The old white transit van shot through the country lanes at breakneck speed, throwing its three young travellers in the back all over the place. In the front passenger seat sat Clare Bamford, a woman in her early sixties with a neat and sensible appearance. She gripped the dashboard in front of her. Her eyes were wide, startled and fixed firmly ahead as she barely glimpsed the whizzing landscape shooting past her. Professor Lawrence Haslett drove in the style he lived life - enthusiastically. He insisted on playing Beethoven at full blast as they tore around the countryside with one hand on the wheel, the other on the gear stick except when he thumped out prominent drum sounds in the air with his fist.

In the back, the three young archaeology students tried in vain to wedge a permanent seating among the rucksacks and boxes of equipment.

Mark Fisher banged his head on the side of the van as it went over a pothole in the road. He laughed as he rubbed his bruised scalp.

"This guy is nuts," he said to his two fellow students.

Another pothole lurched them forwards again. Maddy Shuttleworth looked like she wanted to throw up. Conner O´Donnell was cracking up in hysterics, the whole bizarre journey was like nothing he had experienced before.

Suddenly Lawrence slammed on the brakes sending the three students into a pile on the van floor.

"A-ha!" he cried in triumphant jubilation. "Here we are."

He turned right into a field and they bumped over the surface for a short while, until finally stopping completely. Lawrence turned off the engine and leapt out of the van. Nobody else moved. Clare still sat gripping the dashboard, staring ahead. The back doors to the van flung open and the three students looked up from their pile on the floor.

"Come on, come on, out you all get, breathe in this wonderful fresh Cornish air," Lawrence told them, seemingly unaware of their dishevelled and roughly travelled state. He flung out his arms and breathed in deeply and then let out a long "ahhhhhhhh" of satisfaction. He vanished to the side of the van and flung open the passenger door.

"Miss Bamford, is this place not wonderful?" he said to her.

She turned her head and blinked, "oh yes yes yes, quite breathtaking," she replied and uncurled her fingers from the dashboard stiffly.

"Right gang, up with the tents, I´m off to survey the site," Lawrence said and he strode away across the field leaving them in astonished wonder. "Clare, are you okay?" Maddy asked the older woman.

"I think so dear," Clare replied as she climbed down from her seat and planted her feet firmly down on thick shiny green grass that fluttered ripples across the field.

"Wow, I feel like I have a hangover, everything is still moving," Mark said.

"I feel sick," Maddy said.

Conner grinned. "I thought it was fun," he said pulling out the camping equipment from the back of the van.

"You would," Mark scoffed, "Maddy, if you´re going to be sick, don´t do it down wind from me please," he added as a sudden breeze whipped up around them.

"I´m not going to be sick, I just feel sick," she retorted.

"Let´s get things set up and then we can all sit down and have something to eat which will settle us," Clare suggested as she watched Lawrence´s vanishing figure at the far end of the field with some annoyance.

By the time Lawrence reappeared, Clare and the students had set up camp and were sitting around on tartan travel rugs, eating sandwiches and sipping freshly brewed tea made on a little gas camping stove.

"Good Lord, look at this lot sitting back and doing nothing," he exclaimed in wonder.

Conner laughed, but he wasn´t sure if the Professor was joking or not. Maddy looked around at the set up tents and wondered how he thought that had happened, and Mark snorted in disbelief. Clare said nothing.

"Where´s the bog?" Mark asked gazing around.

"The restrooms are in the next field," Clare told him correcting him on his use of words. "There is a campsite there and we have permission to use the toilets and the showers for a small fee."

"Where´s the pub?" Conner asked.

"Pub? Pub?" Lawrence said in amazement. "you really think you shall have time to be drinking in pubs?"

"Absolutely. It´s crucial for team morale," Conner grinned, unperturbed.

"Then I believe it´s 5 miles in that direction, and no, you can´t borrow the van," Lawrence grinned back as he pointed vaguely southward.

Conner´s smile faded, "Five miles?" he sipped his tea noisily, "Holy Mary, Mother of God, where have you brought us Professor, the back of beyond for sure?"

The moors stretched ahead of Trahern, through the misty rain. The warrior raised his head and halted his horse. He sat back in the saddle stretching his weary back. He had been on the road for days and now at long last he was almost home. His horse blew out warm air from her nostrils and scraped her hoof on the muddy ground.

"Aye, one more night and a day and we shall be back home Iola," he told the rain sodden animal.

He urged the horse onwards as it was getting late and darkness would fall soon. They were both tired and hungry, and there was no shelter here.

Trahern had been away for the last 6 months on an errand for his King. He had the ability to be able to merge in with all walks of life and often spent his time on the road collecting information from farmers, nobility and knights alike. King Erbin ruled the realm of Dumnonia, and lately threats from enemies outside of his borders had started to unsettle him. Trahern was one of his most trusted and loyal knights; he was Erbin´s eyes and ears beyond Dumnonia´s Borders.

Even though Trahern had travelled the moors many times, he had been eager to get home and had taken what he had thought to be a short cut. This was clearly a bad mistake on his part and he cursed himself as the endless and treeless land rolled out far into the distance. The misty rain was turning to thick fog. Just ahead he caught sight of a small light glowing and he quickened Iola´s pace.

A small stone cottage appeared and grateful for civilisation on the lonely trail, Trahern dismounted and knocked on the wooden door. The door creaked open and an old man looked out at him.

"What do you want?" he asked abruptly.

"Sir, I am travelling back home and seem to have lost my way slightly; my horse is tired and we are in need of shelter for the night," Trahern said and he suddenly realised he probably looked a real sight; wet, dirty and unshaven like a wild man.

The old man looked up Trahern´s bulky frame and studied his half shadowed face through slightly narrowed eyes as if assessing his character.

"Aye all right then, you and your horse can stay in the barn round the back. It´s not too big in there but it´s dry and comfortable enough. When you´re sorted you can come and collect some food," the man said, he sounded begrudging but clearly he had a charitable soul.

"I thank you Good Sir," Trahern smiled. The door was shut in his face and shrugging off the old man´s brusque manner he walked Iola to the barn and rid her of her heavy saddle. There was one other horse in the barn too and seeing Iola settled with food and water, Trahern made his way back to the cottage. He knocked on the door and this time it was opened by a pretty young woman with long dark hair. She smiled shyly at him as she handed him a bowl of broth and then blushed furiously when he smiled back at her. He decided with some amusement that he must not look too fierce and wild after all.

Back in the barn he removed his damp heavy cloak and laid it out to dry. Beneath the rough cloak Trahern´s clothes gave away his high ranking in the lands. A travel stained but rich purple and black tunic stitched with fine golden threads lay over his coat of chain mail. He propped his engraved sword, housed in an plain leather sheath up against the side of the barn and settled down to eat the bowl of broth. He noted it did not contain any meat; these people must struggle to survive up here he thought, and he wondered why they chose to stay here. The broth tasted good and it was hot and with the thick slice of bread he was soon full. Listening to the wind whistling through the barn, Trahern fell asleep.

Lawrence woke his young team up early the next morning. Straight after breakfast he had them down at the dig site. Some ancient artefacts had been found when a farmer had started digging the earth to lay foundations for a new barn and the University had been called in to investigate the area.

The site stood in a field above the cliffs. Below the cliffs, the sea crashed white and wildly among the jagged rocks. The skies were vivid blue with big cumulus clouds that blew across. The winds were quite breezy and Maddy pulled her long bright purple and pink hair tight into a ponytail in an attempt to control it.

They immediately started working, and bit-by-bit they chipped away at various points in the earth.

The morning was as near to perfect as Lawrence could hope for. Out in the sunshine, breathing in fresh wholesome air, working at his favourite job with like-minded people around him, with the sounds of metal trowels scraping the dry earth away and the sea on the rocks below the cliffs. Seagulls cried as they caught the dancing air currents above them and Lawrence sighed with pleasure. This was when he was most content.

"Lawrence, I think I´ve got something here," Maddy called out from her ditch in the ground.

Everyone stopped and looked up expectantly as Lawrence strode quickly over to her.

Maddy pointed with her trowel to a small patch where the earth was a different colour to the surrounding area.

"Something metallic?" she asked. "Or wood, maybe remains of a wooden structure,"she carried on, searching her mind frantically as she knew Professor Lawrence would want to hear all she had to say before letting her know if she was right or not. This was her first real dig and she was eager to impress her tutor.

"Hmm," Lawrence pondered, scraping around the patch gently. "Or even rusty old oil can, circa 1940s I´d say; yes quite old my dear but I think we are looking for something a little more ancient than that," he added as the side of it came into view where he had cleared the earth away.

The others had gathered round by now and Mark roared with laughter and walked away back to his own ditch.

"Never mind Maddy, he hasn´t found a thing yet," Conner said inclining his head after Mark. "He´s doing a good job at digging those foundation ditches for the farmer though!"

Mark´s head reappeared over the top of his hole. "I heard that," he said.

"Ah yes, Mark my lad, we´re not digging to China, please take it much more slowly, you could miss something crucial; gently gently gently, I cannot express that enough," Lawrence said gazing down into his ditch.

Suddenly a squeal of excitement sounded from Clare´s direction.

"Miss Bamford, what is it, what is it?" Lawrence squealed himself as he ran over to her.

Protruding out from the earth was the side of a skull. Everyone gathered around.

"My God Miss Bamford, carefully does it now," Lawrence stressed. Clare gave him a withering look and then continued to gently brush and scrape away the earth until half of it was in view.

"Right at this point, we have to call out the police. Just routine but it needs to be reported to make sure it isn´t recent," Lawrence said.

By morning the rain and winds had cleared and Trahern emerged from the barn to a much more pleasant landscape. The moorland stretched around him, shades of purple and pink heathers mixed with yellow gorse coloured the world he saw. Below the hill that the cottage stood on, was a lake and surrounding three quarters of the lake was a small forest of pine trees. Big puffy white clouds hung above him and were casting moving shadows across the expanse. A brisk breeze caught his hair. He could smell salt on the air and knew they couldn´t be too far from the sea.

Outside the young woman was chopping wood but it was hard going for her. Trahern walked over and took the axe from her.

"This is no job for a woman," he said to her.

"My father isn´t feeling too well this morning and this has to be done," she shrugged stepping aside.

"What is wrong with him?" Trahern asked letting the axe fall on a log. The log made a cracking sound and split, falling apart. He bent down and picked up the pieces and threw them on the small pile she had already cut.

"It´s his joints, they ache so, the weather up here does not help and last night was very damp," she sighed.

Trahern made no reply as he split another log. The woman turned and went back into the house. She emerged a few moments later with some breakfast for him. He had managed to double her logs in that time.

"What´s your name?" he asked accepting the meal from her.

"Brenna," she smiled.

"Have you thought about leaving this lonesome place and going somewhere less hard going, Brenna?" he said.

"Oh, father would never leave here," she told him.

"This is no place for a young woman, stuck out here with an old man," Trahern replied.

"This is our home, and gave you good shelter last night," she replied indignant.

He realised he had voiced his opinion where it was not wanted and he looked suitably ashamed, "I´m sorry," he apologised.

"I have to leave now, I´m going to the coast to buy fish," she said briskly.

"Then I must thank you now for your hospitality for I expect I shall be gone when you return," he told her.

She nodded. "Thank you...for the logs," she smiled again and he felt better.

Trahern watched her vanish from view through the heather. He chopped all the logs and stacked them up against the side of the cottage. There was enough now to keep them going for a while. He knocked on the cottage door and when there was no answer he pushed the door open and peered in. The old man was sleeping in a chair and so Trahern left a gold coin on the table as payment for his lodgings and then he bridled up Iola and left.

His own path took him seaward this time. He wondered if he might run into Brenna, he felt as if he wanted to apologise again. As he neared the tiny fishing community on the coast, he sensed something was wrong. Iola sensed it too for she whinnied nervously and he had to urge her on with firmness rather than just a word. Spirals of smoke reaching high into the sky came from the village and the smell of burning thatch reached Trahern´s nose.

Coming towards him across the fields was Brenna stumbling as she tried to run in her long skirts. Suddenly up from the village rose a winged beast with fire thrusting from its nostrils. Iola screeched with fear and rose on her hind legs almost throwing Trahern in her fright. The winged beast surveyed the destruction it had caused and then caught sight of Brenna running; an easy target, and it flapped its huge wings and rose higher and higher before dropping into a sweeping dive towards the ground.

Trahern leapt from Iola´s back and wrenched out his great sword from its scabbard. The engravings on the blade caught the sunlight and glittered brightly. He threw off his cloak and ran towards Brenna. She threw herself on the ground at his feet and he stood over her protectively.

"Morfran has awoke," Brenna sobbed with exhaustion.

Trahern gritted his teeth. The old Dragon had been asleep for many decades, so much so that they had all almost forgotten about him. Now he was awake and very hungry. The dragon could not help but notice the sword glinting and he pulled up short and landed in the field eyeing up the challenge keenly.

"Run to my horse and ride away as fast as you can," Trahern said to Brenna as he stepped forward to face the demon.

The dragon snorted and flapped his wings then lurched forward at Trahern. He swung his sword, the dragon pulled back and glared with fiery rage.

"Come on Morfran, you can do better than that," Trahern taunted.

The dragon blew out a blast of fire in response, lighting the dry grass nearby. He lurched forward again and Trahern leapt out of the way. He swung his sword again but just missed the beast´s neck. He cursed loudly. The dragon swung round to face him again. His flapping wings fuelled the burning grass and more caught alight, spreading quickly around them. Trahern glanced back and saw that Brenna and Iola were safe on the edge of the field.

Black smoke billowed skyward. Trahern coughed as the air around him was swiftly being taken away from him. Morfran roared, sensing victory within his grasp as the smoke overcame the warrior. He lunged at him again and swiped his clawed arm through the air catching Trahern across the chest. The chain mail was no protection against such a power. Then Morfran´s wing flapped again and sent Trahern with a crashing thud to the ground. All the breath was knocked out of the warrior. He struggled to gain his footing but he knew he was too badly hurt. As his lifeblood poured from his wounds he felt himself growing weaker. He got to his feet despite the pain but then stumbled and fell. Morfran roared in triumph, lifting his head high and throwing great flames into the air. Trahern saw his chance. The dragon had exposed his vulnerable spot in his early victory cry. Trahern flung his sword, and watched it shimmer through the air and with a satisfying slice it buried deep within the dragon�s chest.

Morfran fell dead to the ground. Trahern fell a moment later.

"I think I´ve found something here too," Conner said from his ditch. "Looks like more bones, but these are.....well, I´m not sure. They´re much bigger than human bones."

Lawrence for once was silent. He eyed what Conner had uncovered and did not know what to think.

"Hey it might be a Woolly Mammoth," exclaimed Mark with enthusiasm.

"Keep digging and scraping," Lawrence said waving his hand at the structure of bones Conner was uncovering. "And Mark help him out."

Lawrence went over to the ditch where Clare, and now Maddy, were carefully revealing a human skeleton. The local police officer had arrived and was hunkered down on the edge of the ditch looking down into it.

"Oh wow!" Maddy suddenly cried in excitement.

"What! What is it?" Lawrence demanded to know.

Maddy did not reply right away as she bent over the skeleton and scraped carefully around something laid on top of it.

"What is it?" Lawrence repeated his question impatiently.

"Wait," Clare told him as she helped the student scrape.

By now, some people had begun to gather in the field, mostly holidaymakers staying at the campsite in the next field. Word had started getting around that a group of archaeologists were working there and were beginning to come up with finds.

Maddy shifted aside and revealed a long object. "I think it´s a sword," she said. Lawrence jumped down beside her and ran his finger carefully over it.

"Yes, it is," he laughed. "carefully now, we need pictures of this and we must try and keep it intact when we remove it."

The necessary photos and sketches were done and then the object was removed slowly from the earth and put in a tray lined with cotton wool. It had eroded in half at one point but clearly it was a sword encrusted with centuries of dirt.

"Definitely a ritual burial, just look at the layout of the body and the sword placed like that in his hands. This person was a big man too, he must have been a great warrior," Lawrence said to Clare, waving his hand over the rough sketch he had made.

He went over to check the other ditch where Mark and Conner were working.

"This is strange, what do you think it is Lawrence?" Mark asked cocking his head on the side to try and view the bones that had been uncovered so far.

"At this stage I have no idea; I thought it might be a horse or something but it´s larger than that. We´re going to have to dig out a bigger area I think," the Professor said.

The light was beginning to fade for the day and so it was decided to leave further exploration until morning when they could bring a digger back in.

The following day, some of Lawrence´s colleagues and extra hands arrived on the scene. What they finally unearthed stunned them all. At first they thought they had found dinosaur bones but the dating of the bones was all wrong. These bones were much later than that and the shape of them was like nothing ever recorded before. The creature had the body of a long great reptile and huge powerful wings.

They had an artist draw up an impression of the beast from the bone structure and what faced them from the page blew their minds.

"Looks like a dragon," Clare gasped as she peered at the sheet of paper.

"Well, there is a local myth about a dragon that used to slumber under the cliffs, and a heroic dragon slayer who killed it one day, but it´s never been given much substance...you know, just folklore stuff," one of the local constables laughed.

"You might just want to put a little more substance into that myth Constable, for it appears that what you have here is a slain warrior and a slain dragon buried here in one of your local fields....go figure," Lawrence said using one of his favourite new sayings he had picked up from students.

Everything was packed up carefully and carted off back to the University for inspection and analysis. Clare and the students packed up their tents while Lawrence stood looking over the refilled ditches. When everyone was ready to leave, Maddy ran over to the Professor.

"Well, we´re all packed up," she told him.

He nodded in acknowledgment. Maddy hesitated for a moment and then came to stand beside him, watching a golden pink sunset start its descent into the sea.

"You know, it´s not enough is it?" she said with a sigh.

Lawrence looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"Archaeology, digging up the past to find out the story...it´s not enough. I mean, what was this warriors name, where was he going, what was he like, was he a nice person or a complete bastard."

Lawrence grinned and nodded in agreement. "Yep, what we find is just the tip of the iceberg, the rest is pure speculation...frustrating isn´t it?"

"Very," Maddy smiled. They both returned their eyes to the sunset and stood in thoughtful silence.

© Carolyn Eddy 2002