dragon archives 02 - pursued by a dragon (10 page)

“Dragons aren’t real.”

Favian leaned in towards her until his face was only a few inches from hers.

“Yes, they are,” he said, his tone gentle. He glanced back up at the circling figure, his jaw clenching as it dropped lower. As she watched, the creature looked down at them, and she gasped as she saw that Favian had been telling the truth. The creature circling above them was certainly no bird. As if to confirm this realization, the dragon opened its mouth and spewed flames into the air around it. Cathryn cringed back.

“That’s a dragon,” she whispered, her eyes wide as she stared at the creature above them. Her heart was pounding as she pushed herself to her feet with suddenly clammy hands, and a wave of nausea rolled over her. “We must get away before it eats us!” She looked around wildly, trying to locate the route they had taken to get to the top of the rock, but before she moved, Favian was on his feet. He grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him.

“Cathryn, we are not in any danger.” She was trembling beneath his hands as she looked at him with incomprehension.

“We’ve got to get away,” she repeated, pulling herself free from his grasp. Once more he grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her around to face him. She struggled against his hold, and he shook her gently.

“Cathryn,” he said. He tightened his grip as she continued to struggle. “Cathryn,” he repeated, his tone sharp, adding gently when she finally looked up at him, “we are not in any danger, I give you my word.” She stared at him as the words slowly penetrated through her fear.

“How can you say that?” she demanded. “Look at that creature.” She glanced back up to look at the dragon, still circling in the air above them. The light glanced off its scales, making it glow gold. “They breathe fire. And have horrible claws and tails. And they eat people.”

“A short while ago you didn’t even believe dragons existed, and now you are sure he wants to kill and eat you!” Favian looked at her incredulously. “Cathryn, dragons have lived around these lands for centuries, and never once has someone living here been in danger from them. You are perfectly safe. I will not allow any harm to come to you.”

“Are you telling me that dragons don’t eat people?” she demanded. Favian glanced away, his face troubled.

“I cannot make that assertion,” he admitted. “Dragons sometimes do eat people, but I assure you, you are in no danger from this dragon. I will not allow you to come to any harm.”

“What can you do against a dragon? Do you breathe fire? Do you have thick, scaly skin? Are you carrying a sword or spear with which to maim it? No! If that dragon chose to attack us, you would be just as vulnerable as me!” As though to give credence to her words, the dragon above gave out a mighty roar before spewing out a long, steady stream of flame. Sparks fell to the ground around them as they both looked up. Cathryn’s face reflected her fear, but Favian glared at the creature in anger for a long moment, his eyes locking with the beast's.

“You have made your point,” he said to the creature, “now leave us be!” More flames spewed from the mouth of the monster as a sound suspiciously like laughter floated down. Cathryn had broken free from Favian’s grasp, and was scrabbling on the rocky path when Favian looked back down. Suppressing a sigh, he sprung down from the rock, landing gracefully on his feet ten feet below.

“Give me your hand,” he said, stepping up on the first rock and reaching up. Cathryn looked down at him in surprise.

“How —?”

“I jumped. Now give me your hand.” Cathryn tentatively lifted her hand from the rock she was leaning against and bent down to place it in Favian’s, gasping when he pulled her with a jerk and caught her flying into his arms. He set her down on her feet, holding her shoulders until she regained her equilibrium.

“That was not necessary,” she said sharply.

“I thought I would hasten your descent,” he said, a slight smile playing on his lips. “You seemed anxious to get away from this place.” Cathryn ground her teeth in annoyance, before marching towards the trees.

“This way,” said Favian, catching up and placing his hand on her elbow. He glanced up at the sky once more before entering the shade of the leafy canopy, and moved ahead of Cathryn, leading the way through the mass of trees with long, intent strides. He walked in silence, glancing upwards occasionally, a frown furrowing his brow. They had reached the far edge of the woods before Favian slowed his pace, and he glanced over his shoulder at her before moving out into the open.

“Wait,” she said. Favian paused to look back at her again. “Why are you so irate?”

“I must beg your forgiveness, Cathryn. I realize I am behaving with incredible rudeness, which you do not deserve.”

“Of course,” said Cathryn, “but are you angry at the dragon? You assured me that it was not a danger, and how can you be angry at a mindless beast?”

Favian laughed, a dry rasp that lacked all humor, but did not answer as Cathryn watched him thoughtfully.

“You don’t consider it a mindless beast, do you?” she said slowly. “You believe it is capable of thought and intent — that the stories of the dragon’s cunning and wile are true, then.”

Favian glanced down at her, then looked away.

“No,” he said, “you are right. The creature is just a mindless beast.” He looked back at her. “We need to cross the wilderness to reach the house, but please do not be afraid. There is no danger from the dragon.”

“Of course,” said Cathryn, stepping out ahead of him. She glanced nervously up at the sky, but all she saw were a few white scuds of cloud. There was a pathway a little to the right, and she headed towards it, turning her direction towards the house in the distance, its' yellow stone gleaming in the sunlight. She heard Favian fall into step behind her as she walked. A bend in the path took them behind a cluster of trees, and as she rounded it, she was greeted by the sight of a fire up ahead, the gardener tossing piles of weeds onto the flames. She headed over to the blaze.

“Good afternoon,” she said to the man.

"Mistress," the man greeted. He looked over her shoulder as Favian came up behind her. “Master,” he said with a nod.

"You must have a lot to burn today," she said with a smile.

"Mistress?"

"I saw another fire closer to the house earlier."

“Wasn't me, Mistress. Wouldn’t want'ta build a fire too close to the house,” he said. “The wind could blow sparks onto the roof, you see.”

“Oh." Cathryn turned to Favian. "I know I saw another fire. It was behind the bushes where you were talking with Aaron. You must have seen it."

“Perhaps it was a dragon,” the gardener said over his shoulder, turning back to the pile of dead rubbish.

“A dragon?” Cathryn turned a questioning look at Favian, who was staring at the gardener in stony silence. “Could it have been the dragon?”

“Did you see a dragon near the house?” he asked her, his eyes still eyeing the gardener narrowly.

“Well, no,” she admitted.

“Then there is your answer. Come, let’s go.” He gestured with his hand for her to lead the way, following close behind when she did so. They walked in silence, and when they reached the house, Favian stopped.

“There is something I need to attend to, so I will ask you to excuse me. I believe my mother will have returned by now, and will be glad of your company.” He gave her a brief smile before turning on his heel and striding away in the direction they had just come. Cathryn watched his retreating figure, sighing in frustration. The day seemed to be presenting a lot of questions, but absolutely no answers.

Chapter 17 

Margaret was in the parlor, working on her needlepoint when Cathryn returned to the house. Taking a seat across from her, Cathryn took a moment to enquire after the patient.

“I think she will make a full recovery,” Margaret said. “I gave her a tonic that will help relieve the pain and reduce the fever.”

Cathryn nodded before continuing.

“Thank you for the lovely hairpin,” she said.

“Hairpin?” said Margaret.

“Yes, look,” said Cathryn, turning her head to show her the lovely piece. She turned back with a smile. “Favian said that you instructed him to give it to me.”

“Ah, yes, of course! How forgetful I am becoming. You are most welcome, my dear.” She met Cathryn’s grin with a bland expression. “How was your afternoon?” she enquired.

“Interesting,” said Cathryn. “Favian joined me as I was walking in the woods.” She paused a moment. “We saw a dragon,” she added.

“Ouch, look at that!” exclaimed Margaret, pulling a bleeding finger away from her work. “How careless of me.”  Laying the canvas aside, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed the tiny wound. “A dragon, did you say?”

“Yes,” said Cathryn. “I didn’t even believe dragons existed before today. It seemed to make Favian very angry, however.”

“He was probably concerned about the flocks,” said Margaret, examining her finger closely.

“Maybe,” said Cathryn, her tone doubtful. She watched Margaret as she continued to dab at her finger, her attention focused on the tiny puncture, before finally putting the handkerchief aside and picking up her needlepoint once more.

“Do you fear the dragon?” Cathryn asked.

“Fear it? No. The dragons around here would never intentionally hurt someone at Drake Manor.”

“Dragons? How many are there?”

“I meant dragon, of course. Just one.”

“So would the dragon hurt someone beyond Drake Manor?”

Margaret laid her needlepoint aside with a sigh, and looked at Cathryn.

“There is no need to fear the dragon, Cathryn. It will not hurt you.”

“But how do you know that? It is a wild beast.”

“You need to trust me when I say there is nothing to fear. I can say no more.” Cathryn stared at Margaret as she picked up her needlepoint once more. She felt more confused than ever, and after another few minutes she excused herself and headed to her room.

Cathryn did not see Favian again that evening, and after a quiet meal, she retired to her room, pleading a headache. It had been a confusing, exhausting day, bringing with it a host of questions that remained unresolved, and she felt quite overwrought. She longed for the peace of a restful slumber, but sleep eluded her, and as the hours passed, she tossed and turned in her bed. She was still awake when Margaret and Owain climbed the stairs, their voices muted. They passed her room and moments later she heard the soft clicking of the door to their chambers.

Still later she heard other footsteps mount the stairs. They stopped outside her door, and she held her breath, listening. She thought she heard a hand laid gently on the door, but couldn’t be sure, and a few moments later the person moved away, their footsteps fading down the passage.

She listened as the house creaked and groaned, settling itself for the night, before finally growing quiet as the servants found their pallets in the hall below and settled down to sleep. She heard an owl hooting in a tree near her window, and she shivered, remembering the night she had walked with her father from the Bradshaws’. Was there a dragon in the alley that night? she wondered. The questions kept coming as the events of the day slipped through her exhausted mind, mulling around like the ingredients in a witches’ brew, conjuring uncanny thoughts but bringing no answers.

The sky was already starting to lighten when she finally fell into a restless sleep, the thoughts pursuing her into her dreams. She was trapped, surrounded by flames while overhead a dragon was roaring, flying closer and closer in tight circles, its claws extended as it neared her. There was no escape from the flames, and she looked around in terror. Beyond the flames stood Aaron and Favian, one on either side. “Favian,” she cried out, “help me.” He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, and looked at her with an odd mixture of pity and disdain. “Help me,” she cried again, and watched in horror as he opened his mouth and breathed out a stream of flames that added to her prison. She turned in terror and saw Aaron watching her, a cruel smile on his face. He stood with his arms at his sides, and throwing his head back, breathed out his own stream of flame. Above them the dragon looked down and met Aaron’s flames with his own, creating a massive wall that reached high into the sky. She saw Favian walk around to Aaron, and heard the words
my brother
, his fiery laugh joining with Aaron’s as they both stared at her. She shrank back, away from the heat, and collapsed onto the cold ground, shivering. She rolled herself tightly into a small ball and covered her head with her hands, crying for mercy, but instead all she heard was the sound of cruel laughter and the stamping of feet, pounding the ground. The stamping grew louder, a hammering that finally penetrated through the dreadful images that had taken hold of her mind, and she realized that she was lying on the cold stone floor of her bedroom while a fist pounded on the door.

“Cathryn,” she heard Margaret call out. “Cathryn, are you all right?”

It was just a dream, she thought to herself. She pushed herself up to her knees before slowly rising to her feet. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and she scrubbed them with her hands. She heard Margaret calling again.

“Coming,” she said, her voice a broken whisper. “Coming,” she said again. She pulled her wrap over her shoulders and opened the door. At the sight of her, Margaret grabbed her hands in relief.

“Are you all right, my dear? We heard you cry out, and I’ve been pounding on the door for nigh on five minutes.”

“Yes,” said Cathryn wearily, “just a bad dream.” She saw Margaret look down the passage and nod her head, and she leaned forward to see who was there, drawing back in embarrassment when she saw Favian and Owain standing in the passage, their faces etched with concern. Turning her around, Margaret led Cathryn to the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Margaret asked gently.

“Not really,” said Cathryn. “I was dreaming about dragons … and fire.”

“Ah,” said the older woman. “I heard you call for Favian.”

“He did not help,” replied Cathryn, dully. Margaret watched her for a moment.