Jesse James and the Dragon's Egg

An Ugly Black Stain on a Pure White Shore

The next morning, the children were all up early. It was a beautiful day, but a stiff, gusting wind brought with it the threat of heavy overcast and rain. Great, black thunderclouds sat low over the distant ocean.

Brad and John had gone off with some of the other older children. They were determined to prove that there was no way that any game called Rugby, was tougher than football. Jake had gone again to the stables. Imal had taken a liking to the boy and had promised him a day of riding lessons. Jesse, Lamar, and Kate had stayed and offered to help Inarra with the preparations. The wedding ceremony was to be tomorrow. They would spend today in preparation.

"... so before anybody has a chance to stop him, Brad jumps up on the table and starts screaming 'Everybody from Mrs. Garcia's class, look at me!' and all four tables came crashing down. I think there's still paint on the walls in that classroom." Kate and Lamar were folding table clothes in front of a truly mountainous pile of dishes while Jesse was neatly sorting and stacking freshly cleaned glasses. They were doing their best to keep productivity from getting in the way of conversation when they heard a familiar voice in the next room.

"Elyssa." Lamar's face was already reddening even as he tried to stop the name from coming out. Inarra came in with the dark girl right behind her.

"Hey, Elyssa."

"Oh, hi Lamar." The girl replied with a flip of her hair.

"Lamar," Inarra said, "could you help Elyssa with the decorations around the stage?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." He shrugged, giving Elyssa an awkward smile.

"I'll come help..." Jesse volunteered, but stopped mid-sentence. Kate had put her hand on Jesse's arm, gently shaking her head.

The two of them watched Elyssa and Lamar walk out together.

"She likes him." She said, staring after them.

Jesse was trying to figure out how to respond to this when Jag walked in, much to his relief.

"I see Elyssa has taken a liking to your friend. She would be a good match for him. She is bold and determined, with a good and passionate heart."

"I like her." Kate said, waving at Jag.

"Yes, I can see that. The two of you have much in common." He said, placing a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "Kate, would you excuse us just a moment?"

Jag and Jesse walked out into the main room of the marquis. They found seats on one of the big couches next to the great stone fireplace where Al joined them, curling up at Jesse's feet and preening himself. They had gotten comfortable and exchanged some small talk before Jag got to the meat of the matter.

"Jesse, there is something I feel I should discuss with you. It is something that has been weighing on me since our arrival here. I fear I may not have been entirely... My boy, are you alright?"

Jesse had gone ghostly pale. His eyes fixated on the side of the tent facing the ocean. Al was going crazy, leaping from the couch and pacing back and forth, hissing in between fits of whining. Jesse turned to Jag, sheer terror on his face.

"He's here."

A low, mournful, two note call sounded through the camp. Another quickly followed it and in the blink of an eye, Jag was gone. Sprinting out the front of the tent, he stopped only long enough to pick up his sword.

~

At the beach, men and women were milling about, watchful and waiting for instruction. Scouting parties had returned from both directions and no news was the news of the day. Whatever had set off alarms, be it Arthur King or otherwise, was nowhere to be seen now.

Jesse and his friends worked their way through the crowd. Jesse wanted to stay in the tent and Brad was more than happy to leave him there. Kate was not.

"Jesse!" Before the boy knew what was happening, Jag had him by the arm. "You shouldn't be here."

"I'm sorry Jag. I had to see..."

"Jesse, there's something you should know." Jag pulled the boy aside. "Something I should have told you days ago. Your mother..."

"There!" One of the men at the farthest end of the group motioned to a place farther down the beach.

Arthur King had appeared, an ugly black stain on the pure white shore. He was so out of place it appeared as if reality itself was rejecting him. His pace was slow, casual, almost accidental, but it carried the man down the shoreline unnaturally quickly.

"Hello everyone! I do hope you didn't go to all this trouble on my account." He arrived with a smile, his arms open wide in a weird disfiguration of welcome. Every blade, blunt instrument and smoldering thing in the area pointed in his general direction.

"Jagadbandu. You look well, my old friend."

"Arthur." The man barely returned the greeting.

"My old friend, you can tell your friends to put the toothpicks away." He cast a quick eye to a particularly young man at the edge of the crowd. His bowstring had just struck a particular note as he drew it back. "You have no immediate need to fear me."

"Arthur, what do you want here?" It was less a question and more a declaration; you are not wanted here. Leave now.

"Oh, I think you know what I want. And if you don't, the boy surely does. Don't you, Jesse?" He had no idea how Arthur had spotted him so quickly, but the horrifying man was pointing directly at him.

"He is one of us now, Arthur, and he is under our protection."

"One of you?" Arthur laughed. "So, the mighty Yammonites are thieves as well as separatists now? Young Mr. James," he was addressing the crowd now, "has taken something from me. He has taken from me and I would have him return what he stole."

"You'll find no support here, Arthur." Jag spoke over a quiet murmur that was finding it was through his people. "As I said, the boy is one of us and the beast was not yours to claim."

"Details." The man said with a wave of his hand. "Niggling details. The fact is, it is mine. It is mine by right or by law or by blood or by whatever thought mechanics you wish to apply. It is mine and I would have it back."

"Arthur." Jag spoke, and the words fell flat on the ground between them. "There is nothing for you here. What the boy has, the boy can keep."

"I must admit I had hoped your answer might be something a bit more; reasonable. For old time's sake." There was a moment, a very brief moment, when a bitter sadness flashed across the man's features. It was gone in the blink of an eye. "Ah well. Perhaps next time?" And with that, he was gone. A small pillar of sand and dust settling to the ground was the only thing to indicate that a man ever stood there.

The crowd disbanded and people moved in laughing groups back to the encampment. Jag and his brother stood in the spot where Arthur had just disappeared. They watched their people returning to the idea of celebration, and they watched Jesse.

"Khalil, perhaps we should put extra guards on the watch tonight. Just in case."