Chapter 6
The dragon circled wide and flew nearly over them. Cwyth twisted his massive neck and looked directly at the two women. Mia peered from a tree she'd slipped behind. She could have sworn she saw the dragon nod his head.
The dragon was bigger than she had at first perceived. His wings looked black in the fading light, bat-like, pointed, spanning nearly sixty feet, more than enough to enable the dragon to glide over great distances. He executed controlled flaps of his wings, but slight movements of the tips enough to change course precisely to his liking. He flew by, and so close was he that Mia could feel wind from his wings and see the trails of dark smoke coming from his alligator-like mouth. Graceful was the deep, loud rippling noise of his wing beat, like a monstrous sheet being snapped vigorously as it was shaken out. The dragon passed them without another glance. Mia stayed behind the tree.
The dragon Cwyth rounded the far side of the farmhouse to approach from behind the stables. His mouth opened slightly. A stream of liquid fire spat from the beast’s mouth as if it were shot from a cannon, scoring a direct hit on a pile of hay stacked some distance behind the barn. Mia could hear the roar of it even at this distance. The members of the community were ready. As soon as they spotted the dragon, they had begun the task of fetching buckets from the fire shed. Upon spotting the fire, they rapidly set up a bucket brigade and began to douse the fire with water from the stock tanks. Mia learned later that they drilled for this.
The dragon turned sharply after igniting the pile of hay and banked hard to the right as he swept low to the ground, and so low was he that the tip of his right wing brushed the grasses in the pasture. Mia didn't grasp what he was up to until she noticed a small herd of spooked cattle. The dragon gained altitude, retracted his wings and went into a fast dive, as does a hawk. He extended his wings to slow himself as he reached his fleeing prey, then snatched up two of the cattle at the rear of the herd, one in each hind foot. She could hear the cattle wail, even at this distance. The dragon banked to the left and again came in their direction. Up he flew as he passed over them, then disappeared over the southerly treetops with the doomed bovine.
Marigaff turned to Mia. “Go back to the hall and tell the cooks that I’ll be delayed.” She spun on her heel, stomped off in the direction the dragon had gone, south through the woods. Mia was concerned and almost said something. Marigaff was walking into the dark wood at night, no road, and no path to follow. But then she reasoned that Marigaff probably knew what she was doing, dropped her arms to her side and made her way to the farmhouse to tell the cooks what Marigaff had said.
The dragon was at his home, a huge, lifeless pit surrounded by forest. The east wall of the pit was a rocky cliff. A deep cave gaped in the middle, which Cwyth used as his lair. The other sides of the pit were dirt slopes formed when the animal had excavated his home many years before. The forest was inundated with piles of the skeletal remains of various meals he had consumed through a time, everything from deer to horses. None of the bones were of the intelligent races, though. With a good deal of persuasion from Marigaff, he had 'lost his taste' for those meats centuries ago.
The great dragon Cwyth lay on his side with one giant front foot supporting his head and the other pinning the carcass to the ground. He leisurely gnawed on the back half of one of the prizes he had liberated earlier in the evening. Light cast about him from a large fire over which the second cow hung on a spit. Marigaff walked into the firelight opposite him, then stopped to confront the huge beast. He had, of course, been expecting her.
“Dragon Cwyth! You owe me for two cattle.”
“Come, come now, sorceress. Can you not even see it in you to spare a poor, defenseless dragon a few measly cows?” He barely looked up from his meal. Marigaff said nothing, arms crossed, glaring, foot tapping, frowning. “Very well, then,” the dragon sighed. He would have rolled his eyes if dragons could roll their eyes, which they can't, as the banana-shaped cornea doesn't allow that sort of motion. He feigned irritation by slamming the half cow to the ground with a dull, dusty thunk, acting as if greatly inconvenienced. He reached along the wall behind him and dragged a sizable chest full of gold and jewels from the cave.
“Take as you will, sorceress. You grew tasty cattle this year.” He went back to his feast.
“And hay,” she said. Cwyth motioned with a wave to the treasure. “Be there not deer and oxen about, Dragon Cwyth?”
“Of course there are, sorceress. Beef is my fancy at this time.” He resumed his gnawing. She knew better than to argue the point, for as everyone knows, dragons are hopelessly stubborn. Not to mention that her cattle were now in a non-returnable condition. And she wouldn’t dream of attempting to take the dragon’s meal from him.
“I’m pleased that you had your fun, even though it be at my expense. Dragon Cwyth! Pay attention to me!” She stood with hands on hips.
“I am, sorceress, I am,” he said without a pause in his feast.
“The time of the Reading of the Book of Life is upon us, dragon Cwyth. You need to stay alert!”
Cwyth ceased his chewing, set the carcass down, extended his neck over the fire and stopped his muzzle inches from Marigaff’s face. He tipped his head slightly. “So the Carrier has been transformed.”
Marigaff nodded once. “That was she with me you saw at your marauding.”
Cwyth laughed. “Your esteemed Carrier hid from me behind a tree?! That's like hiding from an arrow behind paper!” He laughed at his own wit. Dragons have such egos that they hardly ever laugh at anything but themselves. Marigaff did not share the humor with him.
“She is innocent, so are they all. Mind your manners around Miagaff, dragon Cwyth!”
“Miagaff?! She’s a wizard?” His laughter renewed. “Why, sorceress, she’d hardly be an appetizer for me!” He paused but for a second. “Appetizer!” He roared in laughter. Fire spewed from his mouth in all directions. Marigaff decided on a bit of personal safety.
“Ralafas eshemal du!” (Fire avert me!) Marigaff pointed her staff, Bielle Marre, at the dragon, who was unconcerned about the action. He knew that the power of Saa could not effect him, at least not directly.
“Wizard!!” Cwyth paused, barely able to contain himself. “Appetizer!!” Again the dragon roared in fits of laughter. Fire that flew from him sometimes came toward Marigaff. As the flame was about to hit her, it curved and diverted its searing path to either side only to soar harmlessly through the air behind. When Cwyth saw this, he stopped laughing. He stood on his hind legs and towered above her. His long neck reared back into an “s” shape. He did not take his eyes from her. Marigaff walked toward the treasure chest. She ignored Cwyth. The dragon drew a great breath and released a torrent of his most ferocious flame directly at Marigaff from but a few yards away. The unseen force, the force of Saa, averted the flame from her, leaving her unscathed. The dragon stopped and stared as if he did not believe what he had just witnessed. He then burst into laughter and fell backward to his side with an earth-shaking boom. Marigaff selected a few gold coins in honest compensation for the cattle and hay.
“You are a stubborn overgrown lizard, dragon Cwyth.” She smiled and shook her head. She and Cwyth had been friends, after a fashion, for eons. It began when they had allied during the Centaurian-Mantid war some nine hundred years before. Since then they had been neighbors, and allied in many other skirmishes. Cwyth was a wise dragon, but still he was a dragon. Dragons had egos; they stole cattle and sheep and treasures; they were vain, greedy, smart, and they were unaffected by Saa. At least he did respect her farm, for the most part. He had taken the intelligent races off his menu; for that, she did give him credit. He also agreed to not burn buildings, though he did insist on burning at least something every now and then. He was, after all, a dragon, and dragons do like to burn things. So Marigaff complied, as long as she received compensation. In return, Cwyth would do Marigaff an occasional favor. It could be worse, she knew. In fact, it was, if you happened to live elsewhere. In
Slagg, for instance, where the dragon Creggar was not so discerning or kind. Or in the Land of Desolation, where the dragon Corgg really didn't care for company of any sort. The final of the only four dragons of Morrah, Cinndar, though by far the biggest, was the most gentle. He was the self-appointed keeper of the Plains of the Great Beasts of Awlland, not that anyone would dispute his claim. Cinndar was primarily concerned about maintaining the wild herds of large animals that roamed said plains, and allowed no interference with them from the intelligent races, though he loved entertaining visitors. Many would call on his hospitalities when on the Plain of the Great Beasts.
Marigaff pocketed the coins she had taken from Cwyth's treasures and started climbing the steep embankment of the north side of the huge pit. She spoke in a normal tone of voice. “Great day, dragon Cwyth.” He heard, despite his roaring laughter.
He slowed his laughing to a snicker for just a moment. “Great day, sorceress! Appetizer!” He continued with his uncontrolled laughing.
Marigaff strolled through the woods for a while, the sound of Cwyth’s laughing fits breaking the night silence. After a mile or so, she stopped. She held her Bielle Marre before her and invoked Saa. “Stelta reamma! Osterroho du ah duo Llameste!” (Kind elk! Provide me to my home!) As the words left her lips, a huge elk walked from the dark woods and stood beside her. She mounted the elk in the manner one would a horse, then properly seated herself. The steed trotted off through the woods at good speed in the direction of Marigaff’s Farm, Marigaff riding with practiced ease.
Two weeks later Mia had still forgotten to ask Marigaff where she’d gone on the evening of the dragon attack. Not that she was afraid of Marigaff; in fact, she knew that she could ask or tell Marigaff just about anything. What she was afraid of, well, not so much afraid of as much as overwhelmed with, was the constant many things happening that were so foreign to her. She was learning to ride a horse, and was doing pretty good. She was studying the geography of Morrah, reading mostly of Awlland and Slagg. She took in some history. Her favorite subject was a class taught from a book entitled "The Races of Morrah", which was all about the intelligent races of the planet: humans, elves, fairies, sylphs, dwarfs, Mumbwe, Mantids, trolls, dragons, sea serpents, whales and something called the ‘husbandmen’. Tree was even in the book. The class, which enrolled only Mia, probably because everyone else already knew the material, went as deep as to cover how the races interacted with each other. She practiced Saa by uprooting small unwanted trees, loading hay, forming things with smoke (one of her favorites), cooking, gathering motherberries, and once scared some horses that were being trained by a few stable boys. She even caught a half dozen sheep on fire, quite by accident, and she did say she was sorry to the people who had to put them out. She didn't care to think of that one.
Mia had the opportunity to go running with Aaramerielle about every other day. Marigaff actually encouraged it, much to the delight of the two young ladies, and it was during these runs that Mia would visit with the elf girl, asking many questions about Morrah and its particulars. Aaramerielle was unquenchable in her willingness to teach anything that Mia wanted (with the exception of Saa invocations), a good balance of the teacher being as eager as the student. Mia found herself immersed in learning all about her new world; it was all so...new! Aaramerielle turned out to be her biggest source of information. Mia gave her close attention; she had a feeling that Aaramerielle’s alliance would some day be invaluable.
Marigaff had left the farm some six days prior on what she called a 'task'. She left suddenly, and hadn’t told Mia where she was going or what she was doing, only that Mia was in Aaramerielle’s charge. She rarely left the farm at all, at least not for extended periods of time like this. Mia was becoming concerned, though Aaramerielle told her that there was really nothing to worry about.