Astrantian Danger

© 2006 Ian G. Hobson

Author’s Note: Most of the characters and places in Astrantia are named after plants and flowers. I pronounce Callistephus: Cal-ist-e-fus (similar to Christopher).

A Unicorn's Breakfast

Have you ever wondered what unicorns have for breakfast? No? Well, I have to admit that I haven't either, until now. Unicorns are beautiful creatures, mythical beasts, rather like horses or ponies to look at, except that they have a goat’s beard and cloven hooves, and a spiralling horn in the middle of their foreheads; a single, and very sharp, horn that could do you a lot of damage if you found yourself on the receiving end of one.

Now, you might think that if unicorns are mythical, then they don't really exist; but if you are thinking that, then you are forgetting that this is a tale from Astrantia, where mythical beasts, and even witches and warlocks, are commonplace.

***

The creature's name was Squill and he was about the size of a family cat; though he couldn’t have looked more different. He was a biloba, a lizard-like creature that walked with a twisting motion, with his snout and tail swinging from side to side; and folded neatly on his back were a large pair of wings that, occasionally, he would unfurl, so that he could leap into the air and soar high above the ground.

'Come on, Squill! You're supposed to be helping me look!' exclaimed Luzula. The young witch was Squill's mistress and, followed by her pet biloba, she was walking through the woods near the village where she lived. Not long after her ninth birthday, Luzula had found and nurtured the tiny biloba naming him Squill and carrying him around in her leather satchel, until he had become too big for it.

'Squill help, Zoola!' Squill, having found something to eat along the path, had fallen behind, but he unfurled his wings and, flapping them vigorously, he took a running jump into the air and was soon soaring above Luzula's head. 'What we look for, Zoola?'

'What are we looking for?' Luzula corrected her pet, like a mother correcting a small child, but she didn't mind being called Zoola; especially as Zoola had been Squill's first word. She laughed as Squill did a somersault in the air before twisting around and gliding skilfully down to land at her feet. He had learned to fly long before he had learned to speak.

'What are we looking for?' Squill repeated Luzula's words. He was a fast learner but would probably need to be corrected again. With a front claw, he picked something from between his teeth and then swallowed it.

Luzula pushed the hood of her cloak back on to her shoulders and tucked a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. 'What have you been eating?' she asked as she looked down at her pet. Squill had an insatiable appetite and would eat anything from caterpillars to chocolate cake.

'Found nice juicy slugs,' replied the biloba. 'Squill like slugs.'

Luzula grimaced. It was getting harder and harder to find suitable food for Squill; but at least there were no mice in her mother's pantry anymore. 'Come on, Squill. We're looking for polypody. It's a bright green fern, with long jagged leaves.' Luzula needed the wild fern for a potion she was working on.

'What jagge-did mean?' Squill asked as he turned and scurried along the woodland path.

'Jagged?' replied Luzula. 'It means like this.' As Squill turned to look back, Luzula drew a zigzag shape in the air with her forefinger; then Squill spread his wings and flew off again, with his keen eyes searching the woodland floor.

'Don't go too far!' cried Luzula anxiously, as she hurried after him.

***

At first the unicorn was frightened, but then he became very angry, and he thrashed about from side to side, kicking at the walls of the pit with his cloven hooves and rearing up onto his hind legs.

Earlier he had been licking the early morning dew from the blades of grass in a woodland glade, just as all unicorns do. Dew is just moisture from the air that condenses on the grass as the air cools overnight, and is a source of liquid refreshment for many creatures. However, to unicorns the dew is most important, as it is this that gives them their height and pony-like features, and their distinctive spiralling horn, and without the dew they would revert back to their ancestry and become goats once more.

The Unicorn's name was Aruncus and he had strayed far to the west of his usual grazing lands; but the woodland he had found himself in was pleasant enough and the dew in the glades was the best he had ever tasted. Though he had stayed there too long for his own good; for he had fallen into an animal trap: a deep pit dug by men and covered with branches of wood and disguised with fresh-cut turf. And though Aruncus had the sense to stay quiet and not draw the attention of whoever had made this ghastly trap, he clawed and kicked at its walls and vowed vengeance on the men responsible.

Soon Aruncus grew tired and, with his chest heaving and his white coat covered with mud and leaves, he collapsed to the floor of the pit and lay there panting.

'What you are doing down there?' said a strange, child-like voice. 'You fall in hole?'

Startled, Aruncus looked up to the gap in the branches and turf that he had fallen through and saw a strange sight: a lizard-like creature with sharp teeth and claws was perched on the edge of the hole and looking down at him.

'What is it to you?' replied Aruncus angrily. He was in no mood for a gloating lizard, or whatever it was. He got back up onto all fours and peered up at the strange creature. 'Why don't you help me get out of here instead of asking stupid questions?'

'What stupi-did mean?' asked the creature.

'It obviously means what you are!' replied the unicorn.

'I not a stupi-did,' said the creature.

'Well what are you then?' asked the unicorn. 'Do you have a name?'

'My name Squill,' replied the creature, 'and I a biloba.'

'A biloba?' said the unicorn. 'Never heard of one.' Aruncus settled back down on the floor of the pit again before looking back up at Squill. 'And stupid isn't a creature, it means not very clever.'

'Squill very clever,' said Squill. 'Zoola say.'

'Zoola?' said the unicorn. 'Who or what is a zoola?'

'Zoola friend,' replied Squill. 'Zoola my friend.'

'And is she a stupid biloba, too?' asked Aruncus.

'No, she not stupi-did. She very clever,' replied Squill. 'Not like you.'

'What do you mean?' asked Aruncus as he got back onto all fours. He was tiring of the conversation and beginning to get angry again.

'You fall in hole. That very stupi-did.' And with that, Squill turned and scurried away, dislodging a square of turf.

'No! Wait!' Aruncus stepped back as the turf fell and then, as anger overtook him again, he reared up onto his hind legs once more and tried to kick at the remaining turf and branches. But they were just out of his reach and soon he grew tired again and settled back on the floor of the pit, wishing he had not lost his temper with the biloba creature, and wondering how long it would be before men came to kill or capture him.

***

'Perhaps another day, Squill,' said Luzula. While anxiously looking for her pet, she had already walked further than she had planned, eventually finding him at the edge of a woodland glade.

'But Zoola must come!' exclaimed Squill. 'See not-very-clever stupi-did with jagge-did sticking out of head. It fall in big hole!' He turned and hurried away across the glade and, reluctantly, Luzula followed him, soon reaching the place where, obviously, some kind of animal trap had been dug.

'Be careful, Squill. Don't go too close to the edge.' As Luzula cautiously stepped to the edge of the pit and looked down into it, she was surprised to find a unicorn gazing up at her.

'See,' said Squill. 'Stupi-did fall in hole.'

'He's a unicorn,' Luzula explained, 'and he's fallen into an animal trap.'

Aruncus's anger had turned back to fear, especially with the arrival Luzula, for though he knew she was just a child, he also knew that wherever there were children, there were men.

'Don't be afraid,' said Luzula. 'We mean you no harm. What is your name?'

'Aruncus,' replied the unicorn, feeling more hopeful. 'Can you help me to get out of here?'

Luzula examined the animal trap. It was deeply dug, and from the remaining branches and turf, she could see that it had been well constructed and cunningly disguised. Nearby, a mound of earth from the pit was disguised with more leafy branches of wood. 'Keep out of the way, Squill,' she said, then cautiously she began to remove some of the turf and one of the smaller branches.

'Get away from there!' shouted a male voice, and Luzula and Squill looked up to see two men emerging from the woods and running towards them.

'They come help?' asked Squill.

'No, I don't think so,' Luzula answered. The nearest of the men was carrying a longbow and had a quiver full of arrows attached to his belt, and as the man reached for one of the arrows, Luzula stepped in front of Squill, protectively.

'What have you got there?' the man asked as he fitted the arrow to the string of the bow and came closer.

'He's my pet,' replied Luzula, looking from one to the other of the two men and recognising neither of them. Though as the second one approached, she could see that he was just a boy, though a very tall one.

'Doesn’t look like a pet, to me,' said the man. 'Looks more like it would make a very tasty meal.'

'Hide, Squill!' said Luzula. 'Hide now!' Biloba's have the ability to change their colour to match their surroundings, and Luzula was hoping that Squill would have the sense to do that right now. As the man walked around her, taking aim with his bow, Squill turned and ran towards the mound of earth; but before he had gone more than a few paces, he vanished.

'Where did it go?' said the man, incredulously.

The boy began to laugh. 'It disappeared!' he exclaimed. 'It just disappeared!'

'You be quiet!' The man glared at the boy and then turned back to face Luzula. 'How did it do that? You're not a witch, are you?'

'Yes,' Luzula replied, with complete honesty. She was not in the habit of broadcasting the fact, but she hoped that it might frighten the two intruders away. Though it was soon obvious that the man didn't believe her.

'If you know what's good for you, you'll get off home,' he said as he walked over to the animal trap and looked into it. 'Well, look what we've got in our trap: a unicorn! Now he'll make a few tasty meals.' The man had put his arrow back into the quiver, but he reached for another one while, in the pit, Aruncus became frantic with fear and reared and kicked at the air with his forelegs.

'Are you still here?' With the arrow fitted to the bowstring, the man had turned back towards Luzula who, oddly, had reached into her satchel and taken out a book. 'I told you to go home,' said the man, threateningly. But just at that moment, what the man at first thought must be a large bird, came swooping down from the sky and snapped at his left ear.

'What was that?' he exclaimed, now pointing his arrow towards the sky; but whatever it was had vanished.

'It was that creature!' replied the boy, laughing again. Squill had turned sky-blue as soon as he had taken to the air, and the boy had caught a glimpse of him as he collided with the man's head.

'This is your doing!' the man accused Luzula as he strode towards her. While Luzula, looking up from a page of the spell-book she had taken from her satchel, stood her ground and spoke a few words in a language that the man did not understand. Which had the strangest effect on him, for he dropped his bow and arrow and fell to his knees and then flat onto his belly at Luzula's feet.

'Your wish is my command, your majesty,' said the man.

'Stay where you are and be quiet,' ordered Luzula in a regal manner. She walked around the man; first to the edge of the pit where she spoke reassuringly to the unicorn until he became calm, and then towards the boy, who was dumbstruck. Not because of any magic spell, but because he had never seen the man so humbled. 'What is your name?' Luzula asked the boy as she looked up into his eyes.

'Dryas, miss. I mean, your majesty,' replied the boy, hesitantly finding his voice.

'Is he your kin?' Luzula asked, gesturing to the prostrate man.

'Him, miss? Your majesty, I mean. No, he's not my kin. At least, I think he's not. I've been with him a long time; but if I try to run away, he beats me.'

'I see,' said Luzula, feeling sorry for the boy. 'If I help you to run away, will you do something for me first?'

'Yes, your majesty,' Dryas replied.

'Good,' said Luzula. 'Then you can do two things for me: you can stop calling me your majesty and you can go and find me a spade, like the one used to dig this animal trap.'

'That's easy,' said the boy and, with a big smile on his face, he ran off to fetch a spade.

Luzula called to Squill and, with a magic all of his own, he reappeared in the sky above her and glided gently down and landed beside the pit. 'What's a unica-norn?' he asked as he looked down at Aruncus who, affected by Luzula's calming words, had fallen asleep.

'A unicorn is just a goat,' replied the young witch, 'but an enchanted one.' Then after a moment's thought she began to recite a poem.

A baby goat was heard to say
"I'd like to be a horse one day"
Said a rabbit who was hopping by
"Ah yes, my dear, and pigs might fly"

A billy goat was heard to wish
For a sword that he could thrust and swish
Said an eagle flying overhead
"You must make do with horns, instead"

A nanny goat was heard to say
"I wish I were as beautiful as the day"
Said a donkey who was standing near
"But your wish will not come true, I fear"

But a wizard who had heard each wish
Just waved his wand and then said this
"I'll grant your wishes, but if I do
You must forever drink the morning dew"

Soon Dryas returned with a spade and Luzula told him he could go, but he decided to stay and see what would happen next.

‘Get up!' Luzula addressed the man with her queen-like voice. 'And tell me your name!'

'Dictamnus, your majesty,' said the man as he got to his feet. 'Your wish is my command, your majesty.'

'I want you to start digging, Dictamnus,' said Luzula, pointing to the end of the animal trap and out in a straight line. 'I want you to dig a ditch wide enough for the unicorn to make his way out of your pit, and when he is free, I want you to fill it in. Do you understand?'

'Yes, your majesty,' replied Dictamnus as he took the spade and began to dig, with Dryas watching and grinning from ear to ear. It took the man until the sun was at its highest to finish digging a ditch that sloped steadily down into the pit so that the unicorn could make his way out. Then it took him the rest of the day, and until well after dark, to fill in both the ditch and the animal trap. Though long before then Luzula, Squill and Dryas had gone - as had Aruncus the unicorn.

Dictamnus stood in the light of Astrantia's pale pink moon and scratched his head. He had blisters on his hands and a vague memory of meeting a beautiful young queen, and of being ordered to give up trapping and hunting and to become a farmer. Which is exactly what he did.

***

So what do you have for breakfast? Not slugs, I hope.

The Cerberus

Ever heard of a cerberus? A nasty creature a cerberus; though it's nothing more than a dog really; a hound with four legs and a tail, just like any other hound - except for its three heads of course. Oh yes, they have three nasty snarling heads, three pairs of ears to hear you coming, three noses to sniff you out, three pairs of eyes to see you with, and three sets of very sharp teeth that could bite off your head and each of your arms in one go. Not the sort of animal you would want to meet on a dark night, or even on a sunny day come to that. But don't worry; there are very few of them around, even in Astrantia.

***

The boy was used to living wild, sleeping under the stars, foraging for food, even hunting and trapping. He was tall for his age, though he didn't know it, as he had little or no idea of how old he was, having been stolen away from his family at an early age by a baboon who had lost her baby. Eventually the boy had been found by Dictamnus, a trapper and hunter, who had named him Dryas and taken him as his own but treated him cruelly, making him fetch and carry and beating him if he tried to run away.

But eventually Dryas was able to run away and to be free of the hunter and his cruelty; free to live his own life, and to make his own decisions. For a little while he worked for a farmer, helping to plant seeds in the fields and to scare away the crows and even to milk the cows, and in return he had been given food and a place to sleep at night. Though soon he had become bored and returned to his old ways: sleeping in the woods, fishing in the rivers and the streams, stealing the eggs from the nests of wild geese, and setting snares for rabbits. The snares were made of strong twine attached to a wooden stake that was hammered firmly into the ground, the twine forming a circular loop that would tighten around a rabbit's neck if one happened to run into it. Though one day Dryas snared something a bit bigger than a rabbit; something he had not bargained for: a porcupine.

The porcupine's name was Echinops and he was getting old and rather deaf; too deaf to hear the warnings of the magpie that had flown overhead and squawked, 'Don't go into the woods today. There's danger!' So poor old Echinops had entered the woods, stepped straight into one of the snares and immediately become entangled; and no matter how hard he tried, he could not free himself. Fortunately his friend Callistephus happened by.

'Hello, Echinops,' said Callistephus, in a loud voice. He knew that Echinops was a little deaf, and that he could be a prickly character at times, which was why Callistephus always tried to approach him from the front so as not to startle him. Which was the right thing to do because, like all porcupines, Echinops had an armoury of very sharp spines that he might fire at anyone who caught him unawares.

'Oh thank goodness it's you!' exclaimed Echinops as he recognised the golden-haired boy. 'I seem to have got my leg caught in something and I can't get free.'

Callistephus knelt down to take a look. 'It's a snare,' he said.

'A bear?' replied Echinops. 'Surely there are no bears around here.'

'Not a bear!' said Callistephus, in a louder voice. 'A snare! A trap to catch wild animals. I wonder who could have set it.'

'A trap!' Echinops began to panic and started to struggle to be free again, pulling on the snare and making it even tighter.

'Keep still, Echinops,' said Callistephus as he tried to help. 'I can't free you if you keep struggling.' The snare had pulled very tight and Callistephus was not sure how to loosen it.

'Get away from there!' said an unfriendly voice that neither Callistephus nor Echinops recognised.

Callistephus looked up to see a tall, skinny boy with long dark hair. 'It's alright,' he said to the stranger. 'My friend's caught in trap and I'm trying to set him free.'

The boy, of course, was Dryas. 'Just leave it,' he said. 'I decide what gets freed from my snares, not you.'

Callistephus stood up and faced Dryas. The two boys were of a similar age and both were sun-tanned from time spent out of doors, but Dryas, though leaner, was at least a head taller and he looked menacingly at Callistephus. 'Very well,' said Callistephus, speaking loudly and starting to walk away. 'You decide, then. Goodbye, Echinops.'

'Where are you going?' Echinops was not at all happy with this turn of events and not happy with this tall stranger. So he did what came natural: he released some of his deadly spines, aiming them straight at Dryas.

'Ouch! Ow!' Dryas backed away as the spines came at him, but he tripped on a tree root and fell over backwards, and soon he was covered in spines, mostly in his clothing, but two had stuck in his arm as he lifted his hands to protect his face and three more had become embedded in his bare feet. 'Ow! Tell it to stop!' he shouted.

'That's enough, Echinops,' said Callistephus as he returned. He looked at Dryas. 'If you want your snare back you better help me to free my friend.'

Dryas pulled the spines first from his arm and then from the soles of his feet, gritting his teeth as he did so. 'You have strange friends,' he said angrily as he removed the rest of the spines from his clothes. He got to his feet and stood with his weight first on one sore foot and then on the other, glaring at Callistephus.

Callistephus glanced at the sky and then, deciding that the boy was perhaps not as tough as he looked, he walked up to him and faced him squarely. 'Are you going to help me or not?' he said. 'If not, I have other friends in these woods.'

'What friends?' said Dryas.

'Well,' replied Callistephus, 'there's Phalaris.' He looked up into the sky above the treetops to where a huge eagle was circling, and as he waved to the eagle it tilted its wings as though waving back. 'Well?' said Callistephus. 'Shall I ask Phalaris to come and help?'

Dryas looked up at the huge bird and then at Callistephus. 'That eagle's not your friend,' he said, stubbornly. But as Callistephus raised his hand as if to beckon the eagle, Dryas had a sudden change of heart. 'Very well,' he said as he cautiously approached Echinops and knelt down beside him. 'But your prickly friend better not fire at me again, or I'll skin him and eat him for breakfast.'

'Eaten my breakfast?' said Echinops. 'Of course I haven't eaten my breakfast; I've been caught in this trap since dawn.'

'I think your friend must be deaf,' said Dryas with a smirk. 'Tell him to keep still and not to struggle.'

With a little encouragement from Callistephus, Echinops allowed Dryas to loosen the snare's grip on his leg, but as soon as he was free he sped off into the undergrowth and was gone. The two boys stood up and looked at each other. 'What's you name?' Callistephus asked.

'What's yours?' replied Dryas.

'Callistephus,' said Callistephus, 'but I asked first.'

'I'm Dryas,' said Dryas, looking up into the sky. The eagle was much higher now. 'Is that eagle really your friend?'

'More a friend of a friend really,' Callistephus replied. 'But he helped me once, a long time ago.' The two boys continued to watch the sky, catching glimpses of the eagle through the gaps in the treetops as he soared higher and higher and disappeared.

Dryas suddenly wished that he had a friend, but then he remembered the young witch who had helped him escape from Dictamnus, the hunter. 'I have a friend,' he said, 'and my friend's a witch.'

'Really?' said Callistephus, though he was only half listening to Dryas. The woods had become very still and strangely quiet, because the birds had stopped singing. 'What's your friend's name?' he asked. But before Dryas could reply the silence was shattered by a terrible noise that came from somewhere deeper in the woods: it was the howl of a beast, in fact it sounded like several beasts. Callistephus and Dryas stared at each other, wondering what they could be. Both boys had encountered many wild animals over the years but neither could immediately identify the beasts that made this noise.

'Could be wolves,' suggested Dryas.

'No, not wolves.' Callistephus shook his head. He knew too well what a wolf howl was like. There was silence for a moment, and then another howl, immediately followed by another, and another. 'Perhaps it's just one animal,' he said.

'My trap!' exclaimed Dryas as he realised what direction the howls were coming from. 'Something has been eating the rabbits that I catch in my snares… so I set a trap to catch it.' And with that he raced off towards where he had set the trap, with Callistephus following on behind and thinking that the morning was turning out to be really quite exciting.

***

Dryas, being taller, ran faster than Callistephus. While Callistephus, guided by the howls of the wild animal, soon took a different route over some higher ground and down a steep slope, for he had lived in the area all his life and knew the woods better than anyone. So both boys arrived at exactly the same time, and though one came from the north and the other from the east, both came face to face with a terrible beast.

Yes, it was a cerberus, and his name was Sibirica, and his left hind leg was caught in the trap that Dryas had set just the day before. The trap had once belonged to the trapper that Dryas had lived with. It was a clever, if cruel, device with iron jaws that would snap shut on any unsuspecting foot or paw that stepped on it, and it was firmly attached by a few links of chain to a long wooden stake that Dryas had hammered firmly into the ground. And though it was old and rusty, the trap had worked well, for Dryas had disguised it with twigs and leaves, having placed it on a track that he had correctly guessed was being used by his quarry.

At first, as Sibirica the cerberus heard the sounds, and caught the cents, of the two boys approaching, he stopped howling and froze in terror; for though he was a fearsome and almost fearless beast, afraid of no other animal in Astrantia, he had learned to be afraid of men. Because although he loved to catch and eat their children, it was men who had hunted him, and fought him, with spears and blades of iron, and worst of all with fire.

So, as the two boys stopped in their tracks at the edge of the small clearing where the animal trap had been carefully set, one of Sibirica's scarred and snarling heads faced Dryas and another faced Callistephus, while his third head gnawed at the terrible man-thing that was gripping his leg so painfully.

Dryas began to laugh. 'Look what I've caught!' he said. 'A hound with two heads!' Because from where he was standing he could not see the hound's third head. As Dryas spoke, the head that was facing him snarled and barked at him, while the middle head did the same at Callistephus and the third head gnawed at the wooden stake that secured the trap to the ground.

Now Callistephus could see the third head, though at first he did not understand, thinking that the animal was chewing at his own tail. But as he realised that the hound had scratched at the earth around the wooden stake to which the trap was fastened and was gnawing his way through it, he called out to Dryas. 'Run!' he shouted. 'Run! He's almost free!'

Unfortunately, Dryas took no notice. He had every faith in the trap he had set and picked up a stick and, holding it like a spear, he taunted the cerberus, making him even more angry. 'Whoever heard of a two-headed dog?' he shouted. Sibirica growled at Dryas and, now with two heads, he barked and snapped at him. This delighted Dryas, who was at times a cruel boy, having known nothing but cruelty for most of his young life, but as he danced carelessly around the beast, taunting him again with the stick, he came to where he could see the third head, and finally realised the danger. But too late, for it was then that Sibirica's third head swung round to join his other two and, with all three jaws open wide, he leapt forward with such a force that he snapped what was left of the wooden stake and, trailing the iron trap, he pounced on Dryas and pinned him the ground.

'You dare to challenge us?' snarled the middle head of the cerberus as its spittle dribbled into the boy's face. 'You dare to leave your man-thing,' snarled another head. 'To trap and hurt us, Sibirica, the cerberus?' snarled the third head. 'Now it is your turn to be hurt, for we are going to eat your hands and then your arms and then your feet and then your legs, and then one of us will bite off your head and spit out the bone.'

'Leave him!' Callistephus shouted, as though ordering a domestic dog to behave. He had climbed up the nearest tree and was looking down at the cerberus and poor Dryas trapped beneath his great paws.

Two of the heads looked up at Callistephus. 'You will be next,' snarled the middle head. 'We saw you climb that tree, but you can't stay up there for ever.'

'That's true,' Callistephus agreed. 'But if you eat us, then who will remove the trap from your leg?'

One of Sibirica's heads – the one that had chewed through the wooden stake - turned to look at the dreadful man-thing that still clung to his left hind leg. It was biting so hard that the leg was bleeding. The cerberus tried to shake it free but that just made it grip tighter and the pain more difficult to bare. 'Very well,' said the middle head. 'You can go free if you come down from the tree and remove this thing from our leg. There is more than enough meat on this boy to fill us.' All three of Sibirica's heads turned their attention back to Dryas who could hardly breathe with Sibirica's great weight on top of him.

'But only my friend can remove the trap,' replied Callistephus. 'I know nothing of such things, so you must let my friend go, so that he can help you.

Each of Sibirica's heads snarled, not liking this suggestion at all; but man-thing was hurting his leg, and his paw was becoming numb from the pain. 'Do it,' said the head that had chewed through the wooden stake as the hound moved sideways releasing Dryas. 'Do it and be gone before I change my mind.'

Dryas got shakily to his feet, amazed to be still alive. His first instinct was to run but he knew that if he tried to escape the three-headed hound would be on him again. So he knelt beside Sibirica and took hold of the trap with both hands. 'When I open it,' he said, 'you must remove your leg quickly before it springs back again.' Then carefully and with all the strength he could muster, he prised open the trap and held it open long enough for Sibirica to withdraw his bleeding leg. Dryas let go of the trap and it sprang closed again, and then as one of Sibirica's heads turned to lick the wounded leg, Dryas slowly began to move away.

'Not so fast,' growled Sibirica's middle head. 'I never agreed to let you go.' The cerberus sprang at Dryas and pinned him to the earth again with two huge paws.

'But you promised to let him go!' exclaimed Callistephus.

'Not I,' said the middle head. If a hound could laugh, then each of Sibirica's heads would have done so, but instead they looked threateningly at Callistephus and then wetted their appetite by licking Dryas's face with their long wet tongues.

'But if you hurt my friend,' Callistephus threatened, 'then I will hurt you,' and not waiting for a reply, he climbed a little higher into the tree to where a bees' nest hung from a branch and, ignoring the bees that buzzed in and out of it, he snatched it from the branch and hurled it at the cerberus. The bees' nest flew through the air and landed squarely on Sibirica's back, splitting open and spilling out bees and sticky honey.

The bees, of course, believing themselves to be under attack from some creature intent on stealing their honey, immediately became very angry and looked for something to sting; and the nearest target for their anger was Sibirica, whose three heads, with gaping jaws, had turned to look over his shoulders. And as the bees flew into his three mouths and into his three pairs of ears and clustered around his three soft wet noses, stinging him severely, he howled and leapt into the air and then, violently shaking his three heads, he ran off into the woods still howling as he went.

Most of the bees followed after the cerberus but some stayed with the nest that had fallen to the ground, and some, of course, went after Dryas. 'Run!' Callistephus shouted as he slid down from the tree. 'Run, this way!' So Dryas scrambled to his feet and, with his arms flailing about his head as the bees tried to sting him, he ran after Callistephus.

***

The two boys sat beside the river, drying out after their swim. Callistephus had led Dryas there and, still chased by a handful of bees, they had dived under the water until the bees had lost interest and buzzed away. 'What did that beast say he was?' Dryas asked.

'A cerberus,' replied Callistephus. 'I remember my father telling me a story about a cerberus, and I remember a song he used to sing to me at bedtime.' Callistephus thought for a moment and then began to sing the song.

Don't frighten the children lying in their beds
With tales of a hound that has three heads
A cerberus that prowls on silent paws
Then pounces and bites with three sets of jaws

Don't frighten the children to send them to sleep
Don't frighten the children, for if they should weep
The cerberus may come, and as everyone knows
He'll bite off their fingers, and bite off their toes

'My father used to sneak his hands under the bedclothes and then grab my toes as he sang the last line,' said Callistephus with a smile; he had not thought of his father for a long time.

Dryas was still thinking of their encounter with the cerberus. 'You saved my life today,' he said. 'And you called me your friend… Can I always be your friend?'

'Of course,' said Callistephus. 'I'm always glad to have one more.'

The Dragon Awakes

The dragon had slept for three hundred years, thrice cursed by three sisters, three witches, who had raised her and loved her and named her Firethorn. As their tiny pet, the dragon had brought them joy, and each sister had taken turns at holding her and stroking her and feeding her, and even as she had grown and begun to breath fire, the sisters had still loved her and would hear nothing said against her, despite the occasional mishap with singed curtains or tablecloths.

But as with most dragons, Firethorn was a cruel and selfish creature, and one day, when the girls father, the great warlock, Delavayi, caught the dragon cruelly attacking Verbena, his old and faithful cat, he had ordered the dragon out of his cottage and told her never to return. Of course, the three young witches were most upset, but they had no choice but to abide by their father's wishes, and so Firethorn was sent away.

For a time the dragon stayed away. Though, in her mind, the injustice of being made to leave the only home she had ever known grew, and with it grew her anger, and eventually she returned and set fire to the warlock's cottage, and although the warlock managed to get his wife and three daughters out safely, when he returned to save his cat, the thatched roof collapsed and he was burned alive.

And thus Firethorn was punished, for though the sisters could not bring themselves to condemn her to death, they each in turn cursed her to sleep for one hundred years. And sleep she did, though when she woke she felt she had slept for a thousand years, as her bones were stiff and cold, and the fire in her belly was nothing more than a smouldering ember. But gradually, by eating the insects that crawled in the bat droppings in the cave where she had slept, and eventually eating the bats themselves, she revived and made her way out into a world that was in many ways the same but also changed, as there were more villages, more dwellings, and more people upon whom she could take her revenge.

So one night, shunning the daylight after spending so long in the dark, she took to the air again seeking vengeance on any creature that walked on two legs; especially witches.

***

It was summertime and the nights were warm, and after Hesperis, Astrantia's pale pink moon, had risen into the sky, nocturnal creatures began to go about their business; including the three garden gnomes who had sat all day beside the tiny ornamental pond in the garden outside the cottage where the young witch, Luzula, lived with her mother.

'You've seen what?' said Gromwell, as he slid off his toadstool and set down his lantern. Like his three companions, he had a long white beard and was dressed in a bright red suit and hat and shiny black boots.

'I saw a dragon,' replied Sedum. He lay down his fishing rod and got to his feet and walked over towards the other two gnomes. 'I saw it in the pond.'

Willowherb got up from the rock he'd been sitting on and adjusted the pickaxe he carried in his belt. 'In the pond!' he exclaimed 'How could there be a dragon in the pond? You must have been dreaming. There's no such thing as dragons anyway; I've told you that before.'

'It wasn't in the pond,' said Sedum. 'I saw its reflection as it flew overhead, and I think I saw flames come from its mouth.'

'Balderdash!' said Willowherb. 'How would you know what a dragon looks like anyway?'

I've heard the children talk of dragons.' Sedum replied. 'And I've heard that rhyme the older ones sing to frighten the little ones.' He though for a moment and then began to sing:

For now, she sleeps, we know not where
But one day soon she'll leave her lair
Like a great winged serpent in the sky
Once more, the dragon, she will fly

'That's just a song,' said Willowherb, interrupting. 'A good song, but it's all just myth and legend.'

'But what about those fires in the next village we heard about?' Gromwell asked. 'And that house-fire near here the other night? I've heard people saying they don’t know what's causing the fires. Perhaps there is a dragon abroad.'

'That's right,' agreed Sedum, 'and that fire the other night was at the old witch's cottage - Asperula's cottage - and they say that dragons hate witches.'

'That was probably just one of the witch's spells going wrong,' said Willowherb. 'Her cauldron catching fire, or something.'

'How do you know it was Asperula's cottage,' Gromwell asked Sedum.

'Luzula told me,' replied Sedum. Since Luzula had discovered that she too was a witch, she had also discovered the gnomes' secret - that at night they could walk and talk just like real people - and sometimes she would stay out after dark to talk to them; especially Sedum, or Fisherman as she called him.

Something caught Gromwell's eye, and as he looked up at the sky his jaw dropped and his mouth opened wide. 'Look!' he exclaimed. Sedum and Willowherb turned to look as, in the moonlight, something flew over the village a little to the south. It was long and thin, rather like a snake but thicker in the middle, and as it hovered on huge wings, a long yellow flame spurted from its mouth, and then it dipped out of sight.

'I would never have believed it; there really is a dragon!' Willowherb admitted. 'And up to no good by the look of it.'

'Perhaps we should go and investigate,' suggested Sedum.

'Investigate!' exclaimed Willowherb. 'We three gnomes? The dragon could burn down half the village before we could do anything about it.'

'Willowherb's right,' said Gromwell. 'What we should do is raise the alarm.'

'But how?' Sedum asked. 'Who can we tell?'

'I can tell Zoola,' said a voice.

'Who said that?' said Willowherb, looking around but seeing no one.

'It was me, Squill.' The three gnomes looked up, surprised to see Luzula's pet biloba sitting on the roof of the cottage. Though they were used to seeing him following Luzula around, and knew that he could fly, they had not realised that he was allowed out at night and had been sitting there on the roof listening to their conversation.

'Have you been spying on us?' asked Willowherb indignantly.

The lizard-like creature spread his wings and glided gently down to land beside the three gnomes. 'Spying?' he said, not fully understanding the word. 'You mean like, I spy with my little eye?'

'Never mind that now,' said Gromwell, glad to have an offer of help. 'I think you should fetch Luzula at once. I'm sure she'll know what to do.'

'Fetch Zoola at once,' repeated Squill as he turned and scurried away to the rear of the cottage where he hopped up onto a windowsill and in through the open window.

'I'm not sure I trust that biloba creature,' said Willowherb. 'He seems to grow bigger every day. He's even taller than us now, and three times as long. And he's not that different from a dragon, what with his wings and his long tail.'

'I thought you didn't believe in dragons,' said Sedum. 'Anyway, the dragon we saw in the sky was a different shape, longer and thinner, and shinier too. Did you see how its scales reflected the moonlight?' He and the other two gnomes looked up into the sky again, hoping to catch another glimpse of the dragon, but there was no sign of it.

'Look,' said Gromwell, 'here comes Luzula.'

Luzula had fallen asleep and was having a strange dream about three witches living together in a castle when she was awakened by Squill coming in through the window and leaping onto her bed. At first she had been a little annoyed at having been woken, but as soon as Squill mentioned a dragon she had got dressed immediately and hurried into the garden.

'Hello, Luzula,' said Sedum excitedly. 'We've seen a dragon! It was in the sky, and a big flame spurted from its mouth!'

'Where did you see it?' Luzula asked, not doubting Sedum's words for a moment. Only the day before, she had been to help Asperula repair the damage to her cottage, and the old witch had spoken of her fears that a dragon might be to blame for the fire.

'That way,' said Gromwell as he and his two companions pointed to the south. 'Close to where your friend Asperula lives, I think. I hope its not going to start another fire.'

Luzula looked towards the south of the village. She could see nothing but the stars in the night's sky, but her intuition told her to expect the worst. 'Poor Asperula,' she said. 'I better get some help.' She turned away, meaning to go back inside and wake her mother but then thought better of it and decided to fetch some men from the village instead.

'Can we help?' Sedum asked, as Luzula made towards the garden gate.

Luzula turned and smiled at the little gnome. 'I don't think so, Fisherman. If there is another fire, I'll need someone big and strong to help put it out.' But then, with a look of inspiration on her face, Luzula reached into the leather satchel she always carried and took out what looked like a large pebble, except that it was jet-black in colour and almost perfectly spherical.

This was Luzula's talisman and, kneeling down, she held it out towards the three gnomes and asked them to come and place their tiny hands on top of it. And then, as Luzula closed her eyes and recited magic words that the gnomes did not understand, the most amazing thing happened: Gromwell, Sedum and Willowherb began to grow bigger and bigger, until they were even taller than Luzula. The three gnomes just stood and stared Luzula and at their surroundings, at first wondering why she and everything around them had shrunk.

'They got bigger!' exclaimed Squill. 'Very very bigger!'

Luzula had forgotten about her pet biloba. 'You stay here, Squill,' she said, 'and you three come with me.' And with that she ran off into the night with three huge, and somewhat bewildered, garden gnomes plodding along after her in the moonlight.

***

After the fire, two nights before, Asperula was lucky to be alive, for if it had not been for her magic doorknocker waking her by shouting 'Fire! Fire! Fire!' she might have perished, just like a distant ancestor of hers had perished in a fire, many, many years before, if she was to believe the stories her grandmother had told her. Fortunately Asperula had been woken by the doorknocker's shouting and, once alerted, she had been able to beat out the fire with her broomstick and dowse it with water from the garden rainwater butt.

Though now, for the second night in a row, Asperula had not gone to bed. Instead she sat outside her cottage in a rocking chair, waiting and watching, for she believed she knew what had caused the fire. So when Firethorn the dragon came swooping down out of the sky to perch on her garden wall, Asperula was ready for her. 'Go back!' she shouted as she leapt to her feet, brandishing her broomstick. 'Go back to where you came from and trouble me no more, before I turn you into a slug and chop you into pieces!'

Now, Asperula was never the cleverest of witches; sometimes her magic spells worked well and sometimes they didn't, which was probably why she had decided to first try frightening the dragon away. This of course was a mistake.

Firethorn, perched high on the stone wall, folded her wings and looked down at Asperula. 'So you are a witchshshsh,' she said, her words hissing like water spilling onto hot coals. 'I thought as muchshshsh… Once upon a time three witches were my friendssss… three sisters they were, identical tripletsssss, so it was hard to tell which witch was witchshshsh…' She laughed at her own joke, though her laughter sounded like red-hot nails falling into a bucket of cold water.

For a moment Asperula did not know what to say. She stood and stared at the she-dragon, who resembled a rather fat snake but with four short fat legs and a pair of huge bat-like wings. 'So it is you,' said the witch, sounding quite astonished, 'the one they named Firethorn?'

'Yesssss,' replied the dragon, pleased that her name had not been forgotten. 'And you are?'

'I am Asperula,' replied Asperula.

'Asssssperula.' Smoke escaped from Firethorn's nostrils as she repeated the name. 'Well, say goodbye to your home, Asssssperula.' And with that, Firethorn opened her mouth wide and breathed a long spurt of yellow flame that would have burned Asperula severely, had she not turned away and thrown herself to the ground. But the dragon was not aiming for Asperula. She was aiming for the thatched roof of Asperula's cottage, and with two more fiery breaths, the thatch was soon set alight, and Firethorn danced along the wall and flapped her great wings with the joy of it, while Asperula's magic door knocker franticly shouted, 'Fire! Fire! Fire!' once more.

***

'Look!' exclaimed Sedum as he and Luzula, and the other two gnomes, ran past the last few houses in the village and on towards Asperula's Cottage. 'There is a fire!'

'We'll need water,' said Luzula. 'There's a well just ahead. You must take some from there.'

'But there's only one bucket,' said Gromwell, as they reached the well. 'We'll need at least three more.'

'Six would be better,' said Willowherb, 'so we can carry two each.'

Luzula stopped and put her hand on the single bucket that sat at the edge of the well and then, as she recited another magic spell, one bucket became two, and then two became four, and four became eight. 'Multiplication,' she said, 'one of my favourites spells. Now, fill them quickly and follow after me.' Then she ran on towards the burning cottage.

***

There was so much smoke from the burning thatch that the poor magic doorknocker had stopped shouting and was beginning to choke, while Asperula was back on her feet, angry with herself for using threats instead of magic, but even angrier with the dragon for setting fire to her cottage again. So now, she reached for the talisman that she wore on a gold chain around her neck. Like Luzula's it was the shiny black centre of a shooting star and, gripping it tightly, she began to recite what she hoped was a magic spell for turning a dragon into a slug.

'Be ssssssilent!' Firethorn commanded. She knew too well the sound of spells being cast, and she took to the air and circled Asperula, breathing fire and trapping her in a spiral of flames that grew ever closer. Asperula screamed and fell to the ground again, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head.

'Stop that at once!' Luzula shouted. She had stepped through Asperula's garden gate just in time to see the dragon doing her worst.

Firethorn stopped breathing fire and, for a moment, seemed to hang in the air before she turned and flew straight at Luzula. Then, strangely, the dragon stopped short and dropped to the ground and gazed at Luzula as though the sight of a young girl fascinated her. 'Matricaria, isssssss it you?' she asked. 'No, Mirabilisssssss… or isssssss it Incarvillea?'

'I am Luzula,' replied the young witch, her puzzlement at the dragon's strange questions showing in her eyes as they reflected the flames of the burning cottage.

'But you look jusssssst like them,' said Firethorn, leaning closer and scrutinising Luzula's face. Luzula could feel the dragon's hot breath as she spoke again. 'I loved them,' said Firethorn. 'And they pretended to love me…. But they lied, they were wicked, three wicked witchesssssss. I should have ssssscorched them! I should have burned them!' Firethorn's expression had quickly turned to one of anger, but just as quickly it turned to delight. 'Never mind,' she said with a crooked smile, 'I can burn you instead.'

Now Firethorn leaned back and began to take a deep breath - the prelude to another blast of yellow flame - but out of the shadows came a giant garden gnome. It was, of course, Willowherb carrying a bucketful of water, which he tossed into the dragon's face. Firethorn reeled backwards coughing and spluttering, and giving Willowherb time to return to the gate for the other bucket he had brought from the well and to throw that too. 'I would never have believed it,' he said to Luzula. 'A real live dragon.'

But no sooner were the words out of his mouth when an enraged Firethorn turned and lashed out with her tail, knocking both Willowherb and Luzula into a flowerbed. They were not seriously hurt but as they tried to scramble to their feet, again the dragon took a deep breath and, summoning all of the fire that still burned within her, she leaned towards her two victims and… turned into a slug.

Asperula was on her knees and her clothes and hair, and even her eyebrows, were well and truly singed. But in her hand was her talisman, and on her lips were the final words of the magic spell she had cast upon the dragon; thus fulfilling her promise to turn her into a slug. Which was lucky for Squill, because he had been following Luzula and had bravely chosen that exact moment to swoop down from the sky and come to her rescue, and though he was taken aback by the dragon's sudden disappearance, something else soon caught his attention. 'Yum Yum!' he said as he gobbled down the fat juicy slug, 'Squill like slugs!'

***

Well, I'm sure you can guess the rest of this story. With the aid of three giant garden gnomes and several more buckets of water and, of course, a little more magic, the fire was soon put out and Asperula's cottage was restored to its former self.

Are you wondering about the three garden gnomes? Well, they had not had so much excitement since the night they had all fallen down one of the village wells, but they were very glad when the magic wore off and they were back to normal size and seated around their pond again. Though they did have an invitation from a very grateful magic doorknocker to go back and visit as often as they wanted.

***

So tell me; do you believe in dragons?

***

THE END
(For now)

Thank you for reading Astrantian Danger. I hope you enjoyed it. You can read more Astrantian stories at: www.abctales.com/node/557005 (Astrantian Tales comes first, followed by More Tales, Secrets & Dreams)
Art + Stories: http://ianhobson.blogspot.com