Stories by the Staff – The Science Geek Triumphant: Part Two

Here is the second part of John Milliken’s story!

The Science Geek Triumphant: Part Two

By John Milliken

The sky was still dark when Stephen was awakened by the jailer pounding on his door.  The time of year wherever he was seemed to roughly correspond to the seasons in Maine, and the cool, fresh, October air chilled him.  The door swung open and the jailer walked in holding a torch, accompanied by the guards, this time with swords at their belts.  Although it was hard to see in the torchlight, the guards seemed to be holding big objects wrapped in cloth.

 
“Now we’ve got to put your armor on,” the jailer said.  First, Stephen’s jeans and plaid shirt were replaced with a white linen tunic and shorts.  He was then clad in leather shoes, pants, and a shirt with a metal plate over the chest and shoulders.  Finally, the actual armor came.  He put on thick, nail –studded boots, metal greaves to protect his legs, and a long-sleeved, chain-mail tunic.  On his head he put a metal helmet with a ridge on the top and cheek-guards (after putting his glasses in a pocket in his tunic,), and in his belt he slipped a dagger and a sword.
“Here, take this shield,” the jailer said, handing Stephen a large round shield.  “Sorry it’s so heavy, but you know as well as I that a standard wooden shield will not serve you well against a dragon.”  Stephen took the shield and slung it over his back.  Then, escorted by the guards, although now he looked more like their leader than like their prisoner, he left the prison.

***

Stephen found a horse waiting for him out in the courtyard.  He climbed on carefully, not quite sure of the correct technique, when he noticed another armed figure sitting on a horse next to him.

“This is Jacob,” the jailer said to Stephen, “and he is also making amends for his crimes, only he used to be a court jester.  Now, off you go.”  Jacob began to ride off.  Stephen, not quite sure what to do, followed as best he could.  Two mounted guards followed at a distance, just to make sure that they didn’t try to escape into the countryside.  After a few minutes, once the village was out of sight, Stephen turned to his companion.  He also was wearing helmet and mail, but from what was visible, he appeared fairly young, though noble featured and blonde-haired.  

“Were you really a jester?” Stephen asked incredulously.  

“Yes,” Jacob replied, “but I fell out of favor at the court.  If I survive this fight, I’m to be deemed innocent of my alleged crimes, but if I die, I’ll be considered guilty.”

“I didn’t think that jesters were so, ah, knightly.”

“Some of them are,” Jacob replied, “and some knights are very foolish.  Now, I’m not a jester by birth, mind you.  I was born a knight.  My overlord, the evil Duke Dagoth, however, wanted his daughter to marry the prince, so that he would be related by marriage to the king, but I disagreed with him.  He tried to kill me, but I disguised and hid at the king’s court as a jester.  When I felt secure in my position, I brought my case before the king, but spies of Dagoth’s had crept in with his counselors and convinced him to send me on this trip.”  

Stephen mulled the situation over.  “Well,” he finally said, “I certainly hope that we kill this dragon and give this Dagoth what he deserves!”  

“I hope so,” replied Jacob.  “Who are you though?”

Stephen explained his predicament to Jacob as well he could, expecting that Jacob wouldn’t understand the concept of a totally separate reality, as our earth certainly seemed to be compared to this world.  Jacob didn’t seem as surprised as he had expected, however.  When Stephen was done with the story, Jacob asked, “What do you think happened that brought you here?”

“Some bizarre quantum fluctuation or something, I suppose.”  Stephen said.  Jacob looked confusedly at Stephen, so he explained, “Basically, a freak of nature.”  This statement seemed to make Jacob very thoughtful.  

Finally, he said, “What you say may be true; in my experience, however, there are no ‘freaks of nature.’  Of course, there are events that seem to happen by chance, but they always end up serving a greater purpose.”

“Perhaps,” Stephen responded, “but this has certainly been a pretty negative experience so far.  What good can I accomplish in some other dimension where I don’t belong?  How am I going to get back home?”

“Usually, in my experience, those things in life which seem the most inconvenient at the time are, in the end, the most worthwhile.  Even if I could not think of one benefit thus far derived from your adventure, I would still think this, but as it is I can already see how you achieve great good by helping to free the people from this dragon.  Finally, answering your last question, have trust that everything will work for the good in the end.  If you stay here, it will be as it should be; if you are meant to go back, you will find a way back.”

***

As they neared the village, the sun was rising, cutting through the early morning fog and shining a clear, cold light on the red and yellow autumn trees.  

“You see those buildings over there,” Jacob said, pointing.  “That’s the village.  Come on, let’s go.”  Stephen and Jacob rode into the town.  All the streets were empty, and not a living soul was visible in any of the fields.  Taking a horn out of his belt, Jacob blew a few loud, clear blasts, as if returning the sun’s sharp, golden rays.  Doors opened and the people came out, some walking, some running, all making excitedly for Stephen and Jacob.  Apparently, the dragon made his attacks during the night, burning and smashing crops and fences, and carrying away and eating livestock and anyone unfortunate enough to be out after dark.  The dragon was getting bolder, however, and people were staying in their houses later and later into the morning.

“Please, please help us!” the people cried, “or we will be ruined and have to flee for our lives.”  

“Don’t worry,” Stephen said, “I’ll deal with him.”

“Where does the dragon live?” Jacob inquired.

“Up that hill,” an old man said.  “In a cave at the top.” The heroes made their way towards the hill, passing by crowds of excited people.  Reaching the edge of the village, they left their horses with a heavily freckled and crooked-toothed lad, and then went out to the hill on foot, while the two guards stayed behind with the villagers. Stephen got more and more nervous as he went along.  At this point, he was fairly convinced that there was, in fact, an actual dragon at the top of the hill, and was wishing that he knew a little more about dragons.  Perhaps his idea of what constituted “practical” reading material up to this point had been too narrow.  Perhaps…

“Over there!” Jacob said, pointing to a hole near the top of the hill.  “I saw smoke rising from it a second ago.”  Stephen was paralyzed for a moment, unsure of what to do.  Part of him wanted to run, but another part of him, quiet but commanding, told him to fight.  The two fought for a few moments, and then there was no question left.  He knew what he had to do.   Drawing his sword and holding it up, he let out a shout and charged for the hole.  He reached it, and was about to jump in, when a column of crackling flames shot out of the hole.  Stephen flung himself to the side just before the fire reached him.  Then, with a roar and a beat of its heavy wings, the dragon flew out of its cave.  It was, as these things go, a small dragon, perhaps only twenty feet long, but for Stephen, who had never had to really handle any sort of conflict past the verbal level, it was quite big enough.  He didn’t lose his head, however.  As soon as the dragon was out of the cave, he lifted his sword and dealt it a mighty blow, intending it to strike at the base of the tail, but it actually struck near the end, severing the very tip.  The dragon howled in rage and turned around.  It planted its feet firmly on the ground, facing Stephen, who was now trapped between the dragon and the cave.  He lifted his shield before his face, just before a burst of flames shot out.  The shield began to blacken and melt, and the handle was almost too hot to hold, when Jacob jumped right on top of the worme, sticking his sword deep into its back.  The dragon reared up, sending Jacob flying to the ground, his armor rattling on the stones.

 Jacob threw his shield at the monster, missed, and was trying to reach for a rock, when Stephen hit the dragon full on the head with his shield.  The shield shattered to pieces, and the dragon lunged for Stephen.  He stepped aside, only to have it lunge at him again from the back.  Stephen jumped out of the way a few times, then realized that the worme was trying to catch him in its coils and squeeze him to death.  He tried to strike with his sword, but the beast was  already too close to aim effectively, so he dropped the sword and tried to reach down to get a rock, but he lost his balance and found himself lying on the ground beating at it with his fists.  The coils tightened.  Just in time, Stephen managed to get his knife out of his belt and stab the dragon in the neck.  He stabbed again and again, until the grip loosened and the monster lay there limp.  Stephen had killed the dragon.
Climbing to his feet, Stephen went over to see if Jacob was unharmed.

“Jacob,” he said, “we did it, you and me.  We killed the dragon.”  Jacob smiled weakly and staggered to his feet.  Protruding from his chain-mail was a knife hilt.  

“Are you all right?” Stephen asked.  

“I hope so,” Jacob responded.   “When I was knocked down, I think that my knife got stuck through my mail shirt.”  Stephen lifted Jacob in his arms and slowly carried him back to the town.  When we came back, the villagers were overjoyed.  They sang and danced, and practically mobbed Stephen and Jacob.  People started cooking, and it appeared that a regular banquet was about to begin, when Stephen told the townspeople the news that Jacob was injured.  Great sorrow ensued, and it was decided that the two heroes should make their way to a doctor as quickly as possible (that town, being small, didn’t have one.)  Before they left, Stephen went back up to the hill, followed by excited villagers.  While the villagers admired the dragon corpse, Stephen retrieved his and Jacob’s weapons, and then set out, followed by their escort.  Jacob’s injury slowed them down, so that it was evening when they finally returned to the village where Stephen had been imprisoned.  The other guards (minus the jailer) were waiting for them.  

“Well,” one of them said, “I see that you came out of the encounter alive.  Did you kill the dragon?”  Stephen reached down and drew a huge, jagged tooth from his belt.  The guards examined it admiringly.  

“Now,” Stephen said, “my companion is injured.  Where could we find someone skilled in treating wounds?”  

“In this village,” the guards replied.  Jacob was then escorted to the house of the physician.  Stephen was about to go, when Jacob called him back.  

“Stephen,” he said, “I have been tried and proved innocent of all charges laid against me.  I am too badly hurt, however, to go to the king and make my request.  I am asking you to do it for me.”
Stephen was stunned.  On one level, he was touched that Jacob would ask him to do such an important thing for him.  On the other level, he was rather put off by the size of the task.  What could he say to the king?  He wanted to refuse, but that little voice, the same one that told him to go ahead and attack the dragon, told him to accept.  Jacob had been wronged, and then injured.  Was it not his duty as his friend and companion to help him when he could?  Besides, had Jacob not made the attack that ended in his injury, Stephen doubtless would have been totally incinerated.  He turned and said,

“I accept.  What do you want me to say?”

“First of all,” Jacob said, “you must bring the dragon’s tooth, as evidence that I really did help kill the dragon.  Second,” he said, holding up the disobedient knife that had stabbed its master, “you must bring this.  I don’t have time to go into it now, but the king will recognize the knife as mine and know that you really are my companion.”  Stephen took the knife, noticing for the first time that its handle was ornately carved and decorated.  “As for what to say, say that you are Jacob’s companion, and that I helped in killing the worme but am too injured to come back to the palace.  Say that Dagoth tried unjustly to have me killed, and that I want to marry Dagoth’s daughter Celia.”

“Isn’t she engaged to the prince now?”

“I don’t think that Dagoth has put that part of his plan into action yet.  All the same, you must hurry, because he might at any time.”

“I will do it,” Stephen said.

“Thank you very much Stephen,” Jacob replied, “thank you very much.  Thank you…” his voice trailed off into a whisper.  

“The man needs rest,” the doctor said.  “You can visit him again in the morning, if you don’t get him too excited.”  Stephen gave Jacob’s hand a squeeze and left.
Stephen got a room at the local inn, where he spent the night.  On the way out the next morning, he asked the innkeeper where the palace was.  

“Only a little ways away,” he said.  “You get on the road that goes through the marketplace and go east towards the mountains.  When you get there, you’ll know.”  Stephen thanked the innkeeper and went on his way.  As he left, many of the people looked at him wonderingly, not sure of who he was.  
Stephen visited Jacob before setting out.  Although Jacob was still too weak to sit up, he was awake and thanked Stephen one more time before he set out.
Stephen’s trip was relatively non-eventful, although the strangeness of the situation did strike him a few times.  He, Stephen, the science geek, was here, hailed as a hero, wearing a suit of armor, going to the king to make a request for a knight-turned jester-turned dragon-slayer.  The whole thing was highly irregular, to say the least.  
After a few hours of walking, the palace came into view.  It was indeed very impressive, all made of stone with turrets and spires, complete with a moat.  Stephen walked cautiously up to the drawbridge.

“Halt!” a voice cried.  A guard held a pike up to Stephen.  “Who goes there?”  

“I’m Stephen,” Stephen said, “and I come to make a request on behalf of Jacob the jester.”

“Can you prove it?” the guard asked.  Stephen held up the dagger and the tooth.  After examining it for a minute, the guard went and got another guard to look at the knife.  Finally he said, “You can come in,” and lead Stephen across the drawbridge and into the palace.  

Stephen was made to wait in a small room while an attendant went and told the king.  Stephen paced around uneasily.  At least he came while the king was holding court, so he wouldn’t have to wait for hours.  Still, the few minutes he had to wait were very tense.  Supposing he forgot what he was supposed to say?  What if he wasn’t properly respectful?  The attendant was beckoning him to enter.  He left his sword in the room, and followed the attendant.
Stephen found himself in a very long hall, lit by torchlight.  At the very end, on a large, golden throne, the king sat.  He had a very long, gray beard and a crown on his head.  In his hand he held a silver scepter, and he was wearing a red robe.  On either side of the hall, various official looking people were standing, and the walls were covered in elaborate, colorful tapestries.  
Stephen got down on his knees and bowed his head, and all the nobles on either side bowed to the king, too.  Stephen was unsure of whether or not he was supposed to get up, so he stayed where he was.

 The king spoke: “Stand up, Stephen, dragon-slayer.  What is it you have come to say?”

Stephen stood up and walked forward several steps.  Then he said, “Your majesty, I have come on behalf of your jester Jacob.  He helped me kill the dragon, but was injured in the process.  He wants me to tell you that he has been proved innocent of duke Dagoth’s accusations, and that he requests permission to marry the duke’s daughter Celia.”

The king rubbed his beard thoughtfully.  “It is customary,” he said, “to produce something in the way of evidence when making such a request.  If you are really sent by Jacob, and if you really killed the dragon, I will ask you to produce a token from each of those events.”  

“Yes, your majesty,” Stephen said, bowing again and taking out the knife and the dragon tooth.  A soldier with a plume in his helmet took the items from Stephen and gave them to the king.
“This is Jacob’s knife, and this tooth is certainly a dragon’s tooth,” he said.  “So Dagoth was scheming for an innocent man’s death.  What was this you said about Dagoth’s daughter?”

“Jacob was going to marry her, your majesty, but Dagoth wanted to marry her to the prince instead, so that he would be related to you by marriage.”

“I see,” the king said, getting angry, “and I also suppose that he would conveniently find some way of removing our son from the line of succession, so that he could become king!  Stephen dragon-slayer, you will feast with me tonight.”

“Thank you, your gracious majesty,” Stephen said, bowing low and leaving the room.  

“Send a message to Dagoth right away,” the king said to the soldier with the plume.  “Tell him to allow the marriage of his daughter Celia to Jacob and to present himself before me for judgement.”  The soldier bowed and left.

***

Stephen was pleased to finally get some meat and vegetables again, after a week of bread, porridge, and cheese, (and not an overabundance of that.)  He was sitting at one of the lower tables, not very close to the king’s table, but he was just glad to be with other people and to eat a hearty meal.  He was seated with some pages and lesser knights, and, especially after a glass or so of wine, he discovered that both he and his companions were extremely clever and made great company.  They told him of some of their adventures, which he found immensely exciting and enjoyable, and then he shared his story with them, which they all found most entertaining.  The whole thing even seemed almost a little funny at the moment.  
As the merriment continued, a messenger ran up and gave the king a letter.  The king stood up.  The music stopped.  Everybody stopped eating, and the laughter and talking stopped.  

“Dagoth!” bellowed the king.  “He refuses to come!”

“Take him by force!” a fat knight with a mustache shouted.

“He has already worked out a plan in case we choose to try.  He says that, unless we want ‘something unfortunate’ to happen to his daughter, we shouldn’t try attacking him.”

Roars of outrage echoed through the hall.  Then, a very old knight stood up and said, “There is only one course of action that I see possible.  We could easily out-maneuver him militarily, if it weren’t for the fact that he can’t be allowed to shed innocent blood.  We need some young, clever knight, who would be able to creep into Dagoth’s castle and help his daughter escape.”
“That is a very good plan,” the king declared.  “Are any of you willing to go on this noble venture?”  All was quiet.  Then, from the corner with the pages, a voice rang out, “I will do it, your majesty.”

 Everyone turned to see who it was.  It was Stephen.  

END OF PART TWO