by Shutta Crum
“Bring it here!” Thomas yelled.
The young one carried it farther out. He tossed it in the air and dove under. His mother came up nearby and batted it with her tail flukes. In disbelief, Thomas saw his cork vest fly through the air. They were playing with it!
Thomas felt another nudge at his side. Then the baby surfaced some distance away and chattered to him.
“I can’t swim out that far,” he cried. They had batted his vest between them and had carried it a long way into the bay. It was no use. As he watched, he could see the occasional fin or flash of silver back as the pair continued to play. Thomas sighed. The dolphins had stolen the gift from his da, and it would only be a matter of minutes before they, and his beautiful leather jerkin, were out of the bay and at sea.
Thomas dragged himself toward the rocky shore of the island. He’d lost everything. He no longer had Starfast, or his shield, or Bartholomew, or his jerkin! “Oh!” he groaned. Thomas was on the verge of tears.
He flung himself upon the coarse rusty red beach and didn’t even care that the sunbaked rocks burned his bare chest. Perhaps they would burn into him all the way. That would be good. If his heart burned, maybe he wouldn’t feel so bad about losing all the gifts others had entrusted to him.
He didn’t allow himself to cry. Knights don’t cry. Instead, he sniggered, making fun of his efforts. No sword, no steed, and now no jerkin. Oh, what a champion I’ve made! I even lost my raggedy shirt in the water. Let’s see, what have I left to use a-questing? He rolled over and sat up. From his wet pockets he pulled out a clump of soggy bread and Isabel’s horse.
Aloud, he said, “Here! Here’s a bit of wet bread for your quest. Oh, and don’t forget your valiant toy steed. You’ll need it.” Then he slumped down and thought about tossing these useless things as far from him as he could.
He didn’t. The truth was, he didn’t have enough energy to raise his arm and throw. He simply sat—ashamed and exhausted. Oh, he’d wrestled with the beast of the lake all right, and it had died. But what good was that? He hadn’t even wanted it to die, not really. After all, he’d set out to rescue the princess, not to kill a monster.
What would his mother and father think of him? Surely it had cost his father dearly to get the cork and the silver for his jerkin. And what would Sir Gerald think? He’d prayed, and had entrusted Starfast to Thomas. Now Starfast was broken and lost. And what about the king when he heard of this failure? And … Isabel?
Thomas had not bothered to look around the beach where he sat. Bridgoltha could have been standing right behind him. He simply sat, slumped over, resigned to whatever might befall him. As he was completely unequipped, he was in no hurry to face anyone or anything. No one ever came back from Barren Isle, anyhow. He’d thought that, with the protection of the padded jerkin, he might at least be able to get close enough to a fire-breathing dragon to snatch Princess Eleanor away. Now what chance did he have of rescuing her?
He waited, praying in a dim, small part of his heart for a dragon to creep up on him and devour him in a single gulp. Surely that wouldn’t hurt so much—one swallow, and he’d be done for! He was so tired. At least getting eaten by a dragon would be a noble death. His parents and Sir Gerald could still be proud of him. The king could say that he’d bravely ventured forth … only to be lost forever.
Thomas waited while the sun rose overhead. Was it only midday? It seemed like it was hours ago that he’d worked to free the young dolphin. How quickly one’s fortunes can change.
He remembered how relieved he’d been to survive the beast in the lake. Now he stuffed the wooden horse back into his pocket and absent-mindedly ate his soggy bread. It was the last of his food. He closed his eyes.
“Hello!” came a voice.
Thomas fairly jumped out of his skin! Someone was behind him. He scrambled to his feet and jerked around, his heart beating wildly. Whoever was there, it suddenly came to him that maybe he didn’t want to die right this minute.
It wasn’t a dragon. It was Princess Eleanor! Just as quickly as Thomas had jumped up and turned, he dropped to his knee and bowed his head. “My lady!” he cried.
Thomas heard some clunking noises as he kept his head bent. A moment later, a pleasant voice said, “You may look up.”
Thomas lifted his eyes to the princess. At her feet sat two wooden buckets yoked to a strong pole. Her dress was tattered, and her dark hair was loose and wild about her head. Thomas only slowly took these details in, for he could not stop smiling at her. And she was happily smiling back. In his heart Thomas suddenly knew he would go—even bare-handed—to the ends of the earth to rescue her.
“Aren’t you … Jon’s friend Thomas?” she asked.
“I am Sir Thomas, a … a Knight of the Realm,” he stuttered, suddenly shy.
“You’re a knight now?” she exclaimed. Then, as though hurrying not to offend, she quickly added, “Excuse me, it’s … Well, surely you’re too young to be a knight, Thomas. Mayhap you’re a squire?”
“I am but recently knighted, Your Highness.”
“I see.” Eleanor thought about this a moment, and looked past him. “Where are the others?”
“There are no others.”
The princess was silent. Finally, she nodded. “The knights are still at the border, then?”
“Yes.”
“I hope it goes well for them. I was on my way to seek help from our friends along the coast when the dragon queen stole me away and brought me here.” Then she looked about the beach again and asked, “Where is your boat?”
Thomas had trouble swallowing. “I have none, my lady.”
“And yet you are here.” She paused. “On an island.” She clasped her hands and waited for Thomas to answer.
“I … I rode here upon the back of a dolphin, Your Highness.”
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. A short moment later, she said, “It is good to know we have such resourceful knights.”
Thomas didn’t think he should contradict a princess, but he didn’t think he was very resourceful at all! He struggled with how to tell her of his failings, for he’d been raised to be truthful. He hung his head and said, “I’m not so sure the king would be proud of this knight. The dolphins took my floating jerkin from me. And my blade, Starfast, was broken and lost to the depths when I fought the beast of the lake.” He heard a small gasp from the princess and looked up.
“Did you kill that monster?”
Thomas hesitated. Had he? Had he really? Or perhaps it was as Jon had said, that the beast simply died after getting its tooth back. “It had a small gap in its teeth on one of the heads. I wedged my sword into the gap. It bit the hilt off. And then it died.”
Eleanor paused and seemed to look kindly at him as he knelt. She said, “On the journey here, we passed over that dismal lake and the stench made me ill. I felt the chill of evil myself. I doubt the king will be distressed about the loss of one sword now that the beast is dead.”
Thomas gulped and almost broke into tears. “But it was not until after the king had been hurt.”
“The king hurt!” cried Eleanor. She pulled him up firmly by his arm. “Arise, good knight, and tell me exactly what has happened!”
Thomas’s limbs quivered as he stood close to the princess and stared into her fiery green eyes. “The king and some men from the castle grounds came to rescue you, my lady. They only got as far as that dismal pool. I was following behind them, and arrived too late. They’d already been attacked. But do not fear—the king lives. Heartwind gave his life protecting him. And Jon has led the king away to a place of safety, tied upon Bartholomew’s back. I came onward to rescue you.”
Eleanor let go of Thomas’s arm. “Bartholomew?” she asked.
Sir Thomas explained, “He was my mount. I sent him to carry the king home.”
The princess walked over to sit on a nearby rock. “Forgive me if I frightened you … Sir Thomas. I feared for my father’s well-being. Now that I have heard your story, I think you must be
proud of your quest thus far. Your stature has served you well.”
Now it was Thomas’s turn to raise an eyebrow. What did she mean by that? He didn’t know what to say. It didn’t sound as though the princess was making fun of how short he was.
Eleanor brushed back a lock of hair, and Thomas saw that her eyes were filling with tears. He relaxed.
“My friend Heartwind is no more?” asked the princess.
Thomas remembered how fond the princess had been of the king’s warhorse. He nodded.
“I shall truly miss him. He was the bearer of many girlhood secrets that I often whispered in his ear. In return, he asked for only an apple or a pear. And I am sure that though my father’s body is not completely broken, his heart is.”
Thomas could barely speak. “And Jon’s,” he added quietly.
“Yes,” the princess agreed. “Our Jon, too, will miss him.” She paused for a moment, straightening her shoulders, and continued. “Well, I trust that Bartholomew’s strong back will carry the king a long, steady way. There is no better mount for that duty. We are lucky Bartholomew was with you.
“And now you have ridden a dolphin to rescue me.” She wiped at a last tear and laughed a soft laugh.
“La! Perhaps we shall ride a dolphin off the island together? I have often watched their graceful playing in the bay. That would be a grand adventure for a princess.”
Then Eleanor sighed and looked away. “Unfortunately,” she said, “I will never be permitted to leave the island until we’ve dealt with the dragon. There’s no running away from this one, or riding off on the back of a dolphin. That would make matters worse for everyone.” The princess put her head in her hand, thinking. “Actually,” she muttered, “there are thirteen dragons to be concerned about.”
Thomas yelped, “Thirteen dragons!”
Thomas had trouble clearing his throat. Oh, how he wanted Starfast now, and Bartholomew, and the protection of his heavy jerkin! When he could speak again, he squeaked, “Thir-teen?” He lowered his voice. “Um, I mean … thirteen, my lady?”
“Yes,” she said, studying him. “However, I assure you, Thomas”—she waved a hand dismissively—“twelve of them are quite small.”
He nodded and took several quick glances over his shoulder. Getting swallowed in one gulp was one thing, he reasoned. But after having fought the many-headed beast of the lake, he did not like the idea of being pulled apart and shared!
Yet Princess Eleanor seemed admirably relaxed, Thomas thought, considering there were thirteen dragons of any size on the island. Her calm helped him to quash his thoughts of getting eaten.
He would stay steady on—he knew how to be stubborn. And Sir Gerald had admonished him to do what needed to be done. He reached into his pocket and touched Isabel’s horse. What if it were Isabel who needed rescuing? A line from his oath to the king came to him: … to the end of my days. “So be it,” he whispered.
Eleanor gave him a questioning glance. “What was that?”
He squared his shoulders and stood as straight and steady as he could. “Your Highness, I promised the king I would rescue you. Do you know where I might find these thirteen dragons, that I might confront them and win your release?”
“La!” Eleanor surprised him by giggling. “But of course!” she said, rising from her seat upon the rock.
Thomas scowled, his face flushed. Was she teasing him?
She approached Thomas. “Do not fear that I laugh at you, good knight! I laugh because, in truth, you see before you not a Princess of the Realm, but the nursemaid of Bridgoltha’s clutch of twelve dragonlets. Queen Bridgoltha is the last adult dragon hereabouts, so she has had to take human nursemaids to meet her brood’s constant demands.”
A nursemaid? Twelve of the dragons were babies! That’s what she meant when she said twelve were small. Then Thomas wondered, How small?
Eleanor was bending to pick up her buckets. “In fact, I must be returning in case Queen Bridgoltha wakens from her sleep.”
“Here!” cried Thomas. “Allow me to assist you, Your Highness.” He raced forward to retrieve the yoke.
“Thomas,” she chided, gently touching his bruised shoulder, “I see you are sore tired from your trials to get here—despite your stout heart that would go into battle against dragons without hesitation!” She waved him away from the yoke and the buckets. “I often helped about the stables when I was younger. I can manage the yoke, and you must come along and allow me to care for you until your strength has returned.”
She smiled and picked up the sturdy pole with the buckets. “Besides,” she added, “the buckets are hanging too long for you. They would drag along the ground and spill out all the fresh water. Come now, don’t argue. I shall explain things as we go along.” So Thomas, to his chagrin, trotted behind the princess while she led the way to a spring just beyond the beach.
Along the way she told Thomas, “I’ve given this a great deal of thought, Sir Thomas. Somehow I must leave under agreed-upon terms with the she-dragon.”
“Terms?” Thomas wondered how in the world one came to terms with a dragon.
“Terms!” She nodded. “You see, Queen Bridgoltha is from an ancient and respected family. I do not believe she cares overly much for this modern practice of rescuing princesses. An honorable arrangement with agreeable terms on both sides seems to be the best strategy. You know, dragons love a good bargain. They’re very competitive and can’t stand to be bested in any activity whatsoever.
“However, I haven’t much with which to bargain. Gold and jewels she does not need. She does not want land. She loves Barren Isle and only rarely travels; and those trips have been solely to get fresh nursemaids.
“Therefore, were I to be rescued, Queen Bridgoltha might bring terror to the good people along the coast until she had stolen another nursemaid. I would not bring the fear of losing a daughter or a wife down upon the heads of my people. Nor would the king wish me to. The problem is, dragonlets mature very slowly. These will need a nursemaid for many years yet. So can you understand my dilemma?”
“Yes, my lady.” Thomas did understand. As they walked along a well-worn path around the base of one of the two peaks, he thought about losing one of his sisters, or Ma, to a dragon.
Eleanor explained that there was an entrance to the nursery nearby and that she made several trips a day for water, as the young dragons drank a great deal. It helped to keep the untrained fires in their bellies from suddenly erupting and burning their throats. Thomas ran his hand over his bare chest. Now he wished he had back his old homespun shirt as well.
Suddenly the princess ducked behind a boulder and into a dark passageway. “Just through here,” Eleanor directed as she started forward.
“My lady! My lady!” Thomas whispered.
The princess stopped and turned. “Yes?”
Thomas didn’t know how to begin. “Will it not … not seem unusual for you to return with another person? Perhaps I should sneak in?”
“Whatever for?”
“I’ll be trespassing into her lair, and … and there’s her treasure she’ll be guarding. I don’t have any weapon to protect you.” Thomas held out his hands to indicate that he hadn’t even picked up a stick.
“Oh, Thomas.” Eleanor stopped in the entryway. “I’m afraid I haven’t had time to tell you all you need to know. However, know this: Queen Bridgoltha sleeps deeply and often. A dragon needs a lot of rest for at least a hundred years after laying a clutch of eggs. The dragon queen’s only had about eighty years so far. Whenever she can, she leaves the nursery to me, goes behind a rock wall nearby, and sleeps.”
Princess Eleanor put her hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Also, you should know that most of the stories people tell about her are greatly exaggerated. I suspect she does not mind that; it keeps people away from her island. As to her treasure …” Eleanor’s voice trailed off, and she gave Thomas a mysterious smile. “It is true she does guard that fiercely. However, it is worth all you have been through ju
st to glimpse it. Very few get to do that.
“Now do not worry about me. Her need protects me from her wrath. I suspect she will not harm you, either.” Eleanor paused for a moment and then rushed on. “At least not right away. She does not need to eat much during this time. Besides, she will first want to determine whether you are of any use to her. I’ve learned that she is a practical queen.”
Thomas gulped. He hoped the princess was right.
They descended along the passageway toward the nursery.
Thomas had wanted to place himself in front of the princess to protect her. It was the chivalrous thing to do. But she had refused. “After all,” she’d cautioned, “the babies will be expecting me, not you. Also, you don’t know the warning signs. If one of them has a tummyache, it could be dangerous.” She whispered, “And I want to make sure their mother is asleep before we venture too far in. The little ones may have been naughty in my absence and awakened her.”
Thomas smelled the dragon nursery well before they came to it. The air was full of baby odors, a bit sweet and a little rank—these were smells slightly familiar to him. From somewhere nearby came a steady rhythmic sound, a deep vibrating hum. Thomas could feel it reverberating in the rock all around and rising into his bones. Eleanor nodded, as if she was satisfied about that. When they entered the open nursery, she ran ahead to a large outcropping at the side and peered around it.
Then she backed away and waved Thomas toward a shallow pool in the rock at one side of the cavern. “The dragon queen is sleeping soundly,” she told Thomas as he helped her dump the buckets of fresh water into the pool. “That sound is her deep breathing. It takes a loud ruckus or other problem to wake her. As long as you hear that steady thrumming, you shouldn’t have to worry.”
With the sudden sound of the water splashing on the rocks, a rising chorus of mews and cries came from around the nursery. Out from moss-lined crannies and a grass-filled alcove tumbled the dragonlets. They were each almost as long as Thomas’s arms, and slender. Their heads, when stretched up, did not reach quite to his knees. Their pointed, canine-looking snouts flashed with the small tips of red tongues, and a tiny topknot of downy feathers adorned the head of each.