Page 25 of The Dungeon Book

He kicked open the door of the bathhouse with surprising valour.

“Show yourself, monster, and prophesy for me.”

Again, the monster stirred, and twisted its head so the sunlight filtering in through the bathhouse door caught its serried rows of teeth.

In response, the captain brandished his sword, and clanged it against the boss of his sturdy shield. “I have steel to match your teeth.”

The monster took another step towards the light, and the captain saw that it also had many, many claws.

That afternoon, the captain summoned his lieutenant up from the garrison in the occupied town.

“How many men do you have in the garrison?”

“Thirty, sir, and we’re hard-pressed to keep order in the town. Do you think you can prevail upon the king to send more?”

The captain ignored him. “I need six of them up here.” He thought for a moment, and decided he did not like how the servants had whispered. “Actually, make it a dozen.”

It was late evening before the last of the soldiers climbed the steep hill and assembled in the courtyard of the villa. The captain reviewed his troops, with their serried spears and bright armour, then marched them down to the bottom of his garden. Some of the soldiers laughed, but it was relief to be up here in the safety of the villa, rather than down in the streets of the ruined town where people threw stones and spat at the occupying soldiers, and ambush waited around every corner.

The captain entered the bathhouse once more. “I do not fear your teeth, and I have spears to match your claws.” The soldiers were well disciplined, and did not quail when they glimpsed the monster’s shining claws. A dozen spears bristled as one!

In response, the creature spread its wide wings, and let the moonlight shine on the magnificence of their leathery span.

The revelation that the monster could fly troubled the captain greatly, and consideration of that tactical problem eclipsed all other concerns. He deferred his meetings with the merchants and other worthies of the occupied town; he neglected to send the letter his lieutenant had suggested, calling for reinforcements. Instead, he worried about the airiness of the villa that he had so admired, with its wide windows and open courtyard. It was, he felt, remarkably vulnerable to aerial assault. A flying monster could flit around the hill and strike with impunity at the villa’s weakest spots. All the spearmen and guards were useless against such a foe.

After several long and sleepless nights, and a great deal of strong coffee, the captain summoned the lieutenant once more. He did not notice the fresh cuts on the lieutenant’s face (inflicted by hurled stones), or how eagerly the haggard lieutenant fell upon the steaming coffee.

The captain handed the lieutenant a sheaf of papers. “I need ropes. Chains. Timber for temporary towers, but we’ll replace them with good solid brickwork as soon as we can.”

The lieutenant studied the plans. His hand shook as he replaced the coffee cup in its saucer. “Many of those construction supplies,” he said, “were allocated to the reconstruction of the town.”

The captain waved his hand. “A temporary delay to assure future security.”

“You’ll need labourers, too, to build all this.”

The captain considered this. “Send some up. Oh, and give me another half-dozen soldiers, to keep an eye on them.”

*

Now in the garden of the hilltop villa bloomed a strange thing. It might have been a landlocked sailing ship, with its rigging and its masts and sails. It might have been a snare for rocs or other great birds, with all its ropes and hooks. In the rubble-choked streets, the people whispered that it was a new sort of gallows, and the invaders meant to hang anyone who defied them.

The garden of the villa was plunged into shadow by all the ropes and chains that criss-crossed the sky. The captain gave a lantern to the head servant, and commanded him to accompany the soldiers down to the bathhouse. The captain pushed the door open, and pushed the servant in.

The light revealed the monster, spread out lazily like a fat house cat. “I have a sword,” said the captain, “to match your teeth. I have spearmen to match your claws. And through ingenuity, I have countered your last advantage. Flight will not avail you, beast. Now, prophesy for me!”

“I already gave you one,” said the monster, “and am not inclined to revise it.”

“Beware!’ said the servant, and he shone the light of the lantern on a dark shape that slithered across the floor of the bathhouse. At first, the captain did not understand what he was looking at, but then he realised it was the scorpion tail of the monster. He threw himself out of the door and slammed it behind him, just as the poisonous stinger struck.

The old servant’s screams were regrettably prolonged.

“The beast,” said the captain to no one in particular, “has a venomous sting.”

He returned to his villa to consider the problem. He even asked his lieutenant for counsel, but received only a scrawled note that he did not bother reading. (It said “FEAR WE ARE SURROUNDED SEND RELIEF”.) Finally, he invited the merchants and other worthies to dine with him in the villa. Only a few attended, and they were all ones who had profited from the war and the occupation and the sufferings of their fellows.

In the absence of the head servant, the captain himself waited on them, bringing them silver plates laden with dates and sweetmeats and cyanide. And after the convulsions were done, he had his soldiers pick up the bodies and carry them down the garden.

The servants, and indeed many of his soldiers, were appalled by this. The captain assured them it was a necessary evil, but some of the servants fled.