Read Online Handbook for Dragon Slayers by Merrie Haskell - Free Book Online

Nerluc was the sign of the cross. When she made the sign, the dragon grew docile and just let her bind him with her girdle, after which the people of Nerluc stabbed the dragon with spears.
    â€œWe’re still not holy enough for that to work,” Judith said. “But it makes sense: Dragons are evil, so holiness is the best way to defeat them.”
    â€œAnd Saint Marthe was holier than most,” I said. “Her sister was Mary Magdalene. We need fewer saint stories and more regular dragon slayer stories. Did Sir Kunibert ever tell you about his battles?”
    â€œHe always said that practice was far more important than stories,” Parz said. “I should tell you, I found resin and pitch for sale in King’s Winter.”
    â€œSeems a little early to buy resin and pitch,” I said. “I haven’t even set down a word in the Handbook yet.”
    â€œMaybe a little early,” Parz agreed, and we fell silent for a time.
    My head tipped over onto Parz’s chest, and—my thoughts confused—I wondered when I would start to feel free and relieved about abandoning Alder Brook to Ivo. I had done the right thing, hadn’t I? The people of Alder Brook, from Aged Arnolt to Roswitha, and every tenant farmer, unfree knight, blacksmith, and priest who lived on our lands or owed service to the family would be happier this way. Ivo had two strong legs. No one would look at him and think about curses. No one would wonder if he could attract a good spouse. No one would blame him for my father’s death or think he brought misfortune. He wouldn’t administer Alder Brook better than I could, but just by being their prince he would make everyone happier.
    Including me.
    My thoughts circled away from those uncomfortable subjects and drifted to dragon blood and dragon gold, and how I would record Fafnir’s story in the Handbook . I was still tracing words on my thigh when I fell quite deeply asleep.
    I WOKE WHEN THE horse halted.
    â€œTime to stop for the night,” Parz said, and bounced to the ground.
    â€œHere?” I asked, looking around me for a sign of a guesthouse or any sort of house at all.
    â€œHere,” Parz said firmly, and reached up to swing me down from the horse. I bit my lip against a moan of pain when my stiffened legs caught my weight.
    Judith saw my expression and scrambled down from her horse to bring me my crutch.
    â€œTilda could use a bath and a soft bed,” Judith said, giving me her shoulder to lean on.
    â€œNo guesthouses,” Parz said. “Not overnight, anyway. Guesthouses mean people who can remember our descriptions and overhear our talk.”
    Judith raised her voice a little. “You cannot ask a princess to sleep outside!”
    I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. “Perhaps, but a princess can offer to sleep outside.”
    Parz’s face split into an appreciative grin. I grinned back, but quickly found my way to a rock, and used it to lower myself to the ground, unsteady on my feet.
    We made camp near a small rivulet off the Willows River, using leaf litter as bed stuffing and our cloaks for covers. I couldn’t help regretting the rest of my warm clothes abandoned at Alder Brook. Like my other two cloaks. Those would have made my outdoor bed somewhat nicer.
    Parz took care of the horses while Judith built a fire. I considered our food stores. We had only a quarter wheel of cheese and some bread, until Judith gleaned hazelnuts from a hedge.
    The sun set, and we ate. Parz produced a pot of small ale to wash the meal down, though it was unfiltered and as thick as breakfast gruel, so we had to chew it as much as drink it.
    My body ached from the day’s riding, and my foot ached because it always did, but my belly was full and I was free. I stretched and sighed. I wanted to massage my leg and foot, but I was embarrassed to do so in front of Parz.
    Judith saw me flexing my foot and came over to take it in