit of terror. Even the Chosen did not get this close to the King. His success or failure would be determined in this moment. If the King saw his eyes roll or body stiffen with fear his chances of winning the crown could be jeopardized. With that thought and strengthened by the calming effect of his mantra he turned the tightness in his face into a smile and said, “At moments like this I feel like you are the father I have never know.” As he stared deep into the King’s eyes with his hot breath swirling around, Hamred’s fear had finally betrayed him—his voice had trembled as he spoke and tears had filled his eyes. He waited in dread for the King to shove him away and demand that he leave, as he did with all the people who offended him by showing their fear. Instead the King had released Hamred to cover his face with his hands and hide his own tears. The Kings voice also trembled as he answered, “And I feel like you are the son I have never known.” With that Hamred had stepped back from the King’s dais and dropped to one knee bowing his head and giving himself a few precious moment to recover. The elation he felt as he realized that the King had mistaken his fear for feelings of love bolstered him and he was able to stand after a moment and once again put on a posture of confidence and ease. It had been a formidable challenge, but like all the others, he had passed it.
Wiping the stinging sweat from his eyes, Hamred could see in the distance a faint trail of smoke rising from a shabby looking hut. Now he only needed to grab a new spear and he could return in triumph and publicly claim the title of Crown Prince. He was close to the end and knew he could not get careless.
The dragon scent was powerful in this valley and for some reason he thought it came from the Spearmaker’s hut. Always planning ahead, Hamred looked around carefully to ensure that no one was following him. Then he crouched down behind a cluster of bushes and unbuckled the belt around his loose fitting leather pants. He reached into his pants with his left hand and kept scanning the bushes around him as he pulled out what looked to be a full wineskin. A tube attached to the top of the skin ran down and connected to his penis. Hamred removed the tube from the end of the full bag, tipped it upside down, and poured out a large quantity of fresh urine. He still could not control his bladder around the King or when the dragon scent was strong. It bothered him that the King’s sniveling son, Ardvan, seemed capable of this when he was too weak to even hold a spear when he faced a dragon. Drako and Madox kept him informed of Ardvan’s progress. Or should he say lack of progress. Both men watched Ardvan closely and reported that he was almost incapable of standing when he inhaled the dragon scent.
Ardvan had hired the men to help teach him the methods of the Chosen. It had been his feeble attempt to block Hamred’s rise to Crown Prince. He had been woefully unsuccessful and his failed attempts had made him the favorite joke at the Dragon’s Draught. Whenever Drako and Madox managed to slip away from Ardvan they always went to their favorite drinking hole and they would tell endless stories of Ardvan’s failed attempts to defeat a dragon. The King’s son was a glutton for punishment because he just kept trying in spite of his weak knees.
Now that Hamred had reached the hut he calmed himself with thoughts of Ardvan’s disgrace. The dragon scent was getting more and more powerful and he was glad he had emptied his false bladder. Even with nothing left to pee, he took comfort in knowing his secret would remain safe. He stopped with his had on the Spearmakers door and gathered all the mental strength he had within himself. He reflected on his training and his reason for standing here. After a deep calming breath, he forced his body forward. There was no way to do this without pressing on. He knocked three times quickly then opened the door.
The smell that wafted over him as he crouched in the groin of the doorway, consumed him like a blazing fire. He felt a fear so powerful he surprised himself when he finally regained his senses enough to notice that he had not simply fled in terror but still crouched like frightened deer before a hungry lion. The man who stood before him had cold dark eyes and he was speaking. Hamred could not make out the words because his mind was still scrambling to regain control of his body. He had experienced this level of fear only one time before when he had tried to kill the King’s whore—the girl he had slept with on the eve of the Dragon’s fire festival. She was no human, she had proved that when she had so calmly enchanted the King with her warm smiles and accepted his caresses without a single tear or grimace of fear. There was not a human alive that could bare the physical touch of the King without suffering the most extreme feelings of fear and anxiety. It was rumored that the King’s first and only wife had finally killed herself rather than have to go to the King’s bed one more time. He had just managed to slice open her pretty cheek when she had turned the dragon scent on him in full force. It had literally knocked him to his knees. He had been completely unprepared for her because she had given off no dragon scent before that moment. The fact that she was able to hide what she was and choose to show it only when she wanted to was a thing no one had known before. But perhaps that experience was helping him now.
“Where is the King?” the Spearmaker repeated. Hamred had caught it this time and he tried to put on his most gracious smile. He managed a look of horror and revulsion, a look you would expect to see on the face of a mother forced to watch the execution of her only child. Hamred tried to speak and failed, gathered himself and tried again. He announced with all the strength he had, “I am the new Crown Prince and I have come to select the ceremonial spear for the Dragon’s fire festival.” It was a long sentence for someone so breathless from fear and his voice cracked and whined as he spoke. The Spearmaker shook his head and laughed. “I’m not giving the King’s spear to a boy who soils his drawers at the sight of me. This must be a joke.” Only then did Hamred realize he had lost control of his bowels. He had never prepared for that.
Hamred felt a flash of anger amidst his overwhelming sense of fear. The shame and embarrassment were triggered memories of his childhood and early training that he did not want to face. Who was the Spearmaker to challenge him, the Crown Price? Mentally he grabbed hold of his anger and he felt the strength of it give him new resolve in the face of his fear. “I am here at the King’s request and expect you to follow his orders. I will not be the one to bring the full wrath of King Drakinvil upon my shoulders by returning to the Dragon’s fire festival empty handed.”
Hamred reach slowly into his vest pocket, focusing on his movements in an attempt to stop his limbs from shaking. He pulled out an official form with the Kings seal and handed it to the Spearmaker. “Read this. If you doubt who I am, this will set you straight.” He held the form out for the Spearmaker to take and waited while he looked it over.
After reading the letter the Spearmaker looked up at him. “Very well, come with me into the white room and you can select your spear.
The dragon scent was still triggering his fear impulses but Hamred managed to move forward to the white door that the Spearmaker beckoned at. He kept his eyes focused on the door and moved quickly ahead. He knew he would feel better once he got his hands on a spear. He had travelled unarmed to this hut at the request of the King and he vowed in that moment that he would never go unarmed again. As he entered the white room he felt he should make a show of inspecting the weapons and selecting the best for his ceremonial return to town, however, his continued fear won out and he grabbed the spear closest to him and felt an immediate calming effect. He had killed many dragons while holding these spears and he knew their power. He felt a great sense of control knowing he had a spear to protect himself. Feeling more assured he paused to take in his surroundings. He felt a need to redeem himself and turned to face the Spearmaker once again. He was about to speak when he heard what sounded like a baby’s cry. The Spearmaker’s eyes narrowed and he said, “It is nothing, just a local wench and her child. Take your spear and go.”
Something in the way the Spearmaker spoke or acted made Hamred even more curious. Besides, what human baby could possible stand the heavy dragon scent within this hut without wailing in terror. Clearly there was more to this Spearmaker than the meager appearance of his shabby hut revealed.
“Let me see this child.” He said it softly but there was steel in the request.
“The child is newly born and we should leave him to rest with his mother. You have a feast to return to and you will need to clean yourself.” The Spearmaker glanced meaningfully down at Hamred’s soiled pants.
Hamred turned his back on the white room and looked into the dark corners of the small hut. There he saw the King’s wench from a year ago sitting snuggly on the Spearmaker’s cot. She did not avert her eyes, but met his gaze with a cold angry stare.
Her hair was messed and she looked exhausted but she was still beautiful. He wanted her and knew that she had been manipulating his feelings from the moment he entered the hut. Hamred smiled his first real smile in a long time. It would be such a relief for him to kill her. He was Crown Prince and he would not be manipulated by any woman. With that thought his smile changed to a look of fierce determination. In one fluid movement, Hamred threw his spear. In the fraction of a second that it took for the spear to fly across the room the girl pushed her baby aside and the spear pierced her through the left breast. Hamred chased his spear across the room even as he threw it. He was ready for anything but as he looked into the girls eyes, he saw the life fading from her. He had done it. She was dead. As he pulled his spear free he said, “The scar on your face healed nicely. This one in your chest won’t.”
The baby was wailing now. The brat could smell the blood and even now Hamred could feel the force of baby's dragon scent surrounding him. He shook with fear and raised his spear a second time to finish off the spawn of the woman he had just killed.
********
Hamred woke to the roar of the rushing river. He felt a huge sense of relief as his mind finally made sense of the sounds around him. He had been dreaming of being King. At first it was glorious but soon it turned into a nightmare. The many people who stood around him cheering, suddenly changed from humans to dragons as their cheers of love turned to cries of hatred. He watched as all the babies in the crowed crawled towards him calling his name. In the end he had cowered before them as they screamed for his head, beating him with their small pudgy fists. When he finally realize that the roar of noise was not a call for his head but the sound of rushing water, was a relieved beyond words. The dream had seemed much too real.
His head hurt, badly, but he did not think anything was broken. He could still smell the dragon scent and he felt greatly weakened by his ordeal in the Spearmaker’s hut. Slowly he gathered himself and lifted his body from the edge of the river. He had no memory of how he had got here and for a moment he panicked, thinking he had lost the ceremonial spear. But he still held it, tightly clasped in his right hand. Everything would be fine now. He would return to the town of Haven in time for the celebration. He would be the new Crown Prince.
His body was half in the frigid waters of Coldstream and he was very, very cold. He wondered how long he had been lying at the waters edge. He had many questions, but he did not have time to deal with them now. He had to get back to the town and show them the spear. King Drakinvil would be waiting for him and he did not want to keep him waiting. As he slowly climbed the rocky embankment at the edge of the river he could see the Spearmaker’s hut just a short distance away. He was filled with such intense feelings of fear that and panic that he retched and fell back to his knees. He had never encountered such overwhelming fear. All his training had been useless when faced with the full force of that woman and her new baby. Had he killed the child? He could not remember.
Hamred steeled his nerves as best he could and mustered ever last ounce of strength he had as he slowly stood once again. He put his back to the door and muttered, “fear is proof you are living.” It was cold comfort for him but there was nothing else. He would either live or die but he would not die lying down. He used his spear to support his weight as he walked. He was hampered with a feeling of mortal terror and extreme cold. He was still shivering violently and had trouble with every movement. Fixing his eye on the distant horizon he made his way slowly back to the road. It took him several hours and by the time he got back to his horse he was completely exhausted. The overpowering stench of dragon had finally left him and his mind was once again able to think beyond the next step. He needed to clean himself and then he would be on his way. First he had to rest—just a few minutes.
He started a warm fire then stripped off his soiled clothing. Fortunately he had brought a change of clothing for his triumphant return. It was fine wools and garb he was not accustomed to wearing but as Crown Prince he felt he needed to look the part. He dug a hole and buried his filthy clothing. The site of brown streaked legs made his gorge rise, not from the stench, but from the thought of how completely out of control he had been in the Spearmaker’s hut. He would have to visit his Mentor and get some help. There were special medicines that one could use to cope with dragon scent, but he had never stooped to such levels before. This ordeal today had changed everything. His pride was gone and he would rely on every tool at his disposal to conquer the creatures that had turned him into such a pathetic coward. He could never let this happen again.
