A rush of air around the back of his neck told him the guards behind had dropped to their knees. Thoughts of escape bubbled up... ridiculous really, given the number of troops gathered in the square, all on bended knee before the council building. Silence, punctured by just the bubbles from the pools of lava in front of them, enveloped everything, the air sick with the smell of death... dragon death!
"Arise, my army!" bellowed a sickeningly familiar voice.
Immediately Peter's legs went weak, his stomach twisted as if a knife had been thrust into it, as the sound of thousands of beings all rising to their feet assaulted his ears. The guard behind him pulled him up by his hair, and he received a slap for daring to make a noise. The exact same thing happened to Tim next to him.
"My loyal subjects," Manson began from the top of the steps, looking down on all and sundry, "the time is nearly at hand, the new vision of OUR planet, within the grasp of a new dawn. The only thing that stands between that vision becoming reality, lies behind that door," he said, pointing to the top of the steps. "The so-called king and a few deluded dragons barricaded, trapped, delaying the inevitable by only a few hours. Pitiful really!"
Raising his hands in the air, each and every being in the square cheered loudly, with the exception of Peter and Tim.
"So, we're going to go in there and get them out... one piece at a time if need be." Another cheer rose up. "Except for the king. We're going to take him alive and make him suffer for what will seem like an eternity." Shouting and baying for blood, the crowd went wild. "But before we do that, I'd like to introduce you to someone that will have a major part to play in the way we shape the new world to come." Slowly, Manson stretched out his right arm towards a secluded area, off to one side of the building, somewhere the King's Guards had used to keep a sneaky eye on things. Not anymore. From out of nowhere, a stunning human woman, dressed from head to toe in to-die-for brown silk, strutted out onto the steps, head held high, shoulders back, looking immaculate and as if she owned the place. Diamonds in her ears and around her neck sparkled brightly. Her hair was HUGE, almost as if it had a mind of its own. It did, however, look magnificent. Peter and Tim both gawped, mouths hanging open. In all their lives, they'd never seen anyone so stunning. The rest of the crowd did likewise. So far, they'd only seen her profile, as she'd walked across the steps sideways on to the crowd.
"My... Queen!" declared Manson, getting down on one knee and holding out his hand, which she graciously accepted. Both nodded to each other before he rose to his feet. As she turned to gaze out at the crowd, there was much cheering, but what was obvious to Peter, was the undercurrent of shock and awe, something he was feeling in abundance. Because it was only as she'd turned to face the crowd directly, that they all caught a glimpse of her face: a visage littered with deep purple lines, a face stricken by madness, a face well known to the dragon community in the past for the atrocities that it had committed. Gazing upon that face, in an instant Peter knew that things had just plummeted downhill faster than an Olympic bobsleigh. He didn't know why, he just knew. Manson alone was one thing, dangerous, murderous, scheming and devious. But from the look of her, madness reigned supreme. Throwing in a big dab of insanity could do nothing for the position of the king, the planet, and all the beings on it. Hopelessness and dread consumed the young hockey player; all his fears and more had been realised in only a few moments. If only he knew the truth!
"But before we march forward and claim what is rightfully ours, I have a gift for my beautiful Queen," shouted Manson, spreading his arms wide.
The queen looked quizzically at Manson, as he signalled with his hands for the guards to bring Peter and Tim to him. Bracing himself, Peter knew what was coming next, and he wasn't wrong. Both he and Tim stumbled, despite being ready for the huge shove from behind. As the two human figures were brought forth, the queen's eyebrows rose up in wonder. Twirling his walking stick in one hand as he moved, Manson trotted down to the bottom of the steps.
"This, my Queen," he announced, grabbing Tim by his hair, "is the so-called 'white dragon' from the famed prophecy that every dragon has been waiting for forever to be fulfilled. He's the whole reason dragons have protected and nurtured those pitiful humans for all this time. Pathetic!" he spat, slamming Tim's head down.
"And the other?" asked the queen, licking her shiny purple lips in anticipation.
Strolling across to Peter, Manson grabbed him by the hair, exposing his throat, as he pulled his head viciously back as far as it would go.
"This one is the luckiest dragon alive."
Strangely, Peter didn't feel like agreeing with him.
"A constant thorn in my side up until now, and someone the king has shown a real fondness for. But for you, my Queen, a sacrifice and someone to hone your dark arts on."
As she wandered down the steps to join her lover, the queen wondered why the king had any interest in the puny young dragon before her, and knew that he might yet have a part to play, as some kind of bargaining chip much later on in the siege. Approaching Peter, she brought her long nailed hands up to his exposed throat. Slowly, she ran the long, sharp nail on her index finger down the side of his neck, enabling blood to flow freely.
"Delightful," she whispered seductively.
At this point, it was all Peter could do to keep control of his bladder. Desperately, he tried to think of something else... Richie, Tank, Flash, Gee Tee, the king... anything. But nothing could take him away from the sheer terror of the moment. Oddly though, and he couldn't explain why, he felt an ill-fated sense of familiarity. His body though, was too busy shaking and worrying to even try and figure out the reason.
Letting go of Peter, the queen glided across to Tim, but not before licking Peter's blood off her fingernails. Peter nearly vomited.
"So... the White Dragon eh?" she observed, leaning right into Tim's face. "I look forward to killing you very slowly, taking away every dragon's last hope. Eventually, I'll gut you while you're still alive, so that you can watch your own beating heart after it's ripped from your chest."
Tim, wholly pale by now, relinquished all control of his bladder, urinating there and then, the watching crowd all guffawing at once. The queen slapped him hard across the face, a prelude of things to come. Manson moved forward, wrapping his arm around his love's shoulders.
"So now, my eager troops, it's time to let the chaos begin and bring the dragon king's reign to an end. This day will reward us all with a new dawn. Let us go forth and finish what we've started."
And so with Tim standing in a puddle of his own pee, and warm, fresh blood trickling down Peter's neck, the two of them were swept along into the council building on a wave of anger and retribution, Manson and his queen leading the way.
All the while billions of innocent beings on the surface were blissfully unaware of the imminent change in ownership of their entire planet.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Paul Cude is a husband, father, field hockey player and aspiring photographer. Lost without his hockey stick, he can often be found in between writing and chauffeuring children, reading anything from comics to sci-fi, fantasy to thrillers. Too often found chained to his computer, it would be little surprise to find him, in his free time, somewhere on the Dorset coastline, chasing over rocks and sand in an effort to capture his wonderful wife and lovely kids with his camera. Paul Cude is also the author of the Bentwhistle the Dragon series of books.