Dragon Slayer Page #3

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At this, Ulrich advances and closely examines three shimmering

irridescent disks as big as saucers.

ULRICH:

All right. How did you come by these?

VALERIAN:

(proudly)

I found them. At the mouth of the

lair.

ULRICH:

(grim)

What else?

Valerian reaches under his jerkin and withdraws what appears

to be a curved sword. He jabs it into the table.

VALERIAN:

A claw.

ULRICH:

That's no claw. It's a tooth. By the

gods!

He runs a finger along a serrated edge and gazes bleakly at

his visitors.

ULRICH:

And you want me to do battle with

that?

Valerian has lost all trace of timidity.

VALERIAN:

Who else can we turn to? We all know

what we're dealing with here. This

is a basilicok.

(he takes a step

forward)

A cockatrice.

(another step, bolder)

A dragon.

(he leans close to

Ulrich)

This is no stag, no bear, no natural

creature. This is one of your kind.

And only a necromancer such as

yourself can rid us of it.

ULRICH:

Did you try the Meredydd sisters?

What about Rinbod? I've heard it

said he killed a dragon once.

VALERIAN:

They're all dead. You're the only

one left.

With a sigh, Ulrich lowers himself into a chair. He rubs his

withered legs and shakes his head.

ULRICH:

It's a long way to Urland.

VALERIAN:

Every quarter, upon the solstices

and the equinoxes there's a new

victim.

Greil, a grizzled peasant, speaks up.

GREIL:

My daughter, for one.

OTHER TRAVELERS:

My sister... cousins...

ULRICH:

All women?

VALERIAN:

Girls. Virgins, to be exact, chosen

by lot.

Galen edges over to the table and inspects the scales and

tooth.

GALEN:

Master, don't you think --

ULRICH:

Silence!

He broods for a long time.

VALERIAN:

Are you afraid of dragons?

ULRICH:

No. Sorcerers and dragons go back a

long long time together. If it weren't

for sorcerers, there wouldn't be any

dragons.

(pause)

All right. I'll go.

CUT TO:

COURTYARD - DAY

The travelers are making ready for departure in the grey

light of dawn. As Hodge stuffs provisions into a wicker box,

Ulrich wraps padding on a newly fashioned pair of crutches.

ULRICH:

I know of this dragon. Vermithrax

Pejorative:
she's four hundred years

old. As far as I can tell she's the

last of her kind. Very appropriate

that I'm the one to finish her off,

don't you think?

(he tries out the

crutches)

There. Flatten the highest mountain.

What say you, Galen?

(no answer)

Speak up.

(still no answer)

You, Hodge.

Hodge mutters something inaudible and grimly keeps packing.

ULRICH:

(to Galen)

While I'm gone see you keep your

nose in your books and your hands

out of my reagents. Leave my

instruments alone too.

Galen crouches against the castle wall; he regards his master

sullenly.

GALEN:

Look at yourself. How far will you

get like that? A league, two leagues?

ULRICH:

I'm not worried about the road.

GALEN:

(sarcastic)

Why don't you wave your hands around

and summon up a coach-and-four?

ULRICH:

Don't mock me.

Galen gets up and calls out to the Urlanders.

GALEN:

You pilgrims:
You're used to

lotteries. Why not draw straws to

see who'll be first to carry

ironshanks here.

This is too much for Hodge.

HODGE:

Hold your tongue. If the master's

got a mind to go, he'll go.

Galen approaches the old sorcerer.

GALEN:

Send me. You're always saying I need

seasoning. I need a test. Let me go.

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