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The Wild Rose Press
www.thewildrosepress.com
Copyright ©2007 by Valerie Everhart
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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The Dragon of Croatia
by
Valerie Everhart
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Dragon of Croatia
COPYRIGHT ©
2007 by Valerie Everhart
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Rae Monet
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 706
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Faery Rose Edition, 2008
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
If you can't stand the heat, don't tickle the dragon.
To the dragons that I hold close to my heart.
Chapter One
Mratin, the monk, genuflected as he watched the furtive movements of a bearded man cross the dusty road. He confirmed that the man carried the bundle under his arm, concealed with burlap. Heat shimmered off the road. The man paused, his foot poised on the stone steps leading to the front doors of an old, abandoned whitewashed house. He darted his head right, then left, but Mratin was safe within the shadows of the Roman Catholic monastery.
As expected, the man entered the building. Mratin waited to do his part. He was to see the bundle to its next destination once the man came out empty-handed. Minutes dragged by, but the bearded man never materialized. Mratin was accustomed to patiently waiting, but when the minutes drug out, he knew something hadn't gone as planned.
He stepped out, and paused, the sunshine blinding him for a moment. Mratin strolled across the shimmering road to the stone building, and casually looked across to the rise of mountains in the distance as if looking for divination. He pushed the door slightly and listened. Hearing nothing, he slipped inside, the coolness a stark contrast against the oppressive heat outside. Silence met him, but for the sound of flies. The bearded man was still there, but he wouldn't be walking back out. The man's skull had been crushed, and the flies had already amassed. There was no sign of the bundle. Mratin carefully made sure as he fumbled through the man's shirt. This was not part of the plan. He turned and slipped back out, casually looking around before descending the steps. He fervently hoped that when he reported the dragon stone tablet missing, the Conte didn't think this was his fault.
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Vacation at last. Calie Stewart lay back on the lounge chair, soaking up the sun. A position she had perfected since yesterday. Two full weeks of sun, sand and sea; clear blue Adriatic Sea, to be exact. When she grew bored with sunlight, she'd do her most favorite of all things—caving.
Croatia had it all, more specifically, Island Brac did. Its twenty-five miles of land sported a private beach, a caving guide and modest accommodations, with all kinds of activities for either unwinding or adventure.
Here she was, staying in the Murvica Lighthouse Inn, which was located on a small island in the Drvenicki Canal, between the island of Drvenik Mali and the mainland. Petar, the owner, insisted that he would take her out fishing in his boat and Annah, his wife, would clean and cook anything she caught for dinner.
A movement off to her side caught her attention and she saw Josip, the lighthouse keeper's young son, approach. His shadow fell across her abdomen. He blushed at her near nakedness. Although on vacation, and not on assignment, she still used the cover of being Ms Stewart, the high school teacher, from Roanoke, Virginia. She closed her eyes.
Frankly, she didn't particularly care to have another admirer. This vacation was a valentine's gift to herself, using money that had been earmarked for the wedding. Halsten Breck had dashed her hopes of that happening. Not that he was the one she was going to marry. No, he was the one that opened her eyes to what she might have gotten into by marrying Maxwell Norris before he was found of embezzling from the advertising agency he worked for. It was too long and drawn out for her to dwell on with the rays of the sun beating her body into a glowing blush of bronze.
Josip cleared his throat. She gave in, opened her eyes, and looked at him over her sunglasses.
"Everything is set up for your guide and tour of Draconja Spilja, miss."
"Thanks, Josip. I'm looking forward to caving tomorrow.” Always respectful when she went spelunking, she was glad to have Josip as her guide. Young as he was, he might not think too much about her adeptness and obsession with caving—that it might not be in keeping with what a normal schoolteacher would do.
The urge to go exploring was already making her restless for putting on her hiking boots and gathering her caving equipment.
People did caving for different reasons. Some did it to be the first person ever in a cave, some to set depth records. Then there were those like her, who did it to scoop booty. Legally. It's what she always did in between assignments to help her relax. She loved looking for the next, never before explored cave, to find the mysteries it concealed.
Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. She'd take Annah and Petar Zirac up on their offer of fishing and dinner toward the end of her vacation. For now, she had the compulsion to spelunk.
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The smell of coconut butter felt at odds with the dankness of the cave. After her shower that morning, Calie hadn't wanted the tan that she'd worked diligently on for the past two days to fade, or worse, peel, and had liberally applied the tropical cream all over her body. So today, she had traded her huge sunglasses and tiny two-piece, for sturdy boots, lighted helmet and a backpack. Give her clammy, gloomy rocks and dim passages over sun any day.
If she found what she sought, eventually she would bring in a team, map it, and make the proper authorities aware. That was a big if.
With the exertion of the climb up the mountain, and the mercilessly glaring sun, she now smelled like a sweating tropical drink. Petar had dropped them off at the foot of the path leading up the mountainside, and although it wasn't yet mid-day, the sun was glaring hot. She had her hiking backpack and enough gear to spend the night out—in case the situation warranted.
Totally absorbed when it came to discovering new caves, she was adept at detecting unseen passages, and didn't want to be rushed. She'd arranged for Petar to be back here tomorrow for pickup, but if they weren't there at the prearranged time to come back the following day.
She had happened upon a conversation yesterday between Josip and Petar that still had her pondering the significance of it.
She had grown bored last evening and went looking for Josip, knowing that everything was prepared, she'd thought they were going over last minute instructions, so she paused to listen. Petar had his hand on Josip's shoulder, “It is still concealed, but you will remember where it is—as we talked about."
"Yes. Me, I will see that she does
as she should. I did not think it had to be acquired that way is all."
"It is imperative that she find it on her own, son. You will learn soon enough that we protect and keep that which is ours."
Josip nodded then shrugged, “It is, as it will. I will see to it."
Petar happened to glance over his shoulder and saw her standing there. Flustered, he clapped Josip on the back and spoke louder, “As I said, do not be gone long, only as planned.” He nodded to her and hurried away. Josip grunted at her as he walked by. She stood there wondering what just happened.
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The path led up to the cliffs of Vidova gora, which was over the village of Murvica, where she stayed in the Lighthouse Inn. The footpath was narrow and precarious in places, but the scenery was unbelievable. At times, they passed above the tops of terra cotta roofed small stone cottages, some in ruined disrepair, and others so quaint, as to be painted. They had passed several abandoned monasteries, which looked good for exploring later. What she had come for was to discover a passage leading to what no person had ever seen—a virgin cave. This dragon-cave, so called because of the dragon reliefs carved into the walls, was considered a holy place. Legend told, it was made by a Glagolitic friar during the 5th century; during this period, the caves were sought out only in times of trouble. Its main entrance was mapped and well documented; she wanted to find what others had overlooked.
It was said that Polish monks hiding from the Turks inhabited the cave in the 15th century. They used the cave as a dwelling and temple. Once inside, she knew she would find wall carvings—reliefs, dating from pagan mythology and Christian engravings in the stone. Center stage would be dominated by images of a huge dragon on the western wall. Doing some research on the Internet before she came confirmed that she would also see images of other animals, male and female heads and even the famous half-moon depicted with a human face. Historians were still baffled by its meaning.
The entrance afforded her respite from the glaring sun, and she paused a moment to allow her eyes to adjust. Calie admired the reliefs and sculptures. They were fascinating to a point, due to their age, but not what she had come for.
The compelling dragon on the wall was carved intricately, virtually tangible in its detail. For a moment, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, as the dragon seemed to shimmer. Its chest heaved. It had to be the shadows given off by the lights on their helmets. She shook her head, and searched the other walls. This central chamber wasn't her primary focus. She was intent on locating an offshoot, access that could only be gained through a tunnel that could be controlled as to its approach in and out.
It was dusty work, dirty and she loved it. Time lost all meaning as she poked and prodded, methodically working her way around in the chamber.
Her experience with caves made her suspect that if she found a passage which continued beyond the point where the floor met the downward curve of the ceiling; it might conceal a trail that had originally been thought to be a dead end. Standard practice in spelunking was to crawl and scramble into every cranny, and dig at points that might obscure hidden places rich with secrets or treasures.
"Miss, it grows dark outside. Should we find a place to pitch our tent?” Josip said, startling her as he stood over her shoulder, peering into where she had just been prodding.
She sighed. She had forgotten he was with her, and wasn't ready to give up for the night. She glanced at her watch and wondered what Josip would think of spending the night right here. It was truly late, and she had no desire to climb back out, locate a spot to pitch a tent and then start all over the next morning.
"We could always camp here, couldn't we?” She asked.
At his askance look, she got her answer. “I guess not.” With an even bigger sigh, she gathered her tools and gear, and hiked back to the entrance.
"Miss, we will resume your search in the morning. Me, I feel tomorrow is your day to find that which you seek.” He nodded emphatically.
She shrugged, and realized she was a bit tired, and grimy.
While the island had sunlight for fourteen hours a day, the sun had gone down a long time ago. The stars were bright, and she could make out the formation of rocks and boulders and discern the path. She turned to Josip. “Do you know of a flat spot for a tent, or...” She stopped talking.
They both heard the low sound of men's voices, coming up the trail that they had traversed that morning. Josip's eyes darted to her and then back inside the cave. Frantically, he turned around. She opened her mouth, but he shook his head vehemently. He was scared. Evidently, he knew something she didn't.
He motioned her to follow, and although it was hard to do with all her gear, she moved silently with him back off the trail. They squeezed in and knelt down behind a massive rock. She withdrew her knife when she saw Josip already had his out.
At first, she didn't hear anything, and thought the men had gone in a different direction, but soon, she heard them getting closer. She took a breath and let it out very softly. She wanted to hear what they said. As a schoolteacher, she probably should be showing signs of distress. She hoped Josip was too distraught to notice. She had to know what they were about.
"We will look around, nevertheless,” one man said. “The Conte said to check that it hadn't been disturbed. Here, you help carry these some of the way.” The other man grunted, and the first man continued talking, “There may be scouts about with the killing of one of their runners. That hadn't been the plan, and someone needs to be accountable to changing things."
She heard the second man grunt again, then more scuffling as they went into the cave. She and Josip waited until they finally came back out; all she could make out was muttering by one of the men. They didn't pause, but made there way back down the footpath she and Josip had traveled.
Josip waited to make sure they'd left the area, then motioned to her. Crouching, they came out of their hiding spot.
"What now?” she whispered. There was no way they could make the walk back down in the dark.
"We go to the monastery."
That sounded like a good idea. She didn't want to announce their presence with the tents set up, it wasn't like she would get any sleep after that incident.
Still careful to keep quiet, they slowly moved down a very narrow path that she could barely see, but relied on Josip to know the way.
They approached the chapel, a desolate building, dusty and eerily quiet. A shiver went down her spine. This was a religious residence, but it still felt creepy silent. Josip eased open the door, it moved without a noise. Calie kept a watch behind them to make sure they hadn't been followed. “We can't have a fire, can we?” She already knew the answer, even though the men weren't around, but she thought it sounded good to ask.
"Later.” He had his knife out, and surveyed the inside of the chapel. She noticed Josip had taken on the role of protector. She was touched at his concern but hoped he wouldn't make her go back without finding what she had come for.
He sheathed his knife after he'd scouted the place, found it empty, and seemed to relax. “This is an abandoned nunnery, called Stipancic. At one time, it was a vast estate, with many fields and groves. But they left during the time between the two wars."
She wasn't impressed with what was left. It had fallen into decay, and showed little of being an estate. “Josip, I want to go back in the cave, tomorrow."
"Yes. You will need to do it assuredly at daybreak.” She paused, thinking he would have said that they needed to get to the village right away. Evidently, there was something here she was supposed to find and he was to assure she did. Now she was really curious.
"I guess we can take turns keeping watch while the other gets some sleep."
He looked grateful for her realistic approach to the situation.
"Do you want the first watch?” Calie asked.
He agreed, like she thought he would.
They rummaged in the backpacks for food and ate it in companionable silence. She watche
d him from time to time as he continually scanned the room. He was a nice looking young boy, about sixteen years old, who probably thought he was far older than his years. He was a good guide and she was grateful for his experience. He no longer seemed like a stranger to her.
She unrolled a blanket and rested. Several hours later, she got up and exchanged watches with Josip. Yawning, he was asleep in no time. She waited an hour, to make sure he was asleep, and then crept out the door of the chapel. She had a flashlight, but was afraid to use it, so she walked slowly and carefully, planting each step as she could see in front of her.
Calie wanted to see what the two men had carried into the cave. She finally made her way and stood outside the cavern entrance once more. Daring not to breath, she listened. After minutes went by and no sound was heard, she entered the cave. Once inside, she flipped on her helmet light. Everything looked as before. She walked to where they'd left off, then moved quickly through a narrow hall that she hadn't been through. The ceiling dropped drastically so she was forced to crouch. It wasn't a tunnel used very much, just for its lack of easy accessibility. Still, a man could get through, and it eventually opened into another cavern.
Excitement quickened through her. Then she saw something that she would never forget on the east side of the hall. A relief on a wall, showing a woman wrapped in the sun, with the moon at her feet, her hair blowing out around her. To the side, she was threatened by a large dragon, his mouth opened wide. She shone her light first on the woman, then the dragon—and caught her breath. His scales, a brilliant flame of glitter-like diamonds reflected the light back to her, shimmering ice-like brilliance.
The more she stared at the picture, the more she wondered the purpose of the dragon. Maybe he wasn't threatening the woman. Could it be he was protecting her? Then it changed again. To Calie, it looked like the dragon hungered for the woman. Her imagination was running wild. Dragons always hungered for women.
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