Summer Road Block

A sleeping drake blocks the Kings Road. Tarn must move it.

The summer sun beat down upon the King's Road, and heat shimmered above the dusty stones. Merchants, travellers, and pilgrims moved in a slow procession between the cities of Garrow and Thornwatch. Wagons creaked beneath heavy loads, horses snorted, and drivers cursed the weather. Tarn sat atop a supply wagon and wiped sweat from his brow. Summer was meant to be pleasant. Instead, it felt as though the gods had lowered the sun to sit directly above his head.

"You look miserable," said the wagon driver.

"I am miserable."

The old driver laughed and flicked the reins. The two horses continued along the road. Tarn wasn't a merchant. He wasn't even a guard. He had accepted a simple job escorting three wagons to Thornwatch. Easy coin, the merchant had said. Easy coin had a habit of becoming difficult coin. The road curved around a wooded hill, and the line of wagons slowed. Then it stopped. Tarn frowned.

"What's happened?"

The driver stood and peered ahead.

"Road block."

Tarn groaned. There were few things worse than a road block on the King's Road. He climbed from the wagon and pushed through the crowd of travellers. A hundred paces ahead, the reason became clear. A massive creature lay across the road. At first Tarn thought it was dead. Then it moved. The beast's tail twitched.

"Wonderful," he muttered.

It was a drake.

Not one of the great dragons of legend, but dangerous enough. Its green scales gleamed beneath the summer sun, and its body stretched from one side of the road to the other. The creature slept peacefully. Everyone else did not. A dozen wagons waited on either side. Merchants argued. Guards shouted. Children cried.

"No one's getting past that thing."

"Why don't we kill it?"

"You go first."

Tarn folded his arms. The drake was young, perhaps twenty feet long. Even so, its claws could tear through armour. A rider approached through the crowd.

"The local lord is sending soldiers," he announced.

"When?"

The rider shrugged.

"Tomorrow."

A chorus of groans followed. Tomorrow might as well have been next year. Tarn glanced at the drake. Then he glanced at the line of wagons. An idea formed. It was not a good idea. Unfortunately, it was the only idea. He approached the merchant who had hired him.

"I'm going to move it."

The merchant blinked.

"Move it?"

"Aye."

"That's a terrible idea."

"I know."

The merchant stared.

"You're still going to do it?"

"Aye."

The merchant sighed.

"Very well. If you survive, I'll pay you extra."

Tarn grinned.

"Now you're speaking my language."

A handful of guards joined him. None seemed particularly enthusiastic. They gathered rope from several wagons and tied the lengths together.

"You honestly think this will work?" asked one guard.

"No."

"That doesn't inspire confidence."

Tarn shrugged. The group approached the sleeping drake. Every step felt louder than the last. The creature continued sleeping. A fly landed upon its snout. Nothing happened. Tarn tied a rope around the beast's hind leg. The guard beside him swallowed.

"We should leave."

"Probably."

The drake snorted. Everyone froze. The beast shifted slightly, then settled again. Tarn exhaled.

"Right. Pull."

The men retreated and grabbed hold of the rope.

"One!"

The rope tightened.

"Two!"

Dust rose from the road.

"Three!"

They pulled with everything they had. The drake moved perhaps an inch. The crowd cheered. Then the drake opened one eye. The cheering stopped.

"Oh no," said Tarn.

The beast rose to its feet, and people scattered in every direction. The drake hissed and spread its wings. A wagon overturned. A horse broke free from its harness and bolted. The road descended into chaos. The drake turned toward Tarn. He immediately regretted every decision that had brought him to this moment.

"Run!" shouted a guard.

Tarn didn't need telling twice. The drake charged. Its claws hammered against the stones. Tarn sprinted down the road. A burst of green flame exploded behind him. Heat washed over his back. Travellers dove into ditches. Wagons crashed into one another. Tarn seized a loose spear from the ground and spun. The drake lunged. He hurled the weapon. The spear struck a scale and bounced away harmlessly.

"That was optimistic."

The drake roared, then something unexpected happened. A wagon full of apples rolled down the slope beside the road. The driver screamed as it gathered speed.

The wagon slammed directly into the drake's side. Apples exploded everywhere. The drake stumbled. The wagon shattered, and the creature blinked in confusion. An apple struck its nose, then another. Soon dozens of apples rolled around its feet. The drake lowered its head, and sniffed. Then it ate one. The road fell silent. The drake ate another. And another. Tarn stared as the beast's tail wagged.

"Is it... enjoying them?"

Nobody answered. The drake continued devouring apples. A merchant stepped forward cautiously. He tossed another. The drake snapped it from the air. A second merchant joined in. Soon half the crowd was throwing apples. The drake seemed delighted. It wandered from the road in pursuit of the growing trail. Step by step, it followed the fruit toward a nearby meadow. The moment it cleared the road, a cheer erupted from the travellers. Tarn collapsed onto a wagon wheel. The merchant approached.

"You moved it."

"Technically."

"That wasn't your plan."

"No."

The merchant laughed.

"Still counts."

The line of wagons began moving once more. Drivers shouted, horses pulled forward, and the King's Road returned to life. Tarn climbed back onto his wagon. The driver glanced at him.

"Well, that was exciting."

Tarn leaned against a crate.

"Next time I take an easy job, remind me not to."

The wagon rolled onward beneath the summer sun, leaving behind one very happy drake and the strangest road block Tarn had ever seen