This story was recently sent to me by Larry Hooten
And is a sequel to his previous story "Family Secret"
Larry can be contacted at lmhooten@socalix.com
I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did !
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The Black Ring Francine pawed at the
ground and began. “Erin thought to use his Ring to gather gold. Chrysaor, or
at least, a ‘leprechaun’, lured him into this cave by wagering he could not
take the pot of gold from its stash, protected by a dragon under this
mountain. Erin agreed, believing the Ring would protect him from all harm,
but –and this is important– the ring is not proof against enchanted weapons.
And dragon teeth and claws carry very high-level enchantments.” “There’s a
dragon in there?” I asked. “Yes there is,” replied a deep basso voice from
somewhere in the darkness before us. “Uh, oh.” said Francine. “RUN!” Turning
my attention to the ring, I returned to the meadow where I first met
Francine. A moment later, Francine appeared beside me. “That’s NOT what I
meant!” she reproved. “You need to get some practice dealing with some of the
creatures you will be opposing.” “If you gave me a weapon, I seem to have
misplaced it.” I replied, displaying the hairbrush. “Besides, how do you kill
a dragon, anyway?” She gave an impatient look. “I thought you knew. A spear
or an arrow through the heart generally does the trick.” “Oh, right. If I can
find the missing scale on his protective armor.” “That’s just a story!” she
replied. “Let’s see, now.” I continued “Dragons are intelligent, more so than
most humans, OR unicorns.” I looked at her significantly. She just gave me a
disgusted look “Most dragons are stupid” she said. “You must be thinking of a
satanic manifestation that occurred on your world. And their armor is tough,
but not invincible. Have you no weapons at your disposal?” I had to think
about that. I had some fair sized survival knives, but somehow I didn’t think
they would help here. I had never bought a gun, having tried a rifle as a
teen and found it far too loud for my taste. I’d always wanted to forge some
swords, and maybe a Klingon Bat’leth, but had never gotten around to making
more than some designs and a pattern. I had a recurve bow, but I did not
consider target tipped arrows as real weapons. I’d once owned a compound bow,
until thieves or opportunistic landscapers stole it. But now that I thought
about it, knowing what it looked and felt like… I stretched out my hand and
suddenly it was there, complete with a full quiver of 6 razor tipped arrows.
Looks like the thief upgraded my set. Oh, I like this ring! “Wow!
Francine, if it’s all the same to you I’m going to find a safe place for this
now. I’ll be right back.” With a thought, I was back in my bedroom, where I
put the bow back in its old cradle. Jenny heard me and came in. “Daddy! What
are you doing? Where have you been?
You found your old bow?” She ran to me and in a moment, I was gripped
in a tiny bear hug. “Hi, Jenny! Guess what! I’ve been visiting with Francine. She wants me to help her
out, so I’m thinking of spending some time on her world, is that all right
with you?” “Oooh, can I go too?”
she asked. “How about later? It looks as if it might be just a little
dangerous for you right now. Okay?” “Okay, I guess. But I can go later?” “I
suppose…” I replied. Holding her at arms length, I stood up, winked at her,
and vanished from her sight. “Francine, is there a way
I can make something appear that I’ve never actually owned? I can think of a
whole series of weapons I’ve always wanted.” “Not on this world, besides, you
don’t have the time to learn to do that right now.” She replied. “What do you
want?” I didn’t even pause. “A phaser would be nice. Some kind of energy
weapon? How about a Mark IV blaster?” “What are you talking about?” she
replied. “I don’t even know what those things are!” “Honestly, neither do I.
But there are TV programs that make them seem as real as all this.” I
gestured around us. “What is this---Teevee?” she asked. “Um, right. I never
mentioned it, and you met Mom before it was invented. It’s an entertainment
system. An electronic box with moving pictures and sound that tells stories
and sells soap.” “A special device just to sell soap? Why? Never mind, no
time now. We can walk and talk later. You need to kill that dragon!” “Right.
Weapons. Are there any elfish or dwarfish weapons I can borrow? Something I
can learn to use quickly?” “You’re short and stocky for an elf. But maybe
they can come up with something. Follow me!” In another moment, we were
standing in a large antechamber before two huge doors protected by tall,
thin, longhaired guards with ghostly white skin and pointed ears. “Hierachian
the Elf-king lives here. I’m sure he’ll help us.” Francine said. Then, to the
guards, “The Lord Larry, Human from Earth, has need of an audience with the
King. I speak for him.” The call was repeated into the Throne-room as the
doors opened before us. We stepped forward, as I thought of all the stories
this felt like, from Arthurian legends to Tolkien’s Hobbit tales. I resolved
to visit some Human castles when this was over. We approached the King, an
old, emaciated looking creature in long flowing robes, with a crown that
looked a bit heavy for him. He seemed tired, but there was an unmistakable
aura of nobility about him. His eyes were deep pools of wisdom that I
immediately felt drawn to. Francine began to speak. “Your Highness, allow me
to present to you my Champion, the Lord Larry.” That name again. I closed my
eyes for only a moment, shaking my head ever so slightly. “He has agreed to
take up the challenge,” I gave her a startled look “…and requires weapons to
complete the task. Will you help us?” The King began speaking in
a language I could not understand, although it seemed related to Gaelic to my
ear. Seeing my reaction to his statements, the King ordered a servant away.
In a few moments, he returned with a golden amulet, which was placed about my
neck. “Champion, you seem less than sanguine about your identity and your
task. Are you certain you can accomplish it?” Cool! A Universal Translator! I
looked down at it for a moment, and then realized that the king was showing a
little impatience. “Honestly, I haven’t a clue. But I am willing to try.” “He
is of the Line, milord,” interrupted Francine, “and he uses my Ring well. He must
be the One.” I started to speak, but the King put up his hand and shook his
head. Somehow, I felt that he at least was one that I could trust. I held my
peace. “Captain! See to it that our ‘Champion’ lacks for no armor or weapons.
Give him any training he requires.” With that, we were dismissed. As we were
led down the hall, I bent over and whispered to Francine “I don’t remember
agreeing to do anything! What were you talking about back there?” “You asked
for weapons. What need have you for them unless you intend to use them? Your
decision was sound. Fear not.” Francine then promised to look in on me later,
and the Captain led the way to the weapons cache. It was a small stone
structure adjacent to the soldier’s barracks, with tables and racks full of
swords, spears, shields, knives, and other less identifiable items arrayed
over every available surface. The captain looked me up and down, no doubt
wondering what to make of this new recruit. “You really believe in starting
at the top, don’t you?” he said. Before I could reply, he continued, “Well,
you have nowhere to go but down from here, so unless you wish for a short,
painful life, you will listen to every word I say. Understood?” I nodded mutely. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”
Jeeze, does every army have one of those? “Sir, Yes, Sir!” I replied. He looked at me strangely,
as if he hadn’t expected that particular reply. “Have you ever served in an
army, Champion?” “Sir! No, Sir!” I replied. He backed off, looking slightly
mystified, and returned to the task at hand. “Do you know what this is?” he
asked, picking up a long, flat bronze sword from the table. “It’s a Sword,
Sir!” “Look, I can see that you are not a soldier. I don’t know where you
picked up that mannerism, but it definitely does not feel right coming from
you. Stop it.” I nodded shortly, “All right.” He continued, “ This is a
broadsword. I understand these were used on your world for hundreds of years
before you chose to abandon honorable warfare.” “Chose? What can you do when
the other guy starts using higher technology?” I asked. “You fight fire with
water, not fire,” came his cryptic reply. “Come, take the sword.” He led the
way out to the practice field, where he drew his own weapon. “Hold it this
way. The blade protects high, the base protects low. Now stand with one foot
pointed at me, the other over there. Put your free arm back out of danger
like so…” Two hours later, I was
tired, aching, and no longer enamored of swordplay. Jinks (the Captain’s
name) saw that I was flagging, and so called a halt to the proceedings. He
offered a drink, which I gratefully accepted, drinking thirstily until I
remembered stories of being unable to return home after eating or drinking
with the faeries. Finishing what was in my mouth with a gulp, I looked at my
teacher with a touch of fear. “I need to check something.” I said in a small
voice. Making mental contact with the Ring, I visualized my study, almost
seeing it, deserted. A moment later, I was there, and found it just as I had
imagined. Returning with the cup of ale still in my hand, I ‘saw’ the captain
with his arms akimbo just before I found myself again in his presence. “Let
me guess, you were wondering if you could ever go home again.” “I’m that easy
to read?” I asked. “It’s a reasonable fear, and normally well founded. But
you carry the Unicorn’s Ring. You are not dependant on the normal pathways.
Even Time is your ally. I envy you.” “You envy me? You want the Ring? Take
it!” I reached for the ring, but stopped when I saw sudden fear well up in
his eyes. “Truly, the Ring is yours! The Task is far beyond one of my poor
station!” He backed away as if I had sprouted a third eye. A shiver of fear
swept over me as I realized that this was a Captain of the Guard, a hardened
warrior, refusing my offer. This will be no ordinary battle. “Okay, it’s all
right.” I said. “But I still want to try an experiment. Take my hand.” I
offered my other hand to him. Cautiously, he took it. In another moment, we
were in the meadow I had first met Francine in. Jinks’ eyes grew wide with
wonder at the change of scene. “Such a power!” he began. I smiled slightly.
“Just a sec…” I said. Again we moved, this time into my study. He looked
around, taking close note of my computer desk, lamp, and ceiling fan from
where he stood. “What strange place is this?” he asked. “This is my study—on
Earth.” His eyes opened wide with surprise. A moment later, we were
back on the practice field. “I visited your home, it only seemed fair to let
you see mine. But enough of this. Is there a blacksmith or metalworker that
works for your king? I would like to speak with him.” Jinks took me across the
yard to another stone building, this one sporting a chimney and designed
without most of its front wall. As we approached, I could feel the heat of
the main forge radiating from it. Jinks led me into the building, where I saw
a shorter, stouter elf, built like a human except for his Vulcan ears and
translucent skin. Using the Ring to reach back to my study, I took the wooden
replica of a Bat’leth, made long ago for a ‘Klingon’ Halloween costume. It
appeared in my hand as my companions watched. A stray thought came to me that
I could become the greatest magician of all time if I so desired. I dismissed
the thought. “Can you make something like this?” I asked the smith. He took
the mockup, inspected its curved blades and multiple points, then held it by
two of its three hand-holes and tried to twirl it. The back curve of one of
the main blades caught him on his shoulder. “It’s really a little too big for
me, I think I got the dimensions wrong.” I said. Jinks took it from the smith
and twirled it twice, shifting hands as he did so. “Seems okay to me. I want
one like this.” He said to the smith.
The smith nodded and measured the length of Jinks’ arm and of the
Bat’leth. He then measured my arm and told us to return in a day. I thanked
him and we returned to the weapons storeroom. Jinks strapped a scabbard onto
my waist for my broadsword, and then fitted a bronze covered wooden shield to
my arm. He then picked up a pointy-headed helmet with a keyhole opening for
the face and placed it on my head. He reached for more armor to strap onto
me, and I remembered the story of David and Goliath. “Jinks? Do I really have
to wear all this?” “Only if you want to survive the dragon.” I remembered that Francine had said
something about Erin being killed by a dragon and decided that David’s God
was far better protection than Francine’s Ring. Soon I was fitted out with
chest plate, leggings, arm and shoulder guards, and bronze-topped shoes. “Is
there a reason I haven’t seen iron or steel weapons here?” I asked. I had not
seen anything made of that material while I was here. “That poisonous metal?”
Jinks exclaimed. “Dwarves sometimes use it against us, because they fear our
magics. But we will never use such infernal stuff!” He looked closely at my
wristwatch, and scowled. “I see you wear a circlet of iron!” His distaste
then turned to suspicion. “Treachery! Who are you, and what is your mission
here?” His sword was suddenly at my throat. “Easy, Jinks! I only asked
because I didn’t know!” Putting my hand to his blade, I covertly tested to
see if it could harm me. It could not. But was the protection coming from the
Ring or the watchband? I backed away, trying to give him some sense of
security. “Look,” I said, displaying its function. “It’s called a watch. It
helps me to keep track of time on my world. The band is stainless steel, but
that’s so it will last longer. I break leather and plastic straps in less
than a year.” His anger seemed to give way slightly to confusion. “Know you
not that it is proof against our magics?” he asked gruffly. “Know not.” I
replied. “Or knew not, since you just told me.” Then I realized what question
I needed to ask. “Does iron protect against all magic, or just yours?” “Only
ours, more’s the pity.” “Then since time on my world is not like yours, I have
no need for this.” I took off my watch and using the ring, sent it back to my
bureau top back home in a show of good faith. Jinks took my action as it was
meant, and most of our former camaraderie was restored. “If you intend on
killing that dragon today, I suggest you get started. I can teach you much
more, but it will require the one thing the unicorn has little left of,
time!” “What do you mean? She’s over 800 years old. She has more time than
anyone I ever heard of!” “Yes, Champion, but not even a unicorn is immortal.
Her time is nearly spent. She will petition the Seventh World in a matter of
days.” But she seemed so youthful, I thought. So, is it a world that I am to
save, or…Francine? Taking my leave of Jinks,
I drew my sword and engaged the Ring, to find myself at the entrance to the
Dragon’s den. Wishing Francine was around to back me up, I crept toward the
darkness. “Yoo-hoo, I see you!” came a basso voice from somewhere beyond the
light. What a strange greeting! “Hello, Dragon.” I replied. “Nice of you to
warn me of your presence. Are you always so kindhearted?” “Let’s just say I’m
feeling generous today.” He replied. “Where is your pet unicorn?” “I wish I
knew.” I sighed. “Look, Dragon, I want you to know I have nothing personal
against you. I have no real wish to harm you, I don’t even particularly want
your gold!” I began. A loud huff came from the darkness. “A Human who doesn’t
love gold! He’s either a rare bird indeed or a great LIAR!” A bright yellow
flame erupted from behind a rock on the right hand side of the cave. Egad! A fire-breathing
dragon! Francine, you are nuts! “That’s it! Forget it! I don’t CARE
what Francine wants; I’m not doing this! I’m out of here.” I stood up
straight, turned around, and began walking away. After a few seconds, I heard
movement within the cave. “WAIT!” rumbled the dragon. I turned around to see
him already halfway out of the cave. He was quick! I felt the hackles rise at
the back of my neck as I stopped to face him. I couldn’t imagine how he had
fit into that cave! His shoulder must have been 8 ft above the ground. I
guessed his length at about 25 to 30 ft. Huge yellow eyes and large black
nostrils, 8-inch fangs and tufted ears. His scales were iridescent and
multicolored, with green and yellow dominating below, black and red above.
Short, stubby wings, useless for flight, but great for display, flashed black
and silver like great Japanese fans. Francine had expected me to kill this?
I’d sooner destroy a Ming vase. “Are you a coward?” the
dragon asked. “I don’t think so. Why should you care?” I replied. He leaned
forward a little. “Cowards are soft— and tasty. And I— am hungry!” He snapped his jaws and flames shot 4
ft from his snout, but I only felt a little heat. Why didn’t his nostrils
burn? And what kind of fuel did he use? Low energy content, I was willing to
bet it was biogas. Which meant he was probably a vegetarian? He saw the spark
of interest, and noted that I had angled closer, with sword and shield
lowered. His head came up and suddenly he was looking at me from 12 ft in the
air. “You’re not afraid of me.” He said. A wry smile crept onto my face. “I
don’t know, yet. I’ve heard two stories about dragons, and I’m not sure which
is true.” “Tell me these stories.” He said. “Why not? One says that you are cunning,
highly intelligent, — and extremely evil. The other says that you are —
mentally challenged, and innocent as any carnivore can be.” His wings snapped up and
out with indignation. “You, a HUMAN, charge ME with being evil? I think I’ll
eat you where you stand!” “That might prove difficult,” I replied in an
offhand manner, covering my fast-rising anger. “But you’re welcome to try!”
Taking up Jinks’ fighting stance, I raised my shield and menaced him with the
sword as he feinted with a snakelike strike from where he stood. I crouched
low and spun right as his open mouth smacked down into the ground. Right
where I had been standing. Ever since I can remember, I’ve answered challenge
with challenge. It no longer mattered how beautiful he was, this dragon was
in for a fight! I struck at his neck with the long edge of my blade using a
two-handed blow, but the attack only bounced harmlessly off and slid down his
armored neck Shaking his head like a wet dog’s, he rose up again for another
attack. This time, he swiped at me with his fore claw, raking my shield and
armor, and knocking me off my feet. I landed with a thud and saw stars for
just a moment. Hoping the Ring could still teleport me in the dragon’s
presence, I ‘saw’ myself standing to his left, just behind his front
shoulder. It worked! Quickly, before he realized where I had gone, I plunged
the sword’s tip through his upper chest to the hilt, then levered downward
into his vitals. He gave a startled jerk and looked down to where I stood. “Oww!” He rose up about a
foot, then began to settle towards the ground. “That hurt!” He collapsed,
rolling toward me as I quickly stepped aside. Lying on his back, he began
huffing and panting, “What did you do that for?” he managed between gasps. “I
only gave you a little slap!” Blood was pumping from his wound now, and
leaking from his mouth as his life slowly ebbed away. Confused, and
suspicious of trickery, I stood about 20 ft away, waiting for him to rise and
continue his attack. But he only laid there, struggling for each breath. My
anger drained as I watched, growing uncomfortable while he labored, his
question still hanging in the air. What could I say? Was I a Nazi, just
following orders? Did my own anger make ME the monster? “It was the unicorn,
wasn’t it?” he continued finally. I looked away, unable to watch his pain. “I
think she hates you for killing one of her Champions.” I replied at last.
“For what it’s worth, though, I think you’ve shown me something important. If
I am indeed an instrument of prophecy, then you have probably just helped to
save your world.” He sniffed at that, sounding almost like a steam
locomotive. “Small comfort in that.” He replied. There was a long pause,
punctuated only by his labored breathing. Finally, he gave a loud bellow, accompanied
by a 20 ft flame shooting upward, harmlessly, into the air, and collapsed
into a silent heap on the ground. Was he really dead? I recalled a lance
Jinks had given me earlier and picked it out of the air. Cautiously, I walked
forward, and prodded the beast with the lancet tip. Nothing. Probing deeper
into his chest produced no reaction either. I had done it. I had killed a
dragon, although for the life of me I still did not understand why it was
important. I teleported to the castle and informed Jinks that the dragon was
dead. He then sent a small detachment with a couple of carts to butcher and
retrieve the carcass. Apparently, they wanted to prepare a banquet in my
honor. Go figure. I told them I would not be eating anything I had talked
with, and returned the weapons to Jinks. I decided it was time to go home. As I stepped out of my
study, Jenny jumped up from the couch, and ran to meet me. “You’re back! Tell
me, Daddy! What was it like? Did you see Francine? Did you meet any pixies?
Did you see Peter Pan? What was it like?” I smiled as she came charging at me
with such an onslaught of questions, both happy to see her and taken aback by
her excitement. Slowly, the bloodguilt I had felt earlier was washed away,
replaced by the here-and-now of her childish enthusiasm. Returning her hug, I
began telling her about my visit. Her eyes grew round when I described the
dragon, but I refrained from telling about our battle. “So when do I get to
see Francine again?” she asked.
I decided that a few minutes’ visit wouldn’t hurt anything, so I said
“How about right now!” Grabbing her about her middle, I whirled her
around through the air, and brought us both back to the Meadow where Francine
was already waiting. Jenny’s delighted giggles turned to joyful astonishment
as she looked around and saw the unicorn she had first met during her San
Francisco trip. “Francine?”
Jenny launched away from me and ran to the grayish white unicorn, burying her
face in its neck and squeezing almost hard enough to cause her discomfort.
Looking at me, Francine gleefully asked, “Is she always like this?”
Smiling, I replied, “Only when she meets a Unicorn. She’s loved everything
about them, er, you, since she was about 3.” “I could get used to
this!” She said. “And I am glad you came back. I spoke with Jinks and he told
me about your victory.” I gave her a warning look; she glanced at Jenny,
nodded, and continued. “Your prize has been collected, and is ready for your
disposition. You’re a rich man.” “Francine, there was a lot of luck involved
in what you had me do. I’m still not clear on why you had me do it.
This is not a warrior’s task. If it were, Jinks would have been a better
choice than me.” Francine eyed me seriously. “There is an ancient prophecy
which was given to us long before even I was born.” She began. “It states
that the Prince of Darkness would attempt a conquest on each of the Seven
Worlds. His first attack was on the Seventh World itself, from which he was
ignominiously cast out by the warrior Michael. Of the attack on your world,
you are already fully cognizant. When our world came under the attack, we
understood that our Champion would also come from the world last assaulted by
the Dark Prince. Your line can be traced to the changeling child, Moses
Rowantree, which means that it is your birthright to enter our world. It is
your destiny to destroy the power of the Dark Prince, although I confess I
know not how.” Messiah? I don’t think so! “Francine, I am no Messiah! And I will not countenance
worship of any but the Lord God, whose heaven is that which you call the
Seventh World.” “That is your
choice.” She replied. “But the Prophesy of Crysalicus came directly to us from the Seventh World, and we
are out of time. Refuse the Challenge, and the consequences will be beyond imagining.”
Great. No pressure there! “Fine. But no more random acts of violence! I
will decide how to win your…” I saw Jenny watching me. “…contest.
Understood?” Francine looked at me coldly. Just then, Jenny piped up with
“The lady on TV talked about random acts of kindness yesterday. Maybe that
could work?” I looked at her for several moments. “Maybe it could, darling,
maybe it could. But I think it is time for you to go home now, all right?”
“Oh, Daddy, do I have to?” Francine seemed to regain her old demeanor, and
said “I can take her to the banquet if you like. She’ll be safe there.” I
looked at her, appraising, for several moments. “All right,” I acquiesced.
“let’s walk.”
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