Dragon's Flight Read online

  The Dragon’s Erf Series:

  Book Three:

  Dragon’s Flight

  SR Langley

  Published by The House of SoRoL

  100 Colne St.

  Castleton

  Rochdale

  OL11 2UG

  ***

  DRAGON’S FLIGHT COPYRIGHT PAGE:

  All characters are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. DRAGON’S FLIGHT, DRAGON’S ERF and all original characters, events and settings © 2021 SR Langley (identified as the author of this work) All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  ***

  Conditions of Sale

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired-out or otherwise re-circulated without the author’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ***

  Sign up for my Newsletter here: [email protected]

  Check out my Website here: https://www.srlangleywriter.com

  (Receive further information about the worlds of Dragon’s Erf… and lots, lots more!)

  The Witch's Brew

  *******************

  Of eagle's beaks and infant's bones,

  Of toads and bloodied stomach stones,

  Of poisoned herb, pernicious powder;

  Spells that speak, tormenting louder;

  Clouds and smokes - amorphic mists;

  Shrieks the skull, the knife that twists.

  Alembics, vials, all liquid tackle;

  The crone a stirring with a cackle;

  All else be gone from shadow vanished;

  The light the leaf - all life be banished;

  The murky sphere of magic's motion,

  Where she plays and pours her potion.

  Then to the dell, a fair maid falters,

  A buxom blonde of Viking daughters;

  A guest, behest, to sup and savour

  Pon yon brew, its fulsome flavour.

  With spidered claw, the witch arises

  And flows the fluid in bowl with glee,

  And smiles as her fair guest surmises -

  "By golly mum you carnt arf make tea!"

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1: ‘HOMES’ ARE WHERE THE HATE IS.

  CHAPTER 2: OF PLOTS AND PANS AND POTS AND PLANS!

  CHAPTER 3: THE GYPSY PEDDLER

  CHAPTER 4: THE GREAT ESCAPE!

  CHAPTER 5: CAT OUT OF THE BAG

  CHAPTER 6: RACE TO THE QUAGGY

  CHAPTER 7: A LIGHTER SHADE OF DARK

  CHAPTER 8: OF DEVILS & DECOYS.

  CHAPTER 9: UNDER THE VOLCANO.

  CHAPTER 10: A WITCH IN TIME …

  CHAPTER 11: TO HELL IN A HANDBAG!

  CHAPTER 12: ACROSS THE WASTELAND.

  CHAPTER 13: THE GREEN WITCH

  CHAPTER 14: THE BATTLE OF THE BLACK HEATH.

  CHAPTER 15: THE OBSERVER TREE

  CHAPTER 16: OF HEALINGS & HEARTBREAKS!

  CHAPTER 17: THE WAR COUNCIL

  EPILOGUE

  BIOGRAPHY:

  Dragon’s Nest: DRAGON’S ERF SERIES BOOK 4

  PROLOGUE

  Several days had passed since Lord Morgrim had successfully returned to the Core Conclave with his brother Morgrave, the king.

  He was now known as Morgrave the Magnificent, due to the successful public relations Campaign that Morgrim had been running throughout the Core and Under Erf realms these last few days. Lord Morgrim was particularly pleased because the king was in fact little more than a fat and slobbering idiot who needed continuous and very tight mental control. The sly and wily Spy Master, Lord Morgrim, had managed this with the help of 13 Black Dragons and a newly-devised prototype mind cap that he'd fitted into the King’s crown.

  Lord Morgrim was now happily and safely ensconced in his inner sanctum deep within the sprawling network of Core Palace Caverns within the impenetrable Core Fortress. He lay gloating in his bubbling lava bath as many personal body slaves busied themselves crawling over his broad and scaled flanks, scrubbing and scraping in all the places that gave him the most pleasure. The slaves were well aware that any cause of displeasure they might give would be immediately dealt with by a quick and brutal blow from the Fire-Worm Lord or a scorching blast of flame burning them to a crisp. They were all very, very attentive.

  He now reminisced on his brilliant handling of the weak and mindless King, his twin brother Morgrave, along with subduing the rest of the Core Lords that comprised the Core Conclave.

  “By the flaming ten heads of the ancient overlord of Hell himself, but that was a close call,” he thought to himself as he idly flicked a minion slave away with a well-aimed talon. "That new-fangled mind cap I was given from my Skiltish laboratory very nearly let me down, but I was able to control Morgrave enough to get him back to the Core Palace before the meeting of the Conclave. But he is so obsessed with ending the line of True Dragons and destroying the last egg of the Sivads, that it took all my own mental powers augmented by 13 Black Dragons and the mind cap prototype in order to successfully pull it off. But now at last I have the new upgraded mind cap just delivered from Professor Mudfinger. Now I will have total control!”

  Lord Morgrim was due to have a “special private audience” with the King himself very shortly, but in these few moments he relished recalling how he had also gotten the rest of the Fire-Worm Lords under his control and how the long planned for genetic manipulation and breeding of the new strain of Black Dragons had been so vital to achieving this. Although smaller, they in fact had greater strength and fire power. Also these Black Dragons had mental Powers and mind manipulation skills that far out-reached any known before in all of dragon kind.

  Morgrim was particularly pleased as to how he had manoeuvred his wily old enemy, Lord Morgaunt, into a trap where through various cleverly edited records of conversations Morgaunt had made over the years he seemingly betrayed himself as a possible traitor to the King and the Kingdom of the Core. Even now he had Morgaunt under house arrest pending further investigation. And of course every move and statement the Lord Morgrim had made had been fully and officially supported by the King himself. And what was the most delicious irony of all was that no one else knew. Absolutely no one else realised that Lord Morgrim was the one and only true power and ruler of the Core and its kingdoms.

  But now the time was nigh for his personal attendance to the King. He flung a few body slave minions away from his glistening torso and grabbed hold of his Adamantium Mace ‒ the symbol of his office as Master Spy and Chief Advisor to the King.

  Two of the Black Dragons were posted on guard outside his inner sanctum chambers for his personal protection. He signalled to them to follow him to the nearby residence of the King where another ten Black Dragons were stationed to ensure King Morgrave was kept safe and secure. The thirteenth Black Dragon was on special assignment keeping guard over Lord Morgaunt, Morgrim's ancient arch enemy, at his private residence.

  Lord Morgrim was in continual and direct telepathic communication with all thirteen of the Black Dragons and they maintained their own telepathic links with each other too. This secret communication web was on a specific frequency that only they could use and so was completely safe from detection and interference from any outside sources.

  King Morgrave lay sleepily coiled i
n his second favourite place in all of the Erf's core, this being his personal sleep and pleasure couch. He trembled and shuddered as now several new jolts of pleasure-pain signals coursed through his gigantic cigar-shaped torso. The newly developed psycho-drugs created by one of Spy Master Lord Morgrim's many Humdrum recruits hidden away in Under Erf laboratories, had been proving very effective.

  It was still only a close second though. His most favourite place of all still remained the Throne Room where every day he seemingly held court, gloating over the ever-increasing stain of red that marked out the full extent of the Empire of the Core. HIS Empire!

  Here was clearly shown in red the core itself and those kingdoms fully under his own domain. Then in orange those realms very close to being so. And finally realms marked as yellow where some inroads had already been made.

  His brother and faithful Spy Master, Morgrim, had kept him briefed and updated daily as the King’s great Master Plan was implemented, step by step and piece by piece. Already half of the Under Erf, besides the Core itself, was coloured a garish red or yellow. King Morgrave felt extremely confident that the entire Under Erf, from the Core to the Skylands would one day be his to rule.

  Lord Morgrim entered and approached the King cautiously. The Ten Black Dragons stood stationed around the chamber. He joined his mind to theirs and found all was in order.

  The King had no idea that everything he was shown was false!

  It was all induced by the combination of Morgrim’s and the Black Dragon's mental manipulation powers through the mind cap hidden in the King’s crown; and all augmented by the covert application of drugs, pain, pleasure and hypnosis.

  King Morgrave was held captive in the perfect prison, one where he was convinced that he alone had all the power needed to rule.

  Lord Morgrim swiftly ejected the old and completed command tape from the King’s crown and deftly put in the new one. He kept this task to himself as there could be no room for error, ever. Especially now. His plans were coming together, starting with a mass attack on the Great Forests of Inglande, beginning with the imminent assault on the inner strong-holds of the Great Forest of Lundun itself.

  Lord Morgrim was now ready for total war, deploying his millions of minion forces as well as many other Core-bred creatures of death and destruction.

  And all supported by the greedy and nearly mindless Humdrums themselves.

  And his control of the political powers and their militia's weapons and armies was crucial to the full realization of his plans.

  Not to mention the many sick and secret uses of the most wicked power upon the Erf's surface ‒ that of the vile and evil Psychonomy!

  CHAPTER 1:

  ‘HOMES’ ARE WHERE THE HATE IS.

  Mary Maddam was bored but also worried. It had been well over a week now that she’d been kept in this “horrible horse-spit-an’-tell” as she called it; although, in truth, it really wasn’t that horrible at all. It was a clean and orderly hospital, and the nurses in fact were all quite nice.

  The Matron though, was something else. Matron McCracken was of the ‘old school’, a real spare the rod and spoil the child sort of tyrant; all strict discipline and total adherence to hospital rules; rules that were always to be immediately obeyed and without any question.

  But it wasn’t the tyrannical Matron or the tedium of the daily routine of the place that was really getting to her. It was the absence of her best friend Roger. As expected, he’d been discharged from the hospital the day after they’d both arrived, and she hadn’t seen hide or hair of him since.

  He had managed to visit her just the once though, the day he’d left, just before being picked up by his angry Father, Councilor Briggs. And in those brief minutes Mary had managed to give Roger the Dragon’s Egg — the extremely precious Egg of the, as-yet unhatched, Dragon Prince, Regor Yram. The Egg they’d just rescued from the Dragon’s Cavern and very nearly died for. Roger had quickly concealed the rock-like Egg within his overnight hospital bag. His bully of a Father had then come storming into the ward, loudly complaining to the agitated nurses.

  “I'm not having my son mix with this sort of riff-raff.” he’d yelled, “that ragamuffin, that ‘Mad’ Maddam girl, is a bad influence on my boy. How dare you let her anywhere near him?”

  The Ward Sister had hurried over and tried to calm him down the best she could, but by then he was in full swing and there was just no stopping him.

  “Get the Matron here at once!” he’d angrily demanded of the Sister. “You know who I am, don’t you? I demand to see the Matron at once, do you hear?” The cowed Sister had then obediently run off to find the Matron.

  However, despite his Father’s grandstanding histrionics and while he’d been distracted with such, Roger had quietly kissed Mary on the cheek, saying not to worry and had quickly told her, “It’s alright, Mary. I’ll look after Regor and I’ll come back and visit you as soon as I can.”

  Mary of course had done her best to ignore the very rude and personal attack on her from Mr. Briggs. Before their wild adventures, into the Bad Wood and the Dragon’s Cave and everything that followed, she would have been a lot more sensitive about it. But she was now made of much sterner stuff, as indeed was the budding young scientist, Roger.

  Just as Roger was leaving the ward, with Regor now safely hidden in his bag, she’d clearly heard the unborn baby Dragon telepathically calling out to her. “Don’t yous wowwy Marewee, it’ll be awwight, pwomise! I’ll look after Wodjer an’ we’ll all be backs toogevva soons, okays?”

  But with baby Regor’s talking ability still not being fully developed it meant that she had to take extra-special care to work out exactly what he was saying. Mary was still getting used to their new telepathic ability, kicking in whenever they were near the baby dragon. But this was just one of the many differences their recent adventures had made.

  Then all mayhem erupted. Matron McCracken had arrived!

  “What is the meaning of this?” she’d bellowed. “This Maddam girl has caused a great deal of trouble and has led this poor boy astray. He is not to be further infected by her low morals and despicable behavior. Do I maker myself clear?”

  Then of course the Ward Sister and the Nurses had been given another severe telling off, and all in front of the patients too. Mary then saw Mr. Briggs speaking to Matron McCracken as he left, dragging Roger with him.

  Mary couldn’t quite hear all they’d said though, just a few words here and there. Matron had said something about “taking the necessary steps” and Mr. Briggs had gruffly replied, “Well, see that you do, Matron. The Special Under Lundun Council is relying on you!”

  She briefly wondered what the S.U.L.C. was. “Never heard of that one before!” she thought. But then her Gran had turned up. Mary could see her looking for her through the ward door windows. Then she chuckled to herself. “That’s a right laugh, me poor ol’ Gran’s lookin’ across the Ward, tryin’ to find her Ward!”

  But then it wasn’t funny anymore. Mary saw that two big orderlies had marched up, along with Matron McCracken, who now seemed to be forcefully steering her Gran away from the ward.

  For a moment Mary couldn’t see what was happening at all, but then a few seconds later she heard a loud scream and her Gran then reappeared at the door and stepped briskly into the ward. She brushed herself down and made her way towards Mary’s bed, holding a bag of grapes and waving at her with a big, beaming smile on her round, red and friendly face.

  “Sorry about that dear,” she said, “seems there was some sort of a mix up as to who I was and whether I was actually allowed to visit. No worries though; it’s all sorted now. That ‘orrible McCrackers woman seems to have taken ill and those big fellas have wandered off. Oh well!”

  And so, the first of Gran’s daily visits had taken place, and strangely, no hide or hair of Matron McCracken had been seen in the Ward since. But that had been a week ago and Mary still hadn’t heard a word from Roger, or Regor the unborn baby Dragon either. Her Gran, as
her only legal family member, had been her sole visitor, and this at least had been of some comfort; despite the fact they’d both been on edge regarding talking about what had happened that past weekend.

  Mary wanted to tell her Gran all about her adventures though and actually tell her everything. But she didn’t know how to begin. Strangely enough, Grannie Madden had the same problem. But after Mary had been in hospital a few days, her Gran came to the ward, just as she’d always done, right after lunch, and sat down by her bed. But this time, she didn’t start chattering on about the latest doings of Jemima their pet Parrot or Jerry the Cat, or about her aches and pains and the ointments and potions she’d been brewing. No, this time she just sat down in silence and then gave Mary a wet kiss on the forehead, and after a few coughs, finally said, “Well, I think it’s time we talks now, me dearie; some proper talkin’ I means, don’t you?” Then she winked at her, sighed, took a big breath and continued, “Yes, it's time that we both levels with one another an’ no fibbin’ now, dear, agreed?”

  Mary nodded, and Grannie Maddam smiled and then softly said, “Now, me dearie, I knows quite a lot about Dragons, I does, an’ a lot more besides. Lots I knows an’ lots I don’t, but I knows a lot more than all these ‘ere daft humdrums put together, an’ that’s a fact!” She paused, ensuring that Mary was getting her gist. “You gets me gist now, girl, don’tcha?” She slyly winked.”

  Mary just nodded, dumbstruck. “What!” she thought, “Could her dear, ol’ Grannie really know about Dragons and the Under Erf, and everything?” she gasped to herself, looking at her with wide, new-seeing eyes.

  “B-b-but Gran, how?” she stammered. “How do you know? I didn’t know anything ‘bout Dragons meself until last weekend. An’ I wanted to tell you; tell you everything that’s happened, but I didn’t know where to start.” Then she turned away, she really didn’t want to say anything that might hurt her Gran’s feelings, but then she pressed on and told her the truth: “And, well, I didn’t know if you’d believe me anyway! What if you thought I was mad, j-j-just like ‒ well, just like mum was s’posed to be? I’m sorry Gran; you won’t think I’m mad will you; you’ll believe me, won’t you?”