The Jester held his arms open wide, unveiling the room with aplomb. “The treasure room, Sir.” He stood overlooking the room from a landing. Barrels and crates lined the walls, stuffed with coins, treasures and global antiquities. What presumably were the Lord’s favourite pieces were displayed on finely carved tables and cabinets.

Crimson Hood stood beside the Jester. “And what a finely stocked treasure room it is! Have at it, lady and gents.” Klár motioned to the growing number of men as she set off towards the narrow stone stairway down to the treasures. They followed in single file, carrying large sacks and thick coils of rope.

They reached the bottom and Klár directed them this way and that, the men following her orders to the letter. Some of the men cleared the cabinets into their sacks, the now empty furniture tipped and tossed to the side. Some heaved and shoved at the crates and rolled the barrels to the center of the room.

Crimson Hood watched on as his men worked at the treasure. Satisfied with their progress, he stepped to the stairwell to join them.

The Jester followed Hood, several steps behind as they began to descend. “I must congratulate you, Crimson Hood, for coming so far. Truly an act of wonder.”

“Oh Jester, you spoil me with your praise. But believe me when I say— this is nothing but a Thursday!”

“How foolish you are, Crimson Hood! To have not even recognised your primary foil and very own archnemesis—” the Jester threw his jingling hat to the stairs with an elaborate swing of his arm. He hooked his thumbs under an article below his neck ruffle and retrieved it, smoothing it and styling it around his neck. “The Lavender Neckerchief!” he proclaimed, raising his chin with a pout. “I knew this loot was too much for you and your band of miscreants to resist! You will never escape this castle with your lives!”

“Ha!” came the Crimson Hood’s reply as he turned to face his freshly revealed archnemesis on the stairs. “You think you know me so well, Lavender Neckerchief? Well, there’s at least one thing that you do not know about me!” Hood retrieved a fine silver flute from within his jacket and with it he played the most magnificent, beautiful little tune that the Jes— Lavender Neckerchief had ever heard.

“You can play the flute?” said Lavender Neckerchief, holding back a tear.

“Make that two things you don’t know! The other is much more impressive!”

An otherworldly shrieking began to grow, drowning out the men as they worked now at a faster pace, wrapping the barrels and crates with their rope. “What are you playing at, Hood? My men are springing from their hiding places and preparing to defeat you and your men once and for all!”

Hood wasn’t listening. His head bobbed and swayed delicately as he lost himself in the shrieking and the growing howls of wind. “It’s beautiful isn’t it. She hears the call!”

The shrieking was right on top of them. A chill crept through the Lavender Neckerchief, his hairs standing on end. The stone walls trembled, shook and came apart as if they were a child’s wooden blocks. The large stones were flung in all directions as two giant clawed paws pushed through them with ease.

“I have a dragon!” shouted Crimson Hood, bounding down the remainder of the stairs. The dragon beat her wings, lowering through the hole punched in the wall and perched atop the platform of barrels and crates now built in the centre of the room. The men had found safe positions opposite the crumbling wall for the dragon’s arrival, and now sprung towards the platform.

Neckerchief lowered himself slowly to the steps, his hand tracing the stone wall to guide him. He sat in wonder, mesmerised by the heavy yet majestic beating wings. “He has a dragon?”

Crimson Hood bounded aboard the platform and flung himself atop the dragon’s burgundy-scaled shoulders. “Morgaine, you beautiful beast! Rise!”

Morgaine beat her enormous wings, her claws grasping at the platform, and they were airborne. The men clung to the barrels and crates, wrapping their limbs amongst the rigging. They pumped their fists and laughed as Morgaine powered them up and out into the star filled sky.

Crimson Hood waved back to the castle, now far below. “So long, Neckerchief! I’m sure we’ll meet again!”

Lavender Neckerchief stood, peering out of the gaping hole in the stone wall. He watched as the huge beast heaved the makeshift platform of treasures. “He has a dragon?”

END 

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Chris

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