At that, Mary laughed. “I’ve never seens you decent, Matteo Ricci.”
“That’s not true.” He was decent every day. She didn’t know what she was looking at.
“Mary,” Cook called. “Where are you, girl?”
“Coming.” Mary scooped up the bucket and dashed out of the room. “See you at the dinners bells.” She tossed the words over her shoulder as she disappeared around the corner.
Once she had gone, Matteo dressed quickly. He could hear their cow, Daisy, lowing in her stall. The stable hands would have already led her into the barn so he could milk her. He needed to hurry. Cook would want the milk for Mistress’ morning meal.
He had no choice but to rush through his scheduled tasks and head to Hillcrest. Destiny waited for him outside the city’s walls.
Awake
Rivenbourne Township
The Master’s Estate
Matteo tapped Daisy’s rump as she chewed on a bit of hay left over from last harvest. They rationed it carefully—she received five handfuls each morning. Then she would be prayerfully turned out on withered pastures. Matteo hoped she would grow as fat as she could despite the drought.
“Good girl.” He spoke quietly to her as he milked her, comforted by her warmth in the morning chill. The tusk bumped against his hip as he worked. He’d used a frayed bit of string to tie it to his belt, and its presence made him less frightened than he’d been before.
Daisy didn’t like many people, but she cooperated with him. She provided cream and butter for the house. As long as she produced well, she would avoid the butcher’s knife. Daisy seemed to like Mary, and Matteo hoped the cow would let Mary take on the task.
Mary appeared at the end of the stall, her smile bright and her cheeks rosy. “Is it ready? Cook’s in a moods today.”
“Just finished,” Matteo said, drawing down once more with each hand. Daisy stomped her back foot. She was tired of waiting to see her calf. He stood and then lifted the wooden pail and handed it to the waiting Mary. She took the bucket and started down the aisle between the stalls and back toward the kitchens.
Matteo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Now or never. “If anything ever happens to me,” he said, “promise me that you’ll take care of my Daisy. She won’t let just anybody else milk her. I want you to take care of her.” Matteo spoke to Mary’s back as he smoothed his hand over Daisy’s flank.
Mary turned back slowly, pivoting on her heel, careful not to spill the precious liquid she carried. Her smile disappeared. “What would happen to you, Matteo?” The inner portion of her eyebrows turned up, meeting in a wrinkle.
Matteo peered at her, unsure what to say. The moment stretched. “I don’t know. Things happen,” he offered finally. The reason sounded flimsy as soon as he said it. He tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace on his face. “Promise me?”
“I promise.” She drew out the words and stared at him for a moment before returning to her task.
Matteo turned to Daisy’s lead rope and pushed against her withers. She ambled out of the stall and turned the opposite direction from that which Mary had gone. Daisy had gone this way so often that she led Matteo. She wanted to see her little one.
As the pair rounded the edge of the barn, Daisy lowed to her pied calf, waiting behind the gate. The baby was smaller than any other bull calf Matteo had seen. If Daisy couldn’t produce enough milk to feed him and give enough milk for the house, the Master might choose to butcher the calf.
Matteo rubbed the velvet nose of the moon-marked face, and the calf leaned into it. His other hand drifted over the tusk. “I hope you survive, boy. I hope we all do.” To survive, the rains would need to come soon to refresh the pasture grasses and turn them green. Even if rain came in the next few days, it might still be too late to save anyone. Matteo undid the latch, and Daisy lumbered inside.
The orange hen darted by, and Matteo chased after her. He would catch her, drop her back in the coop yard, gather her eggs, muck Daisy’s stall, and finally be on his way to Hillcrest.
A rumble shook the ground. Matteo lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and stared toward the mountains. Thunder did not come from a cloudless sky. He sighed. That meant only one thing.
The dragon is awake.
In the Moment
Rivenbourne Township
Hillcrest
Matteo crept along the inside of the city’s outermost stone wall. Every few steps, he stopped beneath the darkened skies. Clouds billowed on the horizon like warriors preparing for battle. The quakes had increased in frequency, but the dragon had not yet shown its scales.
A foul wind spiced with sulfur blew through the town. The ground shook, and a rumble rolled through the stones and up through Matteo’s legs until his heart quivered in his chest. His mouth dried. His hand drifted over the ivory tusk of the Breidbore bear and a short segment of cord, both tied to his waist.
The empty streets chilled his blood and dried his mouth, souring the morning’s meager meal. The nightmares played again in his mind, and he stumbled in front of the grocer’s. As he climbed to his feet, he saw the grocer’s daughter peering out beneath the corner of a curtain, her eyes wide and as frightened as he felt. A hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back into the hidden parts of her home.
Almost to the city gate, doors of homes stood open, as though the inhabitants had vanished in the middle of their normal days. All he had to do was trip the gate and slip through before it closed. It didn’t matter if he could get back in. He wouldn’t need to.
The gargantuan wooden gate stood wide open. If it had been closed, iron cross pieces held the thick slats together with the force of a giant, but what good was an open barrier?
Matteo’s mouth twisted. It was no doubt an instruction left behind by the town mayor—a provisional measure for a selfish man at the cost of the town. The mayor imagined himself safe if only the dragon would consume the town.
Soft years make weak men, but a boy shall lead them all.
He tugged the ivory tusk from his belt. The frayed tassel fell across the back of his hand, a soft sensation in the middle of the tumult inside him. The old woman’s promise took the place of the nightmares.
It will keep you safe from dragon magic, Matteo. Use it when you meet your moment.
The ground shook beneath him again and again. The steps of fate were heavy on the hills.
Matteo frowned. The footfalls had stopped, but women wailed and babies cried out.
A hush descended.
A screech filled the air, the depth and breadth of it drowned out the world, and a shadow blocked out the sun. He wanted to drop to his knees and press his hands over his eardrums. The sound nearly sent him back to the straw mat in the larder. A winged silhouette crossed over him, and the stench of brimstone filled the air. The fell beast had come.
His moment was upon him.
He looped the short cable around the gate lever and walked through the opening, keeping the end tight in his hand. He took a deep breath and pulled on the rope.
The city gate slammed behind him, sealing his fate.
Matteo’s knees shook. His throat worked. Bile hit the back of his throat, and he clamped his mouth closed. Spots danced at the edges of his vision.
He could run back to the gate and scream until they let him in. The Master would hear him. He would tell them to open the gate. Matteo shook his head and straightened his shoulders.
The creature circled once and then landed on the crest of the grassy hill in front of Rivenbourne. Sunlight shimmered across its scales in myriad iridescent greens and blues and blacks. Great and terrible. It sniffed the barren ground in the corrals. For hundreds of years, livestock had been offered there, but both were empty.
The dragon screeched at the sky and then sent plumes of fire far overhead, so tall it reminded Matteo of an exploding mountain. After a moment, the beast directed the destruction at one wooden pen. Within moments, the enclosure dissolved in ash.
Even as far away as Matteo was, the flames warmed his cheeks. Overhead, he heard a scuffle. Men yelled to one another. And then someone he didn’t recognize cried his name. He pressed his palms together.
The dragon turned to face him, eyes as bright as the forger’s fire. Matteo’s mouth dried, and he froze, his confidence withering in the heat of the beast’s gaze. A shake of the giant, horned head, and the creature turned toward the second empty pen. It took a deep breath and blew flames over the planks, but it shuddered and the fire stuttered, winking out before the blaze devoured the second pen.
“Matteo,” Mary screamed from the top of the wall. “What ares you doing? Come home. The soldiers will let you in.”
Matteo glanced up, but he couldn’t see her. He bolted forward and then spun toward her, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Mary. Go home. Take care of Daisy. Keep the calf alive until it rains.”
“Come home, Matteo.” Her voice broke at the end.
“I cannot. This is my moment.” Matteo waved to her and offered a smile. He hoped she couldn’t see how it shook. Mary pressed her hands over her face and then crumpled down behind the parapet. Two soldiers dragged her into the tower at the corner.
“Don’t let her watch him eat me!” Matteo bellowed, but the men-at-arms didn’t answer, and Mary disappeared from view.
Behind him, the dragon hissed.
Companion
Rivenbourne Township
Hillcrest
The man-child straightened his shoulders and came nearer as though he didn’t feel the fear-stench that filled the serpent’s nostrils. Dragon stomped the ground to watch the boy flinch. He shrank away as all the others did on this day, but there was something about him that reminded the dragon of…
The boy stopped where his front claws scratched a groove in the ground. “Happy Dragon Day, beast,” he said, holding up his hands. “My name is Matteo, and I have come to offer myself in place of the village. Please eat me.”
The loneliness in Dragon’s belly urged him toward the boy, but he held back. The bargainer was only a child, unable to bear the weight of friendship with a beast of Dragonkind.
And yet…
The youngling strode toward Dragon as though the nobility of the Master of the Keep coursed through his veins.
Dragon licked his teeth until the points dripped with saliva. Hunger yawned in his belly. Horse, mutton, and beef—he had been promised his fill of food. Loneliness grew fat on the emptiness, the absence of connection.
“Are you delicious, boy?” The rumble of the dragon’s voice in his head made the boy’s eyes go wide. The creature’s breath ruffled his hair, but he did not shy away.
Matteo lifted his chin slightly. “I am scrawny, I’m afraid. Hard work has made me so, but I go willingly into your belly.” His gaze narrowed. “Though, I have one request.”
Dragon leaned close. “What’s that?”
“Please do not bite me two when you consume me. I’d rather go down in one piece.” Matteo made a face and then swallowed, contorting his neck like a chicken swallowing a meal too large.
Dragon nearly laughed. Matteo was shorter than one of Dragon’s irises, but he faced him with the bravery of a battle-hardened man.
Dragon sat back on his rear legs, settled on the ground, and then crossed his front legs. “What makes you think you’re enough to take the place of what has been promised? Do you make any other requests?”
Matteo drew himself to his full height. “It’s true that I may not be enough to fill your belly, but I would ask that you do not kill the villagers to feed yourself. I offer myself as payment of Rivenbourne’s Dragon Day debt. Rain will come, and they will feed you more next year. For today, I ask you to spare them.” He held out his hands once more, entreating. His face held no malice, no hint of regret or bitterness.
Matteo’s soul shone in the dragon’s mind like a diamond worth hoarding. His loneliness reached for the child once more, but the boy drew back, studying the reptile from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail. Matteo had courage in him, of a kind the dragon hadn’t expected to meet again. Perhaps Matteo could heal the crack in the fiery beast’s heart.
Matteo frowned and laid a hand on the plates beneath the dragon’s eye. “Are you so starved that you are shrinking, dragon?” He waved to the hills that surrounded them. “I’m sure there are creatures enough for eating. I can even show you where there are pack horses and mules.”
“Why would you do this?”
“To spare my village.”
“I could devour you and then eat your people.”
He tilted his head. “I don’t think you will.”
“How can you know?”
Matteo’s eyes widened. “Something in you reminds me of Daisy. She dislikes cruel men, but she is gentle towards Mary, even though Mary tugs too hard when she milks. Daisy is a stubborn cow, but she’s good-hearted.” He jerked his hand away and clamped it over his mouth as though too many words had spilled from his lips.
Dragon tapped a toe on the ground; the long claw gouged the earth. “It’s the dragon magic, boy. It pulls truth from the hearts of all men so I can know the ambitions in their souls.” The boy had shown a loyalty that had already seeped between Dragon’s scales.
“The old woman said this—” Matteo held up a white crescent shape “—would protect me.” He dropped the tusk on the dirt beside him, sending a little burst of ash upward. “I think she knows less about dragons as she thinks she does.”
Dragon stared at the ivory. His tooth. From years and years before. Had the she-mage given it to him?
“Who gave you this, Matteo?”
“A very old woman in the market. Her name is Sahar. She sells magical baubles, and she followed me to give me this.” He frowned. “She said it fulfilled a vow.”
As easily as that, Matteo charmed Dragon, and Dragon’s hunger had abated in the boy’s presence. The searing pain in his firebox had also lessened. The she-mage had given Matteo his tooth.
What if Matteo was a Dragon-friend? What if Matteo could end the years of solitude? Hope exploded in Dragon’s firebox.
Rearing back onto his hind legs, Dragon stretched his wings above them, and someone screamed on the castle wall. Dragon scooped the boy into his claws and leapt into the sky.
To his surprise, Matteo did not beg. He did not cry. He made no sound at all.
Bravery
Hatred Caves
The Barren
Instead of eating Matteo, Dragon deposited him at the mouth of a cave and landed beside him.
Matteo struggled to find his footing on the loose shale incline. A large rock slipped out from beneath his heel and tumbled down the slope. He pitched forward to land on his knees instead of his back. Sharp points gouged his kneecaps and his shins.
Cautiously, Matteo climbed to his feet, steadied himself against the mouth of the cavern, and studied his surroundings. He had to be sure Mary was safe. He had to find a way to make the dragon promise.
“Where are we? Is this the Barren?” He limped across the small clearing and stopped at the beast’s side. A rumble vibrated beneath Matteo’s palm. “Will you let Rivenbourne live?”
Dragon leaned closer. Its slit eyes glowed, and the pain disappeared from Matteo’s legs. He gaped at the behemoth. The villagers said the great serpent lived in the Hatred Caves, hidden away from men, but that cave system was in the Barren. Matteo studied the green trees, laden with nuts. Rainberry bushes surrounded them, covered in bright blue flowers. It would soon be time to harvest the delicious yield. Cook made Mary’s favorite jelly from them.
“This my home, but your people call it the Barren. Like most things they do not understand, they are wrong about it. Food is not scarce here.” Dragon pointed his long nose downhill. “If you’re thirsty, the creek is that way.” The creature rolled over and scrubbed its back against the rocks. The ground trembled with his weight.
Matteo studied the incline. “Rivenbourne looks more like the Barren than the B
arren does.” The villagers could forage in the Barren for weeks. Matteo wondered if it was the same where the mayor hid. “Has it rained a great deal?”
Dragon flipped back to his feet and drew a claw between each of his teeth. “Rain goes where it is sent.”
“Rain has been sent here, Dragon, but not to my people.” The people of Rivenbourne would eat for weeks, maybe even months, on the bounty within the valley that surrounded the Hatred Caves. Matteo reached for the dragon’s shoulder, and it did not move away. “Do you eat the rainberries as they ripen?”
The berry bushes covered the hillside. Leaf robins darted from plant to plant. It had been a long time since Matteo had eaten poultry. If the dragon didn’t eat the berries or the birds, perhaps he wouldn’t mind if the people of Rivenbourne did.
The giant head swiveled toward Matteo, and its nostrils flared. “Red flesh is all that interests me.”
A breeze blew over him, almost too hot to stand in. He feared for Mary.
“What should I call you?” Matteo studied the colors that moved across the reptile’s pupil. The length of the iris seemed shorter.
“Call me what you’ve been calling me.”
“Just Dragon?” Matteo moved his hand over the scales. One direction, it was as smooth as the master’s metal armor, but the other way it was as rough as tree bark. He might have imagined it, but the dragon seemed to lean into Matteo’s touch.
The dragon sighed. “You cannot pronounce my name.”
“You could teach me.”
“Why would I bother?”
“Why haven’t you eaten me? Are you not hungry?” Matteo didn’t want to be eaten, but there must have been a cause for the creature’s mercy. Maybe that reason would help him understand what would come next, even to prepare for the ultimate end.
Dragons and Mages: A Limited Edition Anthology Page 33