Read Online Hunting of the Last Dragon by Sherryl Jordan - Free Book Online

up in the river, collected Lizzie’s bowl, and staggered back to her cage. She said nothing at first, until I handed her the bowl, and she saw the dent in it. Then she said, straight-faced as a nun: “’Tis a pity you had not gone down to empty my privy bucket, Jude. It would have fit over his head nicely, and not been dented.”
    â€œRichard isn’t worth a turd,” I said, and she laughed. I laughed with her, and it was good, that mirth, for it eased the hurt in both of us. And while we laughed the storm broke and rain began to fall, heavy and hard. I locked her cage door—a small act I had grown to loathe—and pulled the cover across. One corner I left folded up, so she could watch the children dancing in the downpour.
    Everyone went mad in that thunderstorm. By God’s soul, it was a blessed relief! I stood out in it, face upturned and washed of dust, cool water on my tongue and throat, and all of me baptised with rain.
    All evening it rained, and I went to bed in Tybalt’s wagon, with his family, since the ground outside wasrunning mud. Richard said he would go on watch that night, though his father said there was no need. “A dragon wouldn’t see past its own smoke, in this storm,” Tybalt said, but Richard got his knife and bow anyway, and a heavy cloak, and went out into the teeming dark.
    At some time in the night I woke, and for one blessed moment thought I was at home again, with my family breathing all around. But the rain, instead of landing quiet on the thatch, was drumming on a wooden roof; and that made me remember, and the pain crushed down on me again. I slept, and had a dream that Richard came inside and bent over me to strangle me. I woke sweating and hot, and needing to let out some of the evening’s ale. Quiet, I pulled on my boots and went outside.
    All was hushed, for the rain had passed and a full moon sailed, ship-like, between the rolling clouds. I went down to the river, and on my way back looked over to Lizzie’s cage. The cover had been pulled off, though I could see little else in the shadows beneath the trees. My hand reached for her key tied to my belt. It was not there. The leather thong was sliced through, smooth and neat, as with a knife. So it was no dream I had, of Richard! He had been there right enough, but thieving instead of throttling.
    I ran then, slithering in the mud, and found Lizzie’scage empty, the door open. I wanted to call her, but I dared not. What if she wanted to go with him? Mayhap they often stole away together, and I would but make a fool of myself by following. In an agony of doubt I stood listening, but could hear only the thumping of my own heart. Then a call. Shrill and afraid; a maid’s voice.
    â€™Twas all I needed. I went into the trees, towards the sound. It was pitch-black in the shadows under the trees, though in parts the moonbeams poured through, bright almost as the day. Water dripped all around, and my feet squelching in the mud must have been heard a mile away. By corpus bones, I was afraid! Afraid of finding them, and afraid of not finding them. And if they were found, what would I do? Never would I beat Richard in a fight. I stopped, thinking to go back and call Tybalt. But would he laugh, and tell me to leave his son to his wenching? If he cared nothing for the sufferings of the bear, why should he care for Lizzie?
    Hardly breathing for terror, and wishing I had brought my bow, I went deeper into the woods. I stumbled on a root and fell heavily, sliding some way in the mud, and making more noise than a pig in a panic. As I got to my feet I had half a mind to go back anyway, and trust to fate that Lizzie was willing with him. At that moment I heard a voice, muffled andlow, and full of threat. Richard’s voice. But no sound from Lizzie. Quiet, I crept forward. I could see nothing in the shadows, but I heard Richard speak again. Of a sudden I noticed, in a pool of moonlight on the