“I wanted to know my father. He’s English. My parents divorced when I was four and I never saw much of him. My mother died in a motor vehicle accident five years ago. I didn’t have other family in New Zealand, so it wasn’t a tough decision to move to England.” And she’d thought she’d escape Tony. Unfortunately, her husband had learned her father possessed money and he’d clung to their wedding vows and followed her to the UK. It was a pity he hadn’t behaved that way during their years together. His constant cheating, the last time with her friend, had been the impetus for her to kick him out and make changes.
“Do you enjoy living over here?” Tom asked.
“I do. My daughter loves it, and we’ve made friends in the village where we live.”
“You have a daughter?” Miriam asked.
“Joanna. She’s six-years-old.”
Liza reached for a sandwich and caught Tom’s furtive gaze on her plate. He’d finished his scone, his plate holding mere crumbs. “Have a ham sandwich, Tom. I doubt I’ll get through them.” She nudged the plate in his direction. “Now, this dragon. Describe him to me.”
Tom and Miriam exchanged a glance.
“You color the scene, Tom,” Miriam prompted and added. “This tale has passed down through generations of Tom’s family, even though this encounter supposedly occurred hundreds of years ago.”
Tom lifted his cup and swallowed a mouthful of tea. “The dragon was black as midnight. A gigantic beast. I heard his teeth were half an arm in length, but folks might’ve exaggerated. The villagers spotted him flying through the sky long before he reached the castle walls—such was his massive wingspan. Soldiers shot arrows at him. The creature roared, and its fiery breath rippled over a wheat field, setting the crop on fire. For a while, the villagers feared the dragon might retaliate and attack, for he was a ferocious beast. His black scales sparkled under the sun, and malice glittered in the creature’s red eyes. Aye, a formidable sight, this demon beast. While the villagers raced to put out the fire, the dragon landed on the castle battlements.”
“The castle on the village outskirts?” Liza asked, recalling the ruins she’d driven past before entering the village center.
“The very one.” Miriam leaned nearer, caught up in the tale. “Can you imagine the shock of an enormous dragon turning up without warning?”
“You said the dragon had red eyes? That sounds unusual.”
“My grandfather told me what his grandfather told him,” Tom said. “The creature had irises the color of green gemstones, but when his mood worsened, the dragon’s eyes turned red. At the height of his rage, the dragon’s eyes resembled rubies.”
“An estimate of his wingspan?”
Tom scratched his chin. “From what I’ve heard, the creature cast a massive shadow. I was told the dragon wielded his tail, knocking a dozen men to the ground as they attempted to creep up behind him.”
“The dragon most likely smelled them. Our ancestors weren’t as keen on bathing as us.” Liza jotted notes in her standard shorthand. “Did any of the arrows pierce his body or was his hide too thick?”
“That I don’t know,” Tom said.
“If the dragon grew angry and attacked in return,” Miriam said. “My guess is at least one arrow struck the beast. I understand the local museum has a handwritten account of the attack. A priest witnessed the dragon’s arrival and mentioned the excitement in his monthly update to his superior. The museum curator opens several days a week.”
Tom scratched his chin. “I’m uncertain of today’s hours.”
“I’ll check once we’re finished. What happened after the dragon perched on the castle walls?”
A chuckle burst from Tom. “You’ll never guess. He only went to sleep.”
“He had a snooze.” Miriam chortled. “You’d think the dragon might’ve wanted to find food, or wreak revenge, but no. He went to sleep.”
Liza tapped her pen on her notebook. “From what I’ve learned, dragons were intelligent creatures and misunderstood. In those days, people feared what they didn’t understand. Perhaps the dragon required a haven.”
“Mayhap,” Tom said. “But you’re right about the villagers being afeared. The most important thing on their minds was getting the dragon to leave, or even better, killing the creature. They were holding a market day. Drovers had driven livestock into the village—sheep, pigs, goats, and horses to sell. There were jugglers to entertain the people, fortune-tellers for the lassies, a pie merchant, a bread vendor. Old crones hawking apples and others embroidered handkerchiefs. The dragon’s arrival spoiled their fun while the drovers worried the beast might seize their livestock for a snack.”
“What did they do?” Liza asked.
As always, Liza experienced a sneaking sympathy for the mythical dragon. Humans had misunderstood and underappreciated the legendary creatures, the tales she’d researched full of knights and locals who’d bested the magnificent beasts. She imagined meeting a dragon if she’d been alive hundreds of years ago, and the questions she might ask if the creature could communicate with her. Was it exhilarating soaring through the sky? What was their favorite snack? Was there a dragon language? Was it easy to learn? Yes, so many questions. A grin curled across her lips. Her father had told Liza her thirst for knowledge could drive a man to drink. Curiosity hadn’t worked with Tony. He’d hit her whenever he’d decided she needed to cease her chatter.
“Well, one of the castle soldiers was a wily, battle-hardened man. He picked up his bow and arrow and a bright red shawl,” Tom said.
“You’ll never guess what he did next,” Miriam said, her brown eyes wide with anticipation.
“What?” Liza asked, content to let the expectation build.
“This soldier waded into the river that ran past the castle walls. Once he stood in the middle, he shot the dragon with an arrow. An extraordinary shot since the arrow hit the dragon on his vulnerable belly. The beast awoke with a mighty bellow and spied the man in the river. The soldier draped the red shawl over his head and dived beneath the surface of the water. He swam underwater until he reached the far bank of the river and crawled into the trees.
