The Ultimate Dragon Warrior Read online

  “No prize money?” blurted out Stripes, spraying bits of food from his mouth. “Even those tight-fisted fellows at the Worldwide Wildlife Wrestling Foundation offer prize money to the winner.”

  “We realize that you are used to fighting in more conventional competitions, Mr. Stripes. Like your father before you, you have earned a place here, but as you have seen, we live in isolation on this island,” said Empress Me. “We have no need for money.”

  Stripes grabbed another handful of nuts. “Suppose I’d better make the most of the free grub then, hadn’t I?”

  Everyone else happily ate and drank while speculating about the upcoming event and telling tales of past triumphs. Then Empress Me stood, clapped her hands, and addressed the whole table.

  “It now falls to us to explain how the trials will work,” she said. “There will be three trials in total, over as many days. The first will reveal the warrior with the greatest fighting skills, the second will show the warrior with the greatest endurance. Only the winners of these two trials will go through to the final trial and have a chance to be crowned the Ultimate Dragon Warrior.”

  A buzz of excited chatter spread around the table.

  “So we fight first?” said Jet. “Brilliant!”

  “I could take on all of you blindfolded,” boasted Stripes.

  “The fighting trial consists of three knock-out rounds,” continued Empress Me. “You will all be assigned an opponent in Round One. The four winners of Round One will go through to Round Two. The two winners of the second round will fight in the final.”

  “Great. Knocking out is what I do best,” said Stripes.

  “You are not in one of your caged fights now,” said Empress Me. “There is no need to knock anyone out. The victor must land three strikes on his opponent. They needn’t be hard, for the Ultimate Dragon Warrior will be as merciful as he is strong and agile. We will now draw your names from this bowl, to see who will fight who in Round One.” A lemur came forward, holding up a beautifully carved wooden bowl. Empress Me reached into the bowl and pulled out two pieces of paper. “Chuck will fight Lay-Z,” she announced.

  “If he ever wakes up,” said Donnie.

  The others turned to look at the sloth. He was still fast asleep, although the leaves that had been placed in his bowl had mysteriously disappeared.

  Empress Me pulled out two more bits of paper. “Turbold will fight Donnie,” she proclaimed.

  “Easy!” said Turbold.

  “We’ll see,” said Donnie. “I’m packing a few surprises in here.” He tapped his backpack confidently.

  “We are afraid not, Donnie,” said Empress Me. “No weaponry of any kind is allowed in these fights. That goes for everyone. No nunchucks, swords, or gadgets. The Ultimate Dragon Warrior will rely on his own wit and fighting skills.”

  “Let’s see how you fare without your famous gadgets,” said Turbold, with a defiant grin at Donnie.

  Empress Me plucked out the next two names. “Stripes will fight Plato,” she said.

  Stripes snorted. “You’ll be picking up the bill once I’ve finished with you,” he said. “Picking it up off the floor, that is.”

  “Hold on,” said Jet. “That means I’m fighting Bruce.”

  “Correct,” said Empress Me.

  “But … we’re always on the same team,” said Bruce.

  “Not this time,” said Empress Me. “Now, it grows late. Our subjects will show you to your sleeping quarters. We lemurs are tree-dwellers like Turbold and Lay-Z, but there is a shelter for Plato, a den for Stripes, and a burrow for the Clan of the Scorpion. We hope you all get a good night’s sleep, for you will need your energy tomorrow.”

  The next morning, everyone enjoyed a lavish breakfast. Then the contestants were led to another clearing at the foot of the great volcano, where they could see the red smoke drifting up into the blue sky.

  A fighting ring had been marked out with sticks and to one side was a large golden gong. In the surrounding trees, hundreds of lemurs sat and applauded as the contestants arrived. Stripes held up a paw in thanks, as though the applause was all for him. Lay-Z was carried into position by two lemurs.

  A fanfare of bamboo trumpets announced the arrival of Empress Me. She was seated on top of a huge leaf carried by four lemurs. She waited for the applause to die down, then spoke.

  “Welcome to the Fighting Trial of Dragon Island.” The lemurs applauded wildly. “We want good clean fights,” continued Empress Me. “The aim is to win, not to cause injury.” She looked at Stripes as she said this. “Round One will involve four battles. First, Chuck Cobracrusher versus Lay-Z.”

  Chuck laid down his sword and entered the ring.

  “Good luck, Chuck,” shouted Jet.

  “Go get him,” added Donnie.

  Lay-Z didn’t stir. Two lemurs carried the sleeping sloth into the ring and placed him on the ground. Another lemur sounded the huge gong. “Let the fight commence,” Empress Me commanded.

  Chuck bowed. Lay-Z didn’t move.

  Chuck assumed an attack position, with his legs bent, his right arm out straight, and his left raised in the air.

  Lay-Z let out a small snore.

  “I’ve never seen Do Zing in action before,” said Jet excitedly.

  “It’s thrilling to watch so far,” Donnie yawned.

  Chuck approached slowly. Then, suddenly, Lay-Z’s eyes shot open. Chuck attacked but the sloth rolled out of the way, leaped up, and caught him on the chin, sending him reeling.

  “One point to Lay-Z,” announced Empress Me.

  The lemurs applauded.

  Chuck was quick to retaliate and make it one–all. The fight picked up speed now, as Chuck and Lay-Z blocked and attacked each other’s moves at great speed, each scoring another point to make it two–all. Then Chuck moved swiftly and won the fight with a perfectly executed roundhouse kick that floored his opponent.

  “Chuck Cobracrusher wins,” cried Empress Me.

  Lay-Z bowed to Chuck, walked to the ringside, and immediately fell fast asleep.

  Empress Me announced that Donnie and Turbold were next up. Donnie took off his backpack and followed the monkey into the ring. Donnie was first to get the advantage, sending Turbold staggering back with a kick to the chest. Turbold retaliated with a flying attack, which missed Donnie, but distracted him long enough for Turbold to roll along the ground, spring up, and tap him on the back, making it even. After two more battles the score was two–all but, in a dramatic finish, Turbold sprang up, spun around, did a triple somersault, and clipped Donnie on the head to win the fight.

  “Turbold wins,” announced Empress Me.

  “You fought with great honor,” said Chuck, as Donnie rejoined him.

  “Really? I thought I was fighting with Turbold,” replied Donnie, taking his defeat in good spirit.

  “Next up, Plato and Stripes,” yelled Empress Me.

  After the gong sounded, Stripes showed that he was certainly strong. But he was not fast enough for the pelican. Plato was a sublime fighter. With perfect poise, he anticipated his opponent’s every move. The badger failed to even land one punch, and Plato won three–nil, finishing Stripes off with a left-footed high kick that sent him flying into a tree trunk. Several lemurs tumbled down from the branches above.

  “Looks like Stripes is seeing stars,” said Donnie.

  Stripes got up, brushed himself down, and grumpily stomped back to the sidelines.

  Empress Me announced the final fight of Round One. “Bruce versus Jet!”

  “I’ll go easy on you,” said Jet, walking into the fighting ring.

  “And I’ll try not to mess up your fur,” replied Bruce.

  The two meerkats had sparred many times before, but, once the gong had sounded, it was different. This was serious. Jet got the first strike in, landing a tickle-punch on Bruce’s shoulder.

  “One point to Jet,” said Empress Me.

  “I didn’t even feel that,” exclaimed Bruce.

  “Let’s see if you feel this,” replied Jet. He did a figure-of-eight leap then ducked into a forward roll, pounced, and landed a twisting punch on Bruce’s stomach.

  “Another point to Jet,” cried Empress Me.

  Bruce yelled out in annoyance. “Right, that’s it,” he said, charging forward. His speed took Jet by surprise and Bruce knocked him clean off his feet, scoring his first point.

  “I didn’t hit you that hard!” cried Jet.

  The two meerkats circled each other, maintaining constant eye contact.

  Suddenly, Bruce lunged forward, but Jet dodged and caught his friend on the shoulder with his tail.

  “Jet wins,” the empress announced.

  “Ninja-boom!” Jet cried.

  The lemurs applauded wildly until Empress Me held up a paw. “The winners of Round One are through to Round Two. Chuck will go up against Turbold, followed by Jet and Plato.”

  Chuck and Turbold were evenly matched. Both competitors were spinning, jumping, dodging, ducking, and diving to avoid the other’s attacks. It wasn’t long before both Chuck and Turbold had two points each.

  They stood face-to-face, breathing heavily and observing each other carefully, when suddenly, a cell phone beeped.

  “Sorry,” said Stripes, pulling a phone from his belt.

  Turbold took advantage of the distraction. He flipped up on his paws and swung his tail, clipping Chuck on the top of his head.

  “That’s not fair,” shouted Jet.

  “Yeah, he was distracted,” added Donnie.

  Empress Me turned angrily to Stripes. “There should be no contact with the outside world on Dragon Island.”

  “I thought I’d turned it off,” said Stripes defensively.

  She addressed Chuck. “Would you like to replay the point? It was an unfair distraction.”

  “We both heard it,” said Chuck. “But only I was distracted. Therefore Turbold is the rightful winner.”

  Turbold and Chuck bowed to one another and returned to the sidelines.

  “Next up, Jet versus Plato. The winner will fight Turbold in the final round,” Empress Me announced. “And Mr. Stripes, please ensure your phone is now off.”

  Stripes mumbled something under his breath but switched off his phone.

  “Good luck, Jet,” said Chuck.

  Jet took his place in the ring opposite Plato, but when Empress Me announced the beginning of the fight and the gong sounded, neither of the competitors moved.

  “What’s going on?” asked Bruce.

  “Neither wants to give anything away by making the first attack,” Chuck replied.

  When they finally moved, it was impossible to say who went first. The fight was like an elegant dance that resulted in Jet landing a soft tap on the pelican’s bill. Plato quickly responded with a right-footed kick. Before Jet recovered he was caught again by the edge of the bird’s webbed foot and sent flying. Finally, Jet took control. He ducked a series of rapid kicks and scored a point with a quick return kick. He then somersaulted over Plato’s head, tapping him on his bill.

  “Jet wins!” yelled Empress Me.

  Plato bowed low. “It is an honor to lose to such a worthy opponent.”

  “Final round,” announced Empress Me. “Jet versus Turbold. Jet, would you like a rest first?”

  “No way,” said Jet. “I’m just getting warmed up.”

  The lemurs applauded in excitement. Turbold and Jet bowed and the gong sounded.

  “I have beaten Chuck and Donnie,” said Turbold. “You’ll be a piece of cake.”

  “I think you’ll find I’ve got the recipe for victory,” replied Jet.

  “Ha! You don’t even have the ingredients,” countered Turbold.

  Over on the sideline, Donnie sighed. “Always with the cheesy battle banter, those two.”

  “All this talk of cake and cheese is making me hungry,” said Bruce.

  Once the gong had sounded, Turbold made the first move. It was a high-flying kick. Jet dodged it, then rallied with a series of punches and kicks that completely missed their target. The two competitors were so well-matched that they fought for some time without either scoring a single point, but eventually the tip of Jet’s tail connected with Turbold’s stomach and he won the first point. This made Turbold up his game—he took Jet by surprise with a spectacular double backflip, and equalized. Two more fantastic bouts made it two-all.

  “Trial point,” cried Empress Me. “The next competitor to score will win the first trial.”

  “Get him, Jet!” cried Donnie.

  “Quiet, please.” Empress Me glared at Donnie.

  Turbold and Jet eyed each other while Jet subtly rubbed his feet on the ground.

  “What’s he doing?” whispered Bruce.

  “The Super-charged Shock Attack,” mouthed Chuck.

  Sure enough, Jet’s fur was soon standing on end. When Turbold lunged, Jet aimed an outstretched paw at him. A spark of blue light flew across the ring at Turbold, sending the monkey staggering backwards.

  Jet seized the moment and leaped forward, tapping Turbold lightly on the nose—and giving him a second shock.

  “Point to Jet,” cried Empress Me. “Jet wins the first trial.”

  “Ninja-booooooooom!” cried Jet, punching the air.

  The lemurs applauded and Bruce charged forward to congratulate him.

  “Bruce, no!” shouted Chuck.

  But it was too late. Bruce threw his arms around Jet. There was an almighty flash of light, and Bruce flew backwards through the air into a tree trunk.

  “Shocking,” said Donnie with a smirk.

  That evening over dinner, the hot topic of conversation was Jet’s spectacular victory and what the following day’s trial might involve. Empress Me, however, would give no hints as to what it might be. The feast was even more lavish than the previous night. Jet and Turbold were happily goading each other about who was the best, Bruce was stuffing his face, and Chuck was talking to Plato about philosophy. Even Stripes was getting into the mood, wowing a group of lemurs with his ability to juggle six grapefruits.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” asked Donnie.

  “I’m not only the best prize fighter the animal kingdom has ever known, you know,” he replied. “I have many talents. What about you? Have you got any party tricks?”

  “Have I got any party tricks?” echoed Donnie. “You bet I have.”

  Delving into his backpack, Donnie pulled out a long tube with a wick coming out of one end.

  “What’s that? A firework?” snorted Stripes.

  “This is a ground-to-air, movement-sensitive, programmable missile,” said Donnie. “It pinpoints its target and is powerful enough to blow a tank wide open.”

  “How is that a party trick?” asked Stripes.

  “Because it also makes a brilliant firework. Watch this.”

  * * *

  After breakfast the next morning, the competitors followed Empress Me’s carriage on a trek across the island. As before, two lemurs carried Lay-Z, who was still fast asleep. They followed the stream until they came to a spot where it cascaded in a waterfall down to a pool below. By the side of the stream was a tree that had grown outward so that its twisting branches hung over the drop to the sparkling water.

  The eight competitors gathered around as Empress Me climbed down from her carriage and stood in front of the tree. The army of lemurs settled around to watch. Behind them, rising up from the jungle was the volcano, sending out its endless line of red smoke.

  “This second trial is a test of endurance, focus, and resolve. It is known as…” Empress Me paused for effect, then said, “The Trial of the Tea Tree.”

  Stripes yawned. “Sounds thrilling.”

  “Once again, you must lay down your weapons and gadgets before you take part,” commanded Empress Me.

  Donnie, Chuck, and Jet did as she said.

  “What do we have to do?” asked Plato.

  A lemur stepped forward holding a tray with eight cups of tea, each full to the brim.

  “Each of you must take a cup of our local tea. You must carry it to a branch of your choosing and hold it without spilling it. The competitor who holds it the longest will be the winner.”

  “Sitting in a tree holding a cup of tea isn’t my idea of a trial,” said Stripes, but he still took the cup and carried it carefully along one of the branches.

  Secretly Jet agreed with him, but he said nothing and took the cup. Lay-Z opened his eyes long enough to get into position, then rested the tea on his stomach and went back to sleep. Soon all eight competitors were perched on branches, clutching or balancing cups.

  “Let the trial begin,” cried Empress Me.

  After what seemed like hours, Jet was beginning to wonder whether the trial was really a test of who got bored first. Then, without warning, Donnie giggled.

  “Hey! That tickles,” he said, slapping his arm.

  “What does?” asked Jet. But before Donnie could answer, Jet felt a tickling sensation start in his feet, then work its way slowly up his leg.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Look, they’re t-t-tickling ants,” said Donnie, bursting into hysterical laughter and dropping his cup of tea. The liquid splashed out as the cup fell down into the water below.

  “Donnie is out,” cried Empress Me.

  Donnie climbed back along the branch to the solid ground and picked up his backpack. “I’d have been all right if I’d been able to use my anti-tickle lotion,” he said, as he put on his backpack.

  Stripes and Plato were the next two competitors to dissolve into giggles and spill their tea, followed by Bruce, who dropped his cup and started licking his body.

  “I didn’t think you were ticklish,” Donnie said.

  “I’m not,” said Bruce.

  “So why did you move?”

  Bruce licked his arm. “I was hungry. Ants are yummy.”

  There were four competitors remaining. Chuck, Jet, Turbold, and Lay-Z stayed dead still on their branches, watched by hundreds of lemurs in the surrounding trees. Empress Me licked a finger and held it in the air. “Ah, the wind is changing direction. It is time for the next part of the trial.”