Sir Peter looked up in surprise from his desk as the pair of oak doors into his hall were flung open. Before him stood an exhausted man with sweat pouring from his brow. The man looked to be a huntsman from his brown leather tunic, tall boots, green sweeping cloak and the bow slung over his back. However, his boots were covered in mud, his cloak torn and the quiver on his back was empty.
“My lord,” the man uttered breathlessly as he bent down onto one knee.
“Take a seat and tell me your news,” Sir Peter said as he gestured towards a high backed chair on the other side of his desk.
Whilst the huntsman gratefully took the offered seat, Sir Peter poured him a glass of water from the jug on the table and handed it to him. The huntsman took a long drink and placed the glass back on the table next to the jug.
“Thank you my lord. I bring grave news from the mine at Alcombe. The dragon has returned,” said the huntsman.
Sir Peter’s icey blue eyes hardened as he instinctively clutched at the hilt of his sword in the scabbard at his waist. He called to the servant stood silently behind him, “Ready my armour and steed. The beast has returned.”
Sir Peter rode along the twisting path that led up through the bracken covered hills towards the village of Alcombe and its gold mine. As he crested the final hill before Alcombe, he saw the smouldering remains of the village. All that was left of the small settlement was the charred, skeletal frames of a few of its larger buildings surrounded by scorched earth and ash. Sir Peter looked beyond the village and saw the entrance of the mine looming dark in a sheer stone cliff. Sir Peter dismounted his horse and drew his sword from the scabbard. He pulled the grilled visor down on his helmet and grimly strode towards the mine entrance. His armour shone brilliantly in the evening sun before being extinguished by the enveloping darkness of the cave.
Sir Peter crept silently through the dark tunnels of the mine. Finally, he emerged into a vast cavern where only days before Alcombe’s miners had been hard at work excavating gold. Now, they were gone and in their place was a mighty dragon. The beast lay on top of a huge mound of gold. Its large eyes were closed. Sir Peter stepped forward. He could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest. Could he slay the dragon as it slumbered? Suddenly, the dragon opened his large, yellow reptilian eyes. When it saw the armoured clad knight in front of him, it reared onto its hind legs and let out a deafening roar. The dragon spread its wings wide and its dark, shiny scales glittered in the reflected light of the gold. It turned its scaly head towards Sir Peter. The dragon snorted with contempt as he glared down at the knight stood in front of him. Black smoke began to curl slowly upwards from its flared nostrils. Sir Peter hefted his shield and prepared to face the onslaught of the fearsome wyrm.
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