But soon she began to be restless again, because she wasn’t all mortal, either, and began to spend a good deal of time on the palace roof, where she could be alone. She would stand and gaze over the parapets at a beautiful mountain that could be seen in the distance. It looked quite blue at its base, and about halfway up there was always a ring of cloud, through which the summit of the mountain rose, as pink as could be.
Its name was the Mount of the Dragons, and the people of Kengaria were afraid to go there, although everyone knew that there were no dragons in the land any more.
“Some day I shall go there,” Meira told herself.
When she tired of looking at the mountain, she began taking long rides about the countryside on her pony, slipping away so no one would go with her. Frederik and Johann spent most of their time looking for her.
One day as she was riding she crossed a shallow stream; she was wearing a cap with a feather in it, and a sudden gust of wind lifted it in the air and dropped it in the water. Meira was leaning over, trying to reach it from her pony’s back, when she heard the sound of horse’s hooves, and a young man rode up, and leaning down, picked the cap out of the water with no trouble at all.
“Thank you so much,” Meira said. “I don’t think I could have reached it.”
The young man laid the cap on a rock in the sun to dry, and they both dismounted and sat down on the rock, too.
“My name is Julian,” the young man said, smiling at her. His gray eyes were merry, and he seemed to be in a very good humor. The sun glinted in his curly brown hair when he took off his hat.
“I am Meira, granddaughter of King Ferdinand,” said Meira.
“The Princess Meira,” said Julian, standing up and bowing. “I have heard she’s very beautiful, and doesn’t know what she wants. The first part is certainly true,” he added, sitting down again.
“Thank you,” said Meira. “The other is true, too. I just can’t decide what I am. Fairies are so much like fairies, and mortals are so much like mortals, and I don’t seem to be either one.”
“Ah,” he said. “That’s your trouble. You mustn’t try to be either, when really you’re a third kind of person.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” she said. “I’ll try it. I suppose I’d better go now. It’s getting late, and no one knows where I am.”
Julian rode part of the way with her to the palace, until they came to a fork in the road, when he swept off his plumed hat and said that perhaps they would meet again.
Meira watched him as he rode off, whistling cheerily, and after that she thought about Julian a good deal, and wondered where he lived, and who he was. She rode often, watching for a sight of him, but several weeks passed, and she didn’t see him again. She began to feel very sad.
“It can’t be because of Julian,” she told herself. “After all, I’ve seen him only once. I wish I had something to do.”
Then she thought of the Mount of the Dragons. “I’ll go there tomorrow!” she decided.
The next morning she got up very early and rode away gaily through the crisp, morning air, her pony’s hooves scattering dew drops as he cantered along.
After a long while she reached the mountain, and saw that a path zigzagged up its side. As her pony began to climb, she noticed that little blue flowers poked their heads from the grass, more and more of them as she went along, until at last there wasn’t any grass and she was riding through a thick carpet of blue flowers.
After a while the path began to wind round and round the mountain, and she noticed that the air was cooler, and that there was a slight mist. This mist grew thicker and thicker until she could see only a little bit ahead of her. The flowers on the ground now appeared to be a light purple.
“I’m riding right through the ring of cloud I saw from the palace,” she thought. The air became cooler and the mist thicker, until she couldn’t see anything, and sat there shivering while her pony picked his way along.
Then, just as she was beginning to be a little frightened, they suddenly came out of the cloud into the bright sunshine. And now they were going over a carpet of pink flowers, growing very thickly. Her clothes and the pony’s hide glistened with a dewiness that had settled on them from the mist, but this moisture soon disappeared in the sun. The path began to zigzag again, steeply, and then—they were at the top.
Lovely level fields of pink flowers stretched away, with trees here and there covered with pink or white blossoms. Against the blue sky, it was almost too lovely to believe.
The path led away to the left, through two rows of fruit trees. She saw, somewhat startled, that the trees were in bloom and had fruit on them at the same time. The mountain must be enchanted. But Meira had always been used to enchantments of one kind or another so it didn’t bother her much.
The path ended suddenly, in front of a rounded hill, and set into this hill was a perfectly huge blue door, with gold hinges.
Meira jumped to the ground. Probably she should leave it alone, but she just had to see what was behind that door. After all, no one had lived here for centuries. The door was so large that she could just barely reach the handle, but when she pulled at it, it opened easily. She peeped in.
There was an immense room, hollowed out of the inside of the hill. The walls were hung with rich tapestries and furnished with huge divans and mushroom-like hassocks almost as tall as she was. From a round skylight in the top, light streamed in, and the floor was covered with lovely purple flowers like the ones that grew in the mist. Meira roamed about in delight, thinking that whoever had lived here must have been very large.
Then she heard a loud, frightened neigh, and the galloping of hooves. She rushed to the door.
Her pony was almost out of sight, racing in terror down the mountain, and there, right in front of her, was a very large dragon.
Meira couldn’t speak or move. She just stood there, staring up at the monster in trembling horror. She closed her eyes.
“Don’t be afraid,” the dragon said in a soft voice. “I won’t hurt you. I’m a vegetarian,” he added.
Meira leaned against the door weakly. He really didn’t look very fierce. There was an anxious expression on his face.
“I hope I didn’t startle you too much,” he said. “You see, I didn’t know you were here.”
“I certainly didn’t know you were here,” Meira said, “or I never should have come.”
“I’m very glad you did,” said the dragon. “I get so lonely.”
“Aren’t there any other dragons?”
“No,” he said sadly, “not for miles. And I just can’t leave my mountain to go and live with them.”
“Why not?” asked Meira.
“Why, because I live here. I like it. But it’s very lonely.”
“I can see that it would be,” she said. “What’s your name? I am Meira, granddaughter of King Ferdinand.”
The dragon made a low obeisance. “I am called Branstookah.”
“How do you do? Tell me,” Meira said, “how have you lived here so long without anyone knowing about you?”
“I can’t let any humans know. They all think dragons eat people, and there’d be armies up here, trying to kill me.”
“What a shame! But couldn’t you tell them you wouldn’t hurt them?”
“Tell them? They wouldn’t let me get near enough to make them hear, if I shouted my loudest. It’s almost impossible for me to slip up on anyone, you know.”
“Well, I’ll tell them,” she said decidedly.
“Oh, no! Please don’t. You could never convince them. Promise me you won’t. You know how mortals are.”
“All right. Why,” she added, realizing what he had said, “don’t you think I’m a mortal?”
“I can tell by your eyes,” said Branstookah.
It was true that Meira’s eyes were not so blue as her mother’s. They had a greenish light in them at times. It was the only indication of her fairy blood.
“Won’t you have some lunch?” Brans
tookah said. “I’m sure you must be hungry after such a long ride.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Your house is lovely, I wouldn’t have gone in, you know, if I hadn’t thought it had been deserted for years.”
“I understand,” said the dragon. He led her into the house, and disappeared through a doorway concealed by hangings. In a few minutes he came back with a silver dish piled high with strange, luscious fruit, and tall silver goblets, frosted from the cold liquid they held.
The fruit was delicious, like nothing Meira had ever tasted. The goblets were filled with ice-cold nectar, and the moment she drank of it all her weariness disappeared, and she felt as fresh as though she had not just taken a five-hour ride on horseback.
After lunch they wandered all over the mountaintop. Gorgeous butterflies floated past them, and birds sang in the trees. Branstookah showed her a lovely, lacy waterfall.
“When I want a bath I just get under it,” he said. “Like this.” He stepped into the waterfall, and the water made rainbows as it splashed on his many-colored scales.
The afternoon passed quickly, and Meira noticed with dismay that the shadows were long, and the sun was almost down.
“What shall I do?” she lamented. “Even if I had my pony I couldn’t possibly get home before dark.”
“I’ll take you home,” said Branstookah. “You can ride on my back, you know. I do hope you’ll come again soon.”
“I certainly will,” Meira said.
“I’ll send you a messenger,” Branstookah said, “and you can write to me. I haven’t had a letter for two hundred years, and I do love to get mail.”
“Of course I will.”
“A little pink bird,” said the dragon. “He’ll have a letter under his wing.”
Having made these arrangements, they set out. Before she knew it Meira was sailing out over Kengaria, and in a very short time the dragon had landed gently on the palace roof.
14
KILL THE DRAGON!
Everyone had been very much worried about Meira when her pony came home without her, and when she surprised them by appearing inside the palace, they asked her many questions, but she wouldn’t tell anyone where she had been, because she had promised Branstookah. King Ferdinand said she simply couldn’t go riding any more without having someone with her.
So she went riding the next day with three grooms right behind her, taking care not to let her out of their sight. She hadn’t gone very far when she saw Julian riding toward her.
“Hello!” he said. He turned his horse and rode along beside her, talking gaily as though he had seen her only yesterday.
Meira longed to tell him about Branstookah, but she had promised, so she said nothing about it. Instead she answered his questions as to what she had been doing, and told him about Frederik and Johann.
“Are you going to marry one of those two?” he asked.
“I am not,” Meira said decidedly.
“That’s good,” said Julian.
“Maybe you could come to the palace some time,” Meira said.
“Thanks,” said Julian. “I will, one of these days.”
But he didn’t come, and Meira didn’t see him again for a week, though she rode every day.
“I wonder where he goes?” she thought. She thought about Julian a good deal. The more she thought about him, the more she wanted to see him.
One day she was on the palace roof, gazing longingly at the beautiful mountain, when she heard a soft twittering. She looked around, and there was a fat little pink bird.
“It must be Branstookah’s messenger,” she thought excitedly. She put out her hand, and the bird settled on her finger.
She felt under his wing, and sure enough there was a small slip of paper, tied with a blue ribbon. She untied it and opened the paper. It read:
WHAT ABOUT TEA ON WEDNESDAY AT FOUR?
“He writes very badly,” she thought absently. “Wait just a minute,” she told the little bird, and hurried down to her room for pen and ink. She turned the note over and wrote:
YOU’LL HAVE TO COME FOR ME. THEY WON’T LET ME OUT ALONE.
DON’T COME IF YOU THINK SOMEONE WILL SEE YOU.
She went back to the palace roof and tied the note under the little bird’s wing again. He flew away, a little pink spot, soon lost in the distance.
On Wednesday Meira was on the palace roof a little before four, and soon she saw Branstookah flying toward her. She jumped upon his back as soon as he landed, and they were off.
“Aren’t you afraid someone will see you?” she asked.
“I’m taking a chance,” he said, “but they don’t look up very often. I was so lonesome I couldn’t help coming.”
Meira had a wonderful afternoon on the mountain. Branstookah told her enthralling tales of dragons and enchantments, and lands far away, and everything he could think of.
Then, just as it was getting dark, they flew back to the palace, and no one knew she had been gone.
This went on for some time. Every few days Branstookah would come for her, and she would visit once more the Mount of the Dragons.
When she didn’t visit Branstookah she rode about, and looked and looked for Julian, but he didn’t come.
“What becomes of you?” Johann and Frederik asked her. “Do you go off and hide?”
“Ask me no questions,” said Meira, and that was all she would tell them. She was happy now, because she had a wonderful secret to interest her, and, though she longed to see Julian, she was sure he would come back sooner or later.
And then:
“There’s a dragon been seen about here!” Johann told her one day excitedly, coming up to where she was sitting in the garden. “Think of it!”
Meira felt her hands grow cold. She clasped them tightly together and tried not to look concerned.
“There haven’t been any dragons for years,” she said.
“There’s one now,” said Johann. “A great many people have seen it.”
“Well, what about it?” Meira asked.
“We must kill it, of course. Frederik and I and some soldiers are starting for the Mount early in the morning.”
“How awful!” Meira cried. “Oh, you mustn’t! I won’t let you!”
“Why, Princess! Do you want to let a dragon run riot in the kingdom?”
“He won’t run riot! He’s been there for years! He’s a vegetarian!”
Johann laughed heartily, and then looked at her, frowning. “What do you know about it?” he asked.
“I know all about it!” she cried. “You’re always saying you love me. If you do, you’ll leave the dragon alone.”
“We can’t possibly do that,” Johann said.
Meira left him and ran across the garden, crying bitterly. “It’s all my fault,” she thought.
She wasn’t looking where she was going, and ran right into Frederik, who said, “Did you hear about the dragon?”
“The dragon! They’re going to kill him!”
“Don’t be frightened, Meira,” he said. “They’ll have him killed in no time. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t want him killed!” She ran into the palace, and found Queen Katrina and King Ferdinand having tea.
“Don’t let them kill him!” she cried, throwing herself into her grandmother’s arms in tears.
“Kill who?”
“The dragon! Branstookah!”
“What are you talking about, Meira?”
They listened silently while Meira told them about Branstookah, and that he was a vegetarian, and that everyone wanted to kill him. There wasn’t any use keeping the secret any longer.
King Ferdinand shook his head, and said he’d see what he could do, but that if the Prime Minister and the Councilors wanted the dragon killed, he wasn’t sure he could stop them.
“They’re a bull-headed lot,” he said. “But don’t worry so. Branstookah probably isn’t in as much danger as you think. I only hope he doesn’t get annoyed and hurt anyone. I wish Mika we
re here.”
Meira left them and roamed about the palace in a perfect frenzy, trying to think what to do.
She went back into the garden and tried to persuade Johann and Frederik not to go.
“I assure you, Princess,” said Johann, “you’re quite mistaken as to the nature of dragons. They’re very fierce.”
“You’ve never seen one,” Meira said scornfully. “And this particular dragon is a friend of mine. I know him.”
Frederik coughed. “They—er—they say you’ve been seen riding on his back!” he managed to say at last. “Of course I know it’s not true…”
“It is true!” she said, exasperated. “Haven’t I been telling you? I often go and have tea with him. That’s how I know he’s all right.”
Johann and Frederik looked at each other.
“She is,” said Frederik.
“I’m afraid so,” Johann nodded.
“Is what?” asked Meira.
“Bewitched by the dragon,” they said sadly, shaking their heads. “Everyone says so.”
“Oh, go away!” Meira cried. “You’re so stupid. Oh, I wish Julian were here! I certainly won’t marry either one of you if you go near him. I am not bewitched!”
“You won’t feel this way when we have killed him,” they said. “Then the spell will be lifted from you.”
Meira stamped her foot, and they went away, still determined to kill the dragon.
King Ferdinand came into the garden where they had been talking.
“The Council won’t listen,” he said. “I don’t see how we can stop them from going. They think you’re under a spell and that the only way to cure you is to kill the dragon.”
“I hope Branstookah kills them all!” said Meira.
“If he did they’d send the whole army after him,” said the King. “The only chance I see is for him to defeat them without hurting them and without getting killed himself. I’ll see what I can think of tonight. They’re not starting until morning, you know.”
“Oh, Julian, where are you?” Meira thought miserably.
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