Dragon's Keep (13 page)

I held my reins, gave
Rollo a pat, and watched the first beams
of
sunlight winking on the lake.

"You're of an age
to marry now," continued Father as we rode
on. "I wed your mother at sixteen. But we're still waiting on Empress
Matilda. Merlin's prophecy rests heavy on us."

"It may be the saving of Wilde Island has nothing to do with marriage."

Father pulled Crispin to a halt. "What?
You think never to marry, a beautiful maid like you? It would be a sin."

His words were fresh as
bellows to dormant coals. And a little
hope-fire
kindled in my chest.

"You'll have Prince
Henry. Only the best will wed my Rosie."
Then booting Crispin, he raced along the shore, the reeds swaying as
he passed, like slender pilgrims bowing to their lord.

The breeze picked up as we skirted Lake Ailleann where the water shone blue as a giant's tear, with God's Eye in the middle.
God's Eye seemed a somber place to me, it being the last vestige of what Wilde Island had once been six hundred years ago when Merlin took a year of silence there.

I'd wondered when I was
small if my destiny to restore Wilde
Island
's place under the sun, as Merlin predicted, meant
to return it to its magic days, and I'd asked Marn about it. "Ah, poppet,
you're a dreamer," she said to me. "It's sure the isle is swathed
with
a great many healing herbs from its magic days. But now it's
trodden down with all manner of men. The wild beasts
will not speak to us as they did in Saint Columba's time. Nor will the water
sprites or fairies come out. They've all run skitter-tail from us. And it's not
likely they'll return."

I slowed Rollo to a trot. Above us the sky
was pearled with small white clouds. The newly risen sun beamed over the earth,
and as I looked to the water, it seemed the magic was not gone
but dozing like a sleepy child that would one day
leap up, as a tot
does from her slumber, and greet the world again. I
dreamed of this as I rode behind Father, the larks high in the alders calling
down to us as we rounded the lake.

Lake
Ailleann
lapped lazy as a dog's tongue on the shore as we
wandered to the place where the yarrow moths were waking. We watched them break
apart their waxen tombs one by one and struggle out. All the while Father
stroked his beard and said, "Look ye, Rosie.
Out of
death to life."
And I crossed myself as I watched a moth creep from
her shroud, unfurl her yellow wings, and flit skyward.

Father traipsed through the rushes and picked
up a stone.
"Come closer by the
water," he called, "and make a wish, my girl."

I followed to the
water's edge, chose a round rock the small of
a sparrow's lay, and looked out to Lake Ailleann where the ripples
whispered one to
another. I knew if I could have my wish, I'd bring Marn back from her drowning
death, rescue Kit from the nunnery, and go herbing in the woods with them
forever. Marn would stoop in the cool shade calling, "Ah, here's a rue
plant, dears. Sniff the leaves and your head will clear in love matters."

I turned the stone over in my glove.

"You think too long," said Father.
"Make a wish," he said, closing his eyes. "Toss the rock."
He tossed his. "And be done."

I closed my eyes, tossed the stone, and saw
neither Marn nor Kit behind my eyelids, but the image of a lover with his arms

about
me. In that vision my hand was fully healed, my
finger
shone pink as a rose petal. And I
saw my gloves fall away like torn
cocoons the yarrow moths had left
behind.

We left Lake Ailleann, skirted the woods, and
rode up Twisters Hill. There on the windy cliffs Father pulled Crispin to a
halt and strained forward.

"A ship," he called through the
swirling wind. And as soon
as he said the
words, the chapel bells rang out six times across the
valley.

"Something is wrong," said Father.
"See how the ship is listing to the left?"

I held my gloved hand to my eyes to shield
out the sun and saw the ship tilting to the side, its sails fluttering small as
moth wings.

"She may sink!" said Father. Off we
rode to Dentsmore. Father galloped past the cottages, calling all the boatmen
out. None had been to fish that day, it being Sunday and what some womenfolk
called "my good man's day-o'-slumber."

I waited on shore with the other women whilst
Father and the fishermen leaped to their boats. Many were still clad in their
nightshirts, Father having called them from their beds.

As the boats pulled away
the women crowded on the docks to call, "Not too far out!
It
be
a Sunday!" And,
"Heed the warning waves, my dear!"

Sheb Kottle stumbled out of The Pig and
Thistle, late to the news of the listing ship, but early with dire warnings.
Padding to the dock he called, "She'll sink before you reach her!" And
though the men on the Dentsmore boats were too far out by

then
to hear him, he went on. "She's sure to be a
serpent's supper! Daft fools! I say turn back, afore ye all go down
together!"

Kitty Wells, whose man was on a boat, took up
a shank of driftwood and whacked Sheb Kottle on the head. He left off his
predictions but set to moaning like a wraith, which spread the fear all round.

Standing apart from the others, I looked
straight into the
wind, myself unsettled as
my father's boat reached the larger ves
sel. By now the broad white
sails tipped sharply. I thought sure the ship would tumble over and go down a
moment after. The craft did not topple as I feared but, escorted by the
Dentsmore boats, slowly headed for the harbor. I could not see what set the
ship a-kilter till they came closer in.

A carriage arrived. Hearing the chapel bells,
Mother had come to greet the ship, surrounded by her castle escort. She called
me from the shore but I stayed on the creaking dock. I meant to stand there
until Father's boot was safely on the dock again, for the tilting ship, growing
ever larger as it neared the shore, gave me a sense of foreboding.

"Ah! They've
caught a whale," called Kitty, waving the drift
wood above her head.

"Nay!
Not a whale," called Mavis.
"But
a serpent sure!"

I shielded my eyes and looked out. There,
lashed to the side of the vessel, cresting and bobbing in the sea, was the
thing that
had nearly sunk the ship. First
I saw its giant head, hanging limp, snout down in the sea. Then I saw the
blue-green scales across its
back glinting in the water. Blood washed
from the deep gash in its side.

"Dragon!" shouted Sir Allweyn,
running down the dock.

"
it's
dead and
conquered!"

"We are free!" shouted the people
on shore.

Suddenly everyone was dancing: Jane with
Kitty, Sal with
Jossie,
Sheb
Kottle with himself. Then Jossie Brummer threw her
arms around me,
shouting and jumping as if a mouse were in her kirtle. She spun me round and
round in a jig, till the sea and sky were all one color. All the while I reeled,
joy and loathing mixed strangely in my heart.

Mother flurried onto the dock arm in arm with
Sir Richmond and Sir Kimball.

"This will be a day of celebration for
all Wilde Islanders!" she cried, and she herself twirled round on the dock
with Sir Richmond.

By the time the ships reached us, we were all
a-scuttle to the tune of "Hey Diddle Da," pipes tooting, drums
pounding, and children singing all out of tune. By now I was swept into the joy
of the dragon s death and had put away the strange sorrow I first felt when I
saw the beast.

Father hopped onto the docks and wrestled
Mother away from Sir Richmond. Fairly pushing the knight into the water, he
kissed Mother there and then in front of
all the
world.

The villagers shouted and clapped as the
sailors hopped down to tie the galleon to the docks. Then, herding all but the
royal family back to the shore, the fishermen set to work cutting the ropes
away from the dragon.

I could see only the snout, the beast being
on the far side of
the ship. I stood close
to Father as the captain, dressed grandly in

a
torn cape and bloody clothes, stepped down to greet
the king and queen. He doffed his hat to the cheering crowd on the beach, and
bowed to Mother and Father.

'I am Lord Godrick," he said. "I've
come with greetings from Empress Matilda." And Mother swooned.

It was too much for Mother to have in the
same day the downing of her mortal foe and greetings from Empress Matilda.
Here was the captain of Matilda's ship, come to Wilde Island to pay homage to
its king and queen, to invite the princess to Matilda's court—and strapped to
his vessel, our mortal enemy, slain.

When Mother woke from her swoon she ordered a
banquet brought from the castle to the very beach where we stood. There
with billowing flags and bonfires we would
celebrate our victory
over the dragon.

The boatmen tugged the dragon to shore. The
music ceased. The only drumming now was the surf itself, pulling and pushing
against the dead beast, washing over white then swirling pink with dragon's
blood.

A youth with eighteen years
or so on him came down the plank and stood beside me on the dock.
He was of high rank,
dressed as richly as Lord Godrick. His hair was black and his skin
a rich brown, yet his eyes were blue. I'd never
seen dark and light
so finely combined in one person.

By now the fishermen had laid the creature on
the sand. Waves swept up to meet the beast, which lay head-to-tail the length
of the ship that brought her in.

"It's a female!" shouted Sam
Denkle, wringing out his wet nightshirt.

"Ah, it couldn't be!" called Sir
Richmond, then coming round front of her, he laughed. "Why, so it
is!"

All seemed aghast at this, but I knew this
news already, having faced the dragon once on Morgesh Mountain.

My tongue went of a sudden dry as I looked on
our mortal enemy. Ropes still wrapped about her, she lay tousled as a gown
thrown on the floor. Her golden throat and underbelly gashed, her eye half open
to the sun showing the black slit pupil and the
yellow iris blooming out from it. The
dragons
neck was strangely
twisted like a tumble of seaweed
on
the
sand. And I thought as I looked at her how someone should take the time to
right her head.

"Come, Rosalind!" I heard the fear
in Mothers voice but I held my place.

Townsfolk were gathering a distance from the corpse.
Even in her death the dragon had a power that struck coldness to the bone. Salt
wind stung my cheeks. I could not take my eyes from her to come away as Mother
wished. Here was the monster who had year
on year
consumed our noblest
knights. Here was the dragon
who'd
streaked our sky
bloodred.
Burned our cottages.
Feasted
on my people.
Stolen Magda.
Captured me, and
kissed my claw.

"Sad," said the youth beside me.

I drew back. "Sad? Her death is Wilde Island's greatest victory!"

He crossed his arms and turned to face me,
his dark hair

blowing
across his eyes. "It's good we killed the
monster, then," he said, frowning.

Lord Godrick marched down the pier and
slapped him on the back. "It's our best victory, Kye," he said. Then
turning to me, he doffed his hat. "Princess Rosalind, meet my son, the
dragonslayer."

Kye bowed and his father smiled. I cast my
eyes downward then and saw a thing that sickened me. Hanging from Lord
Godrick's side was a fearsome weapon. Not a dagger as any man
would have, nor a sword, though just as long, but
a severed claw,
green-scaled and curving down to a sharp black talon.

"Rosalind," Mother called again.
"We'll return here soon enough!"

I fled the dock. I was so unbalanced over his
trophy; the
boards seemed to totter under
my feet like a ship's deck. I'd heard of dragonslayers sporting a severed claw
in the dragon wars. And I'd seen many a man waving a bloody boar's tusk above
his head,
or riding home with a stag's antlers strapped tightly to his
stallion after a day's kill, but this prize haunted me.

Steadying myself, I
walked as nobly as I could to Rollo, held
his
mane, and lay my head against his strong neck.

"Ride with
me," said Mother, opening her carriage door. "Sir
Richmond will lead your horse back home."

I kissed Rollo's soft
neck and breathed his sweet grass smell
before
giving him to Sir Richmond. Then into the carriage I
crawled. Door shut, we quit the harbor and bumped along Kings-
way
toward the castle.

"It's all come to pass," said
Mother merrily. "With the