Prince charming's Arc

Chapter 26 of 30

Prince Charming woke before dawn thinking of the tinker. The man had a mule and a slow pace. He would stop at every farmhouse between the forest and the coast. At each stop he would tell the story: the dragon is tame, the prince lies, the mountain is open. Hunters would hear it. Then they would come, not one at a time but in groups, with dogs and long guns, faster than the princess could turn them back from her tower. He had a day, maybe two, before the story reached the first tavern. He could not kill the tinker. He had already decided that at the door. But he could beat the story to the road. He saddled his horse and rode to the birdbath at the forest's edge. He lit the signal fire in the iron pot, and he sent a jewel bird up the mountain with the princess's diamond earring tied to its leg. The dragon came down within the hour, wings folded tight against the trees, horns catching the low sun. Prince Charming told it plainly what he needed. Not a killing. A sighting. He needed the tinker to see the dragon on the road, close enough to feel the heat off its scales, and he needed the tinker to live and tell that instead. The dragon understood. It lifted from the field and flew low along the road south. Prince Charming rode after it as fast as the horse would go. He caught up at a bend near the second stream crossing. The tinker's mule stood in the ditch, reins dropped, packs scattered. The tinker was on his knees in the road with his hands over his head. The dragon crouched in front of him, one clawed foot pressed to the packed dirt, breath moving the man's hair. It did not bite. It did not burn. It only looked at him, close enough that he could count the teeth. Prince Charming dismounted and walked between them. He told the tinker the truth had just changed. He asked what he had seen. The tinker said a monster. Prince Charming said good. He gave the man his mule back, and a full purse this time, unasked. The tinker took both and did not argue. The dragon lifted and turned back toward the mountain. Prince Charming watched the tinker ride south with a real story in his mouth now, one that matched the lie the poacher was already spreading. Two mouths carrying the same warning would sound like truth. He rode home slow. The immediate hole was patched. But he had used the dragon as a threat on a public road, in daylight, within sight of any farmhouse window. Somewhere behind him, he knew, someone had looked out and seen.