The Defenders of Prali

Copyright © 2014 by Davidson L. Haworth.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-2711-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-2713-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-2712-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014904184

iUniverse rev. date: 02/28/2014

Contents

Book One

Chapter 1 Humble Beginnings And Deadly Consequences

Chapter 2 Calling Of The Sword

Chapter 3 The Trinity Alliance

Chapter 4 A Binding Friendship

Chapter 5 A Brave New World

Chapter 6 Faith Hope And Honor

Chapter 7 Challenge And Infliction

Chapter 8 All Things Must End

Chapter 9 Rising Vengeance

Chapter 10 The Golden Church

Chapter 11 Truth Without Temptation

Chapter 12 Return To Innocents

Book Two

Chapter 1 The Wizard And The Saint

Chapter 2 Devastation And Forgiveness

Chapter 3 The Oncoming Storm

Chapter 4 Visions And Missions

Chapter 5 The Rising Tide

Chapter 6 The Toll Bridge And The Servant

Chapter 7 The Three Avenging Spirits

Chapter 8 The Culture War

Chapter 9 Repentance Of Prali

Chapter 10 The Confrontation

Chapter 11 Saint Bernard’s Pass

Chapter 12 Magic And Miracles

Book Three

Chapter 1 The Spring Crusade

Chapter 2 Mystery Of Shadow

Chapter 3 Eastern Rite

Chapter 4 King Risika And The Plans Of Conquest

Chapter 5 The Torment Of Souls

Chapter 6 In Search For Truth

Chapter 7 The Battle Of Carinthia

Chapter 8 The Deadly Inferno

Chapter 9 The Drums Of War

Chapter 10 Uniting Force

Chapter 11 Swords And Scimitars

Chapter 12 The Long Goodbye

The Journey Home

Acknowledgments

For my father

Robin L. Haworth

THE DRAGON OF PRALI

BEING THE FIRST PART

OF

The Defenders of Prali

BOOK ONE

CHAPTER 1

HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

AND DEADLY CONSEQUENCES

At the dawn of time large creatures walked the earth, through time these creatures developed. During the era of the dinosaur and before the dawn of man, flying beasts flew through the sky. These great creatures were known as fire breathers from ancient text some believed. The fire breathers are the reason for the extinction of the Pterodactyl, and eventually they would conquer the entire dinosaur kingdom. The fire breathers found themselves on top of the food chain, feasting on all that they desired. Centuries came and went like sands in an hourglass, and eventually the fire breathers faced a new and upcoming species… . Man. The homosapien was the first encounter of intelligent life for the fire breathers. Eventually man began to become the top super power of intelligent life on earth. First stealing eggs of the fire breathers, and then eventually gaining the knowledge to kill the large creatures. The fire breathers, like the dinosaurs before them began to dwindle in numbers. Soon human beings would create spears, swords, shields, the human was advancing. The fire breathers became popular in human cultures, specifically in Asia. Soon the name of dragon would attach itself to the fire breathers. Dragon the title originating from Anglo-French, naming the creatures Dragun, including another earlier version of the name from Latin, Draco, and various other names throughout the world, and the underworld. The dragon became legend in myth and story as they soon began to disappear in the world, eventually until the dragon became extinct. Men would hunt down the dragon, usually in the form of searching for a dragons nest and taking the eggs for destruction. Man formed a story of legend and still is known in the far reaches of historical fact, that if a man eats of the dragon egg he will become deformed and into the service of the dragons, a slave to the dragon master. The human servant stealing the children during the night in small towns and large cities while they slept in the comfort of their beds, feeding the children to the dragons, devouring them whole and spitting out their bones upon the ground, this would save the dragon the time to hunt down food for nourishment. Man did not dared eat of the dragon eggs.

Dragon eggs and dragons in general officially became extinct around the year 200A.D… Dragons lived in the lands of Asia and parts of Europe and Britannia. Asia held onto the legends more so than the lands of Europe. Europe used the dragon to glorify heroes or great warriors. Telling tales of men who would hunt and kill the dragons. The story of Saint George and the dragon, from fourth century literature glamorizing man as the dominating species over the dragons, and history tells that the dragon slain by Saint George was the last to ever roam earth. The cultures In Asia glorify the dragon species in artistic depictions and through dance. In the glory days of the dragon, there was a variety of different races of dragon throughout the world depending on region and climate. In the lands of cold climates you would have a snow dragon, or some called them white dragons, or ice dragons. In warmer climates you would have fire dragons. Fire dragons had their power from the fire they would unleash from their jaws, warm blooded with a burning desire to use their fire breath for defense and too also use it to cook their victims, and then eat them whole, a warm meal. The white dragon was the opposite of its fire cousin. The white dragon would swoop down and grab its prey, freezing the victim with its claws. This was used to store the meat and keep it fresh, something the fire dragon could not do. Later in the white dragon’s evolution, the creature would use its fire breath to melt the victim and choose to eat the carcass fresh or a hot repast. Another dragon that is popular in legend, but not as popular as the white or fire dragon, is the forest dragon. This dragon, as its title, lives in the forests of Europe and parts of Asia. This creature is short in stature and uses stealth. Adult forest dragons only grow to the length of 5 feet tall, and slender. Man attempted to make these Dragons pets, but failed to do so. These were wild beasts that could not be tamed.

Deep within the caverns of the Italian mountains, near the French borders. A lone egg remained hidden, surrounded by ice that never thawed due to high elevations within the mountain range, the egg laid dormant for hundreds of years, lying silent through the age of earliest man. This lone egg is the last of a species gone extinct. The last of its kind in the entire world, yet unique that it is also the first of its kind, or soon will be due to future natural occurrences, soon the world would know a new name in terror. Unfortunately for the inhabitants of the Italian mountains and the surrounding areas, the mountain where the egg laid within the caves was an actual volcano. Lying dormant for hundreds of years, time had forgotten the volcano, and the last of its violent eruptions. To all who lived in the area it was just a large mountain with endless caverns that reached to the center of the world. What the inhabitants did not know was that it was several previous eruptions that formed the caverns. Suddenly without warning, grumbling began to fill the valleys surrounding the mountain with violent sounds. From atop of the mountain, smoke begins to puff from its summit. The grumbling persisted for days as the inhabitants looked up towards the Alps with a slight disturbance. The people thought danger would not come to them.

The nearest town close to the mountain was a small town named Prali. The town paid no mind to the mountain, all thought the sounds and smoke would soon pass, and all would be well. There were few who had left the town fearing the mountains violent sounds, but not enough to make an exodus impact among the population. Days turned into weeks until on that one fateful night as a bright red and orange color began to form on the mountain peak. Smoke flowed from the mountain uncontrollably. Within the mountain, the egg of the dragon, the same egg that laid dormant for hundreds of years began to stir. With the heat of the mountains flowing lava crept closer to the egg, the lava rose to the peak of the mountain from the earth’s mighty core. The egg began to thaw from its icy prison, shaking lose. The heat melting the ice, the egg now completely dislodged as it slowly rolls through the darkened cavern. Suddenly the egg continues progressing towards a small patch of icy water, falling to a lower cavern, the egg now below the lava flow of the mountain. A drop of lava seeps through the ceiling of the cavern and falls upon the egg. The egg remains silently still while sitting upon the ice. With the heat of the lava and the cold of the ice, the egg begins to crack. Slowly the creature from within the egg begins to shift and breaks the outer shell, freeing itself and becoming part of the new world, a world that his ancestors have no knowledge of. He is a new breed of dragon in a changing world of man. The small adolescent dragon finally breaks free from the egg and slowly adjusts his eyes to his new world. For years this small dragon would live within the caves of the mountain of the desolate and dangerous Italian mountains. He would feed from the rats and mice that lived within the caves, and drink from streams within the isolated caverns, this dragon was a one of a kind.

Years later near the small village of Prali, several miles from the Italian mountains is a small Franciscan monastery. The Franciscan order during this time was a new and exciting way to evangelize the faith. This certain order that lay near the town of Prali, and home to several brothers and priests was growing daily. These brothers and priests came from all over Europe and the known world, from Ireland to the holy land. Still the order was facing new challenges due to the recent passing of their founder Francis of Assisi. One monk belonging to the order, and living within the monastery was Brother Bernard. Bernard was a slightly tall young man, but meek in nature, brown hair and an athletic build, face scruffy with a bit of a beard, and yet he was a very gentle person. His duties in the order were simple, do the work that the other brothers wouldn’t do. For example Bernard’s day may consist of rubbing clean the brass railings within the church, or sweeping the floors of the monastery. Bernard did all the thankless jobs; it seemed the world was at peace, except for Bernard. He grew irritated towards his duties and wanted more, something of great responsibility.

This morning brother Bernard was busy milking the cows of the monastery. The sun was shining and the birds flew overhead singing the praises of the first day of spring. All was well in the world; all was well with Bernard, except for his dislike towards his duties to the monastery. The stench of the cows as they flatus and fill the stable with an unwanted scent of displeasure. Bernard milked away, filling up the bucket with fresh milk for tonight’s dinner for his brothers. Bernard looked at the cow he was milking and said, Almost done you filthy animal. Bernard spattered towards the cow. Suddenly the cow looks away from Bernard and lets out a monstrous sound coming from its back end. Bernard smelling the stench only a slight moment later grew angry with the beast, Awful you horrid animal! The monk disciplining the farm animal with his words of displeasure, rising from his bent state of milking the cow as he looks around him in the dark stable. He walks around to the cows back end and slaps the animal from behind. The cow let out a crying moo, as the monk walks away with his bucket filled with milk that he had taken from the cows this morning.

The young monk walks to the monastery kitchen where he is constantly going back and forth from stable to kitchen, walking steady as he can making sure not to drop an ounce of milk. Bernard thought it wise to hold the milk bucket with two hands and pressing it against his chest. He walks with extreme caution, and turning the corner into the kitchen. Surprisingly a black cat runs between his legs darting out the kitchen door and down the three steps between Bernard’s legs. The hapless monk trips as the cat scrambles to safety while the stumbling monk falls onto the small steps leading into the kitchen and onto his back. Bernard laid there, his back upon the kitchen steps; milk covered his body from head to chest. He slowly rises and looks into the bucket, Just enough for a few cups of milk. Bernard says to himself as he tries to look positive about the situation. The young Franciscan could feel the eyes of someone looking at him, he felt this ominous sense. Looking up from his stumbling ceramic tile view he notices the monastery cook looking down on him with distain and irritation in his eyes, Bernard!! Can’t you do anything right? The cook who was not a brother of the order but a hired hand from the village, his name is Anthony Grossus the toughest cook in all of Prali. Heavy in stature and bald as a naked mole rat, his face as ugly as a star nosed mole, Bernard looks up and gives an insecure smile and then rises to his feet. He hands the bucket of milk to Anthony with a nervous shake. I’m so sorry Anthony… . The cat had jumped out of the kitchen causing me to tumble a bit. Bernard doing his best to explain his plight to Anthony as the cook just shaking his bald shiny head, How could you Bernard? You blaming a cat for your clumsiness, for Pete sake you’re a Franciscan who should be always vigilant for such things especially a cat, I thought you boys could talk to animals!

Anthony takes the bucket from Bernard and looks down into the bottom and swishes what little remained of the milk. The cook shakes his head and turns his back towards the monk. Bernard looked down and noticed the milk upon his chest and thinking it would be wise to change his clothes, but he remembered he didn’t have another habit to just pull over his head. He suddenly remembered that he had laundry needing to be completed on his chore list for the head priest. To his great disappointment he picks up a small stone from the ground near the kitchen door and with great effort he throws it into a bush. Thrashing from behind the bush, Bernard hears a loud scream. Instantly a head pops up from behind the bush, it’s one of the brothers looking dead straight at Bernard. I was meditating! The brother declares. Bernard felt worse than before after Hearing the words meditation, but it gave him a great idea. Maybe God wanted me to hit the other brother seeking solace behind the bushes. It did give me an idea.

He decides to go to the chapel and pray before doing the laundry for the entire monastery. The monastery was one large building overlooking the small Italian village. In the morning the sun would rise from just behind the monastery. The local villagers thought upon it as a sign from God every morning that a new day dawned and that the monastery would always be there to help the inhabitants. Bernard’s dream is to someday do the work that his brothers perform. To go door to door and preach the word of God, maybe to help those in need at the local hospital, or at times just to play with the children in the streets. Like most monks Bernard was simple and kind within his heart. All he ever wanted to do was to help others in need. He felt that the day would never come and he was destined to be a novice monk for the rest of his days.

The chapel being the largest room in the monastery, the perimeter walls adorned with massive stain glass windows of great saints. Stain glass windows are used to tell bible stories to all who entered the church. This was done due to the fact that most of the villagers didn’t know how to read. The windows would be able to preach to them without words. It spoke to the villagers with sight. Bernard dipping his hand in the font of holy water before entering the church as he crosses himself, he whispers, Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. The stain glass windows being from left to right from Bernard as he approaches the altar, the sun peering into the church through the windows emanating different colors, red, orange, blue, an assortment. The first windows to catch the monk’s eye are of Saint Patrick and Saint George. Bernard turned to each of them saying, Good day boys. He continues walking a few steps more, and comes to the windows of Saint Clare and Saint Bridget, bowing to each, A real pleasure ladies.

Bernard continues to walk down the aisle of the church until he comes to the church kneelers before the altar. Ahead of him is a Franciscan cross called the San Domiano. It is just a replica of the original, but it didn’t matter to Bernard. He kneels before the altar and crosses himself once more before clasping his hands together in prayer. He gave a deep sigh and thought of all the troubles of the morning. The day was just beginning, but Bernard was feeling that it is time for the sun to go down. Being a Franciscan brother it was not a relaxed way of life. Bernard would rise in the morning with the other monks around four in the morning. Prayers would be conducted in the church at four-thirty. Breakfast was always at six in the morning, and work was conducted and performed to perfection until noon. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner always being served in the main dining hall as prayers and storytelling was conducted by the head priest. After lunch there would be more prayers, and then more work till dinner. In the evening it would be more prayers, and then after nine in the evening would be bedtime for all. Work and prayers, that’s all Bernard ever knew. He was a product of a devoted religious family. His parents would go to daily mass and he would serve as an altar boy until he finished his study at the age of sixteen. All Bernard knew was the church. He had never traveled; he knew nothing in the ways of the world. He knew the world by speaking to his fellow brothers who were from different kingdoms around Europe.

Bernard looks up towards the Franciscan cross above the altar. My good Father, I ask that someday I may prove myself to the world that there is more to me than fetching milk and polishing brass, and cleaning floors. I want to make a difference in the world. I want to feel as if I am contributing to my community and to my brothers. The Franciscan paused to hear the silence of the church, and then continues to pray. Holy God give me a sign that there is more to me than a servant to my brothers. Bernard suddenly hears a sound, as if coming from the altar. He crosses himself with lightning speed in hope for that glorious sign from God. Brother Bernard! Don’t you think you need to get to your work? You may pray after lunch. Walking from the side of the altar, entering the church was father Giovanni. It was his voice that Bernard had heard. Giovanni was a tall priest, but portly shaped, with a long beard and was slow moving. He always smelled like fine wine, Bernard always thought. The disappointment on Bernard’s face was evident. He wanted the sign from God, and then his heart sunk even more when he realized that maybe that was the sign. Bernard rose from the church kneeler and said. Yes father Giovanni, Thank you for reminding me of what God wants me to do. Father Giovanni glaring towards his subject as if Bernard was lazy and just trying to get out of his work by pretending to pray. Father Giovanni had watched Bernard until he had left the church. It was back to the kitchen for Bernard.

Flustered and tired the young monk walks the pathway to the kitchen and suddenly hears screams of horror down below in the small town, some distance away from the monastery. He turns to look at what the commotion was about when suddenly to his dismay he could not believe what he now witnessed. Smoke bellowing from several of the town structures, fire and smoke now visible, even at far distances. Bernard fell to the ground as his bottom hit the soft green grass of the monastery. He could not believe what he had seen next. From the sky flying between the smoke and ash flowing from the town, a large creature, a dragon. Bernard in great shock as he had heard of dragons from legends and stories, but all was just that, stories. The young monk realized it was now a reality and this reality was now wreaking havoc in the town below. The monks and priests from the monastery now surrounded Bernard as they all witness the destruction of this phenomenon. The mouths of the brothers were agape and in awe. It was silent between them all, as they stand in shock. Not a word was said, only the sounds of screaming town’s people and the crackling of the buildings below, as the fire consumed them.

The dragon flies through the sky as a graceful swan on the lake. The creature having complete domination of the town and its people, everything for the taking as the dragon scans the town while he swoops down, fire releasing from his jaws. Only moments pass, the dragon finally finding what he was looking for, a fresh human to devour. All his life within the caves of the mountains he had tasted rat, snake, goat, and finally worked his appetite to appreciate the taste of a fine cow or ox, he had never tasted a human before, and he was curious. A young woman about the age of twenty was running through the streets of the town doing her best to avoid the wretched creature and its destruction of the town. Without warning the dragon flew down to the street as the woman ran for her life screaming with fear. In a matter of seconds the dragon opened his jaws and the woman was gone as if she disappeared. The girl eaten and just another victim of the new enemy facing the town, and within moments the dragon continued flying down towards to people, another victim in his grasp, another young girl. The dragon realizing his handy work disappeared upward into the sky diving in and out of the clouds above the town.

The brothers could no longer watch the horror as the woman was gone. Father Giovanni looked at his brothers and said. We must gather fresh water and bandages and go into the town and help the people. The brothers looked at the father as they begin to slowly move back into the monastery and prepare for the short journey below to help the inhabitants. Father Giovanni looked onward as the town burned to the ground, he stood strong and resolute. Bernard rising from the ground and walking with the others to prepare for their sorrowful journey into the town to help as much as they can in this desperate hour of need while thoughts of the people run through his mind and what can he do for those who are hurt. The brothers gathered their belongings and headed down to the town single file in a long line of brothers and priests. Father Giovanni walking with them from behind while Bernard was just one of many brothers walking towards the devastation, the smoke and ash covering the town while Bernard and the brothers began to cough as they inhale the smoke. Bernard taking a large towel and dipping it in a jug of water he carried for the victims. He placed the towel around his face. This would help protect him from breathing the smoke into his lungs, but his eyes were beginning to tear up as the smoke began to burn his eyes.

The town was gone in a single moment. The smell of burnt flesh now filled the air as the brothers now walked through the devastation. Lives had been destroyed, families gone from existence. Bernard stood in the center of the town as smoke, ash, and burnt flesh filled the day time sky. From ground level it almost seems night, the smoke takes over the sky. Father Giovanni looks towards the brothers saying. Friars go and help all those in need. Priests go to the dying and give last rites. Father Giovanni glaring towards poor brother Bernard instructs. My son Bernard, go and gather the dead for burial. Giovanni speaking with a stern tone, but very sorrowful in nature, Giovanni had much on his mind and it seemed everyone was in complete shock.

Bernard furious on the inside, but humble outwardly. Again feeling as if he is insignificant to the father and the rest of the brothers, the young monk felt inadequate and alone in the world. Yet this could be due to Bernard’s stubbornness and his unwillingness to except the request of Giovanni. Bernard combing the town or what is left of it, looking for the dead. He spent the day piling up the bodies and placing them in a cornfield. Two local farmers began to dig a large hole for Bernard to dispose of the bodies. The town smelling of burnt flesh and ash filled the air. Bernard did all he can while his brothers and the fathers do their duty, and do the best they can to help the towns people.

By nightfall the hole in the ground created by the farmers was filled with deceased town folk. Bernard had spent the whole day preparing the bodies for final departure. The two farmers along with the monk stood at the edge of the hole, and from behind the brothers and fathers of the monastery walked towards them. The town folk followed the holy men as Gregorian chant filled the air and replacing the filth of the ashen sky. Father Giovanni nods to Bernard with approval of the perfection of his duty. Giovanni looked down into the filled hole of the dead and grabbed holy water from a brother standing next to him, the holy water being contained in a small bottle. Giovanni said a prayer in Latin, and then began to sprinkle the dead with holy water. A few prayers were said by father Giovanni as the brothers and the town inhabitants followed along. It was a time of great sorrow and Bernard along with many others wondered how the town would rebuild after such an event and what of this dragon? The people were more in shock over the dragon as they were about the tragedy. A dragon was just myth and legend. Something your parents told in stories before bed. Now it seems the stories are now reality. Once the father completed the prayers, town’s people begin to disperse from the scene as the farmers begin to shovel dirt into the hole slowly covering the bodies of the victims, an unmarked grave for many of the dead, and an unforgettable grave for an unforgettable event.

It had been a long day as the sun begins to fall behind the Italian mountain side. Giovanni ordered the brothers and priests back to the monastery. Bernard followed and as he walked he thought of how this all occurred, and would this dragon reappear? The young Franciscan was certain that the dragon would come once more, but when? In the night as the people slept in peace, or in the daylight hours as the first attack on the people happened? So much for Bernard to ponder, but he is not alone. All the people of Prali having the same thoughts and Bernard knew that the town’s people would now place guards to watch the skies, and the attack would be heard from the four corners of the world. This is the biggest event in recent times and Bernard had been a part of it. Feeling saddened that he had seen such a tragedy; he only wished he would have never witnessed or experienced the event. Now it was etched in his mind and all the people involved forever. Bernard also wondered if father Giovanni would take up arms against the dragon, or at least protect the monastery and the house of God. Bernard knew that Giovanni would follow the teaching of Saint Francis of Assisi and think of peaceful ways to detour the dragon, such as prayer and fasting. Bernard had faith in God but thought a sword may come in handy.

The walk from the small Italian town to the monastery was just a few minutes and the brothers together with the priests were there in no time. The brothers and priests spoke between themselves about the event, and all could not fathom what had taken place. Bernard knew it would take a few days to except what had just happened. He heard whispers between his brothers, as they did their best to try to remain silent. Father Giovanni cherished silence and wanted it practiced by all within the monastery. Bernard didn’t know if he wanted to keep the old monk code of silence, or that Giovanni just preferred a hushed crowd. Arriving to the front doors of the monastery the brothers and priests walked their separate ways. Bernard wondered if a late dinner was in order, then he heard father Giovanni speak as if he read his mind. Brothers and fathers, you will go down to the kitchen and take one piece of soft bread and a bowl of porridge. This will be our dinner for tonight. Giovanni paused then continued his command. We have all had a long day and we all need rest. I suggest you eat well and be up at day break for usual scheduled of prayers and duty. With those words Giovanni walked past Bernard and down the dark torch lite hall to his chambers.

Bernard stood in the hall and at the other end his room awaited. In a monastery a room where a brother or father slept was actually called a cell. A cell usually contained two monk robes, one on the person and the other hanging on a hook on the corner wall. The bed was usually made of simple straw or at times sleeping on the ground with just a small blanket to keep a person warm. Franciscans believe in poverty, not material items, and that’s how Bernard and the others within the monastery live their lives. Granted it was rough to live in such a manner, but it brought inner peace to the soul and brought one closer to God. Bernard walked to his cell and opened the door. Moonlight shining within the cell from the small window overlooking the smoldering town, the sky now clear of the ash and smoke as it would now be time for all to try and pick up what was left of their lives, and move forward. Bernard walks to his bed made of straw and lays down looking towards his window, the moonlight shining upon his face. The cool nightly breeze sauntered into the cell like a calming mother cooling down her child, and comforted Bernard of the day’s events. He slowly closed his eyes as he looked upon the stars. Father in heaven, I pray that all this will end soon and you will find the answer to protect the people from the evil that this demon dragon has brought to your people. After Bernard’s little personal prayer he fell into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile deep within the caves of the treacherous mountains a dragon that had just completed his first interaction with the local people rests. His victim being a young girl who he had swooped from the air and captured, his prey was in a frozen state; as if to be kept fresh until the dragon found it time to eat his victim. Along with the young girl are a couple of goats and a cow, all from local herds the dragon had captured in the late hours of night. Within the town there were always rumors of missing cattle or livestock. The town’s folk had made up local legends of blood sucking wolves who would roam the night looking for fresh blood. These rumors also worked to keep the local youngsters and hoodlums at bay and always looking over their shoulders. There were also rumors of local cults using the livestock for sacrifice, or local young people playing practical jokes on the farmers. All local rumors because in reality it was a dragon all along who had taken the livestock, and today the dragon made himself visible as if he was declaring war on the human population. The same type of population that killed his race and species, this creature cared not for revenge; it wasn’t in his thought or inner vocabulary. He is just surviving in a dying world.

The dragon treads over to his victims and looking at his choices as if he is pondering what he is in the mood to eat. He kept his victims in a small cave adjacent to his main living quarters within the larger cave. Under the mountain a maze of caves and the dragon having those all memorized. In this smaller cave is placed his victims, the cave floor covered with ice. Along the ceiling and walls pure ice formed around the cave. This is where he kept his meals fresh. He pondered what to eat, and he thought to himself. Hmmm. Should I have the cow this evening or a couple of goats? Then he thought some more and said in a loud and victorious roar. I shall have my second taste of man! His claws moving towards his prey, and with his index claw sifted through the cows and other farm cattle, finally reaching his meal, the young girl. Taking the dead girl within his claws he brought up the frozen innocents and breathed fire lightly melting the ice surrounding the dead girl. Ice slowly turned to water as the girl was now wet and dripping. The drops of water from her innocent body dropping slowly to the icy ground of the cave, grasping the girl in his claws the dragon moves to his main living space within the cave. Bringing the girl back toward his jaws he once again begins to breathe his fire upon her body. The fire began to slowly increase as the girl’s body begins to burn; the dragon was cooking his meal. The creature having the best of both worlds of the dragon kingdoms, having the fire breath of the legendary fire dragons of old and the power to freeze his victims with his claws as the white dragons had done so long ago. This dragon is an original, the only ever of its kind. When he hatched long ago as the volcano erupted, the fire from the volcano fused within him and melded with the dragon, giving him the power of fire and at the same time the dragon’s egg was cased in ice, giving him the power of the white dragons as the ice melded with the fire. This dragon now all powerful, the dominating force of the world and conqueror of Prali and its poor people he destroyed.

The girl now complete and ready to be devoured, the dragon brought the burnt girl to his jaws and slowly placed her within his mouth as if he was a child trying vegetables for the first time. His face soured at first, and then once the taste of the human flesh reached his taste buds he smiled in delight and said. Mmmm taste like chicken. His laugh echoed through the cave as he slowly digested his victim. I do prefer them raw. He exclaimed within his own mind. The dragon then looked to the ground and knew it would be a good time to rest for the evening. The evil creature now having other thoughts racing through his mind as he begins to dream and falls asleep to dancing dead burning young girls, unfortunately he begins to dream of more human flesh and how nice it would be to taste it again. Then he thought to himself. There’s a whole world out there. These humans… . They can be my cattle. Slowly his dream of the human flesh and his sleepy eyes overtook him as he laid down to rest.

CHAPTER 2

CALLING OF THE SWORD

Another day bloomed over the mountain tops, the day after the most horrifying experience witnessed by the people of the mountain village of Prali. Within the Monastery a lone monk stands in the entry of a hallway. Only the light of the hall torches bring out his silhouette along the monastery walls. The monk holding a frying pan in his right hand and in his left he holds a wooden spoon. Suddenly he begins to slowly walk down the long corridor passing one cell after another. He tightens his grip around the frying pan handle and the wooden spoon. Clang! Clang! Clang! Begins his morning ritual as he shouts, Rise and shine brothers! Hitting the frying pan with the wooden spoon as hard as he can, the beating of the spoon against the pan being heard echoing within the halls of the monastery.

Sound asleep in his cell Bernard dreams of his past, and of his family back home. Suddenly he is startled from his slumber by a shout and a clang that he has heard a hundred times. The monk rises from his slumber rubbing his eyes and yawns, wishing he could sleep and never again to hear the bloated words of a fat monk yelling within the halls. The clangs cease while morning moans are heard in the hall as the monks begin to stumble out of their cells. Bernard rises to his feet and walks over to his small closet where his monks robe is hanging alone with nothing else to accompany it within the closet, it’s all Bernard needed. A brother had no need for anything else, no need for material items that would corrupt the mind. Bernard takes the old robe from his body and places it in the closet as he takes the clean robe and slips it over his head adjusting it to his comfort. He places his rosary beads in his pocket, it’s the only weapon a brother needed against his enemy. Bernard then takes a rope and ties it around his waist to act as a belt. Adjusting himself he turns towards the window and looks down into the small town that once was. Bernard thinking of the families of the town, and how happy all were just twenty-four hours before the attack by the dragon, and how life has changed for everyone. What Bernard did not realize was that yesterday’s events were just a beginning of what was yet to come in his life.

Bernard could hear from outside his door footsteps of his brothers leaving their cells and making their way to the chapel. He heard only turning of door knobs and footsteps, nothing else was heard. Bernard walked over to his sandals and placed them on his feet. He was now ready to face another day in the life of a Franciscan brother and knew once he walked out from his cell that composure must be kept. No looking tuckered out and distraught, only dapper for the day. Taking his right hand and turning the knob of his cell door he walks out into the corridor, seeing his fellow brothers shuffling down the tight corridor and towards the chapel of the monastery. Bernard placed his hands to his hood and lifting it over his head wanting to be hidden and silent; he wanted to be alone as his thoughts of the two young girls who became victims of a creature from hell danced in his mind. Bernard could only hide in his habit, it was the only place he can seek solace. Following his brothers into the chapel for Morning Prayer and contemplation he rubbed his eyes once more as his vision blurred from the darkness and candlelight, not even the cock had begun to crow as it was so early. The brothers filed into the chapel with Bernard walking in from behind. He took the most convenient place within the chapel, last row, far corner. He felt safe in the dark corner of the chapel, he felt safe not being seen. Bernard didn’t want to be heard or seen, he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, but that is a luxury no monk ever has in life. Brothers and priests had to be ready to embrace the people at all times and be ready and waiting to help all people all the time. They were the walking servants of man upon the earth, specifically chosen by God to do the works of heaven on earth.

Silence overshadowed the chapel as an occasional cough from one of the brothers could be heard. Suddenly from behind the altar a lone shadow entered, the silhouette taking the form of Father Giovanni, as the brothers noticing his arrival within the chapel they begin to sing. The song being a favorite of Bernard’s, an antiphon, Ave Regina Caeli, the melody is known for giving the listener the sense of heavenly hosts. All within the chapel sang together with Father Giovanni taking the lead. The singing can always be heard within the towns ally’s and streets. Bernard prayed it would bring some comfort to the people in the town. Once the singing had ceased Father Giovanni approaching the brothers calmly and stood before them by the altar of the chapel. Giovanni clearing his throat while looking into the eyes of his brothers and priests with great sorrow. The father begins to speak to his brotherly family. My fellow priests and humble brothers of the Franciscan order. I have held a heavy heart since yesterday’s events and I have cried to the Lord of what had taken place. We know that God sees all and we know he watches over us in all things. After my hours of prayer I came to a realization. This creature, this dragon of sorts, he is also a creation from God. Franciscans must protect all of God’s creatures, even if they commit evil. We must find forgiveness and do what we do best as Franciscans. We will help the people in the town below and give them comfort, we will do our best to forget this dragon and move on with our duties, to march on as Christian soldiers.

The Father had spoken his words of his official statement and all within the monastery must be obedient to those words. Bernard gripped the side of the pew before him. His anger overtaking him, the words of Father Giovanni brought confusion to his mind. The frustrated monk wanted to protect the town’s people and eliminate the danger from the region, to help Gods people. He can do no such thing as an action against the words of Giovanni would mean expulsion from the order. That was it? That’s all Giovanni wanted the monks to do? Pray and lend support? Bernard thinking deeply within his mind as he thought of the pain of the people of Prali and the region surrounding the small town with its vast villages that are weak to such threats like a dragon from the years long passed into history and legend, and now has returned for possible revenge with furious anger and hatred.

The monastery chapel was built by hand in the fourteenth century. Created by the hands of the Franciscan brothers who decided to come to the small villages of the mountains preaching the good news of Christianity through actions and if need be words. The chapel walls and floors were crafted from the sturdy solid rock of the Mount Genis Pass near the town of Torino. The stained glass windows shined through the chapel as the windows were placed on both sides of the walls, a total of fourteen stained glass windows. The crucifix was a replica of the San Damiano cross, the altar was simple as a Franciscan altar should be and made from local trees. The chapel was adjacent to the main halls of the monastery and was a simple place of worship. The Stations of the Cross could be seen between the stained glass windows. The monastery itself has thirty-nine brothers and four fathers within the walls. The monastery first started with only one priest and two brothers but it has flourished in the few short years it has been in existence.

Father Giovanni looks at the brothers and priests with a concerned gaze and an eagle eye. He continued to speak to his brothers about the situation. I know some of you may think and feel that we must engage this dragon. Listen my friends; we are a community of peace loving Franciscans. The men of the town and the surrounding areas will be more than ready to take on the challenge and bring the war to this dragon. It is not in our best interest to go off and try to do something that is out of our hands at the moment. Giovanni glances through the chapel pews and continued. "We must stay vigilant in