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I slammed my palm into wooden wedge again, breaking the stone with a resounding crack! The large slab broke away at last, sliding down the gradient a short way to land with a heavy thud on the level dirt below the ledge face. I took a few deep breaths. Collecting stone was not a task for the faint of heart even when you had the strength of a dragon. Below me, a few stone cutters set to work with sledgehammers, accurately breaking the stone slab into chucks that could be moved by hand into the ox wagon. Another similar chunk and the men would have enough stone to occupy them for the next week. I beat against the stone with my tail to begin a new crack...

It turned out that the wood from the house, even with separated with care, did not go as far as I would have liked in constructing my new home. I planned to start with an open air amphitheatre which I intended to use for greeting guests. I told my woodworker, a burly man whose bare chest was covered with course black hair, to build it large enough to accommodate myself and up to one other dragon of similar size. It would be built into the earth, the wood used to form shelves for humans to gather to speak to me. I would sit at the center of the structure. I desired stone for the bottom of my amphitheatre because I didn't want to tread the dirt into mud under me. There was a small source of stone known to exist in the forest, but no actual quarry had been formed. I learned shortly after I commissioned the work that the men around here were not willing to work for free.

Half of the chest of gold coins bought the willing labor of three quarters of the men in the village, provided that I perform some of the hardest labor myself in breaking in the new quarry as well as felling a few trees. Transportation of materials remained a problem since, despite the size of my frame, I was actually very limited in my ability to carry and fly with large weights. My frame was quite heavy in and of itself; most of my lifting ability was used in just getting my body off the ground. The men who had oxen to spare made a large sum of money in those first weeks.

The spreading of Sir Ronald's hoarded wealth went leaps and bounds towards improving my image in the eyes of the villagers. Most were still too frightened to approach me directly, but those who I had contact with - usually the people who stood most to profit from providing me their services - quickly acclimated to contact with their new lord. In addition, crops were still sown, and the herds maintained - even most of Sir Ronald's livestock was quickly recovered. The village was quite active this summer as the men labored on my first structure.

As for myself, I slept in the open air on the grounds of the estate that was rightfully won. I took my two chests of wealth, however, high into the mountains and hid them in a hole so elevated no human would ever reach it. I hunted more than I ate livestock, commanding the herdsman to expand the herds as quickly as he could, particularly the succulent dairy cows whose soft flesh I had to forgo for now. The fields suffered mightily for my treading on them, even after I'd largely smoothed the damages I'd caused the day I invaded the property. I grew to walk along certain trails which later I would pave and line with trees and flowers. The quantities of manure I produced helped the grass recover as the summer progressed.

The village itself, I never visited, for which the villagers were likely grateful. I did spy on them from above, however, no longer attempting to hide myself. Often they would point at me from below. Sometimes, the youngest ones would wave. With the men largely occupied on the construction at the manor, many of the village's woman took the charge, working in the fields and tending the animals. The blacksmith even began teaching his own daughter the trade, which was huge news in the town apparently. There were simply no men available for the apprenticeship. The portion of the population who had fled the village when I'd taken over eventually returned, looking for paid work. Some vagabonds were drawn in as well, seeking an escape from poverty. More coins emptied from the smallest chest.

As for Richard, he eventually became the commander of the militia under me. He was silent on the matter and hardly left his house actually, for several months after the day his son died. He came to me in the middle of a lonely night in July. His beard was long and unkempt and in his hand was an unsheathed sword. He told me that he had to either kill me or forgive me. We talked the night long and when the dawn came, it found Richard gone, his sword planted in the earth at my feet. Later he would admit that I had the right to defend myself and that the true fault lay with Sir Ronald for goading Brian into challenging me with nothing more than a handful of other men and an ambush strategy and with his own son for thinking he could accomplish the task. Afterwards, Richard tended to drink heavily on the weekends, but otherwise was a capable commander.

Seeing as I was taking the title "Lord." It seemed fitting that I knight both my chief servants. Richard became known as Sir Chestworth. Tobias, on the other hand, took a new surname and became Sir Drakling. He gave me the new name with a small twisted smile and I rolled my eyes and allowed him his perversion. I questioned him several times on the choice of the new name, but he never gave me a straight answer, usually saying something along the line of "new station, new name" or wanting to leave the association with farming behind him. It did not escape my attention that Tobias did not return to his home, but rather rented a room in the village inn. It seemed that despite gifting them a sizable fortune from Sir Ronald's estate, he was still not on good terms with his remaining family. After all, he had essentially forced his father out of his home. That man's whereabouts remained unknown to me, but I cared little save that he was no longer a member of the village. In time, I came to believe that Tobias felt that he was no longer worthy of or had somehow stained his father's name. However, he grew to like very much the name "Drakling" and the overtones and associations it afforded him.

When the paving stones of the amphitheatre were in place and the tiers constructed with care in a lavish, but functional style with twisting, snake-like stairs twisting and converging from top to bottom - I sacrificed capacity for elegance - I commissioned several artists to begin carving the stone, the wooden tiers and handrails with delightful images of dragons breathing fire, dragons in flight and wing motifs. It was vain, but I found the style suited my tastes. I also called for the forging of large lamps to hang from poles and the crafting of tables and chairs for the human occupants; I found myself wishing I had saved some of the furniture from the manor. I also adorned the place with large clay pots holding small trees or flowering plants to add some color. I thought about ordering a massive rug for myself, but figured that my weight and my scales would wear it out too quickly. The carved stone, set in a shallow bowl was fine enough for my resting place.

It was late summer as the artists were putting the finishing touches on my theatre. The christening ceremony would be held next week and Tobias and Richard would be officially knighted by myself in front of all of the trades people and important folk of the village. I summoned Tobias to my side a fair distance away so we were out of earshot. He was dressed in all in black as was his taste nowadays. His coat open at his chest was stitched with a wing design over a bronze shirt. I reminded myself to speak with him about his choice in fashion sometime in the near future. "Tobias." I said. I never used his surname to his face and certainly never called him 'Sir.' "I have an important mission for you that you must undertake as soon as we have the ceremony next week."

"It's a privilege to serve, My Lord." Said the young man with a deep bow. "How can I be of assistance?"