Page 10 of Redeeming the Dragon

Chapter 5

To my family’s credit, they bore up remarkably well when darkness began to drift over the island. Neena and Marisa had been out of the house most of the day. I knew why. This story had to be told; had to be explained. That fearsome storm, along with the unearthly screeches and yowls. Our fellow Sanlyn would know something was afoot. To whom would they go for information, if not to their village chieftain, my father?

Graciously, my sisters had striven to keep the islanders away by going into the village, calling a meeting, and explaining the situation. Our property had been devoid of visitors, as my sisters took it upon themselves to give me one final day at home without dozens of islanders prying and poking about.

However, when I finally went to my room to get ready to leave, I heard the gentle swishing of many feet through the sand. Over the roll of the surf, I heard the soft murmur of many voices whispering. As I stood in my room, glancing about, wondering what to wear, what to take, and what to leave, I heard these noises and knew the villagerswere coming. I’d hoped they wouldn’t. I’d hoped they might refrain, allowing me to make this final journey to the Wailing Cliffs on my own.

Honestly, for my part, I would gladly have told my family goodbye here in our cottage and made the trek alone. I feared their tears and sighs might distract me from my purpose, and I could ill afford to be distracted.

Stealing to the window, I lifted a slat on the shutters to peer out. Yes. There they were. Holding lanterns and torches. A great throng of people. Probably every villager that was able to attend. For such a crowd, they were oddly silent. I was grateful for that. No weeping and wailing. No wringing of hands.

I was not the most popular girl in the village. I preferred the peace of home to dancing in taverns or drinking with any boy who’d put down a copper for a cup of mead. Everyone knew me, of course, since I was the chieftain’s daughter. I supposed there would have been few, if any, who were happy to see me come to such an end. By their appearance outside my home, ready to accompany me on my final walk to the Wailing Cliffs, they were showing me support and gratitude in the sole way they could.

I appreciated it, albeit I did not want it. Allowing the slat on the shutter to fall back into place, I turned back to the job at hand.

What does one wear to be devoured by a dragon?I wondered glumly.

Stop,came the mental command.He is not going to devour you. He promised you safety.

Then what does one wear to live in safety with a dragon?

No mental answer to that.

I set to work as if it had been any other day. As if I were getting dressed to go down into the village and assist the midwife with a nighttime delivery, which I’d done on a handful of occasions. I put ona clean, simple blouse, along with a pair of loose, flowing trousers. I slid my feet into sandals of rope. I brushed my coppery hair and bound it into a braid. On my small dressing table was an assortment of jewelry, created mostly by myself of woven bits of thread and rope, fishhooks, beads, seashells, and pretty stones, washed up by the tide.

Should I wear some? Normally, as a Sanlyn girl, I wore some manner of adornment. As a people, the Sanlyn enjoyed jewelry.

Why?I asked myself.If I’m to live, I must have clothes, but I need no jewelry to survive as a dragon’s slave.

Deciding I’d leave my pretties for family and friends to split amongst themselves as mementos of me, I fetched a simple bag I could sling over my shoulder and packed a complete change of clothes, along with a few essential toiletries. After all, If I were to live, even as a dragon’s slave, I’d need to brush my hair. I’d need to clean my teeth. I’d need soap to bathe my body.

There was little to do after that. Correction, there was a great deal left to do. An overwhelming amount left to do, but no time to do it. I allowed myself to sit on the edge of my bed a few minutes, aware that I’d never see my room again.

There was a piece of netting hanging in the corner, taken from pieces cast away by father’s shipmates while repairing the vessel’s nets. I’d suspended it from the ceiling and from it, I’d tied pretty stones, shells, and smooth sticks. There was also the hurricane lantern, with holes cut in the tin to allow light to shine out while sheltering the candle inside. It sat on my dressing table, next to a regular candle, ready in case a storm should blow through and I needed to venture outside. In the corner, beneath the netting, squatted my sewing basket, overflowing with mending, a half-finished blanket, and a new shirt I’d been embroidering for my father as a birthday gift. I supposed I’d never have the opportunity to finish these projects.

In the other corner was a simple sea chest containing the remainder of my clothing, which I’d be leaving behind. One pretty dress for community events down in the village. The rest of my clothes were more loose blouses, pants, or colorful skirts. I had never had a beautiful gown. Rarely even seen one. Our island was so carefree, and life here was so simple. What need had we of satin, lace, or silk ballgowns? I’d heard those things existed in Laytrii, Aerisia’s capital city, but I supposed I’d never live to own one, which made me sad.

You are stalling, Lorna. It is time to go.

I looked down at my hands. Unconsciously, I’d been clasping them tightly in my lap. On my thumb, was the sole bit of jewelry I’d take. A ring, made from heated wire, wrapped, and bent into a circle that fit my thumb. It boasted five stones, each a different color, taken from various islands Father had visited during his fishing or swashbuckling expeditions. The five stones were meant to represent the five members of our family. It seemed fitting that I wear the ring as my sole piece of jewelry. After all, what I did, I did for my family. Wearing the ring felt akin to having them with me as I went to face my destiny.

Lifting my clasped hands, I brushed the ring with a kiss, mentally bidding my family members farewell. I could not bear a weeping goodbye in front of my village. This was better.

After that, there was nothing to do except gather up my bag, sling it over my shoulder, and walk out of my bedroom. The common area was deathly silent. I paused in the center, glancing about, remembering the events of a mere day before that had taken place in this very spot. Inside, we’d huddled, hiding from the storm. Outside, had arrived the dragon, far worse than any tempest. Now, I was offering myself to that dragon in exchange for my island’s wellbeing.

Biting my lower lip to help suppress tears, I sped outside before my resolve could falter. I opened the door and saw a cluster of people gathered there, among them the faces and shapes of my family.

I froze, then announced, “I am ready.”

I tried to infuse false confidence into my voice. False cheerfulness onto my face. No one was fooled, least of all my mother. But she bravely stepped forward, with tears glistening in her eyes, to straighten the neckline of my shirt.

“My youngest. My baby,” she murmured. “My bold, precious girl.” Her fingers fumbled with the neckline longer than was needed. It was her final chance to touch me, and she was having difficulty letting go. “You are brave and you are strong. Never forget that.”

Mute, I stared into my mother’s face and nodded.

“Would that I could bear this burden for you,” she whispered.

I nodded again, my throat tight. In my mind I was thinking,Please stop. Please stop. You’ll make me cry, and I cannot cry over this. If I cry, I’ll lose my resolve.

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