Chapter Nine

 

Prince Josiah stared in dismay at the broken pieces of eggshell. The unthinkable had happened—the dragon’s egg had hatched—and the dreadful realization struck him like a blow from a broadsword. The peasant in the forest had assured him that hatching was an impossibility; the egg had been dead for two centuries. But the pieces of broken shell gave evidence that there had indeed been a hatching. He, Prince Josiah, the son of King Emmanuel, was responsible for hatching a Cararian Greatwing dragon. At that very moment, somewhere in the halls and chambers of the Castle of Faith, a young dragon was lurking.

His mind reeled. He was close to panic. How dangerous was a hatchling Cararian Greatwing? Should he alert Sir Watchful, the castle constable, so that the two garrisons of knights could search the castle and destroy the dragon? Should he keep quiet? Were the castle inhabitants in danger?

He took a deep breath and held it, trying to steady himself and calm his pounding heart. If he warned Sir Watchful of the dragon’s existence, he would be forced to explain its presence in the castle. The truth would be out, and King Emmanuel would know that he had hatched a dragon. Perhaps it would be better if he could locate the dragon and destroy it himself. Trembling uncontrollably, he drew his sword.

He stepped to the window and peered out. The little dragon could not be more than an hour old, two hours at most. Would a Cararian Greatwing be capable of flying that soon after hatching? Shaking his head, he admitted to himself that he had no way of knowing. He stepped away from the window.

Think, he admonished himself. This dragon is all your fault! You had better do something, and you had better do it quickly. If the dragon kills or injures someone… He pushed the thought from his mind. What should I do? Should I tell Sir Watchful? Should I tell Sir Faithful? The castle residents must be warned, but then, I will have to explain…

He ran to the solar door, jerked it open, and, standing on the sentry walk, quickly surveyed the west bailey. No dragon. He leaned over the inner wall and hurriedly scanned the barbican between the inner and outer walls. Nothing.

I’ll search the castle myself while I determine a course of action, he decided. If I can find the dragon and destroy it myself, no one else will ever need to know what happened. If I can’t find it, well, then I’ll have to tell someone. He hurried down the stairs toward the bailey.

A sentry passed him on the stairs. “Is the castle under attack, my lord?”

Josiah stopped cold. “Under attack?”

“You’re rushing down the stairs with a sword in your hand,” the knight replied with a hint of a smile. “I thought that perhaps—”

“Oh.” Josiah held the weapon against his side. When it transformed itself into the book, he thrust it hastily inside his doublet. Thoroughly embarrassed, he tried to explain. “Nay, we’re not under attack, sire. I was just—oh, never mind.” He turned and hurried down the stairs.

When he reached the bailey, he glanced back up at the sentry and then hurriedly searched the entire courtyard. No sign of a dragon. He darted to the east bailey and quickly searched, even walking through the shrubbery to make certain that the hatchling dragon was not lurking there. He kept his hand on the book, ready to draw his sword.

He entered the stables. He had kept the egg in the loft—would the dragon have returned there? He darted toward the ladder that led to the loft.

“Prince Josiah, what is your hurry?”

Josiah whirled around, startled at the voice, to find Sir Preparation, the castle armorer, preparing to shoe a horse. The little man laughed. “Don’t let me keep you from something important, my prince. You came dashing in here as if you were being pursued by a dragon.”

“I—I’m looking for something, sir,” Josiah stammered, “and I must admit that I am in a bit of a hurry.”

“May I help you find it, my lord?”

Josiah shook his head. “Please continue with your work. I’ll find it soon, I’m sure.” Hoping that Sir Preparation would be satisfied with the vague explanation, he turned and hurried up the ladder. Struggling to hold back a rising sense of panic, he searched the hayloft as quickly as possible. No dragon. He descended the ladder and searched the stables, moving from stall to stall as rapidly as possible.

“Didn’t find it, my lord?” Sir Preparation sympathized. “Please let me know if I may be of assistance.”

Josiah nodded. “I thank you, sir.” He hurried from the stables.

His mind was in turmoil as he rushed across the bailey to search the great hall. What shall I do if I cannot find the hatchling? he worried. Should I tell Sir Watchful? What will he say when he finds out that I have hatched a dragon? What will Sir Faithful say?

In twenty desperate minutes the young prince managed to search a large part of the castle. Dashing down corridors, darting up and down stairs, and ducking through doorways, he quickly searched the kitchen, the armory, the garderobes, and even scanned some of the solars, but the young dragon was nowhere to be found. Josiah’s anxiety increased as the search progressed. Where could the young dragon have gone?

Perhaps the hatchling has found a way to get out of the castle, he thought. I need to search the forest and the moors. He hurried back to the stables.

“Still searching, my lord?” Sir Preparation greeted him. “Perhaps I may help?”

The young prince shook his head. “I just want to take the mare out for a short jaunt.”

“Of course, my lord. Allow me to saddle her for you.”

Moments later, Josiah reined to a stop at the edge of the castle drawbridge. Unless the dragon can already fly, he told himself, it couldn’t have gone far. With the Sea of Conviction to the south and the west of the castle, all I have to do is search the woods and the moors to the north and the east. I doubt if the dragon could have yet reached the village.

He spent the next thirty minutes riding through the forest and the moors, anxiously scanning the area for any sign of the little dragon. He searched each thicket, each draw, each windbreak, but the creature was not to be found. At last, alarmed at his failure to locate the creature, he returned to the castle. He rode the mare to the stables.

The stable boy took the mare’s reins as Josiah dismounted. “I’ll rub her down well, my lord,” he said, eyeing the horse’s sweaty flanks. “You must have ridden her hard.”

“Aye, that I did,” Josiah replied curtly. He gave the mare a pat on the neck and hurried from the stable.

Back in his solar, he approached the falcon’s cage. “I really don’t know what to do, Lightning,” he said, addressing the bird. “I can’t find the dragon anywhere, yet I cannot go to Sir Faithful or Sir Watchful. King Emmanuel must not find out that I have hatched a dragon, for my disobedience would bring sorrow to his heart. I just do not know what to do.”

Lightning didn’t reply.

The young prince stepped to the window and looked out at the sparkling waters of the bay. “Where can that dragon be?” he asked, thinking aloud. “If the dragon can fly already, it is undoubtedly far away by now. I did not search the entire castle, for some of the solars were occupied, but the dragon could not be there, for it would have been noticed when it entered. I searched the woods and the moors, but perhaps it was able to travel faster and farther than I anticipated.” He sighed. “I suppose there is nothing more that I can do.”

He turned toward the bed. “I do need to dispose of the eggshells, though.” He knelt to retrieve the fragments of eggshell, and at that moment, he thought he heard a faint cry, like the mewing of a kitten. He paused, holding his breath and listening intently. He heard it again. Josiah frowned. This was the same cry he had heard out on the moor when he was about to crush the egg.

He waited, listening intently, but the sound was not repeated. Finally, he shrugged and began gathering the fragments of eggshell from beneath the coverlet. When his hands were full, he realized that he had nowhere to dispose of the pieces without arousing suspicions. I can’t take them to the kitchens or to the trash port, he told himself, for someone might see me. The garderobe! I can throw them down the hole in the garderobe.

Josiah stood and cautiously opened his solar door just a crack. Putting his eye to the crack, he surveyed the bailey and the sentry walk. No one is about. If I can just make it over to the garderobe without being seen…

He froze. The strange cry came again, so faint he could barely hear it and sounding very much like a kitten in distress. The sound was coming from under the bed! Dropping the pieces of eggshell on the coverlet, the young prince knelt and peered beneath the bed. Nothing but shadows.

He frowned. I heard the sound. I know I did. And it certainly sounded like it was coming from under the bed. But what could be making such a strange noise? He walked around the other side of the bed, knelt, and peered into the darkness again.

And then he saw it. Huddled against the bed post, almost invisible in the shadows, was a strange little creature unlike anything he had ever seen. The extraordinary creature, whatever it was, had pale, translucent skin, with scaly legs that terminated in claws like a bird. An oversized mouth kept opening and closing. It looks like a four-legged chicken without feathers or a beak, the young prince thought. What a pitiful little thing. I wonder where it came from, and how it got here.

Trembling and crying softly, the bizarre little creature moved toward the other side of the bed, away from Josiah. Whatever it is, it’s afraid of me, the young prince realized. I must move slowly so as not to frighten it. Dropping to his belly, he crawled slowly under the bed, moving just inches at a time.

Watching Josiah’s every move, the little creature crept backwards until it was cornered between the bed and the chiffonnier and could go no further. It sat trembling, watching, bobbing its little head up and down in a pitiful manner. Josiah carefully scooted closer. Spreading his hands wide, he reached toward the little creature, which gave a cry of alarm. Spreading tiny, batlike wings, it tried to scramble away. But the animal was trapped against the wall and could go no further.

Josiah carefully cupped his hands around the trembling creature and gently pulled it toward him. “Don’t be frightened, little fellow,” he said in a soft, crooning voice. “I won’t hurt you.”

Drawing the pitiful creature against his chest, Josiah carefully slid from beneath the bed and stood to his feet. He used one hand to create a nest-like opening in the folds of the coverlet and then gently placed the peculiar little animal into it. Immediately the creature ducked its head in an effort to burrow into the material. Josiah cupped his hands around the coverlet, molding the fabric around the trembling body in an attempt to soothe it. He reached out and stroked the little head with one finger.

“Never before have I seen a creature such as you,” he said softly. “You’re a frail little thing, aren’t you? But where did you come from, and how did you ever get into my solar?”

Josiah glanced toward the falcon’s cage. “Well, Lightning, it looks as if I now have two pets.” He chuckled as he stroked the trembling creature huddled helplessly in the coverlet. “I might have found you sooner, little fellow, but I’ve been busy searching for a dragon, and—”

He gasped as a sudden realization hit him with the abruptness of an arrow from a longbow. The pitiful creature in his hands was the hatchling dragon. He was holding a baby Cararian Greatwing!