Hunting of the Last Dragon by Sherryl Jordan Page B

“and since you think I should face my foe, why don’t you call it here, so I can make its acquaintance?”
    Lan cackled so much that she rocked back and forth, tears pouring down her cheeks. “You’re braver than I thought, lad!” she chortled. “Braver than I thought!”
    But brave I was not, only a brazen fool a-tangling with a witch. And well may you splatter your ink, Brother Benedict, and cross yourself right heartily, for the next day something happened that made me know the fullness of her power, the terrible entangling wayof her. For the next day—
    By corpus bones! There go the bells, for prayer! Quick—be off! Yesterday the Abbot scolded me for making you late sometimes. I’ll tidy up here, and blow the candles out. Godspeed!

eleven
    Hail, Brother! That was a happy surprise, to be called upon to help harvest the remaining fruit and beans, afore the rains come and settle in for good. ’Twas an ill-planned break, as our story goes, but at least it allowed you more time to spend with Father Matthew, while he struggles between this world and the next. And it gave me time working in the orchard with Jing-wei. She came only in the mornings, for she cannot stand all day. Usually she’s busy in the infirmary, so I don’t see her excepting in our guest house in the evenings, and that’s always overcrowded with pilgrims and noisy children, and there’s little peace to talk. I miss her company. And there’s no need for you to raise your eyebrows like that, Brother; there’s nought between us but friendship. What, you’re writing already? Such eagerness! Or mayhap ’tis only obedience to the Abbot’sinstructions. But I’d best get on with the tale.
    That was a bad night at Lan’s, after her devilish talk of a dragon hunt. I was unable to sleep for heat and nagging fears, and felt trapped in a trouble too big for me. Worse, Lizzie was entangled in it, too, but she didn’t seem to mind. I could hear her calm breathing on the other side of Lan, while I tossed and turned. Even when I did sleep, nightmares tormented me. I was sorely tempted to get up and run away, but terrors of night, and a deep unwillingness to abandon Lizzie, kept me in that bed next to the witch.
    In the morning Lan and Lizzie carried on as if there was nought amiss. For the first time Lizzie was allowed to walk a little way, which she did, with Lan on one side and me on the other. Though the walking pained her, she wore a look of joy. She and Lan chatted together, sometimes in their own language. No one spoke of last night’s talk, and I felt confused, shut out, as if they shared a secret I knew not. I thought mayhap it was sorcery that bound them, and excluded me. And I confess there was another thing that made me feel alone: the fear that Old Lan might be right, and it was indeed my destiny, and my bounden duty, to slay the dragon and avenge my family. If so, it was a duty I could not face, and in my misery I cursed Lan for pointing it outto me, and myself for being the worthless coward she said I was.
    While Lizzie rested I went for a walk past the village fields. The folk were out harvesting their wheat. They sang as they worked, their scythes flashing in harmony in the bright sun, and the peacefulness of the scene eased last night’s terrors, though it made me yearn again for Doran, and working beside Prue on our harvest days. And the flashing blades awoke another thing in me: a memory of Tybalt’s sword. Then it came to mind what Richard had said about a soothsayer, and a prophecy: that a dragon would come, and be slain by Tybalt’s sword.
    Oh, Brother Benedict—I cannot tell my relief at that remembering! Joy flooded over me, as if I were a man let out of prison, released from the sentence of death. I almost cheered beside the harvesters in their fields. Old Lan was wrong! It was not my destiny nor my duty to go off hunting for the dragon!