Prudence wiped her tears, she wanted Boniface back.
The fireplace crackled.
Gregory gave her space, remaining in the kitchen.
Prudence craved to know what had happened.
Where it all went wrong.
Sadly, she would never truly learn. The only two people that could enlighten her were gone.
Earlier that morning…
Boniface shook Aylsworth’s hand. He was a young man with a handsome face that sported a short beard. His eyes were polite and knowledgeable. He carried himself in a manner that was much more mature than his age. “Gramercy for meeting with me, Aylsworth. Would you like a meal?”
“Perhaps another time,” Aylsworth said politely. He was almost bald but had a long dark and gray beard. His eyes were noble and serious. He had a patient presence about him. “Now, tell me, what is your dilemma?”
They sat down across from each other in a corner, at a pub in Winchester.
“My wife,” Boniface began. “My love; she is pregnant, and has been for quite some time. We know the baby will come soon.”
Aylsworth nodded, listening carefully.
“But now, she is in pain unlike ever before.”
“Has she tried any remedy?” Aylsworth questioned.
Boniface nodded. “All that is available to us. It has done nothing. We fear of losing our baby. I fear worse. You know not the pain she is in, I know not the pain she is in…but something must be done to help her.”
Aylsworth glanced away and looked throughout the pub in a sense to read the room. “How did you know where to reach me?”
Boniface remembered. “A man named Grindan.”
Aylsworth sighed regretfully. “I do not seek company with Grindan, nor with his friends. That man is a snake.”
Boniface tried to cut him off. “—I am not his friend,” he mentioned, shaking his head. “I am but a desperate man seeking to save the woman he loves.”
Aylsworth saw the yearning the young man was trying to hide to remain stoic. “Very well, Boniface, but it will cost you.”
Boniface nodded. “Name a price.”
Aylsworth leaned in to whisper. “The king is to have his crown repaired later this morning. The crown is my price.”
Boniface contemplated the offer, looking away.
“But you already knew about the crown’s schedule.”
Boniface looked at Aylsworth curiously.
“I looked into you, Boniface. After helping a degenerate such as Grindan, I made an effort to know those whom sought me out. I had been foolish up until then, simply helping whoever said they needed it. I had to know you first.”
Boniface shook his head with just over an ounce of shame, surely this would be the dealbreaker. “What do you know?”
Aylsworth shrugged. “That you are a spectacular thief,” he whispered, a bit appreciatively. “If you wish to save your wife, Dragon Spawn is verily the answer. ‘Tis the rarest of all items I have ever come across and this will be the last of it. I do feel this shall be a worthy way of finishing it, but the crown must be mine before anything else.”
Boniface nodded, accepting the offer. “Very well…if you do not mind my asking, how did you know about the crown’s schedule?”
Aylsworth looked away. “I am a man of many resources,” he said, looking back at him. “Let us just say that the crown is not of more worth than your wife, and your unborn child. The Dragon Spawn is of more worth than a crown to me, it can heal people of the worst illnesses or injuries. It can prevent death itself. And again, this will be the last of it.”
“The Dragon Spawn,” Boniface said. “Grindan had made mention of it. What exactly is it?”
“‘Tis a flower. I found it upon my travels, some years ago…” Aylsworth remembered.
He walked up a slope in the forest that covered a mountain.
There wasn’t anything quite like traveling and map-making, he loved it.
The air was stale with a scent of dirt and trees, the sun still high in the sky.
Wildlife chittered about.
Aylsworth wasn’t sure where his path would lead him, but he planned on going up and around the mountain to start mapping the other side.
Of course, a man of travel carried his home on his back. He had enough food to last him a few days, give or take. He knew he should reach some sort of other market before then.
He wiped the sweat from his face and kept hiking.
Something followed him.
He could hear it behind him. He stopped in his tracks and looked around, waiting to see movement or hear rustling.
Nothing.
He continued on and heard something behind him again. He stopped once more and looked back. He stood still a bit longer this time.
The wind lifted his beard and shook the trees.
Aylsworth sighed, feeling a bit uneasy now. He whistled loudly.
He shouted and stomped his feet.
Lastly, he pulled out something like a firework. An item he was given on another journey.
He threw it forcefully on the ground.
BANG!
Moments more standing still.
Nothing.
Aylsworth scoffed and continued on.
It was said that the mountain he was hiking up was once home to mystical dragons.
Pish posh, he thought; nonetheless, he always welcomed a story.
There it was again, the noise.
He turned around.
A wolf stared him down from behind a tree.
Aylsworth spotted it and drew his sword. His heart started racing.
Another wolf made itself known with a low growl.
One, he could kill…two, would be a fatal mistake.
He ran.
The wolves, much faster, chased him.
Aylsworth holstered his sword and tried to outrun them, looking for a tree he could climb.
A wolf grabbed a hold of his robes.
He was being taken down but adrenaline aided him in a scuffle. He moved his body like a tornado trying to evade their teeth at all costs.
And in the fit of reckless movement, he slipped.
Falling down a slope of vines and branches, he braced himself.
The wolves aimed to follow.
But they watched Aylsworth disappear, falling through a hollow spot in the vines and into a cave.
He landed on his side with a grunt, the breath slammed out of him with a wheeze.
He lay there for a moment in pain, his heart pounding. Looking around with what little light shone through the overgrowth.
The cave was large.
He could see what looked like a massive bird’s nest, made out of large branches and twigs.
Could it be true?
Could this nest have belonged to a dragon?
He groaned standing up, wiping himself off, and gathering his bearings.
“Well planned,” he joked to himself.
He walked over to the dragon’s nest and stared at it with a squint.
Triangular flowers covered the nest with thick red and purple buds sprouted amongst them, it smelled like mint and cheese.
To his awe, in the middle of the nest was an egg.
Though, black and rotten.
He looked at the flowers and the buds they held.
He tilted his head. “This looks like—” He picked one fat bud, it was bigger than his hands.
The dragon’s nest whooshed into flames.
Aylsworth jumped, watching all of the flowers catch fire. He grabbed another extra large bud and one more.
Before being thrown back by the sheer wall of heat.
The cave was filled with thick smoke.
He held the three oversized buds to his chest and kept stepping back until he couldn’t anymore.
The smoke enveloped him, hot boxing inside this hole in the mountain.
The dragon’s nest was completely engulfed in legendary flames.
The Dragon Spawn burned purple, pink, green, and black. Popping and crackling, releasing its mother chemical into the air.
Aylsworth was mercilessly intoxicated, the Dragon Spawn having already filled his lungs multiple times.
The smoke was starting to suffocate him.
He got down on the ground to avoid the smoke any way that he could, looking at the overgrowth that caged him in.
He begged that it would open up.
To his amazement, the entirety of vines and twigs spread apart, seemingly forming an archway for the cave.
He escaped.
The smoke rose into the air with a purple hue, easily traveling above the trees.
Aylsworth coughed and caught his breath. He looked back into the cave.
A woman stood inside. She was frightening but beautiful, in a gown made of dragon scales. Her hair was long and her face had perfect lines. Her eyes were purple and she was very tall.
She called to him. “Aylsworth.”
He floated closer to her, the ground was miles beneath him.
It was just the cave and the woman, in the sky. Rapidly ascending over the clouds and above the sun.
Reaching the vacuum of space, everything went silent for years it seemed.
The woman held his face, staring into him. Her purple eyes spun wildly. She turned him around and he saw the world.
He saw many worlds.
Layered across a field of black in the vast nothingness.
Aylsworth knew the answers. He saw the worlds burn and heal. He saw them wither and flourish.
He knew there were things that we could not see and things that we could not know. That there was a much bigger purpose than we alone could comprehend.
He was freed from himself.
Like he died but was more alive than ever.
He was to do good work.
To heal others.
The rest was history.
Aylsworth looked at Boniface. “I eventually came down from the mountain. After what I can only explain as my imagination getting the best of me. Though, feeling I had regained years of my life. I arrived at a settlement, and I stayed for some time. I remember I had walked past a woman and her son. The first person to whom I gave the Dragon Spawn was that young boy. His ear was swollen and leaked. His skin felt like fire, the poor lad.”
Boniface nodded, listening attentively.
“I made him tea from the Dragon Spawn,” Aylsworth said. “He drank it and like magic, we watched his ear return to normal. As though nothing had ever happened. He sweat no more, he was exuberant. Perfectly healthy.” He nodded. “Beyond that I have witnessed broken bones correct themselves, returning with strength sevenfold. Crude men turned into scholars. One man even took it before battle and he won, unscathed. This happened time and time again. Until I met Grindan, but that is a story for another time.”
Boniface let out a sigh, amazed by the power of Dragon Spawn. He rubbed his face and nodded. “Then the crown it shall be,” he whispered. “However, I do not wish that my wife know of my escapade. This is to remain between us. When you have the crown, meet her at the inn. I will be unable to go with you if I have to give chase to the king’s men. Just…I beg you, please, see to it that she is saved.”
Aylsworth nodded sincerely, looking into his eyes. “You have my word, she will be healed. We will go to my dwelling and I will make her the tea.”
Boniface nodded, putting his faith in Aylsworth. “I shall let her know of your arrival if I do not stay with you. Meet me in the alley behind the pub at the hour of terce.”
Aylsworth nodded.
“Gramercy, Aylsworth,” Boniface said kindly. He stood up and shook his hand.
“Godspeed, young man.”
Boniface left.
It wasn’t far to the inn, he traveled the grid coming to it some time later.
It was connected to a stretch of buildings. Its face was welcoming with happy visitors seen through the windows.
Boniface entered and hastily found his room. He opened the door.
There was a small table next to a bed and a small fireplace on the wall across from him. With a window to his left.
Prudence lay on the bed, she looked at him with a forced smile. Her hand was on her belly.
“My love,” Boniface said to her adoringly. “How do you feel?”
Prudence shook her head with puffy eyes, she was in severe pain. And had been for more than a day now. “This is not like my mum said it would be. The pain never comes to an end.”
Boniface quickly knelt by her, his eyes were pleading. “Prudence,” he said softly. “I found something…someone, who can help.”
Prudence glanced away. “Who?”
“He is a healer, an older man with a long beard. He has a powerful remedy called Dragon Spawn. It healed a boy who had the sweat in an instant. It gives the weak strength and turns fools into scholars. He watched men become invincible. The healer even became younger by using it. He told me that it can heal anyone of anything. That it can prevent death itself.”
Prudence shook her head. “It does not sound true, Boniface.”
“I believe him,” Boniface refuted, he needed to hold out hope. “He was genuine, and you know I do not trust people easily, my love. Him, I trust.”
Prudence kept her gaze on him, contemplating. She softly nodded, she had always believed in him.
Plus, the pain only seemed to be getting worse. She made a sour face.
If there really was something that could help, she wanted it. But she didn’t want him to get hurt.
She sighed with a defeated look.
Boniface held her face. He kissed her.
She kissed him.
It was agreed.
Fingers crossed.
“I must go do something with him first,” Boniface added carefully. “‘Tis very simple and we shall be back within the hour. If the healer arrives before me, go with him and I shall meet you north, at the entrance of Ellmeda.”
Prudence looked at him suspiciously.
She knew her husband was an expert thief, she even helped him once before long ago.
He had always pulled it off, finding the simplest of ways to handle a complicated job.
This felt no different. She was confident in him, but he never had to meet her elsewhere.
She understood anyway.
“Very well, I love you,” Prudence said softly.
“I love you,” Boniface replied. “I shall not be long, darling. Wait in the lobby when the hour is almost up.” He turned over a sand clock. “Once we get this, you both will be okay.” He smiled at her, hopeful that this would take away her pain.
He kissed her again and stood up. He grabbed his green hooded robe and a cowhide bag. He walked away and opened the door. He turned back around and looked at her with comforting eyes. They just needed to get through this and they could live happily ever after, the three of them together. “I love you, Prudence.” He couldn’t say it enough.
Prudence smiled, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in her abdomen.
Her baby kicked softly.
“I love you, Boniface,” she replied. “Hurry.”
Boniface nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.
Time for a heist.
The king’s men were not to be trifled with. This was a strict time when law was prominent, and many residents of the kingdom would swiftly raise alarm at any sign of criminality.
Boniface entered the metalsmith’s shop.
A man, the owner, looked at him as he walked in. “Good morning,” he said.
Boniface looked back at him. “Good morning, kind sir,” he replied solemnly. He walked over slowly and sadly. “My father passed away last night, ‘tis just me and my mother.” He frowned and glanced away with his eyes watering. He cleared his throat. “Apologies.” He rubbed his eyes. “I had gone around today to many workshops and asked if I may be an apprentice. So far, they have all declined.” He looked down. “I had hoped…” he looked back into the man’s eyes. “You being the last shop I could visit that I may seek an apprenticeship here? We are desperate. I must provide for my mother. You are our last hope.”
The man looked at him distraught. “My deepest condolences,” he said. “Losing one’s father is a heavy burden.” He nodded, glancing at his shop. “I do suppose I could use another set of hands around here.” He smiled politely, hoping to brighten this young man’s day. “I am Everard.” He put out his hand.
“Benedict,” Boniface replied, shaking his hand. His eyes teared up. “Gramercy, Everard. You know not how grateful I am. Verily, you have saved us.”
Everard nodded with a smile. “‘Tis no trouble, Benedict. Have you done smithing work before?”
Boniface shook his head. “No, sir, but I have seen it done and I know of the basics.”
“Very good,” Everard said. “We can go from there.”
Boniface nodded confidently.
They heard a wagon pull up to the shop.
Everard looked at the door. “Ah, perfect. I believe here is an order now.” He went to the door.
Boniface knew who they’d be.
Two of the king’s men walked inside. They were tall and intimidating, wearing uniforms. One of the guards carried a box with a latch on the front of it.
The other guard quickly looked at Boniface and back at Everard, he wore a fiercer helmet than his counterpart. He was in charge. “Who is this?” he asked cautiously, stepping in front of the box.
Boniface glanced away shyly as if to submit to their presence.
Everard looked at Boniface kindly and nodded. “He is my apprentice.” He looked back at the guard calmly.
The guard sized Boniface up. He smirked and looked at Everard. “We shall be right outside.” He took the box from the other guard and handed it to him.
Everard took the box with a nod. “Understood. Gramercy, Cassian.”
The king’s men left the shop. Standing right outside of the door. A third guard who controlled the wagon climbed off of it and stood by them.
They chatted.
Everard looked at Boniface. “Come, Benedict,” he said kindly. “We have an important task today.” He walked toward a workbench.
Boniface nodded and followed him. “What is it?” he asked like he didn’t know.
Everard smiled, he set down the box and opened it.
There was the crown.
Made of gold with precious purple and red gems attached to the band every half-inch.
Boniface took a breath.
Everard glanced at him. “Who knew your first day as an apprentice would come with such responsibility,” he said amused. He carefully picked up the crown and examined it.
Boniface smiled. He stood closer watching Everard work.
“The order is to restore the mounting for one of the gems,” Everard said. “I am also looking for imperfections and scratches or chips.” He picked up a red gem from the box. “This bugger.” He pointed to a spot on the crown that was vacant. “Should be here.”
Boniface nodded attentively. “Are you a master metalsmith?”
Everard glanced at him. “Indeed,” he answered. “And I have done work on this crown before.”
He set down the crown and walked away.
“Now, all we have to do,” Everard added. “Is remove the old mounting and fix a new mounting to the band.” He grabbed a couple of tools with his back turned. He mumbled to himself, grabbing the necessary items. “If you would, Benedict, please heat the crucible.”
He received no reply.
Everard turned around.
Boniface was gone.
The crown had vanished.
Even the loose gem.
Everard started breathing faster, looking around in a quick panic. The door at the back of the shop was wide open. For a moment he was utterly confused, unsure of what to do.
He snapped back to his senses. Then quickly went to the front door.
“The crown is gone!” he shouted to the king’s men. He opened the door, looking at them with worry. “The crown is gone.”
The guards looked at him furiously.
Cassian hurriedly pushed him aside and looked into the shop. He grunted and pulled out a horn. He blew into it heartily, raising alarm. “Thief!” he yelled. “There is a thief! A young man! Wearing a green robe!” He blew the horn again and repeated himself.
The other guards ran through the shop, through the back door to try and pursue the thief.
Civilian men joined Cassian at the front of the workshop, taking orders, and informing others.
Everyone nearby who heard the horn and Cassian’s shouting was now vigilant.
The call spread like wildfire with others yelling the same.
“Thief!”
“Green robe!”
The church bell rang.
It was the hour of terce.
Boniface ditched his green robe. He didn’t stop sprinting. He glanced back and could see the two guards far behind him.
The crown and gem were in his cowhide bag.
He could hear the town clamoring in an uproar.
The guards spotted him running just as he entered an alley to his right at the end of the centre.
They ran after him.
“Stop!” one of them yelled. “Cassian! He is here!”
Cassian hurried around the front of the workshop and followed them.
Their boots slammed against the ground as they ran. Their swords thrashed against their bodies and their helmets bounced on their heads.
Boniface ran out of the alley reaching a path, he could go left or right. He chose forward, through a patch of woods, quickly evading them.
The king’s men reached the end of the alley. They stood on the path, breathing heavily. They looked around.
Cassian rallied with them. “Split up,” he commanded. “You to the right, you to the left.” He ran straight into the woods.
The other guards agreed and kept running.
Boniface reached another road past the woods and went left. He crossed the road and started walking casually. He tried to blend in, catching his breath.
He was coming up to a junction, he looked back over his shoulder.
Cassian exited the woods and quickly looked around, he locked eyes with Boniface. “You!” he yelled.
Boniface started sprinting again.
“Stop!” Cassian shouted, pointing at him. He blew his horn again. “Thief!”
Boniface turned right at the corner, picking up speed down the straight road.
Cassian turned the corner. His eyes were locked on Boniface, but he was running out of stamina.
People watched them run. Some men followed Cassian.
“Thief!” Cassian yelled again, pointing at Boniface.
They all chased him.
Boniface reached another corner, and he turned right.
The pub was across the road.
He dashed into the alley.
Aylsworth was there, he darted his eyes at him with shock.
Boniface quickly handed him the cowhide bag. “I am being chased,” he said, not stopping at all.
Aylsworth quickly grabbed it and put it into his cloak, holding it under his arm. His eyes were wide.
Boniface kept running through the alley.
Cassian turned the corner and entered the alley, his face was covered in sweat. He glanced at Aylsworth, passing him. He blew his horn again.
The civilian men still followed him.
Two other horns could be heard in the distance.
The king’s men were closing in.
Boniface exited the alley and entered a three-way intersection. He went straight.
The king’s men were coming down that path toward him.
Boniface skidded on the ground and turned around. He went left.
More of the king’s men, some on horses, were coming for him.
Boniface quickly turned around and looked at the only other direction he could go.
Cassian ran out of the alley and looked at him.
Boniface was boxed in. He had nowhere to go. He braced himself.
Cassian tackled him to the ground, shoving his face into the cobblestone, and kneeling on his back.
Boniface struggled with a bloody scrape on his cheek.
At least a dozen king’s men and multiple residents gathered around them, ensuring no escape.
Cassian shackled Boniface’s hands.
Boniface had never felt such dread as he did at that moment.
He was captured.
Aylsworth wasted no time heading to the inn as soon as he got the crown. He knew he had to get away immediately. So he did.
He arrived at the inn on a wagon pulled by a horse, unaware of what happened to Boniface.
He entered and looked around calmly. Searching for a young pregnant woman.
Prudence had fallen asleep. She was awoken by a stabbing pain in her upper belly. She hissed, placing her hand on the spot.
She sat up and took a deep breath. She glanced at the sand clock that Boniface turned over, the top bulb was emptied.
Her face showed agony. Her eyes were creased squinting and her lips were pursed.
She groaned.
This pain was much worse than before.
Her hands trembled and every movement exacerbated the torment. She took another deep breath, trying to fight through it.
Aylsworth saw some guards through the front windows of the inn. He turned away and walked to the rooms. He knew time was not to be wasted.
He would keep his word to Boniface.
He knocked on the first door.
A man opened it. He was drunk, smelling of wine. He gave a confused look. “Yes?” he asked.
“Apologies,” Aylsworth said. “Wrong room.”
The man nodded and shut the door.
Aylsworth went to the next door. He knocked.
No answer.
He opened the door and peeked in.
It was empty.
He shut the door and knocked on the next door.
“Come in,” a woman answered.
Aylsworth opened the door. There he saw Prudence and her pregnant belly. “Pardon me, miss.” He looked at her kindly. “Boniface?” he asked presumably.
Prudence nodded assuredly. “Yes,” she replied. “Is he here with you?”
Aylsworth shook his head regretfully. “I am afraid he had more to do.” He thought about the last words Boniface said to him.
Prudence furrowed her brow and looked away. Her mind thought of the worst scenarios. She started to cry.
Aylsworth saw the suffering and despair upon her. “I am a healer,” he said, carefully walking closer to her. “He may have mentioned my arrival. Did he tell you of the Dragon Spawn?”
Prudence nodded, taking a deep breath. “I cannot stand on my own,” she said timidly.
Aylsworth quickly aided her. He sat down next to her and put his arm under hers. “And…up.”
They stood together.
Prudence moaned in pain.
He kept his arm around her to support her. “It will be okay, miss,” he said softly. “Do you need to take anything with you?”
“Yes, my bag,” she said, pointing.
Aylsworth gently let her go and grabbed the bag. He went back to her. “Off we go.”
They left the room…
This day would forever be engraved in her mind.
Prudence sat on the bed that Gregory gave her. She thought about their deaths, staring at the fireplace. It burned brighter as she felt torn.
Boniface boiled.
Aylsworth slain.
Grindan’s gashed open face.
Needless to say, her mind was burdened from the day she had.
The door to Gregory’s room opened.
It was Beatrice. She was home for the night from the tavern. She had already put her children to bed in a different room. Her hair was let down, long and red. Her eyes were sincere and her face was soft.
“Good evening, my love,” Gregory welcomed her, knowing the way she sounded. He walked out of the kitchen and gave her a hug and a kiss. “Was your day well?”
Beatrice nodded with a smile. “Yes, my sweet.” She placed her hand on his chest, she looked past him. “She is here. Good.” She nodded.
Gregory nodded. “I’ll start supper, my love. Go on, speak with Prudence.” He kissed her again.
She kissed him back with a smile. She walked over to the lonely girl, now knowing her name.
Prudence glanced at her as she came around the bed.
Beatrice sat next to her.
They both looked at the fireplace in a moment of silence.
“I told ya Gregory is quite fond of me,” she said humorously.
Prudence giggled. She couldn’t help herself, Beatrice had a presence about her that she found comfort in.
Beatrice looked at her. “So, Prudence…” She held her hand. “Now I am going to pry.”
Prudence looked at her vulnerably. She felt that she could indeed confide in this woman. There was a motherly connection with her.
“Tell me your story,” Beatrice said kindly. “I am yours for as long as ya need.”
Prudence took a breath, thinking about where to start. “My husband’s name was Boniface…”
Crawford 