"DRAGONSLAYER" Screenplay by Hal Barwood and Matthew Robbins SHOOTING DRAFT FADE IN: CASTLE - NIGHT Now comes the moon riding over the horizon. Upon a hill at the edge of the wood squats a castle, its crude stonework bathed in cold silvery light. Queer carvings and runes decorate the ponderous gate. Heavy vines are climbing up the walls. The castle is old, its unfamiliar form testament to an ancient mind and an ancient craft. Flickering candle light dances on a leaded windowpane. Inside, the corridors are dark and silent. Under low arched ceilings the uneven floors are paved with stone blocks. Perched over lintels and crouched in niches are icons with strange animal heads. HODGE A sleep on a straw palette in a room strewn with vegetables and crockery is Hodge, a wrinkled old retainer. A flickering candle and empty jug are beside the bed. He is snoring gently. CONJURING ROOM This circular chamber at the heart of the castle is stuffed with parchments, scrolls, dusty books, bronze braziers, glass retorts, chemical salts, birds both stuffed and caged. An iron candelabra stands on a work table, tapers burning. In the soft glow it seems that the room is unoccupied, but no, moving in the background is a shadowy figure, preparing for a magical deed. Feet are positioned carefully within a pentagram chiseled into the floor. A scroll is consulted; up comes an arm and a voice blurts out: VOICE Omnia in duos: Duo in Unum: Unus in Nihil: Haec nec Quattuor nec Omnia nec Duo nec Unus nec Nihil Sunt. Nothing happens. VOICE Come on, candles, out! But the little flames stand at attention without so much as a tremble. VOICE In Volunta Divina et Verbum Magi: Lux! Exstinguat! It's no use. There is a sigh and the figure moves forward into the light. Revealed in the glow is the discouraged face of Galen Bradwardyn, sorcerer's apprentice. TOWER Carrying the candelabra, the youth trudges up a circular staircase. TURRET The highest point of the castle is a turret, open to the stars and the night air. Here, more magic is afoot. An old enchanter, Ulrich, Magister Ipsissimus, pours water from a silver ewer into a stone bowl. As the surface ripples disappear he leans forward and gazes into the pool. All at once his face hardens as the distant sounds of screams and thunder reach his ears. Lights and shadows, reflected from within the basin, play across his face. His frown deepens as the sound of his own voice comes to him from the vision in the water -- Draco draconis -- suddenly squelched by the roar of flame and an ugly snarl. At that moment Galen reaches the top of the steps and holds up the candelabra. GALEN Vide, Magister. There's something wrong. Ulrich, startled from his trance, slaps the water out of the basin and turns to confront his student. Galen is taken aback by the old man's grim countenance. GALEN What's the matter? What's happened? ULRICH I've just seen something. Something of consequence to you. GALEN To me? ULRICH (calm) Yes. My own death. With a distracted gesture he causes the flames to extinguish themselves. ULRICH Perhaps we had better hasten your training. CUT TO: BARNYARD - DAY Outside the castle wall Hodge is feeding the chickens and ducks. He straightens up and squints through the early morning mists. On a distant hillock two figures are moving toward the woods. ULRICH AND GALEN Hobbling slowly with the aid of a pair of canes, Ulrich guides his pupil across a wooden bridge and along a stream into the forest. ULRICH (stern and troubled) This wood, these leaves, the birds, the very dome of heaven, once they all rang with one great chord: and philosophers like me kept it all in tune. Now, new voices are singing new songs. (sharply) Have you mastered the threefold transmutation? GALEN Of course. ULRICH (skeptical) You have? GALEN Well, almost. ULRICH It's very difficult. Have you committed to memory undying the Codex de Profundis? GALEN (a shrug) The first two chapters. ULRICH It's long. And what about the Ritual of Banishment as prescribed by my late master Balisarius? GALEN To tell the truth, I haven't dared try it. What's the point, anyway? ULRICH The point? The point is you don't know it, and you're no magician without it. It was my hope to school you, to mold your faculties and wits... I still believe you have some talent. Somewhere. GALEN I hate books. I hate drill. I want a real task. ULRICH There's no time now. When I'm gone, half the powers in the universe will vanish with me. And what's the use of a few lingering skills if they're left in the hands of a child? (pause) Listen! GALEN I don't hear anything. Ulrich gauges the young man standing before him and makes a decision. Reaching under his cloak he lifts off a fine silver chain with an amulet dangling from it. He drapes it around Galen's neck. ULRICH Here, wear this. Galen instinctively wraps his hand around the jewel. He cocks an ear. GALEN Voices, singing on the road. He hastens forward to a promontory, eager to have a look. Ulrich does not follow. Instead, doffing his cloak, he whirls it before him, where it magically floats a few feet off the ground. Awkwardly, the old man clambers aboard. GALEN I don't see anything. He turns back, but the wizard is gone. A shadow falls over him. He looks up. There, two hundred feet above the tree tops his master is soaring on the wind. AIRBORNE The old conjurer squints into the distance. Miles away and far below a company of drab walkers winds along the margins of the forest. They are singing a mournful round. GALEN He gawks skyward. Suddenly, the old man leans down and addresses him. ULRICH (a shout) We have visitors! CUT TO: ROTUNDA - NIGHT Clustering together in the center of a wide reception hall is a contingent of weary peasants, awkward amidst the dusty rugs, drapes and heavy furniture. Their leader is a fineboned youth, not yet twenty. Like the others, he is uneasy; his name is Valerian. Hodge enters and sets a tray of mead before them. He leaves without a word. The visitors stare glumly at the refreshment, but are too timorous to go near it. CONJURING ROOM Galen helps Ulrich prepare for the audience. The sorcerer peers at himself in a full-length mirror, adjusting the hem of a black robe. ULRICH Looks forbidding enough, don't you think? GALEN Here are your sticks. ULRICH No -- they'll think me infirm. You know, Balisarius wore this whenever he changed lead into gold. He could really do that, you know. I never could. Too bad -- you'd stand to inherit some real wealth. GALEN You're in a morbid frame of mind. What's all this about dying? You don't even look sick. ULRICH (tying on a sash) You still wearing that amulet? (Galen nods) Good. Don't lose it. It still belongs to me. He backs away from the mirror and fits a silver coronet onto his head. ULRICH Now, adeptus minor, get yourself a handful of that sulphurous ash over there... The sorcerer starts down a circular stone staircase. THE ROTUNDA The visitors watch warily as a door swings open and Galen makes his entrance, his face expressionless and hands pressed together. He looks rather young to be the famous Ulrich. Galen allows a moment to go by, then throws his arms wide. Ka-whump! and Ulrich appears in the doorway in a smoky fireball. Alarmed, the visitors retreat. ULRICH Nunc habeus lux! Pffst! around the room candles flare in their niches. ULRICH Et calor! In the fireplace, the birch logs are suddenly ablaze. Ulrich totters to the hearth and extends long bony fingers toward the warmth. ULRICH Welcome to Cragganmore. I am Ulrich. Which one of you calls himself Valerian? The travelers are suitably dazzled by the magician's performance. The young leader of the party screws up his courage and speaks. VALERIAN That would be me. We are here on behalf... ULRICH I know why you're here. You're a delegation from Urland, from beyond Dalvatia. Let's see the artifacts. The travelers exchange nervous glances. Valerian motions to one of his companions. The man steps forward and hands over a leather pouch. One by one, Valerian places the contents on the table for Ulrich's inspection. VALERIAN A bone. Scorched. A rock, fire- blackened. (pause) Scales. At this, Ulrich advances and closely examines three shimmering irridescent disks as big as saucers. ULRICH All right. How did you come by these? VALERIAN (proudly) I found them. At the mouth of the lair. ULRICH (grim) What else? Valerian reaches under his jerkin and withdraws what appears to be a curved sword. He jabs it into the table. VALERIAN A claw. ULRICH That's no claw. It's a tooth. By the gods! He runs a finger along a serrated edge and gazes bleakly at his visitors. ULRICH And you want me to do battle with that? Valerian has lost all trace of timidity. VALERIAN Who else can we turn to? We all know what we're dealing with here. This is a basilicok. (he takes a step forward) A cockatrice. (another step, bolder) A dragon. (he leans close to Ulrich) This is no stag, no bear, no natural creature. This is one of your kind. And only a necromancer such as yourself can rid us of it. ULRICH Did you try the Meredydd sisters? What about Rinbod? I've heard it said he killed a dragon once. VALERIAN They're all dead. You're the only one left. With a sigh, Ulrich lowers himself into a chair. He rubs his withered legs and shakes his head. ULRICH It's a long way to Urland. VALERIAN Every quarter, upon the solstices and the equinoxes there's a new victim. Greil, a grizzled peasant, speaks up. GREIL My daughter, for one. OTHER TRAVELERS My sister... cousins... ULRICH All women? VALERIAN Girls. Virgins, to be exact, chosen by lot. Galen edges over to the table and inspects the scales and tooth. GALEN Master, don't you think -- ULRICH Silence! He broods for a long time. VALERIAN Are you afraid of dragons? ULRICH No. Sorcerers and dragons go back a long long time together. If it weren't for sorcerers, there wouldn't be any dragons. (pause) All right. I'll go. CUT TO: COURTYARD - DAY The travelers are making ready for departure in the grey light of dawn. As Hodge stuffs provisions into a wicker box, Ulrich wraps padding on a newly fashioned pair of crutches. ULRICH I know of this dragon. Vermithrax Pejorative: she's four hundred years old. As far as I can tell she's the last of her kind. Very appropriate that I'm the one to finish her off, don't you think? (he tries out the crutches) There. Flatten the highest mountain. What say you, Galen? (no answer) Speak up. (still no answer) You, Hodge. Hodge mutters something inaudible and grimly keeps packing. ULRICH (to Galen) While I'm gone see you keep your nose in your books and your hands out of my reagents. Leave my instruments alone too. Galen crouches against the castle wall; he regards his master sullenly. GALEN Look at yourself. How far will you get like that? A league, two leagues? ULRICH I'm not worried about the road. GALEN (sarcastic) Why don't you wave your hands around and summon up a coach-and-four? ULRICH Don't mock me. Galen gets up and calls out to the Urlanders. GALEN You pilgrims: You're used to lotteries. Why not draw straws to see who'll be first to carry ironshanks here. This is too much for Hodge. HODGE Hold your tongue. If the master's got a mind to go, he'll go. Galen approaches the old sorcerer. GALEN Send me. You're always saying I need seasoning. I need a test. Let me go. ULRICH You're not ready. GALEN I'm ready for anything. ULRICH (wan smile) Don't be so hasty. Your time will come. The walkers are ready to set forth. Hodge picks up his pack, steps forward and pulls open the great gate. HORSEMEN Three mounted men are outside the gate, helmets on their heads, swords on the belts and longbows across their shoulders. They look formidable. The Urlanders take a step backward. VALERIAN Tyrian!? Tyrian is a lean, heavily bearded nobleman. There is a coat of arms on the shield strapped to the pommel of his saddle. TYRIAN (amiable) Good morning, all. VALERIAN We're not afraid of you. Give us the road. TYRIAN Why, the road is yours. All the way to Urland. It's a long journey, isn't it? But when you're in search of a sorcerer, I suppose no distance is too great. Sensing trouble, Galen moves forward. Ulrich touches his arm. ULRICH (under his breath) Say nothing. Galen hears the urgency in the old man's voice and obeys. Hodge takes it upon himself to deal with the strangers. HODGE What do you want with us? TYRIAN Well, like my good friends here, I've come for a bit of black magic. No doubt you've heard of our troubles at home. This is Cragganmore, is it not? HODGE Aye, this be the place of Ulrich. Tyrian dismounts and saunters up to the old magician. TYRIAN And here we have the mystical presence himself, no? HODGE You'd best keep your distance -- and your manners. TYRIAN If he's ready to lay a dragon in its grave, he's got nothing to fear from me. (turns to the Urlanders) I've no more love for that creature than you lot. Nor has the King. But, before you stir things up, don't you think it a good idea to see you've got the right man for the job? HODGE Aha -- it's a test you're looking for. We don't do tests. TYRIAN I'm sure you don't. They never do tests -- and not many real deeds either. Oh, conversation with your grandmother's shade in a darkened room, the odd love potion or two... but comes a doubter, well then, it's the wrong day, the planets are not aligned, the entrails aren't favorable, we don't do tests. VALERIAN We've got no doubts. We require no test. HODGE And you're not going to get one. When Ulrich finally speaks, his voice is low and authoritative. ULRICH (to Galen) Go to the conjuring room. The iron box. Fetch me the dagger within. Galen's eyes widen with alarm. ULRICH The dagger. Be quick. Galen dashes into the castle. Ulrich gazes almost shyly at Tyrian. ULRICH You shall have your test. CONJURING ROOM Galen comes puffing up the steps, locates the iron box, and flings it open. Amidst the tawdry paraphernalia of a professional magician is an ivory-handled dagger covered with runic inscriptions. Galen eagerly examines it to see how the blade might twist aside or collapse into the handle, but it is all too genuine. A murder weapon. ULRICH'S VOICE (impatient) Where are you, boy? I'm waiting. Galen throws open a window and looks down into the courtyard. He displays the dagger. GALEN Not this one, was it? ULRICH The very one. Let it fall. Galen hesitates, then tosses it. Tumbling end over end, it arcs downward. The old conjurer calmly stretches out a hand and plucks it neatly out of the air. Galen watches as Ulrich passes the weapon to Tyrian and strips back his robe exposing a bony chest. Galen knows what's coming. He rushes for the door. He's only a step away when it bangs shut of its own accord. He sprints for a second exit. Whack! This door slams shut too. Locked in. Quick, back to the window and climb down the vine... Smack! the heavy shutters seal him in. ULRICH AND TYRIAN Ulrich takes Tyrian's arm and guides the point of the dagger to his breastbone. ULRICH Vita regula, vita hieratica! Everyone is filled with dread. Hodge is shaking. From the castle come the rattling of shutters and Galen's muffled cries. A sick sarcastic smile has crept over Tyrian's lips. He tenses himself to thrust. ULRICH Go on. Don't worry, you can't hurt me. CONJURING ROOM Galen stops hammering and presses his face to a crack in the shutter. Below he can see the participants in this grisly drama. He holds his breath. Tyrian makes a sudden movement and buries the blade in Ulrich's chest. But the sorcerer stands unbent, seemingly unhurt. Then, after a long moment, he slowly sags forward over the dagger and the hand that holds it. Tyrian shrinks back and allows the body to fall in a heap. Very quickly he remounts. In another moment he and his companions are gone. The others are riveted in horror. Hodge sinks to his knees and wails his grief. Galen turns away from the window and gazes blankly into the gloomy conjuring room. Click! The doors unlatch themselves and swing open. CUT TO: FUNERAL PYRE - DAY Ulrich, principal magician and sorcerer of the western world, reposes on a hardwood pyre. His hands are folded on his chest. His face is peaceful. While the visitors wordlessly look on, Galen touches a burning brand to the kindling. At first the fire catches normally enough, but when the flames start to envelop the body they suddenly turn pale green, producing an unearthly roar. The onlookers back away from the intense heat. GALEN The erstwhile apprentice stands his ground, blinking back tears, his face weirdly illuminated by the fire. CUT TO: CONJURING ROOM - DAY Galen sits alone amidst the museum-like collection of magical apparatus. He stares at the amulet, considering its significance. His reverie is interrupted by the murmur of voices below. At the window he looks down to see Hodge bidding farewell to the delegation from Urland. Valerian is the last to leave. He pauses at the gate and glances up at Galen. Then he moves on. The young student of magic sets his jaw, suddenly filled with resolve. Moving through the room, he busies himself with the old man's effects. He scoops up the loose books and parchments and locks them into trunks. He drapes muslin cloths over the alchemical devices. He sows a handful of salt over the pentagram inscribed in the floor. Finally, he opens the cages and releases the crow, the falcon, and the great horned owl. COURTYARD Hodge is up on the burned out funeral pyre, anxiously scraping ashes and small bones into a leather pouch -- the remains of Ulrich. Up behind him comes Galen, now clad in a traveler's cloak, with a pack on his back and a staff in his hand. GALEN Hodge -- what are you doing? Hodge quickly conceals the pouch. HODGE Just making my farewell, thank you very much. He quickly climbs down, picks up his pack and follows Galen out through the gate. As the door is pushed shut a huge oaken timber falls into place, barring the castle against the uninvited. CUT TO: HILLTOP - DAY Galen and Hodge labor to the crest of a grassy hill and turn to look back across a wide valley. There on another hilltop on the far side sits Cragganmore, lit by the red rays of the setting sun. Galen removes the amulet from his neck and clutches it in his fist. Hodge is bug-eyed to see it. HODGE Be careful with that! You don't know what you're doing. GALEN Stand back! He raises his hands toward the castle and calls out: GALEN Cragganmore! Domus non i am! Silva celet! CRAGGANMORE The vines on the castle walls begin to twitch and stretch, magically brought to animate life. They flow upward over the masonry, branching out and covering every surface, then up onto the roof. Finally only the tops of the chimneys and the highest turrets stand above the green carpet. A century's growth in a matter of seconds. GALEN & HODGE On their hilltop the old retainer gives the youth a fearful look. Galen is too flushed with excitement over what he has done to notice. DISSOLVE: FOREST PATH - DAY Galen and Hodge trudge along an overgrown cart-track under an arch of trees. HODGE Oh, it's a vale of tears in which we dwell. It doesn't matter who you are, a king in his robes, a peasant in his rags, when your time comes, no magic can save you... GALEN I guess... The apprentice's mind is elsewhere: he's got a coin hovering in mid-air above his palm, bobbing gently as he walks. HODGE ...the kindest lord a man could ask for... now he's gone. Ye gods he was fussy about his bath. And you'd think he could boil his own eggs with the snap of a finger, but no, he had old Hodge do it, of course. (snurfling) Up before five I was, mucking out the cages, slopping the pigs, and never once got so much as a thankyou or a pat on the back... (through tears) I'm going to miss him. GALEN Me too... He plucks a low-hanging leaf, waves a hand over it, and watches it turn into a spray of daffodils. HODGE No you don't. All you care about is the tricks and knavery. Well, you don't pull any wool over these old eyes. It'll be a mighty long walk before you fill his shoes, you mark my word. GALEN What's the matter, Hodge, pack too heavy? Here. He gives the pack a slap. It flies out of its harness and floats alongside them. Hodge snatches it back and clutches it tightly. HODGE Careful with that! GALEN Too cold, is it? A great coat drapes itself over Hodge's shoulders. HODGE Stop it! GALEN Too warm? The greatcoat disappears, as do the rest of his garments, leaving him in his smalls. HODGE (spluttering) Stop it, I say! Out of respect for the master! Suppressing a grin, Galen mercifully waves his hand and restores Hodge to his usual costume. GALEN I've got as much respect for the master as anyone, old man. But -- then again, I'm master now. CUT TO: TRAVELERS' CAMP - NIGHT The Urlanders are gathered around a fire, sharing a meager supper. The man named Greil pokes at the stew-pot. GREIL I left my farm with seeds unplanted, calves unborn, nothing but a wife to chase down the strays, and for what? A funeral, that's what. He walks up and down behind Valerian. GREIL Because some people said, find a magician. Not just a local fellow, an import, a good forty leagues from home. An all-powerful necromancer. Ha -- some necromancer! Malkin, an older man, speaks up. MALKIN Hold your tongue, Greil. Sit. Eat. GREIL I'll not sit. I'll not eat. See you the Great Bear. His tail points east. It's the equinox. Have you forgotten? Or rather not think about it? VALERIAN (miserable) He's right. I brought us here for nothing. May the gods help whoever's daughter it is tonight. There is a noise from the darkness beyond the campfire. Two of the men get to their feet and listen. At first silence, then more rustling. Without a word the two men dart into the bushes and haul two interlopers before the company: Galen and Hodge. HODGE Good morrow, good morrow. Peace be with you. GALEN Easy now. We mean no harm. We've been looking for you. GREIL (growl) Well, you've found us. GALEN (brushing himself off) More the other way around, I'd say. VALERIAN What do you want? GALEN A few words, that's all. You were looking for a conjurer. VALERIAN He's dead. GALEN Right. Requiscat in pace. (he takes a deep breath) Ecce: magister novus! GREIL How say you? Galen surveys the puzzled faces. He draws himself up and plunges in: GALEN My lord Ulrich is no longer. All that you asked of him, you may now expect of me. The dangers he would face, I will now conquer. The task he would undertake I will now fulfill. I am Galen Bradwardyn, inheritor of Ulrich's craft and knowledge, and I am the Sorcerer you seek. There is a moment of depressed silence. Hodge rolls his eyes. Greil starts to chuckle, then to laugh. Soon the others are laughing too. GREIL Well, that's a handsome thought, O wizard of wizards. But if there's one thing our friend Tyrian has shown us, it's to beware the pig in the poke. Who's got a dagger? HODGE No tests!! GREIL Call it proof, then. Someone brings out a dagger and hands it to Greil. Valerian pushes it away. VALERIAN We've seen enough tests. But Greil persists, waving the knife at the group. GREIL Well I haven't. All I've seen is death. Death in our families, death on the road, and tonight, death at home. He lashes out with the knife. Galen jumps back, but Valerian steps in, delivering a quick kick to Greil's gut, followed by a right to the jaw that sends the bigger man sprawling. He takes the knife. VALERIAN What's come over you, anyway? Have you lost your wits? He propels Galen out of harm's way and sits him down on the other side of the fire. Greil nurses his jaw. GREIL I don't like it. Young snot-nose comes in here for sport at our expense. We're on a fool's errand, but we don't have to listen to this. I don't want to hear any more about sorcery. I don't want to hear any more about spells. Valerian hands Galen a plate of food. VALERIAN You must be hungry. GALEN (nods) What's the matter with him? VALERIAN It's not just him. It's all of us. It's the equinox. They both look up at the moon. CUT TO: DRAGON COUNTRY - NIGHT The moon shines down on the far reaches of the Kingdom of Urland, coldly lighting a barren landscape filled with the skeletons of dead trees, blackened rock and bare ground. Advancing across this mournful terrain is a troop of armed men leading a blindfolded horse and tumbril. The horse is skittish. Finally, in spite of shouts and lashings, it refuses to go further. The leader, Horsrik, barks out an order: HORSRIK Close enough! Bring her out! A young woman, no more than seventeen, is brought forth from the cart. Long black hair falls down over a white tunic. Her dark eyes dart fearfully around in her pale face. She is half-carried, half dragged to the edge of a steaming crack in the ground where she is manacled to a wooden post. By lantern-light, Horsrik reads from a parchment scroll. HORSRIK Now be it known throughout the kingdom, that this maiden, having lawfully been chosen by a deed of fortune and destiny, shall hereby give up her life for the greater good of Urland. There is a low rumble; the earth shakes. Horsrik glances nervously around. He carries on by rote. HORSRIK By this act shall be satisfied the powers that dwell underground and the spirits that attend thereto. In gratitude for this sacrifice His Majesty has declared the family -- what's the name? -- He prods the girl, but she is too terrified to speak. Beneath them, the earth seems to groan. Smoke issues from the mouth of the pit. One of the nervous witnesses leans forward. RETAINER Plowman! The family Plowman! HORSRIK (rushing it) -- the family Plowman to be free of obligations, taxations, levys and imposts for a period not to exceed five years... The horse suddenly rears, and blindfold notwithstanding, gallops off, dragging the tumbril over the rocks. The men behind Horsrik break ranks and scatter. HORSRIK -- ordained and signed this day, etc., Casiodorus, in his glory the reigning king of this our realm... his seal, his mark, duly read by Chancellor Horsrik in his holy name. Now Horsrik joins the flight, chasing his men back over the murky horizon. THE GIRL She strains against her manacles, cocking her head to listen as the rumblings below subside. Presently the steam and smoke blow away and she can see the horse pawing and stamping a hundred yards distant, the wheel of the cart jammed between rocks. Summoning up a wild will to live, she squeezes her hands against the cold iron rings. No use. She spits on her wrists and twists desperately. Blood starts. One hand slips free. She looks at the horse. The animal tosses off its blindfold and looks back at her. Now she strains again and pulls her other hand free. She wipes the blood on her frock and sprints toward the horse. But she doesn't get there. The earth abruptly shifts from under her feet, tumbling her among cracked and steaming rocks. When she raises her head a huge shadow has fallen over the horse. There is a piteous whinny, then a roar. The girl's face is suddenly lit by flames. She scrambles to her feet and rushes back the other way. THE CHASE The girl hasn't taken a dozen steps when something huge hurtles forward and blocks her way. Something scaly and glittering. She whirls and stumbles off in a new direction. This time she's cut off by a monstrous claw tipped with rapier- like talons. She screams and crawls away. Another claw prevents her escape. THE CREATURE Membranous wings fold down against the night sky. Up comes the silhouette of a reptilian head swaying on a serpentine neck. There's an angry hiss. A sheet of flame envelops everything. FADE OUT: FADE IN: FOREST - DAY Tyrian kneels beside a mountain waterfall, having a drink while his men hover in the background. One of them points down the slope. MAN There. I see them. Tyrian wipes his mouth unhurriedly and strolls over to look. Far below, half hidden by trees, the little company of Urlanders winds its way through the forest. A frown creeps over Tyrian's face. TYRIAN Who's that old man? MAN Where? Which one? TYRIAN That one. That's the man from Cragganmore. Now what's he doing here? MAN Filling in for the chief, I reckon. TYRIAN (weary) What a pity. CUT TO: HODGE Hodge marches along with the rest. When he's sure no one else is looking he burrows into his garments and brings out the leather pouch containing Ulrich's ashes. Reassured that it's still with him, he tucks it away again. Galen falls into step. GALEN What have you got there? HODGE None of your business. GALEN A little gold, eh? What do you say I change it into lead? HODGE Save your jokes for someone else. Me, I don't care for braggarts. They pass Valerian, who has dropped out of line. HODGE And I don't care for frauds. GALEN I'm no fraud. HODGE Call it fool then. Upstart. Whatever pleases you. GALEN Hodge, nobody forced you to come along. HODGE Oh, I'm here of my own free will, all right. We each do the master's bidding in our own way. GALEN Well, if he told you I needed wetnursing, why don't you just turn yourself around and go back home. Hodge snorts and fusses with his pack. HODGE Home, is it? You've seen to that, haven't you? Gone to seed, I'd say... He glances over and discovers Galen missing. GALEN He walks back along the trail, looking for Valerian. Pretty soon the rest of the travelers are out of sight. He hears the sound of a splash. He turns off the trail and pushes through some shrubbery. FOREST POOL Under the oaks and hickory, a forest stream has widened into a quiet pool. A pile of clothes lies on a rock at the edge. Out in the middle, Valerian is treading water. GALEN You're too far behind us. Come on out. VALERIAN You go ahead, I'll catch up. GALEN Not a good idea to get separated. Let's go. VALERIAN Right. I'll be along. Galen leans over and splashes some water on his face. Feels good. He shucks his pack and starts to throw off his clothes. Valerian doesn't like it. VALERIAN That's all right. Don't come in. But Galen is now naked and walking into the water. He swims out toward Valerian. VALERIAN (edgy) You better get back to the group, they're probably worried. Galen keeps swimming. VALERIAN I prefer to swim alone, if you don't mind. But Galen has slipped beneath the surface; he doesn't hear. UNDERWATER Galen works his way through the murky green underwater world. Suddenly, he stops short and stares. He's only a few feet from Valerian's dangling legs. He gasps in surprise. Valerian is no boy. ON THE SURFACE Galen comes shooting to the surface, coughing and sputtering. GALEN By the gods! Valerian is pale and frightened. VALERIAN Stay away. She propels herself backward, then turns and swims for shore. ON THE SHORE Galen and Valerian have taken refuge behind separate bushes. Briskly they pull on their clothes. VALERIAN I suppose you'll tell everyone. Go ahead, I don't care. It's a relief. GALEN I'm not going to say anything. VALERIAN I don't blame you. I was stupid. Careless. A silly woman! GALEN (feeble bluff) Take it easy. I knew the moment I saw you. I've known the whole time. VALERIAN You never knew a thing. No one knew. Not since I was born. Go on, run off and tell them. It'll make a great story. GALEN Don't worry. No one's going to find out. Just tell me: why? VALERIAN Ask my father. They finish dressing in silence. Finally: GALEN The lottery! Daughters are chosen, but sons are not! VALERIAN That's right. Unless you have plenty of gold or property. GALEN What do you mean? VALERIAN If you're rich enough, your name never goes in. (bitter) My father is poor. So are a lot of fathers. He studies her. She jams a hat down over her head and, once more the young man, stalks off. THE VISION Galen walks down to the edge of the pool to retrieve his pack. As he leans over he catches sight of what appears to be a reflection in the water: Tyrian on horseback. He whips around, but no one is behind him. Riveted by the vision, he hurries along the bank to follow it. After a few paces the blurry figure dismounts, unslings a longbow, nocks an arrow and draws the string taut. GALEN (horrified) No! FOREST Galen sprints through the trees. Up ahead is Valerian, walking resolutely. GALEN No! She glances back at him and grimly keeps on walking. Galen shoots past her and on into the forest. GALEN Hodge! TRAVELERS Galen races up the trail rounds a bend and sees the Urlanders coming toward him. Hodge precedes the group with an unsteady gait. He sees Galen, raises up his arms and flops face down on the trail. A long arrow protrudes from his back. Galen kneels beside him. The uneasy company keeps its distance. Hodge struggles to speak. HODGE Galen? Can you hear me? GALEN I hear you. HODGE You know, somebody shot me, but I can still talk. There's something that has to be done. GALEN I know. HODGE Not that cockatrice. Ulrich's ashes. Here. Hodge's hand comes out from under his coat gripping the leather pouch. Galen tugs at it, but Hodge can't let go. HODGE Take it. Sorry, you'll have to peel it loose. Galen pries the sack out of Hodge's clenched fingers. Suddenly the hand comes up, grabs Galen by the hair, and pulls him near. HODGE (a croak) ...burning water... find the lake, throw it in... GALEN (holding up the pouch) What are you doing with this, Hodge? HODGE ...burning water... He dies. Galen frees himself from his grasp. GALEN Hodge, don't die. Listen to me. You're not going to die. Galen is frantic. He pulls out the amulet and wraps his hand around it. GALEN Excede, mortem! Revoca, vitam! (he shakes the body) Excede, mortem! Revoca, vitam! But Hodge has passed on, and Galen's magic has no way to reach him. Suddenly the youth cries out in pain. He drops the amulet and looks at his palm. The device has burned his flesh. Now he becomes aware of troubled Urlanders looking over his shoulder, witness to his failure. CUT TO: LAKE - DAY Wind whips the leaden wave tops on a vast rainy lake. The travelers are rowing across in an open longboat, aided by a tattered lateen sail. Valerian mans the steering oar at the stern while Galen broods in the bow. He feels like an imposter in their eyes. FJORD The boat pulls into a long narrow waterway with granite cliffs on either side. Moving through swirls of fog, they beach the boat and step out onto a craggy shore. Greil leans over and kisses a rock. GREIL Urland! CUT TO: DRAGON COUNTRY - DAY The travelers descend a mountain pass and emerge through a wrack of cloud into a gray and cheerless region. Fire- blackened trees dot the barren landscape. As they reach the flatlands, the Urlanders instinctively pick up the pace. Galen slows to inspect the weird surroundings. Valerian trots past him. VALERIAN Come on. Don't dawdle here. Galen falls into step with her. GALEN The whole kingdom like this? VALERIAN No. We're near the lair. Keep moving. Galen looks around with new interest. GALEN Where? VALERIAN Over there. Doesn't matter. We're in no danger if we just pass through quickly. Galen stops. High on the slope beside them is a gaping fissure. GALEN I see it. Let's have a look. VALERIAN No! But Galen is already toiling up the incline. VALERIAN Greil! Malkin! Help! The travelers turn to see what's the matter. THE LAIR Galen approaches the lair, pausing beside a wooden post with iron manacles dangling from it. He fingers them thoughtfully. Malkin, Greil and Valerian rush up behind him, their faces drawn with worry. GREIL Look, you don't have to do this. We know you're a fine young magician. None better. There's no need to prove it to us. GALEN Are there other entrances? VALERIAN No. One's enough. GREIL Come on. The road's this way. We'll tell everybody how close you got. GALEN (coolly) No smoke. How do you know it's in there? GREIL Don't be a fool. Come away now and live to tell about it. Instead, Galen starts into the crack. Greil and Malkin hasten away, but Valerian lingers, watching in mounting frustration as Galen probes further and further into the lair. She picks up a fistful of stones and throws them at him. VALERIAN Go ahead! You're going to die! What a fine trick that will be! But Galen is lost in the gloom. She flees. UNDERGROUND Galen puts his hand on the rugged wall: the rocks are hot to the touch. Something glinting on the floor catches Galen's eye: an irridescent disk, a dragon scale. It flashes the colors of the rainbow as Galen examines it. All at once the ground shudders; chunks of rock fall from the ceiling. A pall of smoke billows up from the depths. OUTSIDE Galen staggers out of the fissure coughing and gagging in a swirl of smoke. There is no sign of the Urlanders. He throws down his pack, climbs onto a huge boulder and surveys the massive cliffs rising behind the lair. He grasps the amulet and closes his eyes. GALEN Now, great mountain, hear my command: Terrae lapsus consignet latibulum draconis! Evanescat latibulum draconis! LANDSLIDE With a thunderous splitting sound, the entire top of the cliff pitches forward and topples onto the lower half of the mountain, sweeping tons of debris into the air. Boulders the size of houses bound down the mountain toward the magician. Eyes wide with awe, he turns and runs for his life. Even as he careens down the slope, chunks of rock rumble past. One catches him at the knee and sends him flying. He covers his head and joins the landslide. Finally the dust lifts and he finds himself in a gully face to face with the cowering Urlanders. They look with real fear at the man who just conjured up the Apocalypse. Tattered and torn, covered with dirt, Galen climbs up out of the shelter for a look at his handiwork. LANDSCAPE The territory has been drastically transformed: the dragon's lair is now buried beneath hundreds of tons of broken granite. The Urlanders look upon the new landscape with stupefaction. Galen grins a triumphant split-lip grin that fails to win them over. Presently they back away and run off down the trail, Valerian in their midst. Galen's grin fades. CUT TO: VILLAGE - DAY The Village of Swanscombe is little more than a rough and ready collection of thatched huts and mud-daubed outbuildings surrounded by cultivated fields. Dogs sleep in open door- ways; chickens peck around the communal well -- but there are no people in evidence as Valerian and her company troop into town. VALERIAN She trots across the square and enters a deserted blacksmith shop. VALERIAN Father? Hello? She goes over to the forge. Hot coals are burning. She becomes aware of a sound -- voices -- chanting. SQUARE She walks across the square toward the voices. She is joined by Greil, Malkin and the other travelers, all of them puzzled by the desolation. As they approach the grange hall the voices grow louder. They seem to be singing. The main doors open briefly and three villagers scamper out, dripping wet and wrapped in white muslin. Valerian and her companions look at each other in astonishment. IN THE GRANGE HALL In a wooden cistern in the middle of the hall a woman is being held under water. After a few moments she is pulled to the surface by a tall red-haired man with long bony fingers: Brother Jacopus Januensis, a Carthusian monk. There's a wooden cross on his chest and a mad look in his eye. Gathered around him are the missing villagers, every man woman and child, here to be baptised and sing a few newly-learned hymns in praise of Our Lord Jesus Christ. BROTHER JACOPUS Now are you cleansed of your sins! Now are you born again, purified in spirit, into the fellowship of Jesus Christ! The travelers enter and mingle with the congregation. Valerian scans the crowd until she locates her father, Simon, a balding sturdy journeyman. He's overjoyed at her return and gives her a hearty embrace. SIMON Welcome back, my son. VALERIAN Father, what are you doing? Have you all lost your minds? SIMON Some have. He points to the monk, who is dunking a screaming infant and carrying on about the Bishop of Rome. SIMON It's this monk. He can read and write, and talk too, I'm afraid. VALERIAN And they listen? SIMON Shh! They think this a holy place, a tabernacle. VALERIAN This is the granary. What kind of welcome is this? I've got news of the sorcerer and news of the dragon. SIMON You were brave to go, you and your friends. But nobody cares. Listen -- he knows what they want to hear. MONK Brother Jacopus strides back and forth before the assembly in an inspired state. BROTHER JACOPUS The man who walks with Christ is not a man to fear a dragon: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil! You say you are preyed upon by a foul beast. Yes, but what is the nature of this beast? It comes to you on bat's wings and clawed feet, does it not? It breathes fire, does it not? And it lives under ground. This is no dragon. This is Lucifer! VOICE Whoever it is, he's dead. This is Galen, who has just stepped into the hall, tattered, bedraggled and triumphant. BROTHER JACOPUS Nay, brother! It is not as easy as that. Allegiance to Christ, to be sure, but also prayer and confession. These are the arms by which Satan may be put down. GALEN You're talking about superstition, friend. None of that has anything to do with what I, Galen, have already achieved. He marches to the center of the gathering. SIMON (to Valerian) You brought this stranger? VALERIAN Ulrich's apprentice. He's a braggart, but it doesn't matter. GALEN People of Urland! Send a messenger to the king. Vermithrax is dead. Crushed by the power of the moon and the stars! Laid low by ancient wisdom. Dropped into the Abyss by mystical practice. BROTHER JACOPUS Spoken like a pagan. Every word as reprobate as it is false! (holding up his cross) Solum in hoc signo vinces! GALEN Nihil plus mysterium! He gestures boldly and a fireball crackles at the monk's feet. The holy man scurries back. A hush falls upon the congregation. CUT TO: DRAGON COUNTRY - DAY A procession of curious villagers winds its way into the badlands. They gather on a promontory overlooking the dragon's lair. They stand there for a long time, a chill wind whipping their garments, trying to understand what's happened. The monk is mightily displeased. BROTHER JACOPUS Praise God! Blessed is he that is humble before the Lord! VALERIAN Your god had nothing to do with it. Indeed, Galen's act is already the stuff of legend: MALKIN We saw it with our own eyes. He flew to the mountain top. He was a bird. He brought forth lightning. I saw it. Some of the younger villagers scamper forward to the spot where the cave had its opening. With yells and whoops they beat the ground with clubs. In the crowd Simon begins to smile, then to laugh. Soon he leads the villagers in a tumultuous cheer. Brother Jacopus and some of his converts drop to their knees and pray. CUT TO: CELEBRATION The inhabitants of Swanscombe have decked out the town square and are making a night of it. By torchlight they dance merrily to jigs and reels provided by the local fiddlers. Ale flows freely from oak casks. VALERIAN'S HOUSE Valerian is kneeling before a trunk full of women's clothing. She pulls out a long simple frock, goes to a crude mirror, and holds it up against her body to gauge the effect. Her father comes up behind her. He is angry and frightened. SIMON Put that away. What if you were seen? VALERIAN I'm going to be seen. I want to be seen. Tonight the world finds out that you never had a son. SIMON No, you mustn't do that. It's too soon. We've got to think about this, we've got to make a plan. VALERIAN Father: the danger is over. He sits on the bed and puts his head in his hands. SIMON I know. What am I going to say to my friends who still mourn for their lost girls. VALERIAN You'll say you did what you had to. This is a time for celebration -- and forgiveness. He looks up at her, trying to imagine what it's going to be like having a daughter. CELEBRATION Galen is surrounded by a crowd of wide-eyed kids and not a few adults, entertaining them by pulling duck's eggs out of their ears and causing coins to disappear. Presently he feels the attention of his audience shift away to someone standing behind him. He turns to find a shy but determined Valerian sweetly decked out in her blue frock. A buzz goes through the crowd. Valerian blushes and wavers: she seems ready to bolt for home. But Galen takes her by the hand, and with conspicuous politesse leads her to the dance. DANCE It's forward, back and around sixth-century style: the young sorcerer can't take his eyes off his partner. But she's too shy to return his gaze. GALEN Looks like you've been up to a little sorcery yourself. Valerian doesn't know what to say. GALEN Or is it witchcraft? She still doesn't reply. It's all she can do to keep on dancing. GALEN What's the matter? A real woman never stops talking. VALERIAN I think it was much easier being a boy. SIMON & GREIL They stand on the sidelines, watching the young couple step to the music. SIMON The damnedest thing is, she was twice the man of anyone else in the village. Now she's twice the woman. GREIL (grim) Would that I had been as clever as her father. SIMON Come now, Greil. Don't begrudge a life spared. GREIL I begrudge nothing. But I wonder at what we have seen and how it was done. SIMON You were there. GREIL I saw what I saw. But this jack-anapes was barely ready to carry his master's chamberpot. Isn't it strange that at the very moment the beast is put down we should have a holy man here in the village? SIMON You don't believe that superstitious Christian rot, do you? GREIL (defensive) It is said God works his wonders in mysterious ways. CELEBRATION While the proud Simon dances in the background with his daughter, a group of tipsy villagers clusters around Galen, belching forth a drinking song. The young magician raises his own mug and joins in on the chorus. Abruptly the music stops. The singing dies away. The ensuing silence is broken by the sound of galloping hooves. Presently three horsemen appear at the end of town: Tyrian and his henchmen. They guide their horses forward into the midst of the merry-makers. Tyrian dismounts and looks around in his usual friendly way. TYRIAN A celebration! Don't stop on my account. You -- musicians, more music! The musicians leave their instruments in their laps. Tyrian draws himself a measure of ale and raises it above his head. TYRIAN A toast! To the deed of the day! You see, good news travels fast. The King himself has already heard it. And like yourselves, tonight he's overcome with joy. MALKIN What would you have of us then? TYRIAN Not a thing. It's this one. (he gestures toward Galen) The King would meet our new benefactor and offer his gratitude to the man who succeeded where so many have failed. GALEN (sobering up) What sort of gratitude? A knife in the belly? An arrow in the back? Tyrian's smile freezes on his face. He steps in front of Galen, towering over him. TYRIAN My young friend, I'd as soon dispatch you as I did the others, and for the same reason. But his Majesty would like a cozy chat, and commands otherwise. VALERIAN Don't go, Galen. Cast a spell and turn them into toads. It should be easy; that's what they are. Tyrian regards her coolly, taking in her change of costume and its meaning. TYRIAN Well, well: still plenty of cheek under those skirts, it seems. Having buried the dragon under a mountain, Galen decides he's not worried about an appearance at court. He smiles at Valerian. GALEN Don't worry. I'll be back. CUT TO: RIDERS Three horses gallop through the moors and fens of central Urland. Galen is tucked up behind Tyrian. On the distant horizon, the battlements of the King's castle glow in the slanting light of a new day. CUT TO: THRONE ROOM - DAY Within the castle is a great hall with shafts of daylight poking in through narrow windows set high in the walls. In the middle of the room stands a carved oak throne. There is Casiodorus Rex, King of Urland, a bearded man in his fifties, as spare and somber as the room in which he sits. He is flanked by a few servants, assorted courtiers and Tyrian. Standing before them all is Galen, looking unhappy. He pours a pitcher full of water into a small glazed goblet. GALEN One of the best things about the water here in Urland is that there's so much of it -- look at that! Water continues to pour into the goblet without overflowing. Galen takes a sip. GALEN Mmm. Good. But not cold enough. Perhaps I could borrow a scarf from his Majesty. The King makes no sign. Galen approaches stiffly, takes a scarf and retreats. GALEN I cover the goblet, so... remove, so... and behold: winter in a mug! And he's done it: he turns the goblet over and a small chunk of ice hits the floor. The royal reaction is equally frosty. Galen is bombing, and he knows it. GALEN All right. How many of you have ever seen a table fly? He mutters an incantation. In the audience, Tyrian notes that Galen has his hand wrapped around the amulet. There is a loud clatter as the heavy oak table before the throne begins to jitter and buck. As the wine spills and plates go flying, the King wearily raises a hand. KING Enough! That's fine. GALEN Wait, it'll rise now. KING Don't bother. Not necessary. The table cracks in half and dumps a mess of fruit and crockery at the onlookers' feet. KING Tell me: the landslide -- it was accomplished this same way? GALEN Yes. KING I see. And having rendered such unique service to our kingdom, what would you claim as a reward? GALEN Please -- no payment. I have always found magical practice to be its own reward. I seek only some yet greater challenge. This handsome sentiment doesn't go over any better than his tricks. KING Did you ever hear of King Gaiseric? Of course not, you weren't even born. He was my brother, a great King and a valiant man-at-arms. When he ascended to the throne, the dragon was unbridled. No one knew where it might strike next. So he brought forth his broadsword and his spear, assembled a company of his best fighters and went out to do battle. (pause) He was never seen again. But his attack provoked the most terrible reprisals: whole villages incinerated, entire crops burned. Death, famine, horrible. The King grimaces as the memories come flooding back. KING (quietly) How did you arrogate to yourself the role of savior? GALEN I was invited. KING Not by me. Did you ever consider the consequences of failure? GALEN What failure? What's the matter with you people? You want the dragon back? KING Then the beast is dead? GALEN Yes, of course. Dead. KING We shall see. CUT TO: DUNGEON Two guards thrust Galen into a narrow cell and slam the barred door shut. The young sorcerer waits until they're safely out of sight, then takes out his amulet. He ponders it for a doubtful moment. Suddenly a gloved hand darts in and whips it off his neck and out through the bars. TYRIAN Thank you. He makes an ironic salute and leaves. Galen sits down heavily and stares at the stone walls. CORRIDOR Unseen by Galen, a figure clad in silk and lace skitters down a murky dungeon hallway and peers around a corner. Stealing a look at Galen is the Princess Elspeth, a fey beauty in her early twenties. After a moment, spooked by some imagined noise, she flits away. CUT TO: DRAGON COUNTRY - DAY Dark clouds slide across a pale sun, throwing the ruined land below into shadow. Soon fat droplets of rain are splattering on the rocks above the dragon's lair. With each tiny splash there is a sizzle and a puff of steam. These rocks are hot! CUT TO: DUNGEON Outside the barred window, a steady rain is falling. Inside, Galen uses a chunk of limestone to inscribe a pentagram on the floor of his cell. He marks runic signs on the window sill and lintel. Then, positioning himself in the center of the mystic symbol, he raises his hands and spreads his fingers. GALEN (authoritative) Cubiculum gravis aperat! There's a long moment when nothing happens. A very long moment. Finally, a thoroughly frustrated Galen leaps to the window and rattles the bars. GALEN Open up, dammit! Fenestra gravis aperat! Asser gravis aperat! Divinitus! VOICE Salve, magistrum iuvenilum. Startled, Galen whirls around to find Elspeth standing outside his cell. She hands some food and blankets through the bars. ELSPETH I've studied Latin. Greek, too. Me appelo Elspeth, filia regis. Galen looks her over. He's never seen anyone so angelic. GALEN How do you do. ELSPETH Please don't think ill of us. My father is a wonderful man, a wise man. The lottery was his idea. GALEN I see. ELSPETH You don't understand. From the moment it began, the dragon was tame. The kingdom prospered. GALEN And only a few had to be sacrificed. ELSPETH Yes, that's true. Isn't it better that a few should die that many might live? GALEN Depends on who does the dying. ELSPETH Oh, but we all take our chances. My father is a just man. My name is entered on the lists, along with every other young -- GALEN Virgin? ELSPETH Maiden. GALEN If you say so. ELSPETH What do you mean? GALEN (sighs) Nothing. ELSPETH I've participated in every drawing since I came of age. GALEN Maybe. ELSPETH It's true. You don't believe me. You think I'm lying. Well I'm not. GALEN I'm sorry. I heard a rumor. Families with money, that sort of thing. ELSPETH Don't listen to rumors. They're lies. I have to go now. GALEN Wait -- how long do I have to stay in here? ELSPETH Until we know. Not long. Goodbye. Vale. Dormi bene. She slips away down the corridor. LIBRARY King Casiodorus and Tyrian are huddled over a table piled high with manuscripts and papers. Tyrian clears a spot and sets out a stack of lead bars. KING That's enough. Let's not be greedy here. The King picks up Galen's amulet, and holds it over the bars in his clenched fist. KING Now then: I, Casiodorus Rex do hereby command thou base metal to change thy essence and become gold. There is a rustle of skirts and Elspeth appears behind him. ELSPETH Father? KING Not now. Tyrian, remove all but one bar. We'll try it one at a time. ELSPETH Father: did you know that some families have paid bribes to stay out of the lottery? The King and Tyrian glance up at her. KING Nonsense. By the power of this amulet, justly wielded by my hand in accordance with the laws of Urland, now lead be thou gold. The lead remains unchanged, but the King gives out a cry and drops the amulet. KING I'm burned! What devilish thing is this? ELSPETH Have you ever kept my name off the lottery list? KING That'll be all, Tyrian. You may withdraw. Tyrian bows and exits. The King uses his sceptre to pick up the amulet and chain. He conceals it in a hollowed-out book and places the volume on a shelf among many others. KING Now, my dear, what's troubling you? ELSPETH Answer my question: am I not exposed to the same risk as every other man's daughter? The King paces over to the window and stares out. The rain has stopped. ELSPETH Well? KING (finally) Your father loves you very much. Elspeth sways in dismay. ELSPETH (a wail) It's true! What have you done to me!? KING Who fills your head with such ideas? At that moment a tremor passes through the room. King and daughter look at each other in alarm. DUNGEON The same tremor shakes the bars in Galen's cell. Puzzled, he rolls off his straw palette and gets to his feet. The tremor dies away. Suddenly a violent shaking hits the cell, bouncing Galen off the walls. CUT TO: VILLAGE SQUARE Swanscombe is gripped by the same earthquake. Dodging panicky barnyard animals, Valerian and her father join other frightened villagers in the center of town. CUT TO: DRAGON COUNTRY Above the dragon's lair, boulders are shifting and grinding together. Massive chunks of stone break loose and tumble down the incline. CUT TO: GALEN The shaking has stopped. Rock dust filters down from the ceiling. Galen picks himself up and stares: the door to his cell is off its hinges and is sagging open. He darts out. CORRIDOR Galen dashes along the hallway, rounds a corner and stops. At the other end of the passage is Tyrian. TYRIAN You little meddler! It's alive! He draws his sword and advances. Galen warily retreats. Tyrian breaks into a run. Galen turns and sprints away. COURTYARD Unruly horses, terrified by the quake, rush blindly around the courtyard. Hostlers try vainly to catch them. Tyrian leans down from an upstairs window. TYRIAN Close the main gate! Quick! The men below scramble for the gates. Galen bursts out of hiding, sees the untended horses, and swings aboard as one goes past. A cry goes up from the guards. TYRIAN There! Stop him! Galen rides like mad for the exit, but he's a half-second late: the doors boom shut in his face. He wheels the horse around. The King's men are coming toward him with pikes. Digging his heels into the horse's sides, he urges the animal back across the courtyard, up the steps and right into the building! THRONE ROOM Galen gallops into the empty chamber, knocking over the throne and vaulting a table. Hot on his heels are armed soldiers. He kicks the horse again and shoots under an archway. KITCHEN The kitchen is already in chaos from the earthquake when Galen charges in on his wild steed. Food, utensils and cooks go flying. He reins in, ducks his head, and squeezes the horse out into a narrow hallway. HALLWAY He clatters down the passageway. But here comes a contingent of footmen from the opposite direction. Galen rides them into the walls! STAIRS The horse scrabbles up the stairs, Galen tucked low against its neck. On the upper landing he comes face to face with Tyrian and more soldiers. TYRIAN Get him! Stab the horse! Galen jerks the animal around and plunges back down the stairs. LIBRARY Whinnying and blowing the horse bursts in, a wild-eyed Galen still in the saddle. He finds himself confronting the King and his daughter. Casiodorus grabs Elspeth and retreats into a corner. KING Tyrian! Tyrian! Tyrian sweeps in with his men. The doors slam shut. KING So much for your magic! So much for your sorcery! Galen is trapped. Just as Tyrian reaches for the horse's reins, the animal rears up, rolling its eyes. At that moment the floor heaves and cracks in a new series of shocks. The men at arms go down like ten pins. Tyrian reels back, dodging stone blocks loosened from the ceiling. As the shaking continues, a weakened section of wall gives way. Galen sees daylight! Without even waiting for the quake to cease, he prods the horse across the room and through the wall to freedom. CUT TO: DRAGON COUNTRY - DAY The unnerved citizens of Swanscombe gather on the promontory overlooking Galen's landslide. Every few seconds there is a new shudder and more rocks pour down the long slope. Valerian stands trembling with her father. Presently Brother Jacopus elbows his way forward. BROTHER JACOPUS Listen to me, my brethren. The moment of our fear is the moment of our triumph. This is a sign from God. Follow me, and our faith will send this creature straight to hell. Holding a cross before him, he starts up the slope. No one follows. They haven't been Christians all that long. One or two near Valerian get down on their knees and pray silently. Greil looks things over. GREIL You call yourselves Christians? He strides after the monk. But he's the only one. NEAR THE LAIR The determined monk has arrived at the epicenter. His sandals are smoking on the hot gravel. Sweat shines on his face and neck. BROTHER JACOPUS The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Thou makest me to lie down in green pastures. Thy rod and staff they comfort me... Greil toils up the slope a hundred yards back. He's crossing himself, but he's carrying a sickle. VERMITHRAX There is a thunderous noise. Part of the mountain is tossed into the air. Up from the depths comes a huge shining wing. Then a neck uncoils and a head appears. It tips down toward the tiny human. BROTHER JACOPUS (firm) ...for Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever -- amen. At the base of the slope the villagers scatter. Greil wavers. BROTHER JACOPUS Unclean beast, get thee down! Be thou consumed by the fires that made you! The dragon's head sways back and forth, then belches out a waterfall of flame. It engulfs Jacopus and sends him to a better world, if there is one. CUT TO: HILL ROAD - NIGHT Horse and rider race across a night landscape under brooding clouds. Up ahead, the sky glows with an angry red light. At the crest of a hill Galen reins in and looks down across a long valley. There, miles away, is the village of Swanscombe. Many buildings are ablaze. As he watches in horror, fires spring up in the fields and trees. Intermittently he can see the silhouette of the dragon as it spreads destruction. Finally the creature swoops up and away. Galen stares skyward, losing sight of it in the clouds. For a moment, silence. Then, with a thunderous rush of air that almost blows him from the saddle, the dragon reappears and hurtles a few feet over his head! It is gone in an instant. CUT TO: VILLAGE - NIGHT Half the buildings in the town are on fire. Desperate villagers dash here and there, herding children and animals to safety, trying to save their household goods. Galen walks woodenly into the confusion, leading his horse, taking in the scope of the disaster. He comes upon a line of men who have formed a bucket brigade. He attempts to join up. As soon as he is recognized, he is shouldered roughly aside. MAN Get away, you little bastard. We've had enough help from you. Galen staggers back, reaching for his horse. The animal shies and trots off. A middle-aged woman appears in front of him, her face contorted with rage. She swings a flaming broom and catches him on the back of the head. Galen reels away. WOMAN This is your doing! Galen looks up and sees a couple of burlies moving his way with boards in their hands. BURLIES Get him! He's back! Before they can get too close, Galen runs down an alley and bumps smack into a glassy-eyed, haunted man. It is Greil. GALEN Greil -- help! GREIL May the Lord forgive you for what you have done. He pushes past. Galen ducks behind a smoldering building. VALERIAN'S HOUSE The roof has burned off, but at least the walls are standing. Valerian is wrestling charred timbers out of the center of the room. She is covered with soot. There is a hammering on the door and Galen barges in. He slams the door behind him and puts his back against it. GALEN It's me. Are you hurt? VALERIAN Where have you been? Doesn't matter -- listen: Quick! Make it rain. That'll put the fire out. GALEN I can't. VALERIAN Then get the animals back. They're all running loose. There's people been hurt. Stop their pain. You can cure them. And we'll need food... GALEN I can't do it. VALERIAN (this stops her) What? Why not? Galen's hand moves up to where the amulet used to hang. GALEN I just can't. VALERIAN But you're a sorcerer. GALEN I'm no sorcerer. Whatever power I might have had, it's gone. VALERIAN It can't be! GALEN I know: I'm an imposter. A fraud. A fake. I'm sorry... For a moment, Valerian is too stunned to speak. Then her face colors. VALERIAN You're sorry?! Listen to that! The damn thing is loose, we're all on fire and you're sorry! Galen sinks to the floor and sits in the ashes. VALERIAN You didn't have the faintest idea what you were doing, did you? You're a fool -- and I'm a bigger one for bringing you here. She snatches up a pitchfork and glowers at him. VALERIAN I don't want you in this house. Get out. But Galen still sits there like a puppet with its strings cut, every dream of glory utterly crushed. This piteous sight touches Valerian's heart. Her gaze softens. She slowly lowers the pitchfork. FADE OUT: FADE IN: TOWN SQUARE - DAY A knot of villagers lead Tyrian and his henchmen across the square directly to the blacksmith's shop. The King's men dismount and pound on the door. It swings open. Valerian is standing there. TYRIAN Where is he? VALERIAN Not here. I can't help you. A cry goes up from the villagers. They know damn well he's in there. VALERIAN'S HOUSE Tyrian pushes Valerian aside and steps into the room. Aided by some townfolk, his men proceed to ransack the premises, overturning barrels, sticking their swords through flour sacks, poking through the tumbledown thatch. Valerian's eye falls on Malkin, who has involved himself in the search. VALERIAN You too? MALKIN (returning her look) Damn right. Finding nothing, the group pushes into the metal shop, where Simon is hammering an iron wheel rim back into shape on an enormous anvil. He lays down his tools and grimly watches the men go through, overturning benches and tables. Tyrian props a leg up on the anvil and addresses himself to Simon. TYRIAN As the proud new father of an eligible daughter who was some-how overlooked all these years, it may interest you to know that the King has called for a new lottery. SIMON But it's months til the solstice. TYRIAN In view of what's happened, we all know what's required. SIMON I've never taken part in your cursed lottery, and I'll have nothing to do with it now. TYRIAN You were very clever. But she'll take part, like all the rest. No exceptions. The search party has exhausted the room's hiding places. HENCHMAN Nothing. If he was here, he's gone now. Tyrian nods and leads the way out. Simon catches up and pulls Tyrian aside at the door. SIMON All right. I know what you want. How much? TYRIAN Are you offering me a bribe? SIMON Yes. TYRIAN Don't waste your time. (pause) You could never afford it. He spins on his heel and joins his men as they ride out of town. Valerian and Simon watch them go. When the riders are out of sight, they return to the shop. With a couple of stout poles, they strain to lift the anvil off its base. Finally it topples over. Valerian slides the base aside, revealing a trap door. She raises it and a cramped Galen unfolds himself from the space below. On his face is a curious look of determination. GALEN Smith -- have you ever forged a weapon? WEAPONS Simon is going through a cabinet, tossing out hoes, rakes, sickles, scythes, plow blades, and a knife or two. Galen examines them doubtfully. Now Simon produces an armload of swords. Galen is impressed; he looks them over carefully, testing and rejecting them in turn. GALEN These are your sharpest? Simon plucks up one of the swords, carries it to the center of the room. He lays a horseshoe on the anvil. He brings the sword down -- whack! -- and cuts the horseshoe in half. SIMON Even Tyrian carries one of these. Galen hefts it dubiously. GALEN It's sharp -- but it's not sharp enough. Valerian has been watching all this with growing concern. VALERIAN Not sharp enough for what? GALEN For what I'm going to do with it. VALERIAN Nothing's that sharp. Simon gnaws his lip. Reluctantly, he brings a long box from the bottom of the cabinet. He opens it. Lying on a bed of silk is an exquisite two-handed broadsword. The flat blade gleams like a mirror. Galen reaches in and lifts it out. SIMON The best I ever made. Valerian is as awed as Galen. VALERIAN It's beautiful. Galen brings up a finger to test the edge. Simon grabs his hand away. SIMON Don't do that! (he looks at Valerian) Girl-child, when you were born I knew I had to do something, so I set about the task of fashioning an extraordinary weapon: I had the skill to make it -- (bleak pause) -- but not the nerve to use it. She looks at him with affection. Leaning forward, she plants a kiss on his bald pate. VALERIAN I'm thankful for that. (to Galen) No man should choose a senseless death. CUT TO: STREAM - DAY Galen, Valerian and Simon tramp through a glade to a mossy bank. There a wide stream flows lazily under a canopy of trees. VALERIAN If it's me you're worried about, don't. So my name has been entered, what of it? There are hundreds of girls. My name just won't be drawn. I know it won't. Galen walks out into the shallows and pushes the sword-tip into the sandy bottom, angled so that the edge splits the current. GALEN Valerian, this isn't just for your sake. He walks back to shore. All three watch the sword to see what will happen. SWORD Big flat oak leaves are gliding along the current. Very slowly, they go by the sword, some of them very close. Finally, one of them floats against the leading edge of the blade and without a ripple is cleft in two. Simon gives Galen a significant look. VALERIAN I don't care. It doesn't matter. What you want to kill isn't flesh and blood. SIMON Oh, it'll bleed, all right. VALERIAN How do you know? No one's so much as even scratched it. They look to Galen. The apprentice's face is full of doubt. GALEN I'll need the amulet. CUT TO: KING'S CASTLE - NIGHT Carrying torches to light their way, families -- some with maiden daughters -- gather from all over the country in the courtyard of the King's castle. Simon is there with Valerian, and so is Galen, disguised in rough farm clothes and a wide- brimmed hat. Like many others, he carries a stick topped with a bleached skull -- to all appearances, just another participant in this weird pagan ritual. A barrel decorated with flames and dragon's wings sits on a raised dais in front of the main entrance. Horsrik, the King's herald, supervises preparations for the lottery. Armed guards appear carrying a sealed chest. Horsrik breaks the seal and the guards pour the contents -- hundreds of wooden tiles, each bearing the name of a potential sacrifice -- into the barrel. Trumpets blare and drums roll and the royal party strolls onstage: the King, his daughter, courtiers and Tyrian. Valerian nudges Galen. VALERIAN (pointing) Look at her. The Princess. GALEN I know. We've met. Valerian gives Galen a sharp look. Horsrik unrolls a parchment. HORSRIK (reading) People of Urland: whereas the peace of the kingdom has been disrupted by the mischief of an interloper; and whereas this interloper being fled; now therefore, his majesty the King hereby proclaims the sum of thirty ducats to be paid to anyone producing the miscreant Galen Bradwardyn, fraud enchanter, to our satisfaction. Galen pulls his hat low over his eyes. As the moment for the drawing approaches, Valerian becomes more and more uneasy. She pushes forward through the crowd until she's just below the barrel. She eyes the people around her. Some of them seem equally worried, others -- the better dressed and better fed -- are smug and complacent. The King and his retinue are serene. A chant goes up from the crowd: CROWD Stir the tiles! Stir the tiles! Horsrik picks up a wooden staff surmounted by a carved dragon's head and stirs up the names. This done, a new chant goes up: CROWD Bare the arm! Bare the arm! At a signal, a guard comes forward and cuts the sleeve from Horsrik's right arm. He holds it high. The crowd surges forward. The atmosphere is full of dread and excitement. Valerian looking pale and determined, is jostled and pushed to the edge of the platform. CROWD Draw the name! Draw the name! The moment has come. Down goes Horsrik's arm and up it comes, holding one little wooden square, one young woman's fate. An expectant hush falls over the mob. The virgins of Urland tremble and wait. HORSRIK Now, my countrymen, hear me: behold, for I am chosen. I shall die that many may live. I shall lay down my life for family and fellows. I shall go to my grave for the love of our King and his wise policy. And my name is -- He looks down at the tile to read the name, but no sound comes to his lips. He looks back at the crowd, a cold sweat breaking over his face. He swallows, but still can't bring himself to speak. At his feet, Valerian is holding her breath. A new chant goes up. CROWD The name! The name! By now Horsrik is trembling. He stares down at the tile, his mouth set in a grim line. The King is getting annoyed. He gestures and the crowd falls silent. KING Read the name. HORSRIK (mastering himself) The name is: Princess Elspeth Ulfilas, filia regis. There is a moment of profound shock. Then a low murmur of wonder moves through the crowd. Galen looks at Valerian; she sags with relief. The King turns to his daughter. She shows nothing. He rises from his chair, comes forward and snatches the tile from Horsrik. KING That's not the name. It's been misread. Valerian will not stand for such hypocrisy. VALERIAN There's no mistake! The name's been chosen -- let it stand! KING No, the good Horsrik has misspoke himself. (he looks at the tile) In fairness to this individual, whose name I can't make out, we'll destroy this tile. He quickly tosses the wood chip into a brazier at his elbow. Led by Valerian, the crowd cries out in protest. VALERIAN No! What better name than your own kin? At last we see justice done! KING Silence! We will have a new choosing. I will draw the name myself. He reaches into the barrel and extracts another tile. He looks at it and his eyes widen. Betrayed, he swivels to face his daughter. The din of the crowd reaches a crescendo. CROWD Let it stand! Let it stand! Elspeth takes the tile from her father's nerveless fingers, looks at it with satisfaction and holds it aloft. ELSPETH The name is as you heard it and as Horsrik read it: Elspeth. The King moils through the tiles, finding his daughter's name again and again. KING The lottery is invalid. Another and another. What treachery is this? Valerian, chanting with the rest, falls silent. She looks at Elspeth with sudden interest and respect, then awe. ELSPETH Hear me, good people! It is true, that my name appears on many of the lots. This does not falsify the drawing, it certifies it! I have learned that my name has been kept from jeopardy in all the drawings in the past. So I have put my name among the rest many times -- once for each risk that, over the years, you took and I did not. The crowd is dumbfounded. Gradually voices erupt in a cacophony of shouts, whistles and excited conversation. Galen sees his chance: there's an unguarded door near the stable. He drifts toward it and slips inside. THRONE ROOM