"Let me get this straight," exclaimed George dubiously, "you were going to skin it!"
"To make sausages," added Sam.
The group of engineers, who had moved closer to back up George if needed, burst into laughter as one. Everyone else looked on in astonishment as Sam's face turned a deep shade of scarlet. George urged the crowd to quieten down.
"Sam, my young friend, you seem full of noble sentiment, which I admire greatly. But unfortunately there is a much bigger picture, which because of your age, you fail to grasp. Perhaps you'd like to take your knife and try and skin the dragon for me? If you succeed you can keep all the meat you like."
With the eyes of the entire crowd on him, Sam pulled a bright, shiny knife with a dull leather handle out from his belt and stepped determinedly towards the dragon. With the knife in his right hand, the muscles in both arms bulging and his left hand braced against the dragon's right thigh for purchase, he drew back his arm and, with all his might, thrust the knife towards the dragon's flesh.
At the first point of contact the knife buckled in on itself, the shock from the impact forcing Sam to drop the crumpled blade onto the cobbles. The clang echoed across the square as the onlookers and Sam all gasped in amazement at what had happened.
George put a comforting arm around Sam's burly shoulders.
"Sorry Sam, that was a bit mean of me, but I thought a demonstration would be more effective than anything I could say. One of the reasons we need to take the carcass away, is that it requires special measures to dispose of a dead dragon."
Sam gawped, open mouthed.
"I... I... I understand," he stuttered.
George smiled at the boy, pushing the lie he'd just told far to the back of his mind.
"But since you seem to have ruined your best knife, you can have mine as a token of how sorry I am that your very worthy idea hasn't come off," said George, slipping a gleaming dagger made from white gold, tiny jewels embedded into the hilt, into the youngster’s outstretched, quivering hands.
Managing to squeak a "Thank you," Sam rapidly slipped back through the crowd in the direction of his father's shop.
With the excitement over, everybody went back to their work with a quiet dignity, knowing they had all contributed to a job well done.
By early afternoon the building work was complete and the city's giant crane perched precariously over the body of the outstretched dragon, like a huge heron waiting to rip into the water to nab an unsuspecting fish. Leather harnesses crisscrossed the dragon's body, meeting in the centre above it to form a gigantic net. Horses that many of George’s companions had arrived on had been tethered together and attached to the front of the double freight sleighs that stood off to one side of the square. Axus was busy co-ordinating the efforts of all of the engineers. Time ticked by slowly as the crane took up the slack in the gigantic net. Creaking and groaning timbers whipped in the wind across the city as the dragon corpse was raised a foot into the air. Collectively, everyone held their breath as they watched from the city's walls, hanging out of windows, perched on balconies, or caught up in the six deep crowds that lined the square. Much like the feast from the previous night, it was something they would never forget. With the dragon suspended in mid-air, the sleighs were guided very slowly into position underneath. Gently, the monstrous beast was lowered onto the makeshift transport, to a resounding round of applause.
Checking the sleighs to make sure they were secure before lining up behind them, the engineers, politicians and planners created two lines in front, to form a convoy facing the south eastern exit of the city. George shook hands with the mayor and took his place at the head of the procession, leading them towards the exit to a fanfare of trumpeters, high up on the city's walls.
A small familiar figure broke ranks from the six deep crowd lining the route and sprinted towards George. Those surrounding him stood ready to act, but it wasn't necessary.
"Sam, my young friend, whatever are you doing?" enquired George as the city watched.
Slipping off a heavy backpack almost as big as he was, Sam offered it out to the gallant knight.
"For the journey," panted the youngster, having run all the way from his father's shop.
George looked at the young man quizzically.
"My dad's best sausages. You'll need something good to eat."
The dragon slayer's smile nearly outshone the sun as he accepted the backpack, passing it back over his shoulder to one of the planners, before ruffling Sam's hair playfully and then offering his thanks. For his part, Sam sprinted back to the edge of the crowd where his father duly waited. Excitement over, the journey continued.
It took an agonisingly long time to reach the gate, but when George finally crossed beneath it, he reflected on all that had happened in such a short space of time. The good folks of the city waved him off believing he'd conjured up some sort of miracle to defeat the murderous dragon. It had been a one-sided fight, that was for sure, but not quite as one-sided as the citizens believed. Truth was far stranger than fiction, and not really ready to be disclosed to the humans that he'd spent so much time with recently. Briefly, he wondered if it would ever be revealed... you see he and his fellow travellers were dragons as well, only they were currently in their mutatio form.
Being a dragon in human form (mutatio) gave George enormous advantages over normal humans. Superior strength, incredible stamina, off the scale intelligence, amazing agility and cat-like reflexes were just some of the many benefits. Those, along with his enhanced metabolism and a much higher tolerance for pain, made him tougher than old boots, very difficult to wound, and almost impossible to kill. That's not to say the battle of over a week ago was a fair fight. It clearly wasn't. A dragon in its natural solitus form is virtually impossible to kill. A normal human being would have no chance of killing a dragon in its natural state as there is only one spot on its entire body where it is vulnerable, and it would take a perfect strike to actually slay it. Even a blow to injure it would be remote, as generally the area of vulnerability is very small.
During the battle, George was able to discern exactly where Troydenn's susceptibility was because no matter what form they're in, dragons can always see another dragon's weak spot, as it's known. George very deliberately thrust his sword into that self same weak spot at an angle, knowing that a killing blow would have been avoided, but at the same time inflicting massive amounts of pain, and incapacitating his enemy for some time to come.
As he pondered all of this, the troop and the giant sleighs ferrying the matt black dragon passed out of the city and into the countryside.
For the next five hours they travelled, before finding a suitable place to stop for the night, just before sunset. Having not journeyed quickly enough to reach the spot they'd hoped to, they had to make do with a clearing near a small brook, off the main route, if you could call it that. As the horses were loosed from the burden of the sleighs and led to the brook to drink their fill, George told everyone what they needed to do.
"We need torches and lots of them. Plant them in the ground to form concentric circles all the way to the edge of the road with Troydenn at the centre. I don't want anyone sneaking up on us. If they're going to come for him, I want to see what we're facing. We will fight them here, and we WILL win. It's too important not to. Get used to this, because at our current speed, we're going to have at least two more nights in the countryside before we reach the cave's entrance."
It didn't take long for George's orders to be carried out. With guards posted all around the clearing, the horses fed and watered and a small fire set up in the middle of the ramshackle camp for cooking, some of the contingent settled down for rest, others to eat, while one or two sat together shooting the breeze. It was eerily quiet with everyone being so on edge.