Henry and the Dragon: Chapter Seven

Henry rode for many days, stopping only occasionally to allow the horses to partake of the cold river and to nibble the grasses. He wondered how his mother was faring, especially when news of Neron’s death would reach the village. She’d know it was him, of this Henry was certain. The few hours of sleep that he got each night were plagued with nightmares of Kai pleading for Henry to help him, but oddly not one dream about having killed a monster like Neron.

After another day, Henry came upon the town of Rorsha. It was much larger than Innernook, with two inns, three taverns, and an assortment of stores and shops. The first thing Henry did was visit the livery, where he offered to sell three horses to the stable master. The man turned a critical eye toward them, stroked a hand down their flanks, peered underneath at their stomachs, felt their legs, then stared into their eyes. When he’d done to this to each horse, he’d offered Henry thirty gold! Henry had never had so much. He gladly accepted the offer, then asked about the inns.

“If you’re looking for a companion to spend time with, Vera’s will suit you.”

At first, Henry didn’t understand. “Why would I need a companion?”

The old man gave a toothless grin. “All young men need a woman to help with their…needs.”

Then Henry understood. “Oh, no. I have no desire for companionship. I only wish to sleep for a time, then I will head out again.”

The livery man cocked his head, his gaze wandering up and down Henry’s body, much like he had with the horses. “Vera can procure boys for you, if that’s what you prefer.”

Never had Henry heard someone blatantly speak of men in such a manner.

“No, I wish no one.”

The man shrugged. “As you wish. Vera’s is probably the better of the two inns. Although she does charge a few coppers more, you get a meal and a bath included.”

After the time spent on the road, Henry would be delighted to bathe. He tried to always be clean, unlike Neron, who had no problem fouling the air with his stench. To be fair, many of the people of Innernook rarely bathed. Henry believed one day it would lead to problems, so he always tried to keep himself as clean as possible.

After the livery man gave him directions, Henry made his way toward the inn. He marveled at the town. People bustled to and fro, shopkeepers hawked their wares in the square. Henry stopped and browsed a few moments, then bought some turnips, apples, dried fruit, and a few other things he would need for a long journey. When he’d offered the young woman the coin, she’s frowned at him.

“We cannot make so much change,” she’d said.

Never in his life had Henry heard that. No one he knew had gold, so it wasn’t as though he couldn’t understand. Since he couldn’t give her smaller coins, he bought more things, including a rucksack to carry supplies in. When he’d finished, the supplies the vendor had were empty, and she was giddy. Henry was amazed to discover he was nowhere near a gold, and still he had food for several months. How much was it actually worth?

By the time he’d visited other vendors and reached a gold, he had so much he doubted even the horse could carry it, and there was nowhere he could store it. He was dragging the sack when he noticed a little girl, her hair matted, and her clothes threadbare, holding out a hand to shoppers, only to be rebuffed. He made his way to where she was, tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

She jerked around and stared openmouthed. “Sir, do you have a coin? My mother is sick, and I need it to buy food.”

He smiled at her and patted the heavy satchel he was dragging behind him. “I have plenty of food. Shall we go see your mother?”

The child took Henry’s hand, and led him through the streets. The further they got from the square, the more the buildings became like those back home. When they came to a hovel that even the least fortunate person in Innernook would have spit upon, the girl stopped and drew back a sackcloth that covered the door.

“Mama?”

The room, if you could call it that, was dark and dingy. Dust floated in the thin shaft of light from the door, as it raced to cling to any surface it could find. A cough, deep and husky, followed by a croaked, “Anna” drew Henry’s attention to the other side of the shadowed space.

“Mama, I have food.”

The woman struggled to sit up. With Anna’s help, she was able to lean against the wall. Henry winced at the smell of decay. He’d smelled it before, usually on farmers who were injured during harvest. The skin got dark around the wound, and festered until the person fell into a dire sickness. They never survived.

“No, please. I would rather you lie down.”

She didn’t lay back, she collapsed in a heap. “Who are you?”

“My name is Henry, and I am a healer.”

She shook her head, and even that tiny movement seemed a strain. “My time is nigh, Henry. Would you care for my precious? My Dimitra,” she croaked.

“No, Mama!” Dimitra cried. “I won’t go.”

“Please, let me see your wound.” Henry drew back the thin blanket, and did his best not to expel his empty stomach. “When did this happen?”

“I was helping with the harvest, and stepped into the swing of a scythe,” she said. “At first it simply hurt, but as one day passed into another, the pain did not lessen. I packed it with the manure, but that only seemed to make it worse.”

Of course it did. Henry bit back a sigh. Did people not realize where manure came from? “Have you not seen a healer?”

Her gaze flicked to her daughter. “I had to choose between Dimitra eating or paying our healer. She will always come first.”

Henry hated that no one would help these people out of the goodness of their heart. Healers ought not demand coin from people who could not afford it.

“I have some salve that I hope will help.”

He reached inside his satchel to retrieve the vial, surprised when the woman stopped him.

“I have no coin.”

“You need none,” Henry promised. “Consider this a gift for Dimitra.”

She stared at him. “Are you a witch?”

That made Henry chuckle. “No, good lady. Merely a student of the healing arts.”

He wanted to tell her the truth, that without getting help, she would likely lose the foot. And even if his ointment helped, she would never walk properly again. The wound already wept a thick, sticky fluid, and Henry believed the injury only accelerated an illness the woman had. It was likely that his salve would only prolong her life, even if she got help.

He raised the bottle from his bag, and opened the top. The smell, combined with the odors in the room, could make a grown man weep. He dabbed some on his fingers, then reached for the woman’s leg.

“This will hurt, I’m afraid.”

She nodded, and braced herself as best she could. When Henry’s fingers brushed over the deep cut, she whimpered, and Dimitra squeezed her hand. Henry worked as quickly as he could, not wanting to prolong the pain. When he finished, he wrapped the area in some clean cloths.

“Let me fetch you some water,” he said. “You must promise me you will see your healer. I will leave a coin with Dimitra to allow you to do so.”

Her eyes gleamed, even in the dim lighting. “You are a blessing from God, Henry. Your mother must be proud of you.”

He truly hoped so. “Now you must rest. The liniment will drain the sickness, but you still need to sleep to allow it to work.”

He brushed the hair from her eyes. She reminded him of his mother, and how she sacrificed everything to ensure he and Merry were happy and content.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and Henry stood. “Dimitra, please show me where your food stores are.”

She glanced at him, but seemed reluctant to leave her mother.

“Please, Dimitra. I want to be certain you and your mother have food for the cold season to come.”

It took several breaths, but she stood and directed him to their storage room. As suspected, the shelves were bone bare. Henry opened his satchel, then started adding things to the room. Through it all, Dmitra gawped at him. Would that he could help everyone in town, but even with the coin he had left, there wouldn’t be enough. And he’d bought out the stores of several shops, so it was unlikely there would be enough food available for everyone.

His whole life, Henry had witnessed such poverty. The lords and ladies in the castles and keeps had no idea what life was like for their subjects, and Henry doubted they would care if they were aware.

When their father had taken ill, no one cared if they were unable to pay their taxes. No one worried that crops were rotting in the field. All that mattered was the king got his money. Only then were they happy. Until it was time to collect the taxes again, and the cycle began anew.

“Will she get better?” Dmitra asked, turning deep brown eyes up at Henry.

The truth was, no, she wouldn’t. All Henry could do was stave off the illness. He might have extended her life, but nothing could save it. How could he tell that to a little girl? What could he say other than she would need to find a new family, or be placed in one of the orphanages that seemed to crop up overnight?

“She will, little one. You have my pledge.”

The lie was ash on his tongue, but the smile on Dmitra’s face was worth it.

Before he left, Henry again checked the wound. Dmitra was asleep in the corner, the furrowed brow now smoothed out.

“You should not lie to the child,” her mother said. “You know as well as I do, I won’t get better. The sickness is eating me up inside. Dmitra keeps bringing me food, but I cannot stomach it.” She gripped his wrist, surprisingly strong for such a sick woman. “You must take her with you, Henry. Dmitra needs someone to look after her, and that should be you.”

How could he explain to her that he wasn’t equipped to take a child on his journey?

“I…cannot, milady. I travel to a destination I do not yet know, seeking someone I cannot be certain still lives. There is also the matter of a dragon, and the fact I have sworn to kill it. As you can see, my life will be no safer for Dmitra than remaining here.”

In truth, Henry could take her back to Mother and Merry. They could raise her as their child. It was so far away, though, and it would take Henry far too long to get back on track.

What would Kai want you to do?

That question plagued Henry. Kai would insist he save the child, regardless of what happened to him. How Henry knew this to be fact, he did not know, but he was certain of it.

“I could pay the smith to take you both to my mother’s home. She and my sister, Merry, would care for you both.”

The woman gave a sad smile. “I would not survive the trip. I can already feel the hand of God touching me. I doubt I will survive more than a fortnight.”

It was as Henry suspected, but the knowledge brought him no pleasure. “I am sorry. I wish there was more I could do.”

“You can. Take Dmitra with you. She cannot stay here.”

“My lady, I…” He swallowed hard. “I will never have a wife to help raise her.”

She gave a soft smile. “She does not need a woman’s touch, Henry. She needs the love of one who has compassion for others. That would be you.”

She wasn’t understanding him at all. “No, Dmitra would be in danger if she was my ward. I—“

“Do not care for the company of women? Yes, I understood that. This doesn’t mean you are incapable of raising a child, Henry. You know love in your heart. You could teach her the art of healing. Make her a good, loving father. And if, by God’s grace, you are blessed with finding love, then two fathers will suit her just fine.”

Henry’s head swam. He had no idea anyone would be so accepting of him.

“Please, milady—“

“Constance,” she told him. “My name. Please use it.”

“Very well, Constance. I….” He wasn’t sure what he could say. “I could take Dmitra to my mother and sister. They would raise her to be a good woman.”

“You do know I have the sight, Henry? I knew this would come to pass, and I am prepared to die. Your mother would do a fine job of raising my daughter, but in your care, she will blossom. You and the man who dwells in the shadows.”

Dwells in the shadows? “What do you mean?”

“He is in great agony. Poison courses through his veins, and he fears Death will visit him soon. His greatest regret is not being able to speak to you of his love.”

Kai loved him? “Surely you must be mistaken.”

“No, never. He is in a cave up on a mountain twenty leagues to the west. It is there he expects to die.”

“And the dragon?”

She frowned and squinted, as though she was seeing something Henry could not. “I don’t see a dragon, but your love is not concerned with that, only with you.”

Twenty leagues? He could cover that distance in two days, if weather prevailed. Still, if he had to take Dmitra home….

“Take her with you. She will be sad, but she has the gift as well, and she knows what will come to pass. She can be of help to you, I’m certain.”

Henry wanted to protest, but Constance squeezed his hand to forestall anything he would say.

“Dmitra already thinks of you as a savior. Do not let her down. I would beg if it helped.”

He had no doubt she would. This, more than anything, proved to Henry she was a doting mother.

“Please, speak to me the truth. How long have you got to live? I could leave Dmitra with you, and—“

“I will pass this night,” she said, a slight wheeze in her voice. “I’m sorry if you wasted your salve on me, but without it, I wouldn’t have made it long enough to talk with you. I was on my deathbed, Henry, and you kept me here long enough to see to Dmitra. I will forever be grateful to you.”

Henry nibbled his lip. He could not, in good conscience, leave Dmitra alone, but the thought of taking her with him chilled him to his core.

“She will make you a fine daughter,” Constance said softly, her eyes fluttering closed. “All I ask is that you remind her of my love.”

“I will, I swear.”

“Then all is right with the world, and I can go into the light. Godspeed, Henry. You and your love are at a crossroads. You must reach him soon, if you hope to save him. He…waits.”

A wheezed breath, and Constance passed from the living to the other side. Henry pulled the threadbare blanket up and covered her face with it.

“She’s gone,” came a small voice from behind him.

Henry turned and found Dmitra there, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

She nodded. “I knew this would come to pass, even if I hoped for a miracle.” She came to Henry and slid a slender arm around his neck. “Am I to go with you, or to the orphanage?”

A sigh slid out of Henry. “You will come with me. I would never abandon you.”

The little girl smiled. “I know. Mama told me a good man would come to save me. When you approached me in the market, I knew it was you.”

“Never in my life have I met someone who so loved their child, they hung on to life until they were certain she was cared for. Your mother was truly a special woman.”

“She said you were to be my father. Is that true?”

“I will raise you as my own,” Henry vowed. “But you must know—“

“She told me. I would have two fathers, if we can save the other man.” She leaned against Henry, her head on his shoulder. “I would like that.”

Henry stood, then took Dmitra’s hand in his. “Then we should see to making it so, daughter of ours.”

Together they left the stale air of the hovel. Henry went to the neighbor’s home and knocked on their door. When it opened, he explained Constance’s passing, and asked if they could see to the body. In return, they could help themselves to the food Henry had left. They were more than happy to do so.

“Mama made them uncomfortable,” Dmitra said. “They felt as though she could look at them, and know when they would die.”

“Well, she looked at me, and knew you and I would have a happy life, so I see nothing to fear there. Are you ready to depart? We have a long journey ahead of us.”

They returned to the livery and claimed the horse. With Dmitra on the back, clinging to Henry’s waist, they headed toward the cave Constance had seen, and their destiny.