The Finding (6 page)

Jahrra’s expression of disbelief turned to one of enthusiasm and even Scede and Gieaun brightened as they imagined riding atop a dragon. Jahrra scuttled over to the decrepit stone staircase that flanked the doorway into the Ruin. She smiled at her friends confidently as she climbed the stairs and came level with Hroombra’s thorny back.

Gieaun and Scede watched in awe as she grabbed a hold of one of Hroombra’s worn spikes and hauled herself onto his cool, rough back. Once she gained her balance and breath Jahrra beamed down at her friends. “The trick,” she breathed, “is sitting between the spikes.”

Hroombra turned his great head, almost knocking Jahrra off balance, and grinned down at the two timorous children that stood before him.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Scede reluctantly climbed the steps, swallowed and took a deep breath. Jahrra thought he looked a little like a kitten determined to make a big jump. He grabbed the bony spike just behind Jahrra and pulled himself up with excessive force, almost throwing himself clear over Hroombra’s back. His sister was next, releasing a tiny squeak as she pulled herself up. Finally the three of them were perched precariously upon the great dragon’s back, looking a lot like stranded sailors lying across the keel of a capsized boat.

Hroombra turned his great head to view the children once more and chuckled at the sight.

“I promise to walk slowly,” he said, “but it may take some getting used to.”

And with that the great reptile left the ruined building behind, crossing the wide field and heading north along the old road that twisted down the side of the Great Sloping Hill.

-
Chapter Four
-

Surviving the First Day of School

Hroombra’s ambling trek down the twisting dirt road was both soothing and refreshing to the anxious children. The road itself was wide and smooth like a great lazy snake creeping through the autumn-dried fields. The view of the farmlands and distant ocean from the bluff’s edge was off to their left but Jahrra had trouble seeing past the few trees that grew on the brink, even from the height of a dragon’s back. Instead she turned her sights to the looming Wreing Florenn on the other side of the road, looking like a sleeping monster basking in the early morning light.

Jahrra felt Scede shift behind her to get a better look at the landscape surrounding them. Once he was finally settled she relaxed a bit and breathed in the scent of fresh morning dew, smiling inwardly as the group crossed the Danu Creek. The bridge that spanned this small waterway was wide and made of heavy logs, creaking irritably as Hroombra set his weight to it.

“Have no fear,” he said, shocking the children into an attentive posture, “it’ll hold.”

Jahrra had no doubt that it would but when she glanced back at Gieaun and Scede she could tell they hadn’t been so sure. Between the creaks and groans of the old bridge Jahrra heard the bubbling of the shallow water below. She was sure that if it wasn’t for Hroombra’s deep breathing, the noisy complaints of the bridge and the anxious sounds coming from Gieaun and Scede every now and then behind her, she would’ve been able to hear the water trickling over the bluff’s edge several yards away.

Gieaun and Scede released two small sighs of relief when Hroombra finally stepped back onto solid ground. Jahrra sighed too, but not out of concern. The cool morning air felt wonderfully refreshing as it coated her lungs, leaving the distinct taste of fire smoke behind. She smiled dreamily, leaning into Hroombra’s vast, soft neck and listened to his deep, strong heartbeat.

It wasn’t long, however, before Jahrra was pulled away from her relaxed pose. The view from the road was beginning to shift and she could now see the fields far below, their dark furrows of earth dressed in the rich colors of early autumn’s ripening crops. Jahrra and her new friends now passed the time searching for the slivers of white dunes and glinting sea peeking between the trunks of tall trees, pointing and gasping at the delightful sight.

Hroombra chuckled and picked up his lumbering pace forcing Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede to grasp for his spikes to keep from sliding off. He gently ruffled his leathery wings before folding them back up again as they resumed their light flapping sound as they brushed against his flanks.

About halfway down the winding road, Jahrra saw something that took complete control of her attention. “Oh, Master Hroombra! What’s this place again?” she squealed as she pointed at two degraded stone towers tucked into the woods to their right.

They resembled the tower at the Castle Guard Ruin but besides the dead ivy and forest debris piled against them, they looked relatively undamaged.

“Those two turrets once marked the entrance to the great castle of Oescienne. Very long ago there was a bridge spanning between the tops of them with a massive gate at their base. Anyone wishing to visit the king or queen would have to enter through that strong gate. This way the king’s soldiers could make sure no one wishing harm upon their majesties entered the castle grounds.”

Jahrra looked on in wonder, trying hard to picture every last detail her mentor described. Behind her she could sense Gieaun and Scede leaning forward to get a better look and she imagined they too were trying to picture it.

Hroombra continued on as the children listened, “The entire castle was once surrounded by a great wall. There was another much larger tower just on the other side of this road, on that small hill there.”

Hroombra nodded to a smaller path leading down to a hillock jutting off the western side of the road. Jahrra couldn’t see a tower; all she could see was a small grove of trees with a ring of weathered stone resembling a fire pit and the bare earth within it.

“What happened to the king and queen?” Gieaun queried in a meek voice.

Hroombra turned his great head, a troubled look etched on his creased face. “That, my child, is a story for another time, but not for today.”

Although Hroombra had used a gentle voice the hint of sorrow lingering within it caused Gieaun to hunch down like a scolded dog. Jahrra realized with mild irritation that they wouldn’t be visiting the castle ruin today. She slumped a little and like Gieaun, she wondered what had happened to the king of Oescienne. If there was a castle and people to guard it, how could there no longer be a king? Jahrra shook her head, trying her best to be content with the sights around her as they continued on down the hill and into the farmland. She would have to find out the answers to her questions another day.

The trip to Aldehren, which would have taken an hour in a cart, took twice as long with Hroombra’s slow pace. The children didn’t mind, however; they used this time to get to know their carrier and it wasn’t every day one got to take a ride on a dragon’s back. Gieaun got up the courage to ask Hroombra if he could breathe fire and he happily demonstrated this by breathing a stream of deep red flame that seemed to split the air. The children clapped in delight and even Scede smiled and joined in.

When they finally reached the bottom of the hill Hroombra promptly turned northwest taking the road with a sign that read
Aldehren
,
Hassett Town
and
Toria Town
. The fields that stood between the Great Sloping Hill and Aldehren were practically deserted but the few people that were out on this fine morning stopped to watch curiously, or cautiously, as the huge dragon carrying three young children passed by.

Jahrra thought they looked like rag dolls bent over their fields, nurturing the delicate plants that stood stark and helpless in the chill air. Some of the farmers leaned against shovels and rakes in order to give their aching backs a rest. Jahrra waved hesitantly but the people just continued to stare like living statues, probably too far away to have seen the gesture. Their tiny crude stone houses littered the flatlands like large boulders overgrown with sod. If it hadn’t been for the narrow tendrils of smoke curling from their green roofs, or the glint of the sun reflecting off their minute windows, Jahrra would’ve dismissed the huts as eroding piles of rocks.

Jahrra sighed and turned her attention back to Hroombra’s stories, failing to notice the other farmers coming out of their houses to see the rare sight of a dragon walking through their fields. These people had seen Hroombra before, of course, and they even remembered seeing a large dragon flying overhead some five or six years ago. It was an uncommon sight to see a dragon and was well worth a break in their important work to stop and take a look, even though they knew this particular dragon lived atop the flat hill looming above them.

The three children were so caught up in Hroombra’s stories that they hardly noticed the miles ticking by. The next time Jahrra bothered to take in her surroundings she realized just how far they’d traveled. The vast farmlands were tapering off and a few small hills, looking like nodules covered in tawny velvet, rose up around them. A few small clumps of scattered woodlands spread out like a great, patchy quilt of green, red and gold, and the flat farmland was beginning to dip and climb into rolling fields.

Hroombra rounded the last small grouping of hillocks and finally the town of Aldehren tumbled into view. Jahrra clutched tightly to the spike she’d been hanging onto as Gieaun and Scede craned forward to get a better look. The low, primitive cabins of the fields had been replaced by sturdy houses built of cultivated stone with smaller, fenced-in yards surrounding them. In the distance Jahrra heard the buzz of society and soon Hroombra’s large claws were clicking against smooth cobblestones instead of digging into soft earth.

The empty street quickly became dotted with people scurrying about on their morning business. As soon as they saw the giant reptile ambling down the center of the road, however, they froze on the spot and gaped with fear and awe. Jahrra found it funny how Hroombra left a wake of silence behind him as they made their way deeper and deeper into the heart of the city.

Several small children, too young yet to go to school, clung to their mothers’ skirts, eyeing the great dragon warily. Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede waved merrily, encouraging several of them to smile and trot cautiously after them only to be discouraged by their chastising parents.

“Master Hroombra,” Jahrra said quietly so that only the old dragon could hear, “why’s everyone staring and getting out of the way like that?”

Hroombra took a while to answer but finally he turned his head slightly and said, “Because they never see dragons, Jahrra. I come into town seldom and I’m the only dragon in Oescienne.”

“Why are there no other dragons in Oescienne?” Jahrra pressed, wondering to herself why she’d never asked him this before.

Again, Hroombra paused before answering, “The complete answer to that question is something not ready for such young ears to hear.”

Jahrra squished up her face, revealing a small dimple on her left cheek. When Hroombra used that phrase it meant he wouldn’t be telling her the whole answer.
Why do adults always have to be so secretive?
she wondered in frustration.

Jahrra forgot about her ire when Hroombra began talking once again, “I will tell you this however: the world is a large place with many people and many different ideas, and one of those ideas is that dragons are troublesome creatures. People hear stories and fear we might burn down their village or eat their livestock. Most dragons don’t do this but too many people believe the tales they are told. Most of my kind now live in secret places where we can be at peace, but not all of us. Does this answer your question?”

No
, Jahrra thought ruefully even as she signaled her compliance,
at least not all the way
. She wondered why people believed the stories about dragons being dangerous but she withheld any other inquiries. When Hroombra ended an explanation with another question she knew he was finished with the topic.

Jahrra soon forgot about the distracted and disapproving townspeople. She was dazzled by the shops with their crooked hanging signs and intricate window displays. The stores had everything for sale from professionally tailored dresses and suits to garden tools and small wagons. Every so often she’d catch a glimpse of a grungy, gritty alley and just as soon as it appeared it disappeared once again. She was always amazed that buildings could be built so close together and wondered what it would be like to live so near to one’s neighbors.

Jahrra breathed a sigh of relief and leaned into Hroombra’s great neck for comfort, closing her eyes and allowing her other senses to take over. The sun felt like a warm fire as it beat down upon her face creating quite a contrast compared to Hroombra’s cool, scaly skin. She heard the clinking of harnesses, the clucking of chickens, the bleating of sheep and goats and the snorting of horses. She listened to the shouts of more children running away from the dragon walking down the street and she even heard the chinking of the blacksmith’s shop several blocks away.

Familiar smells of smoke and manure filled the air and the clean swish of a horse’s tail nearby finally convinced Jahrra to open her eyes. The scene had changed; there were no longer crowded stone and wooden houses surrounding them but a few compact cottages propped up between small groves of young redwood trees. They’d left the main road and were now on one of the more narrow paths leading away from the center of town.

Jahrra blinked and glanced over her shoulder. Gieaun and Scede looked distracted by the stables on the left but directly behind them Jahrra saw life returning to normal on the main road. The people who’d been avoiding Hroombra quickly filled in the space he had created, leaving behind no evidence that three children riding a dragon had ever passed through.

The lane Hroombra took rose gently, twining between the redwoods that dappled the path in shade. Soon the dull red walls of a stone cabin pushed their way through the ruddy brown and deep green of the trees. The cabin was rather large and Jahrra noticed that it had a steep sloping roof, a towering chimney, and great dust coated windows. Oak and laurel trees gathered in the gully around the schoolhouse like chilled campers hunched around a fire and several large chunks of granite littered the yard.

“Well, children,” Hroombra said, sounding slightly out of breath, “welcome to your schoolhouse.”

Hroombra stopped just outside the front of the building and allowed the children to slide off of his back. Once on solid ground the three of them gazed around in wonderment. Although the structure was built amongst trees, there was a small hollow and a tiny meadow on one side of the yard. To the building’s right, in another small clearing, Jahrra spotted tables and benches. The whole scene had a musty and shaded atmosphere, but Jahrra smiled brightly anyway, feeling for the first time that she might truly enjoy school.

“It looks like we’re the first ones here,” Hroombra commented casually, taking in the dormant scene.

The schoolyard was vacant and the road below was deserted, but soon the emptiness was disrupted by the sound of a horse and carriage drifting up the main road. The children and dragon looked in the direction of the faint clatter and saw a very clean and beautiful yolk-colored carriage emerging over the small incline of the road. This cart was much nicer than the hay wagon Jahrra always took to the Castle Guard Ruin. It was obviously a well-maintained family vehicle and was drawn by two matching snowy horses fitted with intricately carved leather harnesses.