The Little Dragons

by Rowan Starsmith

  With the new argument and without Father Mallory to lead opposition to the idea, the Healer's Council considered it. Peg watched Father Mallory's Apprentice, wondering if he would voice his Teacher's well-known opinion on the old man’s behalf, but Gleve did not rise to speak. By the end of the discussion it had been agreed that a Librarian would be freed to systematically investigate some of the lesser-known Journals in the Library and all Healers would be issued an extra Journal and encouraged to interview everyone they Healed, especially Elders, searching for any bits of information about the Dragon Priestesses that still remained hidden. Mother Peg was delighted with this decision. “Well then, “ she said, glancing at Tess, who nodded back, confirmation. Tess would use her new Journal to track down the descendents of Mother Calla.

  Chapter 6: Gleve

  Fifteen new Healers stood in a line near the edge of the cliff. They held hands and chanted with the semi-circle of Healers and Apprentices standing behind them, a gentle salt breeze blowing into their faces. Above them stars glittered in a clear, black sky. Far below they could hear the rumble of the tide coming in on the rock beach.

  Once this Ritual would have reached its climax as the Sun broke the horizon, bathing the participants in her life-giving rays. They still walked in procession to the cliffs, raising their linked hands in prayer to the Rising Sun, but by the time the Sun herself peeked over the horizon, they had long since returned to the Gathering Space to complete their Ritual safe from hunting Dragons.

  This was the Ceremony of Receiving, when the Apprentices who were deemed by their teachers to be ready for their own Healing practice were consecrated and received into the Order. The ancient words echoed in Gleve’s very heart. This was his Calling come to fruition. His lifetime of dreaming and planning, his seven years of study, brought him to this moment. He felt satisfaction, awe, and also sadness.

  There were two large empty spaces in this Ceremony for Gleve, two people who should be here. First, Maida. She was his friend, had been ever since she had turned up at the Healer’s School seven years ago, frightened and shy, but insisting she had a Calling to the Order. They had gone through the examinations for Apprenticeship as part of the same group.

  Gleve had never questioned that he would be a Healer. There were many in his family. His uncle had sponsored his Apprenticeship application. Maida, on the other hand, had run away from her family with no idea of how far away the School was or how to get there. She had wandered, asked directions, begged rides and food, driven by that strong sense of Calling. Mother Sarah herself had examined Maida and couldn’t say enough about how her difficult journey to the School had already answered the question of her motivation. She was also clear that Maida had the Healing gift. Sometimes it pops up in families with no known Healers’ line, she had said, and when it does, it tends to be strong.

  The first day they met, Gleve had felt protective of Maida and she comfortable with him. They had quickly become confidants. She had been sent out to Mother Peg at the same time as he was sent to Father Mallory. They had traveled together as far as Mother Peg’s cabin.

  Their hopes had been so high, and now he had achieved his. He was a Healer. She was miles away, tending her goats. On the way to the Gathering, Edda, Klaus and Gleve had stopped for the night at Mother Peg’s cabin. Gleve was puzzled; Mother Peg had left for the Gathering and Maida was still there. The pain in her eyes had shocked him. When she went out to do her morning chores, he had gone with her to the stable. She had shown him her bitterness. “She refused me as an Apprentice, Gleve. She considers me a servant.”

  “But Maida, Mother Sarah herself said you have the Healing gift, and she went on and on about your determination.”

  “Tell her,” Maida had begged. “Please ask Mother Sarah to send me to another Healer as Apprentice.”

  He had promised her he would, but he had not done it yet. There was still a night left of the Gathering. He would find a way to tell Mother Sarah without being disrespectful to Mother Peg, although now he could not think of Maida’s mistress, who should have been her Teacher, without anger.

  The other missing person was Gleve’s Teacher, Father Mallory. He felt so lucky to have been assigned as Apprentice to that gentle old man. He had been taught well and they had come to love each other deeply. His Teacher should have been here to share in his Receiving.

  He closed his eyes, breathed in the chanting and drumming that surrounded him and projected it to Father Mallory. He conjured the image of the old man, here among the crowd of Healers behind him on the cliff, his smoky eyes wreathed with the fine wrinkles of his smile, his wispy white hair a disorderly halo around his head in the sea air.

  What would happen to Father Mallory now? He was fragile and needed care in order to live daily life in his isolated Northlands cabin, let alone carry out his Healing practice. Gleve had put in a request to co-practice with his former Teacher, or if not that, at least be placed nearby. Sister Kendra, who chaired this year’s assignment committee, had frowned. “We will take Father Mallory’s wellbeing into account when we select a new Apprentice for him,” she had argued. “The need is not there in the forests and mountains of the Northlands; it’s in the other three Realms, where the People are.”

  It was not good to be Received with first anger and then sadness in his heart. Gleve tried to focus on the stars, on the drums and the chanting. He sought the peace that should usher him into his new place in the Healing Order.

  After the last chant of the Receiving Ceremony faded into the rafters of the Gathering Hall, Sister Kendra rose to read out the new Healer’s assignments. Gleve held his breath as she called the names of each newly Received Healer, sending him or her out into the Kingdoms, some to take up Healing practices from Old Ones who had retired or passed on, some to build cabins in areas where People had to travel too far to receive care.

  Finally her eyes focused on him and, amazingly, she smiled. “Brother Gleve,” she said. “You will return to Father Mallory’s cabin in the Northlands and practice jointly with him. Together you will teach the new Apprentice Lynna when she has finished her studies here at the School.”

  Gleve felt an explosion of delight and relief. It was not hard to pick out Lynna from the back seats across the Hall where the new Apprentices sat in a row together. She was the one that leaped to her feet with joy. Gleve stared at her in surprise. He had never noticed her before—why would he?—but now he saw that unmistakable fire in her eyes. She had a crush on him.

  Chapter 7: Mother Peg

  After the morning ritual the Old Ones liked to gather in front of the hearth in the Dining Hall, talk a little and drink a cup of sleeping tea before going to bed. On the morning of the Receiving Ceremony, only Sarah and Peg were present. “So, my friend,” Sarah said, looking sharply at Peg. “When are you going to bring Maida to be Received?”

  “Stop that.” Peg clattered her cup in her saucer. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

  “And you know I’m not teasing. That girl is as gifted as any Apprentice I’ve ever examined.”

  “Excuse me for saying it, old friend, but you’re losing it. That girl has no Healers in her lineage and will never be one, no matter what exceptions were made to give her an Examination.”

  “Excuse me for saying it, old friend.” Sarah managed to put acid into her words. “It is you who is losing it. Many exceptional Healers have no Healing lineage and besides, so much genealogical information was lost during the times of terror, who knows who has Healer in them and who doesn’t?”

  “She’s from a long line of cheesemakers.” Peg pounded the arm of her chair for emphasis. “She’s hauled I don’t know how many stones up from the creek to make a sink and cool room and a channel from the spring on the hillside into my kitchen. When she’s not making cheese, she’s packing half her garden into crocks. I live with a dripping mess most of the time.”

  “Stop complaining.” Sarah barked the words so loudly some of the Healers nearby turned to look.
“You eat better than anyone I know living away from the School. She feeds you, takes care of you, all to learn some Healing on the side. We should take that girl away from you, assign her to someone who will appreciate her and teach her.”

  “The girl makes good cheese. She’s a good gardener and cook and servant. SHE IS NOT A HEALER.” Now the whole Dining Hall fell silent. Kendra’s Apprentice, Sheil, rose to her feet and studied the two Old Ones for a moment. She took a step in their direction, then another.

  “Now we’ve created a commotion,” Sarah said.

  Peg rose to her feet, glared at Sheil. “Well I don’t know about you, but it’s past time I went to bed.” She left the hearth, thumping her cane loudly on the wooden floor.

  The ancient Rites celebrated each morning built up the Healing Power of those present. On the final morning, Spring Equinox itself, the climax of the Sunrise Prayer released the Healing Power out to the suffering Land, a Prayer for peace, wellbeing, and a return to happier times.

  Long before the procession to the cliffs to release the Healing, however, the Spring Equinox Ritual began with the Remembering, when the Old Ones recited, once again, the Story.

  The room was dim, the beams high above fading into darkness. Sparks rose from the Fire on the Hearth to the hole in the centre of the roof where a star or two peeked in. The benches were filled with Healers, women and men of all ages. They all knew the Story, but listened intently. This Ritual was the centre of their year, and the Story was the heart of the Ritual.

  The Oldest One present always began the recitation of the Story. Sarah was approaching her ninetieth year, but her voice was still strong and her memory flawless.

  “Once, before the time of our Grandmothers, the People lived peacefully and joyfully in this rich Land. People could go about their business during the day, work in the fields able to see what they were cutting, work in the gardens able to tell plant from weed, prune the fruit trees able to see clearly the final shape. The livestock could graze and the children could play in the sun. They say the People tanned dark brown and had rosy cheeks. They could build their homes in the open, handy to their fields and orchards.

  According to the stories, when a Dragon flew over, the People would shade their eyes and look up to see what colour it was, blue, green, red, bronze or gold, and admire the sparkle of sunlight on its scales.

  “There were three Orders to watch over the People: the Healers, the Leaders and the Dragon Priestesses.

  “The Healers cared for their bodies and spirits, discovering and sharing the knowledge the People needed to be strong and well.

  “The Leaders kept the Common Order, bringing the People together to discuss problems, resolve conflicts, make decisions and hold one another accountable for the Common Good.

  “The Dragon Priestesses cared for their Familiars, the Little Dragons. Through the Little Dragons, they could speak with the Great Dragons, and so they made and kept the Agreement.

  “According to the Agreement, the Dragon Priestesses kept large herds of fine cattle. Hungry Dragons could request one of these animals through the Little Dragons. The Dragon Priestesses would select the Sacrifice, and with great Ceremony lead it to a Feeding Place, respectfully take its Life, and leave it there for the Dragons’ meal.

  “Then, in our Grandparent’s time, the Kings came. The Kings do not understand the Common Order and the Common Good. They do what they like and take what they want. Lacking Respect for All Life, they kill whatever stands in their way.

  “The Kings follow the way of the sword. They thought they could protect their subjects from the Dragons by killing them. This they set out to do, and many Kings’ men died in the attempt. They also killed many of the People and took their lands and livestock. Above all, they killed the Dragon Priestesses and the Little Dragons. They coveted the power of the Priestesses without understanding it. They wanted their cattle and land, and to them, Little Dragons were Dragons all the same, to be killed for the safety of the People.”

  Sarah’s voice was fading. She nodded to Rob, who look up the story. “The Kings killed many Healers and Leaders as well, seeing all members of the Orders as rivals for the power they felt they must have over the People.

  “The Healers were saved by Sheena, may her name be remembered for all generations. A young Sister at the time, Sheena heard that the eldest son of mighty King Gallward was dying of a sword wound. Although she knew he might kill her on sight, and would certainly kill her if she failed, she went to Gallward and offered to heal his son. Desperate to save his heir, the King let her try. She called for any Healer in the district who would help her. Several came to her side—her teacher, Mother Nessa; Nessa’s teacher, Mother Jen, Sister Cath, Brother Gelas, and Apprentice Violet. May the names of these brave and skilled Healers be remembered for all generations.

  “They went to Gallward’s stronghold and worked day and night to heal the Prince. They bathed him and drew the sword-poison from his body with poultices. They trickled teas down his throat. At all times three of them kept vigil in Prayer Circle around him, holding his Spirit within his Body, feeding it with Earth Energy, until it began to respond.

  “With his son restored to him, Gallward decreed that no one would kill a Healer again. And so, our Order was saved. Many Leaders were saved as well, because they looked like Healers as far as the Kings’ People could tell. We took them in and sheltered them in our Order. Eventually the two Orders became one.

  “This was not possible, however, for the Dragon Priestesses, for how do you hide when you have a glittering blue, green, red, bronze or gold Little Dragon riding on your shoulder? Though the Healers pleaded with the Kings, they would not bend. They killed all the Dragon Priestesses, every one. To our eternal sorrow, their secrets went with them.

  “The Great Dragons loved the Little Dragons, for they are all kin despite the difference in size, and through them their mistresses, the Dragon Priestesses. The Great Dragons were angry, and came to hate all humans. They also had no one to feed them when they were hungry. If humans would not feed them in one way, they would feed them in another. And so began the Terror.”

  Rob turned and raised his eyebrows at Nell, who cleared her throat and picked up the tale. “Child and adult, man and woman, Kings’ People or People of the Land, cow, horse, goat, duck, dog, cat, chicken--nothing was safe from the Dragons. Any creature caught in the open in daylight, in field or yard, on boat or road, could suddenly find themselves in the shadow of a hunting Dragon and moments later, impaled by its cruel claws. People and animals alike screamed in fear and pain as they were carried away to be eaten in a Dragon-lair in the Mountains.

  “The People moved into the Forest for the safety of its leaves. Everyone learned to work and travel at night when the Dragons sleep in their craggy fasts. A land of plenty became a land of famine. The Kings’ bond-farmers were city people moved by force on to the Kings’ lands. They did not know much about farming in the first place and now had to learn to farm by night when the horse stumbles in front of the plough, wolves take the sheep from the pastures and foxes the chickens from the yard.

  “The People of the Land who survived the greed of the Kings farmed the rocky soil in the hills. They could now foray into their fields only in darkness to plant and weed by the faint light of their lanterns. No more livestock could be kept than could be sheltered in barns by day. People even kept their cows and goats in the kitchens of their cabins.

  As people learned to hide themselves and their animals from the Dragons, the terrible creatures vented their hunger and rage. They would descend and roar with their fire-breath, burning acres of crops and orchards into a charred desert. Many starved, especially among the People of the Land, because the Kings hunted out and hoarded what food there was.

  “We, the Remnant, have learned to survive. We grow what we can, hide what we can, and share all we have to stay alive. The Healers are sometimes given gifts of food for Healing the Kings’ People, and this we share as well. The Common
Good is still honoured among us.”

  Nell paused for breath. She looked to Peg. The young Healer beside Peg offered her arm. She took it, struggling to her feet and forcing her old knees to hold her. There was only a paragraph of the Story left, she grumbled to herself. Why did Nell decide to pass it on now? But she picked up the familiar narrative. “And so we remember. We remember the People and the Members of the Orders who died. We remember those brave Healers who allowed at least part of our Order and that of the Leaders to continue on. We remember the Little Dragons and pray to relearn the secrets of the Dragon Priestesses. If the Little Dragons still exist somewhere deep in the Mountains, we pray to find them and learn to speak with them and live with them again as Familiars.

  “We remember, and we pray.”

  With the young Healer’s help, Peg sat down, as all around her a soft chant began: “We remember, we remember, we remember, and we pray …”

  After greeting the first signs of pre-dawn, releasing their Healing Energy to the Land, and closing the Ritual back in the Gathering Space, the Healers returned to the Dining Hall where large pots of grain and vegetable stew sat on the warm Hearth. It was still called the Feast, although it was a thin shell of the Feasts of old.

  The Old Ones sat together, Sarah and Peg as far apart as possible, waiting to be served. Tess looked around at the remnant of her generation. “I have to ask,” she said. “Do you think the Little Dragons still exist?”

  “According to my Mother’s stories, the Little Dragons were exquisitely beautiful, and only three or four feet long, even when they were full-grown,” said Father Rob.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, Rob,” Mother Peg snapped. “We all know that.”

  There was a minute of tense silence. Nell broke it, glancing at Peg. “When I heard that old Anglewart sent men into the Mountains, I hoped so much that we would hear that they at least caught sight of a Little Dragon.” A young women listening to conversation giggled, probably shocked by Nell calling the powerful King “old Anglewart.”