He was evil. She knew she could not trust him… he was a killer and dangerous and a hundred other evil things. But he was all the company she had. As Sarah looked at the glowing embers of the fire, she caught the sound of the dragon’s rumbling steps. He was coming again. She did not know what to think or feel. She didn’t want to be talking to a dark monster, but what choice did she have?
“Sarah, are you awake?” the deep rumbling voice of the dark dragon, Romlott Hus, called.
“You know I am.”
“It’s dinnertime; I brought you a nice deer today. Tender and full of flavor. I hope you like it.”
“Why? Why are you keeping me chained, why are you keeping me alive?” She rose, defiant, and yanked on her chains. She looked the dark worm in the eye and yelled, “You took me from my family, you killed the soldiers who came to rescue me. I hate you!” The echo of her rage sounded off the walls, causing the dragon to step back.
Then he deliberately stepped toward her, moving his great bulk to pull against the anchor bolts holding her chains to the wall. Satisfied she had not loosened them, he chided gently, “Now, now, Sarah, temper, temper. You’re not bothering me at all, but you might hurt yourself straining against your chains.” The dragon sighed patiently, then continued, “You know the answers to those questions; we have been over this a hundred times. Surely by now you realize I will not hurt you? Nor will I allow anyone else to hurt you or take you from me. You are safe here, Sarah.”
“I am not safe! I am a prisoner chained to a rock. I have not seen daylight in weeks. And I don’t care if you hurt me or not!” Sarah strained again against the chains that bound her. Looking around for a rock to throw at the dragon, she carelessly grabbed one close to the fire and screamed. Her hand blistered from the heat.
“Oh, now look what you’ve done.” The dragon tsked. Then drawing close to Sarah, he grabbed her hand in his and blew on it. Sarah was not wise in the ways of dragons and did not understand that the dragon had placed the idea in her head to pick up the hot rock so he could do exactly what he was doing—touch her hand while she was vulnerable and blow on it. Some dragon’s breath contained a narcotic. And this particular dragon’s breathe was extremely potent. As he blew on her burned hand, she breathed in his fumes and unknowingly came under his influence. “I am so sorry you hurt yourself, Sarah. You know I would never want you to do that. You know, don’t you, Sarah?”
Sarah’s head was fuzzy. She felt sleepy and shook her head to stay awake. The dragon repeated himself, “You know I do not want you to hurt yourself, don’t you, Sarah?”
She looked up at the gentle dragon holding her hand, trying to cool down the feverishly hot blisters. What a sweet being he really was. He didn’t have to help her. He could have eaten her, but he did not.
“Why are you healing me? Why are you trying to be nice to me?” she asked, attempting to jerk her hand away from the dragon’s strong grip.
“Because you are such a beautiful and wonderful person, Sarah. I am not evil. Like all of God’s other creatures, I am just trying to survive. I do not want to hurt anybody. If they had not come out to kill me, I would never have bothered those hateful, brutish men. You know that now, don’t you, Sarah?”
A faraway part of Sarah wanted to argue with the dragon. But the deep, warm voice that seemed to spread across her fearful heart like a comforting blanket quickly smothered the voice that wanted to argue. Deep within her she was screaming no! But that part of her was so far away now it sounded like a faint, rasping whisper. Instead of screaming and resisting the dragon, she found herself saying, “Yes. Yes, I know.”
“Sarah, I know you have been afraid of me. But have I done anything to hurt you? Have I been angry with you? Or struck you?”
The dragon had actually done all those things, but his spell was cast and the memories of those harsh encounters had been lulled away. So when Sarah tried to remember any painful times, she could not wake them. “No, no, you haven’t hurt me. Not at all.”
“I know that evil boy has bothered you, Sarah. He tells lies about me and troubles me too. Don’t believe his lies, Sarah. He is a cruel thief. Don’t you remember what he did to that poor pig in the market? The pig was desperately running for its life. It was terrified and that boy, that murderer, captured the terrified beast! You remember that, don’t you, Sarah?”
Sarah was fighting to stay awake, her eyes heavy. She didn’t realize it was her subconscious attempting to escape the seductive words of the dragon. The dragon realized it, though, and squeezed her burned hand, sending a wave of pain up her arm.
She screamed. The pain startled her awake. Shaking her head, she pulled her hand out of the dragon’s claw and stared at it. The blisters were gone. Her skin was whole. It had turned a pale green, as other parts of her also had but she didn’t notice; she simply stared, mouth gaping, eyes wide, at her hand.
“See, Sarah, your hand is whole. I healed it. It is a gift of dragons to heal quickly, and they are compassionate healers. See… I am not evil, Sarah. I healed your hand.”
Sarah was reeling. A part of her, voiceless now but still resisting, knew she was under attack, but her thoughts had been overwhelmed by the dragon’s breath and his hypnotic voice. A heaviness settled around her heart. She didn’t realize it was her spirit’s way of telling her something was wrong. She continued to stare at her hand. Then a thought broke out of the prison the dragon was pushing it into and cried out, He is turning you into a dragon! Stop him, Sarah!
Sarah blinked and looked back at her hand. Not only was it turning dragon green, it had small scales forming. The realization shook her, her senses cleared, and she looked in horror at the dragon. “You are turning me into a dragon!”
The serpent’s eyes slitted and the corner of his lip curled in disdain. “Foolish child, don’t you know I could not transform you into a dragon if it wasn’t in your blood?” His raspy cackle echoed through the cavern. “Not everybody can be a dragon, Sarah. But a few uniquely wonderful people have the blood. I couldn’t turn you into a dragon unless you already were one at heart!”
Sarah stumbled back and fell on the cave floor. Fear and anger blew through her, crushing her soul and silencing any attempt of her mind to resist. The dragon spoke the truth, and it grieved her. She was eternally damned, unable to change what she was. Dragons were innately evil. All those thoughts hammered away at her. In her weakened condition with the dragon’s narcotic breath in her lungs and his magic streaming through her blood from healing her hand, she faltered and gave way to despair. The dragon knew he had won and also knew her own thoughts would do more damage than anything else he could say. The dragon turned to go, bending down to enter the exit tunnel. As she watched him leaving, she spoke. “What do you want me to do?”
The dragon looked down at her, reached his leathery claw toward her, and stroked her hair. “Oh, pretty Sarah, that is simple: if the boy comes back, tell me and then we will kill him.”
The wicked beast laughed and then slithered off into the darkness of the cave tunnel.
Sarah sat in the gloom of the coal fire and stared at her green-tinted scaly hands. “I have dragon blood. There is no hope for me. No hope for me… that is why he kidnapped me, that is why I have survived. I am stronger than others because of my bloodlines.” The drugs in her veins were diminishing and her thoughts were growing clearer. But the lies the dragon had spoken pierced her heart like barbed hooks. There was enough truth in them for her to know it, but not enough for her to realize not all the truth had been spoken. Sarah didn’t know how long she sat staring into the fire.
The sound of footsteps cautiously moving down the cavern tunnel toward her interrupted her thoughts. Right away she knew they belonged to Harry. She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or if it was really happening. Her dreams involving Harry had been real windows of communication. So in a sense this was real whether or not it was a dream. As she waited staring in the direction of the oncoming steps, she heard Harry’s voice. “Princess S
arah? Princess Sarah? I am walking into the light now. Please don’t be alarmed. It’s only me.”
Sarah was relieved. She knew it had to be Harry. But it was good he thought enough of her to warn her and not just walk up and startle her. Then another part of her grew angry. How dare he come now. He was too late! There was nothing he could do but die and, worst case, cause the dragon to retaliate and kill her too. Her conflicted thoughts warred with one another. She realized the dark dragon’s hypnotic voice had influenced her.
Fear and hopelessness had combined in her stomach, and now bitter bile threatened to erupt. Sarah swallowed hard, forcing it back. Harry was not the cause of her problems, but because he could not be the cure, she disdained him. A part of her fought those feelings. She knew the boy had done all he could and had gotten further than any before him.
Chapter Twelve
“Princess Sarah? Are you well?” Harry stumbled out, not knowing what else to say. In the dreams he felt bolder, but now in the flesh his natural shyness manifested and he stuttered and limped through his awkwardness. He was not emotionally perceptive enough to realize the conflicts going on in Sarah and was not prepared for her response.
“Why are you here?”
Blinking, Harry grimaced and went blank. Words abandoned him. The sword that was embedded in Harry’s psyche had been expecting this kind of response and whispered in his ear, “She is under the dragon’s influence. Ask her how long has the dragon been gone?”
Harry was quick enough to realize the sword knew things he did not, so he obeyed the prompting.
“Princess Sarah, how long has the dragon been gone?”
Sarah’s eyes widened as surprise flashed across her face.
“You know he is a deceiver and is trying to capture your mind and heart as well as your body. Fight him, Sarah! You must!” Harry hated to be so forceful, but it wasn’t time for subtleties. His life and her soul were at stake.
She bowed her head and turned away.
“Princess,” he spoke gently, “we cannot give up. You cannot give up.” Worried he was losing her, Harry’s voice rose. “We have come too far to quit.”
Sarah raised her head and stared back through slitted yellow eyes. Her lip curled, and she spat out, “I am a princess, you are a peasant. How dare you speak to me like that. Who do you think you are, telling me what to do!”
Harry had come a long way through filthy swamp and dark tunnels. He had joined with the speaker sword and he had tried to comfort the princess through their shared dreams. He had also, and most significantly, had a vision of the King of the dragon riders and received from that King a commission. It rose up in him now, responding to Sarah’s angry outcry.
“I am a dragon rider, ma’am. I have received an appointment from the King and with that commission an order to rescue you and slay this evil demon. I am not here in my own power but his, and if you have a problem with that, you can take it up with him.”
Harry’s words sounded like distant thunder rumbling toward a drought-ridden land. They struck the princess, and her eyes reverted to normal and her anger melted, replaced by the real Sarah, who blinked, shook her head, looked Harry right in the eyes, and said, “Yes, sir, you are. I haven’t been myself of late and ask your forgiveness.”
He wanted to say, Ha, no kidding, sister, but didn’t and instead replied, “Indeed, my lady,” grinning like a donkey eating briars. For a second, he looked at her. She smiled back, and both stared at each other like idiots.
The sword broke up the trance by saying, “Excuse me, Harry, but don’t you think you ought to quit gawking and get busy?”
“Yep, I sure do,” he responded aloud.
“What?” she laughed. “Are you talking to yourself?”
The sword quickly and intensely shouted in Harry’s mind, “You can’t tell her, Harry, not yet. Get out of this and then tell her but do not tell her about me now.”
Harry recovered and responded, “Sometimes I am the best company I have and have gotten into some very bad habits.”
The sword sighed and said, “It’s okay to get information from her, Harry, but she is vulnerable to the dragon’s deception. Be careful.”
Sarah, back in her right mind and with hope renewed but also suffering from malnutrition and exhaustion, was giddy. She had been attracted to Harry ever since she had seen his courage displayed capturing the hog in the market. She knew what he had been through to get where he now stood and she was proud of him and scared for him and hoping in him. “Do you have a plan, Harry?”
The sword advised Harry, “Tell her you have found weapons and intend on setting traps in the tunnels that lead to her. That is partially true. Then tell her you are a great rock climber and can scurry up a steep incline like a squirrel. Look around the cavern and note the far wall has outcroppings; point to them and tell her you are thinking about hiding in them and when the dragon comes to visit her, jumping out on him from those outcroppings.”
Harry did not like lying to Sarah, but he also knew that to tell her exactly what he planned was not wise. The sword picked up on that. “Harry, you are not lying; that is exactly what you are planning on doing.”
Harry thought back quickly, If that is so, why risk telling her at all?
The sword said, “Trust me, Harry. You have to trust me on this.” And then quietly to himself the sword thought, Because you are a man of integrity and not a good liar, so I am lying to you and therefore to the dragon, who will get all of this out of Sarah.
Harry looked back at Sarah, grinning at her again. She returned it. Harry’s pause as he listened to the sword was interpreted by Sarah as him thinking about his plan.
“Well, princess.”
“Hold on… just call me Sarah. Not princess, just Sarah. I think we have known each other long enough to be on a first-name basis. You good with that?”
Harry grinned like a polar bear chewing on an Eskimo and said, “Yes, ma’am.”
Sarah couldn’t help herself; she grinned back at him and laughed. “We are in a dragon’s lair, I am chained to a rock, and everyone who has tried to rescue me has died at the hands of the beast. Yet there you stand confident and strong. Courteous and handsome. And if I were not chained to this rock, I would kiss you.”
Had Sarah said that a few weeks earlier, Harry would have turned as red as a beet and run back into the cave. But he had changed. He had met the King and been forged in the fires of the journey. He looked back at the princess and shocked his own self by saying, “Well, Sarah, if you want I could move up a bit and make it easier for you to reach me.”
Sarah’s bluff had been called. Now it was her turn to blush. Harry drew close to her and looked down at her; he was a lot taller than she was. She could feel his warmth as he drew so close that a whisper couldn’t pass between them. She shivered and Harry felt it. But it was a line he had never crossed, and as brave as he was he needed an invitation. She looked up at him and smiled and then threw her arms around him. He drew her close.
A roar shattered the moment. The dragon had sensed Harry’s presence and had run down the long dark tunnels back to the princess.
Harry laughed and said, “You owe me.” And then he stepped back into the darkness and was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
Lizzy’s voice cracked, so she reached for a bottle of water. It was hard work translating her dad’s journals into a story her kindergartners could follow. A screech grabbed her attention.
“What!” the little girl on the front row wailed. “He left her? He just ran away? That is not what brave knights do. They stand and fight the evil dragon.”
“Yeah!”
“That’s right!” the other little women of Lizzy’s story time agreed.
One little boy, braver or just more interested than his other male companions, offered an alternative opinion. “I don’t know why he wanted to kiss her in the first place. She had been chained to that rock for days and probably smelled terrible.”
A little red-hair
ed girl who had been sucking on a blue ice slushy was appalled at the last comment and threw her nickel in the ring. “She didn’t smell bad; she is a princess! Everyone knows princesses do not smell bad!”
Lizzy laughed. Her argument would probably have more influence had she not stuck out her blue tongue.
The little boy who had made the smelly comment noted his sparring partner’s appendage and pointed at it, mocking, “How do you know princesses don’t smell bad… you have a blue tongue! She has a blue tongue. She has a blue tongue!”
The rest of Lizzy’s compulsive brood swung in tandem to stare wild-eyed at the red-headed, blue-tongued girl. She couldn’t deny it because she had stuck her tongue out to check and held the tip of it, stretching it.
The blue-tongued sweetie was close to tears; considering everything that had happened to them over the last year, she wasn’t at all sure that the blue-tinted tongue wasn’t permanent.
Lizzy couldn’t help herself. She laughed and said, “Oh, honey, it will not stay that way. It’s from your slushy!”
“Weally? It twill go awway?” the tongue-tainted tootle sobbed out, still holding her tongue.
“Yes, honey, it will. I had a blue tongue once, and it went right away after I brushed my teeth a couple of times…”
The little girl let go of her tongue, smiled, turned back to the restless crowd, and once again proceeded to stick the blue member out from her blue lips and blue teeth at her shocked friends.
“Now where was I?” Lizzy asked, twisting her distracted audience’s attention back to the story.
The Harry Ferguson Chronicles Box Set Page 31
