Taliesin Defending the Dragons

Late spring in the mountains and the trees and undergrowth were still coming into their green finery down below. But here in the tree line�s edges, there was little flora. Along a path walked a man, dressed comfortably for traveling. His leather boots were both well-worn and well cared for. His shirt and pants may have been a notch above average but they had the look of clothes built for journeying. His pack, a simple affair, rested easily on his back, with a harp of some sort firmly attached.

It was mid-morning and he could see his destination ahead of him, a natural opening in the mountain. Suddenly the path was plunged in darkness as though something had eclipsed the sun. The man kept walking without missing a beat, as though having the sun disappear behind large objects was an every day occurrence. A voice called from behind him, "Taliesin!" and he turned to see a man striding along behind him.

Taliesin opened his mouth and out came a strange combination of deep grumbles and booming roars followed by, "How are you? And your mate?"

The two men embraced and the one replied, "Fine. You're in time to see the hatching." As the two walked up toward the cave they caught up on what had been going on both near and far. When they finally reached the cave they were greeted by a delegation of folks who all clambered for the bard's attention. They walked into the cave and followed a broad sweeping ramp that slowly spiraled down, worn smooth by generations of use. There were many passages branching off from the main one and they entered one of the labyrinthine passages and soon were in a large round room. Somewhere along the walk all of the kids had been taken away and now Taliesin stood alone in front of a large group of men and women.

"My friends, I fear I do not come with good news. You have noticed that a force of men is gathering, and you may have heard rumors that they plan to attack you. The timing of this incident is not chance. They know your young are preparing to hatch and they believe that you will not be able to stop them unless you attack them at full force. They hope you will do just that, leaving your homes unprotected, for they don't believe dragons are intelligent. Then, while you are attacking them they plan on sending a stealth group in to destroy your eggs." The murmurs that had been a gentle background to the bard's comments became loud cries of denunciation.

Taliesin waited until the general anger had abated. "My friends, I wouldn't come here without some plan. The stealth group is about 2 days behind me and don't know I'm here. I know I am asking a great deal but I ask permission to guard your young." Taliesin smiled, "I can promise you that they will be safe." Discussions lasted late into the night and preparations ranged for the next two days. They wanted to make sure the stealth party saw them leave and believed the caves totally unprotected.

The morning of the third day found Taliesin deep in the bowels of the mountain, at the hatching ground. The eggs, large and bejeweled, were spread out on a blanket of pristine white sand, kept warm by the life giving heat of the earth's blood. The man who had originally greeted Taliesin stood next to him. "Are you sure that I cannot stay and help you?"

Taliesin smiled. "No, my friend. You are needed for the other battle." He patted his harp, "I'm sure we can keep the young ones safe."

The other man just shook his head then took Taliesin's hand. "Until after the battle, my friend." Then he turned and was suddenly a full sized dragon, climbing the paths up and out to the staging area. Taliesin sat down and started to play his harp and almost wished he could see the dragons going off to war, for he knew it would be an impressive site.

Twelve men lay on the cold, hard stone of the mountain, just below the opening to the dragons' lair. They waited patiently, as they had waited for several hours. Suddenly, from within the cave, there came a low rumble which quickly grew until the ground shook and it felt as through the mountain might tear itself apart. Then the dragons emerged, springing from the cavern as though riding a column of compressed air, two and three abreast, their wings kicking up dust and stones as they headed off to face the men who threatened them, seemingly oblivious to the threat that lay a short distance from their cave. The rumbling went on for over half an hour until the beating of the last dragon's wings finally faded into the distance. The men waited another hour to be sure and then moved from their concealment and headed up to the cave.

Meanwhile, down in the hatchery, Taliesin continued to play. His low harping seemed to seep into the very foundation of the mountain and then return in echoes. As the first of these echoes reached back to his ear, he started to sing, a wordless song that harmonized with the echoes while his playing picked a counterpoint that caused the sound to lift up, rising on the echoes of its earlier self. And in the eggs, the baby dragons stirred slightly.

"Ok, you all know what we're to do," the leader of the twelve said. "We've got the maps that will lead us directly down to the hatchery. I don't want to waste any time, let's go down, destroy the eggs and get out of here. I don't want to face enraged dragons on their home turf just in case anything goes wrong at the other end of this plan. And Grend?" At the mention of his voice a slightly built but athletic man turned to face the leader. "No stealing an egg. No, don't even try to protest. I don't know how you could manage it but you'd try and we need to make sure they are all destroyed. Now, light your torches and let's go in."

The bard's tune changed once again as the echoes started to ring back from the upper galleries into the hatchery, mingling with the earlier echoes which had seemed to gather strength rather than fading away. Now both the song he was singing and the tune he was playing became more complex and the tempo picked up as the song traced its way back along its own echoes to find new strength.

Grend stopped, his head cocked. "Do you hear that?" he asked the leader. The leader listened, then shook his head. Knowing the thief had better hearing, however, he asked what Grend heard. Grend listened intently for a moment and then said, "If I didn't know better, I'd say someone was singing, softly."

The leader laughed and dismissed Grend's observation. "You're hearing things," he said, and then motioned everyone to move forward; down a side passage that the map said would be the shortest route to the hatchery. Right after they headed down, Grend suddenly started at a noise behind him. He turned, didn't see anything and turned back to find that he was all alone. The other men had disappeared. He stopped, stood still and listened. It was dead quiet. He turned slowly to look behind him and found that the passage he had just walked down was gone, he was facing a blank rock wall. He slowly backed up, walking on the balls of his feet, prepared for anything. Anything except another blank wall 6 foot behind him.

He looked closely at the wall. It appeared old, though he knew it hadn't been there moments ago. He stepped to the middle of his cell and slowly turned around, applying his thief's mind to the problem and trying not to panic. If there was one thing he hated, it was being locked someplace he couldn't get out of. And this was beginning to resemble such a place.

Further down the passage, the man who had been just ahead of Grend turned to kid him and ask if Grend still heard music. Only Grend wasn't there. Instead he saw his oldest friend, dead these ten years, the first person he had murdered. "Hello, friend," the apparition called. The man turned to yell to the rest of the men but found them all gone, replaced with others he had murdered over the years. Some over women, others over money, and some as jobs to rid important people of inconsequential but pesky problems for a fee. He'd never had a qualm over killing but now, faced with those he'd murdered, he found that he wasn't so sure about his past peace.

One by one the men were faced with something that stopped them in their tracks. Down in the hatchery, Taliesin sang on and the young dragons dreamed. In their dreams they soared high in the air, they experienced the heady rush of their first kill, they fought daring duels with other dragons as they learned fighting skills, they fell in love, they experienced joy and bliss.

And Taliesin sang and smiled. For he knew exactly what his song was doing, it was spreading a snare that used the mind. In the case of the baby dragons, whose minds were still innocent, the song reflected joy and bliss and they experienced the good parts of the future. For the men, however, their minds were full of deceit and treachery and they faced their own lives and what they had done. Finally, Taliesin stopped singing and let the sound from his harp die gently away and listened to the echoes slowly seeping into the rocks. Then he headed up to the mouth of the cave, taking note of the men as he passed them, each standing in the middle of a section of the cave, facing down demons that only they could see.

When he reached Grend he had to laugh, for the thief stood in the middle of a wide passageway, pacing off a 12 x 6 cube, feeling invisible walls with his hands and attempting to climb the air. A couple of hours later, the first of the dragons returned, having triumphed over their enemies. Taliesin instructed them to go inside and deal with the intruders. The next day, the rest of the dragons returned and listened in astonishment as they were told of the antics of the men. When Taliesin was asked what happened, he claimed ignorance, stating that he had just been in the hatchery singing and waiting for the need to defend.

Several days later the hatchlings were born and there was much feasting and celebration. Afterwards, Taliesin took his leave to return to his service at court. Funny thing is, this generation of dragons was different. Not in any real noticeable way, but they did seem to be more thoughtful, more willing to compromise and see things beyond their own point of view. And legend says that if you visit the lair and head down into the deepest, remotest parts, you can hear the faint echo of a song.