Dragon Castle (28 page)

Baba Anya is in the first chair. She beams up at me like a mischievous child. Next to her, one great arm around her shoulder is Uncle Jozef.

“Sit,” Uncle Jozef says.

I sit and look over at the remaining empty chair.

Baba Anya and Uncle Jozef turn their heads toward the door.

A mustached Gypsy enters carrying two bottles. He takes the chair at the table's head, leans his elbows on the table, taps his fingers together, and then, with a small smile, removes his head scarf and the hair that had been pasted to his upper lip. Just as I suspected, it's Georgi.

I eye the bottles that he places on the table.

“Our oldest wine?” I said. “The hundred-year-old vintage?”

“Rashko,” Baba Anya said, “we've been waiting longer than that.”

Uncle Jozef nods. “As the one who bottled it, my cousin has earned at least a sip or two.”

Georgi raises one eyebrow, as self-contained as a cat who's caught the rat that was stealing grain.

“A friend can never be judged by the coat he wears,” I say, quoting one of Father's proverbs. “But sometimes the coat prevents you from recognizing that friend right away.”

Baba Anya, Uncle Jozef, and Georgi all exchange a look.

“What if,” Georgi asks, “we were to tell you that we are In-betweeners.”

“In-betweeners?”

“Children of human fathers and Faerie mothers?” he says.

“Ones who have chosen,” Baba Anya adds, “to belong not to the Silver Lands, which never change, but to this world of changes?”

“This more interesting world,” Uncle Jozef rumbles.

“Ones,” Georgi continues, “who decided to be as much a part of this land as trees of Stary Les and the hill from which Hladka Hvorka grew.”

“Ah,” I say.

But why,
I think,
why disguise your true nature?

“Of course,” Baba Anya says, her voice taking on the cadence of storytelling, “if we were such beings as that, we might hide our near-immortality, which might stir resentment in the hearts of ordinary humans whose lives are as brief and as bright as butterflies.” She smiles at me, a hint of sadness in her smile.

“Instead,” Uncle Jozef says, “we might chose to wait and watch, to help those who, like Pavol, hold the potential for wisdom, who may grasp the Way and stay true of heart and purpose.”

I don't say anything. Silence, it seems, may be my wisest answer right now.

Georgi produces four glasses with a flourish, and opens the bottle of wine.

“To Cesta?” he says as he pours.

I take my glass and raise it. “To the Way.”

 

 

WHEN WE'VE SHARED that drink, I nod to all of them and leave the kitchen. I don't go up to my room. I have one more errand to run. I enter the great hall and look at the tapestry. One torch is burning next to it, but it also, as is often the case, seems to glow with its own light. For a moment I seem to see something in it. It's a figure that resembles my brother, Paulek, standing in a doorway that looks like that of our kitchen. Our two dogs by his side, he is about to enter and sit down at the table with Georgi, Uncle Jozef, and Baba Anya.

I blink my eyes and that image is gone. I must have imagined it. I'm sure if I go upstairs I will find him snoring along with Ucta and Odvaha. Just a few doors down from the room where our two princesses now rest. That broad smile returns to my face again as I think of Appollina—the same way, I am sure, that Paulek is thinking of her sister. Time will tell what stories we may share together, but as I look again at the tapestry I think I see two couples holding hands and sitting together on four thrones. Then, as usual, I lose that vision. Wishful thinking, mayhap. But a most pleasant wish.

I go through the hidden door and descend the long stairs. As I do so I think of the story that I was just told.

Are Georgi and Baba Anya and Uncle Jozef truly that old? Or are they merely the offspring of those who came before them, passing the teachings on down? I don't need to know the answer to that. If I've learned one thing in the last few days it is that every question does not need to be answered. A story is not true just because if its literal veracity. It is the message, what it teaches, that counts.

I know now that I have as many faults as anyone. One of them has been being too quick to judge others, especially my parents and my brother, Paulek—who is more like my father than I realized, in the best ways. And Father, I now see, is more than I thought he was. To say nothing of my mother. If I am to continue carrying some part of Pavol's spirit in this time, I must work to be worthy of the gifts my family and I have been given.

Thinking of carrying gifts, I have carried this one far enough. There, in front of me, is the stool where I first saw it. I place Pavol's pouch back in its place. It will be here waiting should I need it again, here deep in the heart of Hladka Hvorka, our ancestral home that also has another name. It is one that we do not share with everyone.

Dratchie Hrad.
Dragon Castle.

PAVOL THE GOOD and Karoline the Wise sat looking back at the kingdom they had ruled together with kindness and wisdom for so many years. On the other side of the river, the glittering fields of the Silver Lands waited.

“Now it is the turn of our children,” said Pavol.

“And their children's children after them,” said Karoline.

“May peace and justice be with them, said Pavol.

“And also our good friends who remain to guide them,” said Karoline.

“And our very big friend too,” a slightly sarcastic voice added from next to them.

Pavol reached over to pat the neck of Jedovaty.

“True enough,” said Pavol.

“And you will be with them, also, my lord,” Karoline said, leaning over to place a kiss on her husband's cheek. “Pavol will return when he is needed.”

Pavol nodded. “You, as well, my love,” he said, returning the kiss.

“What about me?” Jedovaty asked. “After all I've done, have I not earned the right for part of my spirit to remain and guide them?”

Pavol nodded again. “You are right, my friend. A faithful horse may be of use when, as it seems inevitable, the Dark Lord will seek to return.”

Jedovaty shook his head. “Not a horse. How about a dog? A dog gets to sit inside and sleep at the foot of the bed.”

“A very big dog?” Karoline asked.

“Why not
two
dogs?” Jedovaty added.

Pavol raised an eyebrow. “But with only half of your sarcasm?” Then he nodded a third time. “Why not, indeed. And, for that matter, why not two Pavols?”

Karoline smiled. “Or two princesses?”

Then they crossed the river.

R
ASHKO
:
Prince of Hladka Hvorka

P
AULEK
:
Prince of Hladka Hvorka, Rashko's his younger brother

F
ATHER
:
King

M
OTHER
:
Queen

G
EORGI
:
head retainer at Hladka Hvorka

B
LACK
Y
ANOSH
:
weapons master

Z
ELEZO
:
castle blacksmith

J
AZDA
:
head groom

H
REBEN
:
stableboy, Jazda's son

G
RACE
, G
RACE
, G
RACE
,
AND
C
HARITY: castle maids

U
NCLE
J
OZEF: village wise man

B
ABA
A
NYA: village herbalist, storyteller, and midwife

T
ERAZ (
A
PPOLLINA): first juggler

Z
ATCHNI (
V
ALENTINA): second juggler

P
RINCE
P
AVOL THE
G
OOD (OR FOOLISH)

T
HE
D
ARK
L
ORD
:
his adversary

U
NCLE
T
OMAS
:
Pavol's mentor

B
ABA
M
ARTA
:
Tomas's wife

J
EDOVATY
:
Pavol's steed

S
EDEM
:
the seven-headed dragon

B
ARON
T
EMNY

P
RINCESS
P
OTESHENIE

L
ASKA
:
the princess's cat

T
RUBA
:
Temny's herald

P
EKLO
:
bald, scar-faced mercenary

S
MOTANA
:
blond spade-bearded mercenary

C
IERNY
L
ES
:
the Black Forest

H
LADKA
H
VORKA
:
Smooth Hill, their castle

M
ESTO
:
nearby (and only) town in the kingdom

S
TARY
L
ES
:
the Old Forest

Ahoj
: hello

Ako ti je
: how are you?

Ano
: yes

Babovka
: a type of cake

Bezhte
: run

Blbec
: Idiot

Blyskat
: lightning

Boj
: fight

Brana
: gate

Bratcek
: small brother

Capitan
: captain

Cas
: time

Chlieb/Chleba
: bread

Cierny
: black

Citaj:
read

Csakaj
: wait

Dakujem
: thank you

Davaj pozor
: be careful

Dobre
: good

Dospej
: grow up

Dost
: enough

Do videnia
: good-bye

Dvere
: door

Dvihat
: to raise

Dvihatch
: gateman

Dyka
: knife

Hotovo
: ready

Hreben
: comb

Hyb sa
: move

Jazda
: ride

Jedovaty
: poisonous

Je mi luto
: I am sorry.

Kamarat
: comrade

Kolac
: pastries

Kruzit
: to circle

Lepshi
: better

Les
: forest

Matka
: mother

Mesto
: town

Milacik
: darling

Napred
: forward

Nerozumiem
: I do not understand

Nie
: no

Odvaha
: courage

Otec
: father

Otvorte:
open

Pan
: sir, mister

Petcheny chlieb
: baked bread

Pockaj:
wait

Pod
: come

Pomoc
: help

Poteshenie
: pleasure

Pozri
: look

Prejdi
: pass

Prepac
: sorry

Prestan
: stop

Prosim
: please

Pridi
: come

Pyrva
: first

Sadni si
: sit down

Sedem
: seven

Sedliak
: peasant

Skala
: big rock or boulder

Smrt
: death

Spat
: sleep

Stary
: old

Stavka
: strike

Strom
: tree

Svetlo
: light

Synovec
: nephew

Tam
: there

Temny
: dark

Teraz
: now

Trojky
: triad

Truba
: trumpet

Ucta
: honor

Udriet
: hit

Ukashte sa
: show yourselves

Utok
: attack

Vd'aka
: thank you

Velke
: big

Vietor
: wind

Vitaj
: welcome

Vyborne
: wonderful

Yedz
: eat

Zachinat
: to begin

Za nitch
: it is nothing (you're welcome)

Zapekane rezne
: Wiener Schnitzels

Zastav
: stop

Zelezo
: iron

Zial
: sorrow

Zly
: bad

Zmiznut
: to disappear

Znova
: again

Zobudit
: to wake up

Jeden/Jedna/Raz
: One

Dva/Dve
: Two

Traja/Tri
: Three

Styria/Styri
: Four

Pat
: Five

Sest
: Six

Sedem
: Seven

Osem
: Eight

Devat
: Nine

Desat
: Ten

BY JOSEPH BRUCHAC

 

 

 

DRAGON CASTLE is a fantasy novel. Its plot and characters are products of the author's imagination. However, the language of its characters and the overall country in which its imaginary kingdom is located are both very real and part of my own heritage. My father's parents, Joseph Bruchac and Appolina Hrdlicka, came to the United States from the city of Trnava in Slovakia—which was then a very small part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. Like thousands of other Slovaks seeking opportunity and freedom in a new land, they passed through Ellis Island in the early twentieth century and became American citizens.