BDArc-HiddenDragons

by CSM

  “You may have noticed that we’ve been trying to keep our presence here unnoticed,” Robert went on, oblivious to her inner conjecture. “We would like you to keep it to yourself, should any of the villagers come here, or you go there. We don’t want anyone to know we’re in the area. Your barn provides a good vantage point and base for our work on the border, but we need to keep it secret.”

  “I have little contact with the villagers at this time of year. And I see no reason why I would tell anyone of your presence here. No matter my mother’s origins, I am a loyal citizen of Draconia, and I know the dragons and knights that protect the border are to be trusted. I have trust in you and your dragon partners—that you’re doing good work here, and I won’t interfere. I will not tell anyone you’re here. I swear it.” She spoke the last words like a vow and he seemed to take her at her word.

  “Thank you, milady,” Robert said formally. “We will only be here for a few days at most, but we will try not to be a burden. And we can perhaps make your life a bit easier by doing as I have done today—fixing things and providing supplies. We will also leave you with a purse of coins and whatever else we can spare from our supplies when we go. And you will have the thanks of ourselves and our Lair. If you ever need anything, you can always go to the Border Lair for help. Anyone who can commune with dragons is welcome there.”

  This was more than she expected and his words touched her deeply. She felt a little choked up but strove for calm as she thanked him again and turned back to her home. If Growloranth was bringing meat for dinner, she was going to be ready to cook it into something delectable, if at all possible.

  Chapter Three

  Growloranth provided a side of venison later that afternoon that he had already butchered and dressed. The dragon’s sharp claws made short work of such things, and were even delicate enough to skin the beast so the hide could be cured.

  The dragon and his knight must have been busy retrieving the previous day’s skin from the forest as well, because when she looked in the back of the barn, there were two deer hides stretched on newly constructed frames, drying. Those hides, if she worked them a bit more, could be fashioned into winter clothing or even a blanket to keep her warm this winter. She might also be able to trade them in the village for food or other supplies.

  The thoughtfulness of the knight and his dragon was beyond measure. Not only were they making sure the roof of her barn wouldn’t fall in this winter, they were also providing a means for her survival beyond their departure from her home. Tears filled her eyes when she saw the evidence of their kindness.

  “I can smoke this for you, so it will stay good for quite a while,” Growloranth offered, holding up a large cut of the meat.

  “Are you sure? Doesn’t that take a long time?” Isabelle asked, concerned that the dragon not put himself out too much on her behalf.

  “Since Robert tells me we’re staying overnight, it actually is a simple process,” Growloranth told her. “We tie the meat to the rafters of the barn directly over my head, with a wrap to catch the juices so I don’t end up wearing them.” He paused to send up a smoky, dragonish chuckle. “In the night as I breath, the smoke will cook and cure the meat over several hours. By morning, you should have a number of well-smoked cuts that will last a long time, if you take care with them.”

  “That’s ingenious,” she marveled at the dragon’s ingenuity. “I would love that, if you truly don’t mind.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Growloranth stated. “We will do this every night we’re here so that when we go, you will be well-stocked with meat for the coming cold. It is the least we can do to help repay your generosity.”

  Moved to tears again, Isabelle could only try to smile her thanks as she took the bits of meat she was going to use tonight, and made a run for the house. She hoped the dragon understood and realized she could send him her thoughts without the risk of tears.

  “I cannot thank you enough, Sir Growloranth,” she told him mind-to-mind. “It has been so long since anyone thought of my welfare, I’m afraid my emotions are getting the better of me. Please excuse my flight. It’s silly to weep over such kindness.”

  “I weep for the thoughtlessness of your neighbors that has brought you to such a crossroads, my dear,” Growloranth answered in a kindly rumble in her mind. “You should not live in such a place with such mean people. If Robert has not made it clear, you will always be welcome at the Lair. I would take you there myself, if you but say the word. We would love to have you become part of our little community.”

  “Thank you, truly, Sir Growloranth, but I’m afraid I cannot bring myself to leave here just yet. You see, my mother is buried here. And this house reminds me of all the good times she and I shared. All of her belongings are still here, and I sense her presence in every room. In every whisper of the wind against these walls. It’s too soon for me to give her up.”

  “I do understand, milady,” Growloranth said quietly. “Losing someone you love is not an easy thing. When I lost my first knight, Kinneth, I went into mourning for two decades. He was such a good man. So decent and strong of mind and limb. He was the companion of my youth and I will always miss his presence in my life. It was a long time before I could even think about joining my life to another knight. Finally, it was Tildeth who talked me around to trying again.” He paused, seeming to consider his words. “You see, we dragons live much longer than our knights and it is a serious matter to put ourselves into a situation where we will, in all likelihood, outlive the man we choose to bond with—over and over again. But in the end, there is much to be gained from the risk. We protect our land and peoples, and we have the chance to live a life that’s full of love and laughter, pain, yes, and triumph at times. We share in our knights’ lives and are better for it. Without the risk, there is no reward. And without the pain of loss, we would never have loved. It is a double-edged sword, but one we all must take up at some point, to truly live.”

  Isabelle thought about his words for a long moment as she sat at her kitchen table, wiping her teary eyes. “You are a wise being, Sir Growloranth.”

  Isabelle cooked a savory stew that night, using a few of the onions she had grown in her garden that year and stored in the cold storage bin dug into the floor of the house. She also used some of the herbs and tubers she had gathered from the forest earlier in the year.

  Sir Bernard and Tildeth came back as the sun went down, walking in from the forest instead of landing in full sight of the village. Isabelle understood how easily the dragon would be seen if they had chosen to land out in the open. She was too light in color, too sparkly. To avoid being seen, they had landed in the forest and walked to Isabelle’s place under cover of the trees.

  Tildeth and Growloranth twined their long necks in greeting and disappeared within the dark barn. Isabelle had seen Growloranth return from another foray into the forest with another deer while she was cooking dinner and she expected that one was meant for the dragons. But sure enough, when she went outside to fetch a small piece of wood from the barn a while later, Robert was working on another deer hide, attaching it to another newly-made frame.

  Bernard and Robert spent a short while talking quietly and cleaning up from their labors. As night fell in earnest, a knock sounded on her door and she let them into her small house. Both sported wet hair and fresh clothing. They wore dark colors in well-worn fabrics that allowed them to move even more silently than before. They also looked neat and comfortable. And incredibly handsome.

  Bernard had shed his bulky leather armor and she could see now that he was built of solid muscle. Leaner than she had expected for such a big man, she could see the muscles of his arms rippling as he moved. Her mouth watered at the sight. Never had she been so close to two such handsome men.

  Of the two, Robert had the more perfectly formed face. His hair was slightly longer than Bear’s, and he was a tiny bit smaller in stature than his fighting partner. Bear was a mountain of a man who spoke little, but watched al
l. He had a penetrating gaze, and if his face wasn’t quite as perfect as Robert’s, he was still just as attractive, just in a different way.

  Robert was gorgeous. Bear was compelling. And both made her knees weak when they moved close to her in the confines of the small house.

  “Do you play?” Sir Bernard asked, shaking her out of her reverie. He was pointing toward the small stringed instrument in the far corner of the room.

  “My mother taught me,” Isabelle informed him. “We brought that with us from her homeland far in the north. She also played the flute and tin whistle, which she taught me as well. We used to pass the time during the cold winter months practicing by the fire.”

  She remembered those long winter nights fondly. Her mother had been a truly gifted musician, but she refused to play for the villagers—and had forbidden Isabelle from doing so as well. In honor of her mother’s memory, Isabelle still kept that promise to this day.

  “Mayhap you’ll play for us after dinner?” Robert asked with a hopeful look in his eyes. “Bear plays the flute quite well. Perhaps you can find a song you both know.”

  Isabelle looked at Sir Bernard. He seemed a bit bashful, but willing to try, so she nodded.

  “We can try,” she answered gamely, motioning for the men to sit at the table.

  There were only two chairs and they hesitated, looking at each other for a moment before Sir Bernard inexplicably rushed out the door. Before she could ask where he’d gone, he was back, a heavy log in his hands. He carried the huge chunk of tree easily, impressing Isabelle with his strength. The piece had been cut to a suitable height, she realized when he placed it upright at one side of the table. He could use it as a stool, solving the seating issue.

  “I was going to sit by the hearth,” she said quietly. “But this is much better. Thank you for thinking of it.”

  Bear smiled as he sat on the up-ended log, and she and Robert took the chairs. She was seated at the one next to the hearth, so she could easily reach the pot of stew. She lifted it off the hook that had kept it bubbling over the fire, and placed the heated pot in the center of the table, on a block of wood designed to hold it steady and protect the table top from its heat.

  She uncovered the iron pot and the aroma of the stew spilled forth. It smelled good. Better than anything she had cooked in a long time. She didn’t usually go to much trouble just for herself. Since her mother’s death, there were precious few reasons to cook a special meal.

  “That smells delicious,” Robert complimented her as she reached for the two wooden bowls she and her mother had used.

  She filled both, handing one to Bear, but when it came time for her to give the other one to Robert, he instead offered another wooden bowl of different design. He smiled at her, softening the realization that he had noticed that she didn’t own much in the way of tableware.

  “We have things in our packs that we can use to supplement your wares,” he said quietly. “I know you live simply and have little use for company.” She was shamed by his knowledge of her lack of friends. “We have imposed on your hospitality a great deal and you have not complained once, though you have had a right to.” He laughed and held the bowl steady as she filled it for him, letting the moment pass.

  It was embarrassing to know they had noticed how poorly she lived, but their matter-of-factness about it made her feel a little better. They were truly gentlemen as well as knights of the realm.

  “Mama and I didn’t entertain much. We only made what we needed for ourselves,” she tried to explain in a quiet voice as she filled his bowl.

  “Made?” Bear asked. “You made these things?” He held up the intricately carved spoon, seeming to admire the woodwork she had taken pains to learn how to do competently.

  This, at least, was a question she could answer without shame. She put down the wooden ladle as Robert placed his now-full bowl down in front of him. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out her latest project. It was the little piece of wood she had taken from the barn’s small stockpile earlier in the day.

  “I began working on this today. It will take a while yet to finish the fine detail and smooth it out so there is no fear of splinters, but your presence here reminded me that I should at least try to be prepared for company.” She offered the half-carved spoon to Bear for his inspection. The spoon form was complete. It was the scrollwork and leaf pattern on the stem she had yet to fill in completely.

  “This is fine work, mistress. You have great skill with wood carving. Why, you could trade these for coin in many towns and villages,” Bear proclaimed, examining the spoon with great care.

  Isabelle smiled. “I actually do trade them on occasion. There is a tinker that comes through once every season. He does not leave without visiting me to see what I have to trade. He was here last month and I traded a set of twelve spoons of similar design for my new bed linens and a few copper pennies. I would have had more to trade except it was harvest and I had little time to work on them,” she admitted. “I used the pennies to buy eggs each market day, until they ran out.”

  “You like eggs?” Bear asked quietly, handing the half-finished carving back to her.

  “Very much,” she agreed, pocketing the spoon and realizing they had yet to begin their meal. It seemed the knights were waiting for her. “Do you mind if we say the blessing before we eat?” she asked, not sure of the proper etiquette.

  “By all means,” Robert answered, smiling and putting her at ease.

  She paused, bowing her head. “Blessed Mother of All, it is by your bounty that we have this food to eat. Thank you for your blessing. By your grace, please watch over us and guide us with your loving hand, this we pray,” she said, using the simple words her mother had often used.

  There were more formal blessings, but on this occasion it seemed only right to use the more familiar words. They put her at ease, regardless of the fact that she was about to share yet another meal with two of the most attractive men she had ever met.

  But they were not for her. These men were noble. Knights of the realm. She was just a poor woman who eked out a living on the edge of the forest. She was nobody. She could never hope to claim the attention of a man such as these in a romantic way. Still…a girl could dream.

  Blessing complete, they started to eat in comfortable silence. From the way the men devoured the stew, she gathered they liked it. A lot. When she was only halfway through her own portion, they were already finishing theirs. Bear finished first, looking at her with a somewhat sheepish expression.

  “This is delicious, mistress,” he said, watching her with hopeful eyes. It was odd to her how much a grown man—a knight, no less—could seem like a youngling at times.

  “Please do not stand on ceremony. If you want more, take it. With all the meat your companions have set to smoke tonight, there will be a bounty in my larder tomorrow the likes of which it has never seen before. I thought perhaps, if you liked the stew, you and Sir Robert would finish this pot tonight. Will that be enough?” She looked uncertainly at her small pot and then back at the big men who were eyeing the stew in it avariciously.

  “It is more than enough,” Robert assured her. “Thank you for thinking of our comfort.”

  She smiled and went back to eating as the men wrestled over dividing up the remainder of the stew. There was a small tussle, but they seemed to recall their surroundings before it could escalate into anything bigger. Isabelle hid her smile, bending her head to eat.

  The more she was around these knights, the more she liked them. She was beginning to see them as individuals. As men, with all the idiosyncrasies of other people. They were real to her in a way they hadn’t been before.

  She knew that Bear—Sir Bernard—kept many of his thoughts to himself, but he thought deeply. She saw evidence that Sir Robert had deep respect for the quieter man and often sought his counsel before deciding on a course of action. Sir Robert was also very sharp-witted and although glib of tongue, he was kind-hearted.

  Th
e dragons too, were fascinating individuals. Isabelle could see the love and respect between the male and female dragon, and the deep bond they shared with their knights. Each respected the other, and the quartet was a highly-functioning unit, aligned in purpose and matched in skills and temperament.

  She never would have guessed anything like that about knights and their dragons before meeting these four. She felt blessed to have crossed their path, and doubly blessed by the small things they were doing for her around the homestead that would make the long, cold winter so much easier to bear.

  After dinner, they coaxed her to play a few tunes with Bear. They knew a few common songs and were able to do passable duets while Robert hummed along, smiling and tapping his foot.

  The dragons moved closer to listen, much to Isabelle’s surprise. She saw the sky blue of Lady Tildeth’s hide out her back window and realized Sir Growloranth had been watching from the side of the house for some time when he opened his eye and winked at her through the side window. If he hadn’t moved, she would not have been able to see him against the dark night outside. He was just that stealthy.

  Sadly, the evening had come to an end when she couldn’t contain a yawn. The men noticed right away and made their departure. It was kind of them to consider the fact that she’d had a very long day, but in a way, she would rather have spent more time enjoying their company.

  As she washed the few dishes and set them to dry, she thought of the lovely evening they had spent together. Perhaps they would have another dinner like this tomorrow night. She could but hope. It was so rare for her to have guests—and never had she had such amusing guests.

  In fact, she hadn’t had this much fun since her mother had died. That thought brought to mind all she had lost when her mother had passed, and she couldn’t help the tears that clogged her throat and fell into the dishwater.