Teal stared at the dragon, and the great beast stared straight back at her, its huge yellow eyes examining her dispassionately. She chewed determinedly on the unleavened bread she had cooked that afternoon, swallowing it down and feeling come to rest like lead at the bottom of her belly. Teal had made it with the last of the flour from the now empty barrels at the back of the cave. Barrels that sat next to empty crates, once filled with dried meat and fish.

Oh, yes, and with those barrels and boxes had been a small chest of money. It now lay carefully stacked with the other tonnes of treasure the great beast had collected. Money that had belonged to some poor farmer, now a blackened corpse, or months ago consumed as a brief meal.

Play for me, Bard, the dragon commanded. Its voice, though deliberately muted, still rang loudly in her mind. Its scales, blood red in the light of day, sparkled black in the dimness of Teal’s cook fire.

"No," Teal said softly. She swallowed a gulp of water, drawn from the spring at the back of the cave.

Then tell me a tale.

"No," she said again.

The dragon’s eyes, big as serving platters, blinked once. Three years you have lived with me, Bard Teal. Will you not speak? Will you not sing?

"No." Her meal done, Teal sat up from the cavern’s uneven stone floor, and made her way towards its dark recesses. She passed the small wooden hut, constructed by another of the dragon’s prisoners a century before, that served as her home. Continuing on, she came to a dark, cramped tunnel, angling upward. A rickety ladder had been built here, perhaps by the same prisoner that had constructed the hut. She clambered upward, around claustrophobic turns and recesses, until she felt the cool breeze reaching down towards her. Pulling herself up the final few feet, Teal emerged from the tunnel, and found herself at the top of the mountain.

She paused, and drew in a breath of clean, fresh air. The mountain’s top was a small, mossy hillock, no bigger than twenty feet around. In the daylight she would be able to see for miles around, or stare at the steep, near impassable stone cliff face the guarded the dragon’s lair. But it was night, and all Teal could see was stars. That was enough. This place was too small for the dragon to clamber onto, and here was the one place were Teal could be assured of being free of his presence, for however little time.

The oilcloth covered chest was still where Teal had left it, under a small cairn of rocks. She uncovered and opened it, drawing forth the small lute, also wrapped in oilcloth. She unwrapped it and cradled her instrument in her arms. She was content to sit there for a few moments, before running her hands and fingers through some simple stretching exercises. Then she laid her fingertips on the lute’s strings, and paused.

Three years ago the dragon had found her, bound on an ancient stone altar. Left as a blood sacrifice, by villagers who feared the great Beast. He had released her bonds, only to take Teal back to his cavern home, and demand that she entertain him.

After all, he had said, your stay here will be short, only the remainder of your life.

She couldn’t run. The path down from the cavern was far too steep for her to traverse. She couldn’t fight him. Teal was no knight, with lance in hand, able to pierce the Beast’s heart. Even her magic was pitifully small, capable only of producing simple illusions, easily pieced by the Beast’s gaze.

But she could defy him. Every day that she remained alive. Every day that she could deny the Beast what he demanded, Teal won.

I am a prisoner. But I am not an amusement. I am not a toy. I am not a slave. My body can not leave this place, but my mind is free.

She couldn’t play her lute. The notes would waft down the tunnel, to the dragon’s sharp ears, and the Beast would know that it had won. But she lifted her fingers off the lute’s strings, holding the tips a bare quarter inch above the cats gut, and began the move them silently, her hands and fingers shaping the familiar patterns of the song.

In her mind, she could hear the music.

* * *

What do you need? the dragon asked, the next evening. The entrance to the dragon’s cave faced westward, letting in the reddish evening light. The sun’s rays silhouetted the dragon’s great form, making him appear to be a great shadow, haloed by blood.

"Nothing," Teal answered evenly.

The dragon growled deep in his throat. Teal held her ground. They’d had this particular argument before, and the outcome was always the same.

Your food supply is finished, and you have not eaten today. I need to obtain more for you. What is it that you desire?

"You know what I want."

Besides that.

Teal deliberately turned her back on the dragon, and headed towards her hut. "I’m sure you’ll find something."

The dragon made an annoyed chuffing noise, and turned towards the cavern entrance. Teal took one glance back towards him, as the Beast spread its wings wide, and flew off into the darkening night. Gone. For however much time it would take the dragon to find a caravan to attack, or a farm to raid, to steal food for his pet bard. A few hours, at most. On occasion the dragon had left for as long as a fortnight, with no explanation offered, but for a food run he would not take as long. No, he won’t let me starve. Though she had never had the nerve to test his threat to force food down her throat, if she ever tried a hunger strike.

Teal continued towards the back of the cave, and quickly made her way through the tunnel to her hillock sanctuary. She retrieved her lute and case, and as quickly as she dared wound her way back down to the cavern. Rope, I need rope. There was a great pile of the stuff, neatly coiled and organized according to width, length, and material, in one corner of the cavern. Teal took a length of silk rope, perhaps a hundred yards in all, and slung the coil over her shoulder. A backpack served as a handy carrier for her lute and case. Then she walked over to the cavern’s entrance, a mouth twice again as wide as the dragon himself.

Below was a path. It was old, overgrown with moss and lichen, and vastly treacherous, with large gaps in the rock face, and crumbly stone, but it was a path. More than once she had thought to try and traverse it, but either the dragon’s presence, foul weather, or simple fear had prevented her. From the cave mouth to the foothills below was a drop of over a thousand feet, if she judged correctly. A fall would likely be fatal.

No less fatal than the fate of the farmers that the dragon steals from. No less fatal than the countless sacrifices he’s consumed in the past. Someone would likely die tonight. Their only crime would be existing as a means for the Beast to satisfy his desires. Teal said a prayer for their unnamed souls, and looped one end of the silk rope around an outcropping. Then with a final prayer to the AllFather for herself, she took the first step along the path.

* * *

Four hours later, Teal was halfway down the mountain’s face. The silk rope had run out high above her, leaving her no means of support if she misstep. So now Teal tested every step of the way carefully, keeping a grip on whatever handhold presented itself as she climbed. It was only because of the strong light of the full moon that she could see her way at all. As it was, the grumbling of her stomach was nearly enough to distract her, not to mention the biting cold of the autumn night.

Halfway there, she told herself. Halfway free. All she needed to do when she reached the ground was find a hiding place for the dawn. Then dragon would have no way to track her if she was not visible. A creature of the air, he hunted by sight, not smell.

Besides, the Beast was ancient, if the great pile of treasure in his cavern was any way to judge him. If she could avoid his presence for a week, a month, a year, he would likely forget the bard he had once captured. And even if he did remember, once Teal lost herself in the great mass of humanity that lived on the Isles, he’d never find her.

One step forward, test the weight, bring up the other foot… The path, a goat track really, doubled back around a large boulder at this point. Teal took a grip on the moss clinging to the boulder, and carefully swung around the hairpin turn. Bring your foot down, test the weight… The limestone rock underneath her boot felt crumbly here. Teal pulled her foot back, readying herself to go back a few paces and try and find as sidetrack that would have better footing.

Her handhold on the moss tightened, and she felt the hardy, wet greenery pull free of its grip on the rock. Teal, already overbalanced, fell forward, her foot landing on the uncertain limestone. The rock crackled and broke underneath her boot heel, and she tumbled with a cry over the side of the path.

The time between her tumble, and the inevitable collision with the side of the mountain, seemed to stretch out to a minor eternity. The rock face smashed itself against her backpack, and Teal heard a horrid crack as her wooden lute case absorbed the impact. Then she started sliding, following the angle of the mountain down to the field of boulders that sat waiting for her at the bottom. Teal flung out her arms, trying to get a handhold, any handhold, that might stop her terrible fall. But she kept sliding, even as her arms and hands were rapidly torn apart by the unyielding rock. Teal let out one more helpless cry, and tried to bend her legs beneath her in an attempt to absorb to the impact.

When the landing came, Teal hit at the wrong angle, and her right leg shattered against a small boulder the size of her head. Teal tumbled forward, wrapping her arms around her head until she finally came to stop.

Teal opened her eyes, and let her arms flop down. She was lying on her back in the boulder field, staring up at the stars. Some distant part of her mind was telling her that her leg had been broken. She could see a piece of bone, bloody and jagged, sticking out of a torn hole in her skin. There was pain there, but somehow it was muted, distant.

Get up, she told herself. You have to get up. The dragon will be coming. The world was all foggy. Standing was too much of an effort.

Get up, else you be found! Teal gathered her good leg beneath her, and pushed herself up, leaning against a rock. The nearest cover was perhaps twenty yards away, a slab sided piece of rock that had fetched up against a boulder, creating a pocket that might have enough room for her to hide under.

She dropped back to the ground, and started crawling…

* * *

The dragon’s roar awakened Teal from her fitful sleep. It was nothing she could properly hear, more of a subsonic thrum that set her teeth rattling, and shook the ground ominously. But it was the dragon, of that she no doubt.

It had taken Teal two hours to cross the open ground to her hiding place. Halfway there, the fuzziness of shock had been replaced by agonizing pain from her injured leg. She’d nearly collapsed right there, but the thought of the dragon finding her had been enough to spur her forward. She had made it, only to collapse in utter exhaustion.

Now the Beast had found that his pet bard had escaped him, and was likely furious. Good. Let’s see you try and do something about it. On the slice of horizon visible from her hidey hole, she could see the sky starting to turn pink. The dragon would soon retreat back into its lair. In a strange sort of way he was a shy creature, never venturing out into the light in all the years she had been his prisoner.

Teal wiped the sweat off her brow and waited.

TEAL! The outraged roar carried down the mountain, rattling her broken bones. Teal bit her lip, trying not to let out a cry of distress. The Beast had very, very good hearing…

BARD TEAL! SHOW YOURSELF! She hunkered down a little further. You can’t see me, Teal thought, like a child playing hide-n-seek. No, can’t see me at all.

It was all that she could from jumping out of her skin when the dragon’s shadow passed over her hiding place. The dawn was well on its way, and the Beast was still out? He’s angry. Very angry. The shadow flew onward, and Teal saw the dragon come to a skittering landing in the rock field, perhaps a mile away. Even at that distance, he was easily visible. The Beast’s yellow eyes were wide, and he swung his head back and forth, tasting the air with his long forked tongue. Not that it would do him much good. The dragon’s fire effectively meant that its sense of smell was poor, not even equally a human’s, unless the smell was close enough for its tongue to catch.

But why land there? He was nowhere near the place where she’d crashed into the rocks. Because that’s where the trail ends, she realized. Her painful fall had been a benefit after all, effectively obscuring her path. Ha!

The dragon turned around, searching the path for signs of her passage. He dug his great claws into the rock face, and began climbing slowly up the mountainside, following the curves of the path, keeping his head low as he looked for clues as to where she went.

Teal, if you are hiding, I will find you, he called out. This is a foolish game. If you show yourself, I promise I will not be angry with you.

Certainly, Teal thought with a laugh. Her imprisonment had been bad enough. She wasn’t about to give him a chance to show her how much worse it could get.

Bard Teal, let me know that you alive, at least. That you did not fall. You are too valuable to me for that to happen.

Oh, that wouldn’t work. He thinks to trick me, with false concern?

TEAL!

The day wore on. In time, the dragon’s appeals to her grew more distant, as his search ranged further and further from her hiding place. As she waited for the night to come, the pain in Teal’s broken leg grew steadily worse, the shattered and protruding bone twisting against her skin like a knife. Worse still, she felt herself growing hot, then cold, then hot again in increasingly short intervals. The leg had grown infected, she realized with dread, and if it was not cared for soon she’d die, whether the dragon found her or not.

Need to get to a village, she thought muzzily, when the sun began to set. Priest there… will help. Could she get there in time, dragging herself along the ground? All she could feel was the pain, and the heat, and the sweat, and the dryness of her mouth, and the heaving emptiness of her stomach.

* * *

By the time night came, Teal’s fever had grown worse, and she could no longer feel the pain of her broken leg. Water, just a little water, and I’ll be all right. There was a stream at the bottom of the mountain. She had seen it many times from her perch on her secret hillock. All she needed was a little water, and she’d be all right.

Teal didn’t remember dragging herself out from beneath the rock slab. She only realized she had emerged when she felt the cool, dewy wet grass underneath her hands, as she dragged herself along.

Just a little water… The stream was… somewhere. Which way, which way? She couldn’t remember. It had been so clear, hours ago. As she dragged herself forward, her broken leg bounced on the uneven ground. The world suddenly went into sharp, painful focus, and she bit her lip bloody to keep herself from screaming, above the sound of the howling wind. Mustn’t make a sound, the Beast will hear. Keep going. The stream was to her right, perhaps a hundred yards away, she remembered. Too far.

Just keep going!

The rising moon was bright, lighting her way clearly. When it was suddenly blocked, darkening the world around her, Teal had just enough time to look up, before the Beast snatched her up in one great claw, pulling her into the air. She let out a painful, terrified, despairing scream, as the dragon banked suddenly, turning back towards the rocky field. The Beast opened his great maw, and fire spit forth into the night, blinding Teal as he vented his anger at her escape.

"Damn you," she whispered quietly, over and over again. "Damn you, damn you, damn you…"

She kept cursing him, until the brief flight ended with a jarring landing at the mouth of his cavern, and the pain finally dropped her into unconsciousness.

* * *

Her leg was suddenly bathed in fire, jerking her awake. Teal blinked away tears of pain, to see a young man standing over her, his hands gripping her injured leg. He looked over at a thick tome standing open on a pedestal beside him and frowned.

"That’s not right…" he muttered. The man seemed… unformed, somehow. His skin was too perfect, his eyes perhaps too wide, and shining with unearthly brightness, and his fine dark hair fell perfectly straight down his back, without a single curl visible.

"Who… are you?" Teal gasped. The young man looked up at her, and his frown deepened.

"Sleep, Bard Teal, please. You are very ill."

"Who…? Where’s… the dragon?"

"Nearby." The young man’s expression grew sad.

"Please…" Teal begged. "Hide me from him. He’s very angry with me."

"Oh, you didn’t make him angry, Bard Teal," the young man said. "But I tell you this; you did make him afraid."

Afraid? She fell back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Heal her, the dragon commanded.

"Who is she? She looks like the outlander the villagers found three years…"

Do not ask questions. Heal her!

* * *

Teal wasn’t sure how long she had slept. Vague dreams of a young man, and another of the dragon speaking to a priest fell through her mind, but she was too tired to catch hold of them.

She blinked away the sleep from her eyes, and found herself in a bed, a far larger bed than the small cot in her hut. It was made of brass, with a feather mattress and white linen sheets, and a two heavy quilts that covered her naked body. A softly glowing ball of magical light bathed the area around her, and she looked up to see the stone ceiling of the dragon’s cavern hovering above her head. The bed was sitting in the central chamber against the eastern wall, perhaps fifty feet from the enormous golden bowl that the dragon used as a nest.

"AllFather help me," Teal whispered softly. She hadn’t been dreaming. The Beast had found her. Hot tears welled up in her eyes, and she let them flow freely, as her hands gripped at the smooth white sheets. Why hadn’t she been more careful when she was climbing down the mountain. Why couldn’t she have broken her neck in her fall? Better to die, than to remain here.

After a time, her tears dissipated, and she became distracted by the sensations, or lack thereof, coming from her broken leg. The horrible pain was gone. Indeed, she couldn’t feel anything at all. Not wanting, but needing, to know the truth, Teal gingerly lifted up the quilts, and examined her injured leg. To her immense relief, it was still there, incased in a bulky wooden splint. The lack of sensation was no doubt from some sort of painkiller drug, or perhaps from the odd golden bangle hooked around her ankle. The bangle, most likely. It hummed in her ears quietly, as it radiated some form of small magic.

You are awake. Good. The dragon’s rumble echoed in her head, and Teal felt her body grow tense once again. The Beast emerged from the shadows of one corner, hidden neatly, despite his monstrous size.

"Why didn’t you let me die?" Teal asked.

Why did you run away?

"Because I had no wish for you to keep killing, in order to feed me."

I killed no one, this time.

"I doubt that."

As you will. I would not let you die, Bard Teal. I value you too much.

Teal let out a little snort, and the dragon’s yellow cat's-eyes narrowed.

"I will not play for you," she told him.

How could you? Your lute was smashed.

"No thanks to you! My master gave me that lute, when I became a Journeyman!" She had so been proud that day, despite all that had happened before, to have an instrument to call her own. It had her master’s own instrument, when he had been a Journeyman bard. And now it was gone, smashed to flinders on the side of this damnable mountain.

I did not force you to climb down that cliff. You might have been killed.

"My poor luck that I wasn’t," Teal spat back.

No matter. That path is blocked now. Temptation has been removed.

Well, she couldn’t have expected anything else. Teal decided that she could count her blessings that the Beast hadn’t seen fit to build a cage around her, making her his pet in all but name. There would be another day. She promised herself that.

Teal tried to push herself over to the edge of the bed, trying to leave so she could retreat to the dubious privacy of her hut. But the effort to push herself up made her gasp in exertion, and she fell back into the soft sheets of the bed.

Don’t try to leave there just yet. You were unconscious for five days. It will be another five weeks before your splint can be removed.

"Who told you that?" Teal demanded. "The boy? The priest? Who were they?"

The dragon did not answer.

* * *

It was another week before Teal was strong enough to get out of bed. But it was a relief not to remain dependant on the dragon for feeding and caring for her. The dragon had a rudimentary, at best, idea of how to a cook a meal. The most memorable moment had been when the Beast had brought her an entire deer carcass, charred by its flaming breath. But she had been hungry enough to accept the offer of a chunk of meat torn from the poor creature’s flank. Even if it had been still hairy.

When she finally hobbled out of bed, leaning on a wooden cane the dragon had provided for her, Teal immediately went over to the mouth of the cavern. As the Beast had promised, the path down the mountain had been reduced from horribly dangerous, to well nigh impossible to traverse. Sitting on the path was a large, polished smooth hemisphere of granite, shaped by magic, rising fifteen feet into the air. It would be impossible to climb over, or get around.

I’ll find another way, Teal promised herself. There is another way, I just haven’t seen it yet.

She spent most of her convelesance sitting at the cavern mouth, looking down on the low, rolling hills that were denied to her. From her vantage point she could see the thick, ancient forest that separated the dragon’s mountain from the semi-civilization of the human villages. Just beyond the forest was a river, and hugging the river’s defensive banks were the crumbling walls of some great castle, abandoned by its owner, after Cymry had been overrun by William the Conqueror’s troops.

Near the base of the dragon’s mountain, she could make out the charred spot of ground where the Beast had vented his anger at her escape. On a particularly clear day, Teal shaded her hands with her eyes, and made out several small bodies, contained within the circle.

"What are those?" she asked the dragon, curiosity getting the better of her.

Wolves, the dragon answered, from his golden bed.

"Wolves?" Teal repeated, turning toward him.

I spotted them shortly before I finally saw you, the dragon said. They were following the scent of your blood.

It hadn’t been the wind howling at her, when she had been dragging herself in a delirium across the ground, Teal realized. Cruel choice that, to be torn apart by wolves, or saved by her gaoler. She still wasn’t sure which she preferred.

* * *

The last week before her splint could be removed were the hardest to bear. Even though the dragon normally made a quiet companion, it was difficult for Teal to ignore his constant presence. His eyes, even when slitted in supposed sleep, tended to follow her wherever she went. It was far too awkward for her to negotiate her small hut to bed there, so she was forced to sleep in the elaborate bed the Beast had found for her. Whenever she found herself turning about, to find the dragon staring at her, she felt like screaming.

Then the time came, finally came, when the splint could be removed. Teal wasted no time retrieving a knife from the dragon’s treasure trove, to cut loose the linen wrappings that held the splint together.

Be careful, the dragon cautioned. You might cut yourself.

"Spare me your concern," Teal nearly snarled, from where she sat on the bed. She sliced through the wrappings with ease, and the wooden boards clattered to the cavern floor. The bangle was tossed on the bed’s covers. It had served its purpose, of preventing pain, and strengthening the bone as it healed. Or so the dragon had told her.

Teal stood up from the bed, holding onto the brass bed frame to steady herself, and put her full weight down on her right leg for the first time in six weeks. It held without a twinge of pain, though she felt a bit wobbly. The muscles there had grown slightly weak from disuse, though they’d probably go back to normal rapidly.

There is no pain?

"None." Teal turned away from, and quickly began walking towards the back of the cavern. She limped a bit, but that wouldn’t stop her from going where she wanted to. And even if it, she would have gone if she’d had to drag herself.

Where are you going?

"Away from you," Teal snapped. She reached the ladder in the small tunnel, began to climb upwards, favoring her healed leg with care. After six weeks, she’d finally have a little bit of privacy.

She pulled herself further up the tunnel, frowning as she neared the top. There should be a bit of light visible now, even from the tunnel’s sheltered exit. Had she judged the time of day wrong? She’d thought it was mid-afternoon. More worrisome, there wasn’t even a hint of breeze coming down her. The air instead was motionless, and slightly stale.

Teal stopped short, drawing in a breath of dismay. The ladder ended, as it should have, at the tunnel’s exit. But the exit was blocked now. A plug of rock, shaped perfectly to the mouth of the tunnel, sealed it neatly. She pushed against it, with as much force as she dared from her perch on the ladder. The rock didn’t budge. Then she pushed again, harder, not caring if she might lose her balance. The rock still didn’t move. She screamed at it, pounded her fists against the rock’s unyielding face, and it still didn’t move. Her hiding place, her sanctuary, was gone. The dragon had denied it to her.

"Bastard!"

Teal slid down the ladder in a haze of anger and tears. Emerging into the cavern, she ran straight towards the dragon, shouting and cursing at him with every step. The Beast just stared back at her, unflinching as she hurled abuse in his direction.

"Bastard! You inhuman bastard!" she shouted at him. Teal ran past a collection of arms, and without thinking snatched up a heavy, studded mace in her hand. "Is it not enough for you that I’m trapped here? Is it not enough for you that I’ll die here?"

If she had not been so angry, if she’d allowed herself a moment of rational thought, she would not have swung the mace in her hand. And she would never have had the pleasure of seeing the dragon, if only for the briefest of moments, flinch when it struck him square on the nose.

"Must you… deny me… the only… pleasure…I have!?" Every pause was punctuated by another swing, as she continued the batter at the dragon’s snout, the mace ringing with the sound of metal weapon upon metal scale. The Beast actually backed up a step away from her, as Teal’s mace landed close to his left eye, forcing him to lower a clear nictitating membrane to protect himself.

The dragon snorted briefly, and hot, black smoke burst forth from his nostrils. Teal doubled over coughing and choking as she was suddenly blinded, and dropped the mace. It clattered to the floor with a metallic ring.

Forgive me, Bard, but I have an aversion to you having access to areas with sharp drops.

"I can’t climb down from there, Beast," Teal snarled. She coughed again, tasting sulfur in her lungs.

But you could jump. I’d rather not have that happen. You are too valuable to me.

"Valuable, eh?" Teal asked, her voice enraged and maddened to her own ears. "Valuable? How much so?" She ran back towards the dragon’s horde, stopping a great pile of golden crowns, necklaces, torcs, rings, and jewelry of types she had no name for. She snatched up a pile worth more than she ever hoped to earn in her lifetime, and ran back towards the entrance of the cavern. Without even pausing she flung the treasure over the side, watching it skitter and bang against the mountain’s face as it fell.

"That valuable?" At the dragon’s silence, she ran back towards the treasure. She grabbed gold encrusted staff, at least as heavy as she was, and dragged it back towards the entrance. "As valuable as this?" She flung it over the side, and had to catch herself from falling after it. Teal dropped to the ground in a crouch, covering her eyes with her hands. Would this be enough to provoke the dragon’s anger? Would it be suicide to force him into burning her with his flame? "I’ll keep it up," she warned, looking out over the wooded river beyond. "I can clear out this entire cavern, until there’s nothing but you and I. Am I worth that much?"

A silver man shape flew past her, breaking up in a dozen separate pieces. Teal blinked as the shining armor arced towards the ground, landing with muffled crash. She turned back towards the dragon, who stared back at her with his slitted, unreadable eyes. He held out one clawed hand over the side and opened it, letting a king’s ransom in silver coins fall to join the armor and jewels.

And interesting game, he noted. I don’t quite grasp it, but if you find it amusing there must be some worth to it.

"Why?" she asked quietly, defeated.

As I said, I have an aversion to you committing suicide.

"I can jump from here just as easily," Teal said.

And land on the path, and probably break some more bones. But I doubt it would kill you.

"Why deny that place to me now?"

You were never as foolish as to try and leave before.

"I’ll dig through," Teal said defiantly. "If I have to use a spoon I’ll dig through that rock. If it takes me years I’ll dig me way out."

The dragon’s voice grew cold. Then I’ll find another way to block it from you.

* * *

Teal’s defiance lasted until mid-winter.

As the days grew shorter, and colder, Teal grew ever more pale and silent. The view from the cavern’s mouth became a dreary expanse of gray, as leaden, sea fed clouds blanketed the sky. The dragon did not speak to her, save for a few terse queries the next time he hunted food for her. Her meals began to grow tasteless in her own mouth, and she ate little.

The desire to sit on her little plateau, even if for only a few minutes, gnawed at Teal’s stomach in a hunger no food could sate. A brief attempt at bashing at the rock plug with makeshift tools had ended in frustration, as they shattered against the hard granite.

She began to read through the journal of the hut’s original occupant. The man had been a bard, like herself, though the music in his notations seemed more in a religious bent than her own works. He had thought the Beast to be a true devil, trying to tempt him to leave the AllFather’s path. In turn, the nameless bard had done his best to convert the dragon to Christianity. As if such an inherently selfish creature could ever truly know the AllFather’s mercy.

Four months and twelve days after her attempt at escape, Teal came across a peculiar passage. Normally the other bard’s notes were limited to musical compositions, or proposed attempts to covert the dragon. But one passage caught her eye, and brought her heart to racing.

Brought up newe herde of goattes today from the valley. Required two days for me to finde a farm that woulde part with at leaste sixx.

The dragon released him, she thought. And he returned. Voluntarily? Possibly. Perhaps. It was obvious from some of his later rantings and plans the bard had grown quite mad in the later years of his imprisonment. Had the dragon and he created some odd form of symbiotic relationship? Or had it just amused the dragon to watch the mad human’s antics?

Could it be possible to bargain with the Beast?

Yes.

But it would mean giving in, she knew. Any bargain she made would be in his favor, not hers. He wouldn’t give her freedom, certainly, she didn’t believe that for a moment.

Maybe I can win something, without really giving him what he wants.

And if he became angry with her?

She looked around the rickety walls of her/the old bard’s hut. Beyond that was the unyielding stone of the cavern. And the unyielding power of the dragon.

What could he do to me that was worse than this?

* * *

"You win," Teal said softly. The dragon’s neck twisted in her direction, from his bed of golden coins. He blinked once, but remained silent.

"You win," Teal repeated. She slumped her shoulders, and cast down her eyes, the image of defeat. "I’ll give you a tale."

As you wish, the dragon said evenly.

Oh, humble in our victory, are we?

"I just…" Teal turned away from him, her head lowering until her chin nearly touched her chest.

You wish something, Bard Teal? The Beast prompted.

"If I… tell you a tale," Teal said carefully, a quaver entering her voice, "Would you see fit… to let me up on the plateau again. Please?"

The dragon was silent for a moment. For one tale? That hardly seems a bargain.

"Please," Teal begged, clasping her hands in supplication. "It’s so dark in here. I just want to see the sun. Just for a while."

What tale would you tell me?

She had been afraid he’d ask that question. Still, the part she’d really wanted was halfway into the bag. "Anything you want," Teal told him. "If I know it."

As she’d suspected, the dragon chose to be magnanimous. With her agreement, after so long, to finally give him what he wanted, the Beast thought his victory over her complete. Tell any tale you wish, Bard Teal, he said. When it is done, I will remove the plug. You may have your sanctuary once again.

"Thank you," Teal said. "Oh, thank you!" If the dragon thought anything strange by her overly profuse agreement, he didn’t let his suspicions be known to her.

The dragon turned about in his golden bed, looking for all the world like a cat settling into a warm quilt nest. Teal sat cross-legged on the floor opposite him, and looked into the Beast great yellow eyes.

"Once upon a time," she began, "There was a farm boy, named John. He worked very hard on his parent’s farm, starting almost as soon as he could walk. He knew no letters, could not cipher numbers, but he had a strong back. He never dreamed of castles, or princesses, or being a hero. His father was a farmer, his grandfather had been a farmer, and his grandfather’s father had been a farmer."

"When John came of age, he was introduced to the woman who would be his wife. She was short, but strong boned, not beautiful, but plump in the right places. Her parents and his arranged their marriage, as was custom, and they were wed when they reached sixteen years of age. Her dowry was modest, but it was enough that John’s father could buy another quarter acre to plow."

The dragon’s eyes never blinked as she told him this tale. They remained fixed on Teal, in a manner that was proving very distracting. The beast’s great head stretched in her direction, until he was nearly cross-eyed trying to keep her in focus. Was he about to express his displeasure, before she’d even finished?

"John’s wife moved in with John and his parents," Teal continued, "and they all shared the small, one room house together. In time, John’s wife bore him several children. Some of them lived, some of them died. The ones that lived were put to work as soon as they were able. They would all be farmers, or the wives of farmers. And none of them ever dreamed of being anything else."

Teal stood up, gave the dragon a small curtsey, and waited, her shoulders tensing in anticipation. It was a long moment before the Beast spoke.

What happened to the children? The ones who died? he asked.

"What do you mean?" Teal asked in return. She’d expected anger, at her deliberately modest tale, or a demand for a better one, or grumpy silence; not a question.

Why did the children die?

"Um, I don’t know," Teal said. She shrugged. "They were poor villagers. Maybe they died of the plague, or a difficult birth, or just because it was cold."

How many of their children survived? Did they have many sons and daughters? Could they afford dowries for them all?

"I don’t know," Teal repeated, feeling harried. "It was a tale. I just made it up."

Oh. AllFather help her, the dragon sounded disappointed. Well that was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it?

"I told you a tale," Teal said, trying to gain control over the conversation. "Are you going to remove the rock from the tunnel now, or not?"

I gave my word, the dragon said, petulantly. Petulantly, AllFather be praised. The Beast poured himself out of his golden bed, and slithered over to the cavern’s mouth. It reached up with its foreclaws and grabbed a handhold on the side of the mountain, pulling itself out of sight. In a matter of moments there was a tumbling crash, and the granite plug went tumbling down the mountainside. The dragon soon clambered back inside, preening shards of rock from its claws.

You have your plateau again, he said. Please be careful were you step.

"Thank you," Teal said, and she didn’t have to fake the sincerity in her voice.

You are welcome, Bard Teal. The dragon looked up at her, one claw still hanging absently from a tooth. Though, next time, I’d like to hear a tale about a real family.

"There isn’t going to be a next time," Teal answered, her voice growing cool. She retreated towards the tunnel, and wasted no time climbing up into the open, free air.

* * *

Teal returned several hours later, after night had fallen, and the wet wind began to bite at her bones. The dragon was curled up in his bed of golden coins, both eyes closed tight, for once, and he appeared dead asleep.

"Dragon, can you hear me?" she called out softly. Teal laid down the oil cloth wrapped package she’d found atop the plateau, carefully. Its contents were precious, after all. "Dragon, are you awake?"

I am now, came the reply.

Teal unwrapped the oilcloth, revealing a case made of lacquered rosewood, with brass hinges and inlaid catches. She snapped the catches open, revealing the instrument that lay nestled within a bed a black velvet.

The case had been sitting on the plateau, sheltered from the prevailing wind by a small cairn of rocks. When Teal had opened it, she found the instrument she now displayed for the dragon. It was a lute, similar in construction to the one she’d lost, but of infinitely finer quality. Made of rosewood, most likely from the same tree that had produced the case, it was an exquisite piece of work, with strings of fine catgut, and frets of bone and brass. It was better, she was forced to admit, than the gift from her master. And far beyond either of their reaches.

"What is this, Dragon?" Teal asked him.

A lute, came the flat answer.

"I’m aware of that," Teal said, with more patience than she felt. "Where did you get it? Was it part of your treasure horde?"

No, I commissioned it.

Commissioned? For a wild moment, Teal considered the idea of the dragon popping down to a instrument maker’s workshop, and knocking politely on the door. No, that was hardly possible, but the true answer she couldn’t see yet. Instead, she simply asked, "Why?"

To replace what you had lost.

"Why?"

Because I would like to hear you play.

Teal grimaced. A bribe. An exquisite bribe, but still a bribe.

"I would like to be free," she told the dragon.

I suppose we can’t expect to always get what we want. The dragon, shrugged, having never opened his eyes. Good night, Bard Teal. I am tired, and have not slept for a long time. The dragon’s body relaxed even further, and he was silent.

* * *

It was early spring before he woke up.

It was the longest time Teal had spent without the dragon’s company since her imprisonment. Though he was a constant presence in the center of the cavern, in Teal’s mind he started to resemble more of a softly breathing hill than her gaoler. So deeply had he slept, that Teal even risked tuning up the exquisite lute he had created for her, though she didn’t play. When the notes had floated across the cavern, filling it completely, the dragon didn’t even twitch.

Music soothes the savage beast, and even sleeping dragons. Ha.

Though the idea of being without the dragon’s taciturn company at first was appealing, it wasn’t a week before Teal starting having one sided conversations with herself. The constant silence was utterly unnerving, otherwise.

Well, mostly silent. There had been a fortnight when some quirk of the dragon’s breathing had sent him into a snoring fit that rattled the cavern walls. In a desperate attempt to sleep, Teal had retreated to a shelter she built on the plateau, muffling the tunnel with as many blankets and quilts that she could spare.

But that had passed. Three weeks later the dragon had awakened to a chorus of snapping tree trunks as he stretched in his bed. Teal, warned by the change in his breathing, only jumped halfway out of her much-patched breeches.

"Hope you had a nice nap," she told him.

Indeed, a pleasant rest, the dragon answered. He yawned widely, displaying saber length teeth. Teal could see down to the glow in back of his throat, a hint of the fire within, that could burst out at any moment.

"I was getting ready to try and rappel down the mountain face, if you didn’t wake soon. The food was starting to run low again."

That would have been unwise. Which was true. Spring it might be, but the face of the mountain was cold and covered by sheets of ice. The dragon’s cavern was only warm from the presence of the Beast himself. While he was here, it was pleasantly warm in the winter, and oppressively hot in the summer.

I would not have slept that long, deliberately. The dragon flared out his outer scales, and began preening the under-scales beneath. Still, you do have a point. Perhaps we can come to an agreement.

Teal’s heart skipped in her chest. "Agreement?" she said carefully. "For what?"

For you to have honorable parole, the dragon explained.

"Parole?" she repeated. She took in a deep breath, willing her heart to slow down. There’s a catch, there’s a catch, there has to be a catch! "Under what circumstances?"

I want to hear two tales, Bard Teal, he said. Like your first tale. But not so… The dragon let out a curious sigh. …incomplete.

I can get out of here. If he lets me off this mountain I can run. Teal crossed her arms, and frowned deliberately. Mustn’t seem too eager. No, no. "Two tales?" she asked. "For one parole? Shall I have to sing every time I wish to take a walk?"

No. Once parole is given, you may walk freely. After the first tale I will clear the blockade I created on the path. After the second, I will repair the path completely, so you needn’t ever worry about falling.

"That seems… a reasonable proposal," Teal agreed. "Two tales. An agreeable proposition. And I will have my parole afterward, to wander where I will?"

To eventually return, yes. That was the agreement your predecessor and myself had. He found it satisfactory.

"He wanted to convert you, from what I read of his journal."

The dragon chuffed twice, blowing smoke into the air. Teal stepped back, wondering if she’d said something that had offended the Beast. Then she realized that the dragon was laughing.

Yes, and he kept trying for forty years. Bard Teal, if you ever wish me end my own life, simply threaten to read the psalms. They’re so depressing. The last time he did it, I was so bored that I slept for five years. When I’d woken up, he’d died of old age.

Teal choked back a laugh. Then immediately frowned at herself. There was nothing amusing about an old man living out his last days by reading the Bible to the dragon.

Do we have a bargain, Bard Teal, on your oath to speak the truth?

"We have a bargain, dragon," Teal agreed. "For the price of two songs, you will clear the obstruction, and repair the path." They exchanged careful nods.

I give you two tales, and you clear the path. That is our agreement, she thought in her mind. But we have made no bargain about my parole.

* * *

It was three days before she had her story ready to tell. Truthfully, she could have told it the moment after she and the dragon had sealed their agreement. But it took time for Teal to work herself up to the presentation.

"Are you ready to hear my story, Dragon?" she asked him, on the evening of the third day. Teal sat cross-legged, the cook fire between her and the dragon in his nest.

I am always ready to listen to what you have to say, the dragon declared. He shifted himself into a more comfortable position, and waited silently.

"Then hear my tale," Teal declared. She took in one deep breath, and began to speak.

"Once upon time, there was a farm girl. There was nothing extraordinary about her life. Her mother was a good farmer’s wife, as her mother before had been, and her mother’s mother had been. The girl never wondered about being anything different, and when she came of age she expected she’d marry some farm boy, and she would bear him many children."

This is the same story as before, the dragon interrupted, his voice rumbling. Bard Teal, you are cheating on our bargain!

Teal frowned, as the rhythm of the story was broken. "I am not finished, dragon," she said. "Listen, and please don’t interrupt again."

"Then one day, a stranger entered the girl’s village. He was dressed in motley clothes, wore a ragged pack on his back, and carried in his hands a gittern, which he cradled like a child. He was a bard, and like all bards he sang for his supper, told tales for coin, and did slight of hand tricks for the children. And like all bards, he was looked at with suspicion, for bards were known to be spies and thieves, and the adults in the village kept their purse tight to their bosoms when he came near."

Better, the dragon said. Teal gave him an exasperated look.

"Another interruption, and our bargain is broken," she warned him. The dragon’s scaled crest flared briefly about his head, and his eyes widened in surprise at her warning. But he didn’t speak, instead motioning with one claw for her to continue.

"The girl could have listened to the bard for hours. She stole whatever time she could from her chores, and tried to give what coin she had to the bard, just so he’d stay a while longer in the village. But he had to go, not wishing to risk the wrath of the adults should he overstay. He did tell her, should she ever wish to hear bards again, that she could do well to visit a certain village outside Londonium. The master bards gathered there, and told all their old tales to each other, when their legs could no longer carry them through the countryside."

"Now the time came when the young girl became a woman, and her mother told her that soon she would be a bride. But she could still hear the bard’s tales in her mind, and she thought that if she should take a husband, she’d never take another step outside the village, as long as she’d live, and she’d never hear the master bards’ tales. So, in the darkest of night, when her mother and father were fast asleep, she gathered up her clothes, stole out of their small home, and began walking."

"She walked for many days, hiding when the men of her village came riding along the road, calling out for her. Along the way, she met kind people, who gave her shelter for fair work, and not so kind people, who beat her and took what little coin she had. And one very evil man, who would have taken her life, had she not been clever and quick. But he is not part of this tale."

"In time, she reached the village of the bards. The young girl was welcomed, for in truth the old bards tired of hearing the same tales told, and many were eager for a new audience. She listened, and listened, and listened for weeks. She even did odd jobs for the old bards, cleaning their homes, cooking their meals, and earning her keep, all for the privilege of hearing their stories."

"Then one day, one of them, not the oldest of the bards, but very near, asked the girl if she had any tales to tell."

"Now the girl was surprised by this. ‘I’m no bard,’ she said. ‘I don’t how to tell a tale.’ And the old, but not oldest, bard said, ‘Then I must teach you.’ And that was how the young girl became his apprentice."

"She studied for many years, learning all the old tales, learning how to make new tales, and how to speak truthfully when reporting events. And she learned the magic that they could weave with word and music and song. Though words were her love, she could play a pretty tune as well, and learned enough magic to make illusions to fool unwary eyes."

"Though this was a happy time for the girl, there were dark clouds gathering in the great city of Londonium, that would soon bring this all to an end. For in that great city, there were men of the AllFather, who preached that the AllFather’s world was harsh and unforgiving, and it was not right that mere mortal man should make merry underneath His eye."

"These men came to the oldest bard of the village, the one who knew all the tales, and they said, ‘Make no more merry songs. Tell no more happy tales. You take hard earned coin for no work, and that the AllFather will not forgive.’"

"And the oldest of the bards said to the men, ‘We earn our keep, Good Sirs. We lighten the burden that other folk bear, and make them smile and laugh.’"

"’That burden was given to them by the AllFather,’ the men of the AllFather said. ‘It is not your place to lighten it. Now sing no more songs, and tell no more tales. Those who do will are damned in His eyes. The Church will deny you Communion, deny you the Sacrament, and deny you the Rites that will assure your passage to Heaven.’"

"’We will sing, we will speak, we will still make merry,’ the oldest bard said. ‘There are many bards, and you can not silence all of their voices, or break all of their instruments.’"

"’Yes we can, though it may take time, for we do the AllFather’s will,’ they said. ‘We will start today.’ Then they gathered all the bards, all the apprentices, and all the villagers in the main square. Then with shouts and drawn swords they scattered them to the hills, and set fire to the village."

"’They burned our homes! They burned our instruments!’ the bards all cried. ‘We are lost!"

"’No,’ the oldest bard said. ‘We live, and we still have our voices. We can still speak, and we can still sing. Now go yourselves to the hills, fellow bards. If our voices are not welcome here, then we will go to the three kingdoms of the gaels. In Cymry, Hibernia, and Caeledonia we are still welcome, and their gain will be Angland’s loss.’"

"So the bards scattered. The girl found herself crying, fearing all was lost. But her mentor bade her not to shed tears. Indeed, though they were cold, though they were tired, the bards all gathered in those hills one more time. All those who were apprenticed saw the final, secret rites of the bards, and all were given the rank of Journeyman. Her mentor gave the girl his own lute, saved by his quick thinking before the village was burned. Then he kissed her hand, and bade her to go on her way. And she did not see him again."

"So the girl, now a true bard, wandered the countryside. She sang songs, told tales, earned coin, and moved on. Always she moved on, for the Roundheads, these harsh men of the AllFather, were moving ever outward from Londonium. In time, she crossed over the border to Cymry, where the bards were welcomed, not looked on with suspicion. And for many months she forgot the diaspora of the bards’ village, and she was happy."

"Then one Midsummer’s Eve, she came to a certain village. As always, the people there welcomed her, and welcomed the news and song she brought. But when they thought she wasn’t looking, they cast strange, calculating glances at her. And though she did not know it, these folk were followers of the old ways, that had existed before the AllFather’s Word was known. And sometimes those old ways required blood, to complete their rites."

"That evening, the bard played many a happy tune, and the villagers expressed their pleasure at her songs. They plied her with food and drink, and bid her to play until the late hours of the night. Soon, the bard grew weary, and her eyes could barely stay open, but still the villagers demanded she play. So intent was she to please them, that she never felt herself fall into a deep slumber."

"When she awoke, she found herself dressed in a white linen dress, and wearing a crown of flowers upon her head. She was bound to a stone altar, in the center of a ring of stones, and all around the altar were offerings of food, and linen, and flowers. It was cold, and she was much afraid of what would happen next."

Teal paused, and looked the dragon straight in the eye. "The rest of this tale, I think you know."

The dragon blinked, as if dragging himself out of some reverie, and shook his head once to clear it. Yes, I think I do, he agreed. The dragon stretched in his bed of gold, then curled up into a more comfortable position. A fine tale, Bard Teal. It was worthy of our bargain.

"Good," Teal said. She damped down her own pleasure. It had been a long, long time since she had a chance to tell a commendable tale, and the dragon was at least an appreciative audience.

I apologize for your being frightened, Bard Teal. I really need to do something about that village, someday, the dragon said, almost absentmindedly.

"Do something?" Teal asked, surprised. She drew a cup of water from the jug that sat beside her and sipped it. "I thought that whole business with the stone altar and all was in homage to you."

Yes. It is getting quite annoying.

"Annoying?"

The dragon chuffed once. It is not important. He turned his head away and closed his eyes.

Annoying. Anything that annoyed the dragon was too interesting not to know about, and potentially useful. Against her better judgment, Teal said, "Dragon, a small bargain."

What manner of bargain?

"Tell me why you find the sacrifices the village offers you annoying, and I will play my lute, for one hour." Not entirely a fair bargain. Her skill with words had always been better than her skill at the lute.

The dragon turned back to face her. For a moment, she’d thought she’d actually surprised him. An afternoon, tomorrow, he said automatically.

"Two hours, starting at noon," she countered.

Four.

"Two and a half, no more," Teal told him. "Longer than that, and my fingers grow cramped."

Done. I’ll tell my tale while you play.

"Done," she agreed, and felt weirdly pleased. An audience of one was better than no audience at all. Even if that audience could eat her in one gulp without a thought.

* * *

The next morning, Teal was awakened by an earthquake threatening to collapse her hut. Wrapping an elaborately beaded robe she’d stolen from the dragon’s hoard around herself, she headed towards the source of the disturbance. She found it in the form of the dragon, who was busy tossing great chunks of granite that had fouled the path off the side of the mountain. The huge boulder that he’d put in place himself was nowhere to be seen.

She watched as the Beast rumbled something to himself, and she felt a metallic sounding twang echo in her mind. The dragon then began shaping the mountain path with his claws, the granite flowing like wet clay under his guidance, smoothing to a wide, safe looking traverse down the mountain. Shaping it with magic, Teal realized, and very powerful magic at that. So the Beast was a mage, and potentially more devastating in the area of magic than his mere physical attributes.

The twang faded from her hearing, and the dragon paused in his work. A fifty yard section of the path had been altered, adding to the perhaps three hundred yards that had already been changed before Teal had awakened. A remarkable feat of magic, compared to similar spells she’d seen human mages employ. The Beast looked up at her, and began climbing his way back up the mountain, digging his claws into the rock face with care. He seemed to move more slowly than usual as he climbed. Had the dragon physical limits after all?

"What are you doing?" Teal asked him, when he had climbed back into the cavern.

Repairing the path, as we agreed, the dragon said. He plopped down onto his bed of gold, laying his head and neck flat on the ground.

"The agreement was that my first tale would remove the obstruction you created. Only after the second would you attempt to repair it," Teal objected. That had been the letter of the bargain, and she had expected no more. Generous was not a phrase she wished to use in conjunction with her captor.

Your tale was excellent, the dragon explained. And it had been a long time since I’d heard one of its like. If you wish to tell a second tale, perhaps we can agree to some other bargain.

Like my freedom? But she was not so foolish as to ask this aloud. "Perhaps," Teal said.

Would you play for me now, Bard Teal? For the period of time we agreed upon. I will tell you my tale, as I rest.

"I’ll get my lute," Teal said by way of agreement. She retrieved her instrument from its safe corner in the hut, and brought it out to the cavern. Teal fiddled with it for several minutes, bringing the instrument into tune, and began to play a simple melody. The lute’s soft chords filled the cavern from wall to stone wall, and Teal closed her eyes, trying not to weep. It had been terribly long since she played. She mustn’t stumble over her fingers now.

The dragon raised his head up from the floor, cleared his great throat, and began to speak.

I was not born in this land. For most of my life, I lived in the lands that the dragons called their own, isolated since the collapse of the Empire. For reasons that are not important, I found it more agreeable to leave the place of my birth, and travel across the ocean to this island.

Across the ocean? Could the dragon be serious? No one had ever crossed that great, watery expanse, that Teal knew of. More intriguing, and frightening, was the casual admittance that there were more than one of his kind in the world. Of course there would be. Something had to have spawned him.

When I arrived, I found myself most unwelcome, The dragon continued. You must understand, in the lands of my birth humans know their place in the scheme of things. Humanoids and dragons do not war, save for the dark banes of the south. When I landed in front of the castle of this county’s lord, he greeted me with a brace of well armoured soldiers. I thought them to be an honor guard, but instead of leading my way, they attempted to run me through. It was most unexpected. The dragon paused, scratching at a set of motley scales on his underbelly. A scar from that encounter perhaps?

Pity it wasn’t a deeper wound, Teal thought to herself. "You killed them all?" she asked.

Of course, the dragon stated plainly. I did not care to be wounded, and was in a disagreeable mood. I burned down the lord’s knights, the lord himself, and his castle. Then I removed myself to this cavern, where I could rest and heal.

I had slept for a good year, but was not yet fully healed, when the villagers came. The loss of their lord had cast them adrift, and many of the county’s villagers came to blows with each, in petty squabbles. One day, a group dared to climb my mountain. They had memories from the days of the Empire, I suspect, and remembered how we dragons have habits of accumulating the treasure we require. When I awakened to the sound of their stumbling about in my lair, I was quite cross. My wounds still pained me, you see, and I did not welcome visitors when I was so vulnerable.

Of those intruders, I killed all save one. Him I let live, and return to spread a warning. Further annoyances would end with the desolation of the entire village, and everyone within.

I had thought that to be the end of the matter, but I found my voluntary isolation grew weary on my soul. So, in twentieth year after I first gave my dire warning, I flew down to the village myself, and forced a bargain upon them.

"In seven years," I said to them, "I will appear at the stone circle that lays outside your village. There you will leave me a sacrifice, so that I might be amused." Not the kindest of notions, but I was desperate for any interaction. At the time, I missed the simple dynamics of human and draconic relations in my lands.

Had I known what difficulties this would lead to, I would have perhaps chosen a different path. But they had wounded me, and I nursed a grudge against them. It was difficult to be attacked, when one had lived in a land where dragons are considered living gods.

Hubris thy name was Dragon. Teal swallowed down her outrage at the dragon’s casual murder and blasphemy, and continued to listen.

Seven years to that night, I arrived at the circle. I had expected that the villagers themselves would be there, to present their sacrifice personally, but instead that had left him bound on the altar. Just a poor outlander bard, who’d had the bad luck to visit a certain village close to Midsummer Eve. The same fellow who built the hut you live in now, and had so insistently tried to convert me to his god’s ways.

That was a hundred years ago. You are the fourteenth sacrifice I have plucked from that altar, and the first bard I’ve had since that strange man.

The dragon paused in his speech. Teal said to him, "What happened to the others? The ones that came between us? Did you eat them, when they proved unamusing?"

Eat? The dragon’s brow wrinkled in disgust. Do you have any idea how badly humans taste?

Do have any idea that I don’t want to know how you know that? Teal thought. "So what happened to them?"

I simply freed the first. Some poor slip of a girl who just stood there and screamed when I tried to tell her to go home. I flew off and left her, which proved to be a foolish idea. The next night I flew by the circle again, to make certain she’d gone off, and found her body there. The villagers had made a blood sacrifice of her, to appease me, I suppose.

Seven years later I’d had time to properly consider my actions. The bard was still with me, and he was proving company enough. So I’d thought to stop the whole foolish sacrifice thing. I appeared just as the villagers were laying out their next poor victim, and managed to stop them before they let any blood. Unfortunately, trying to talk to them was rather like trying to get you to tell a tale. They would not listen, and insisted on presenting the poor human goat to me. I was becoming rather frustrated, and rather than lose my temper, I simply told them to cease shedding blood.

"So what happened to the sacrifice?"

I took her with me, had the bard feed her a proper meal, then blanked her mind with Slave’s Tears. A nunnery in the adjacent county found her wandering down the road the next morning, and took her in. That’s how they all ended up, until you came along. I can not imagine what the nuns think of it.

Teal swallowed, feeling a lump of fear in her throat. If the dragon had forced Slave’s Tears down her own throat, she would have lost all of her memories. Everything that ever happened to her, every song and tale that she knew, perhaps even her ability to play would have been gone in an instant. That’s as frightening a fate as the one I face now. At least as the dragon’s prisoner I have a chance to someday escape.

Frankly, I am quite tired of the entire matter. It is a dissatisfying way to study humans.

Teal snorted. "Speaking as one subject, I’m inclined to agree."

The dragon cocked his head in seeming puzzlement, but said nothing.

* * *

Two days later, the dragon completed his renovation of the path. Teal bore the wait with impatience, fighting the urge to go rushing down the mountain again to her escape. No, she had to wait, to lull the dragon into trusting her to range far, before returning to her stone cage.

The morning of the third day, Teal readied herself to descend the mountain. This time, she’d just try to walk down briefly, and walk back up again. More than that, and she risked tiring herself out, even though she’d had several months to recover from her injuries. No, better that today be just a test. The real challenge would come when she tried to leave for good.

Teal was tying a wineskin filled with spring water to her belt, when the dragon approached her. In his claws, he carefully held a peculiar looking bracelet. It was a single, wide silver band, with two light chains that were connected to a silver ring. Both bracelet and ring were inset with a peculiar looking blue stone, mottled with black striations.

Before you descend the mountain, Bard Teal, I must make a request from you, the dragon said. His tone indicated that he would brook no argument. Please put this piece of jewelry on.

"Why?" Teal asked, staring suspiciously at the silver cuff. "What is it?"

It has a few small enchantments on it. Primarily, it acts as a sort of signal fire. So long as you wear it, I will know where you are, at least approximately.

"So you don’t trust me to go wandering about by myself, do you?" Teal said defiantly.

Why should I? You certainly make a point not to trust me.

Teal ignored the jibe. She took the bracelet/ring from the dragon’s claws, holding it at arm’s length. "What’s this odd stone?" she asked.

It is called turquoise, a type of mineral found in the western portion of my homeland.

"What if I choose not to wear this?" Teal asked him.

Then I will be forced to block the path once again.

Teal grimaced, and decided to give in to the inevitable. She slipped the cuff over her hand and wrist, and the ring over her middle finger. Both fit snugly, but not uncomfortably, and could easily be pulled off.

Thank you, Bard Teal, the dragon said.

"It’s prettier than a leash, I suppose," Teal noted. "Goodbye, dragon." She walked out of the cave and into the open, free air.

When she returned, it was nearing dark. The dragon was waiting for her, sitting at the mouth of the cavern, having set watch over her entire traverse up and down the mountainside.

Did you enjoy your outing? he asked, when she stumbled back in. Her legs were aching from the effort to climb back up the mountain, and her face and neck were bright red from being exposed to the sunlight.

"Fine," Teal huffed. She collapsed into the side of the dragon’s golden bed, not caring how the coins there dug into her back. It was a relief just to rest. The years of her imprisonment had sapped away the endurance she’d gained during her travels. That, and during the hours of climbing back up the mountain, she’d had to fight the temptation just to head back down and run.

It wouldn’t have worked, anyway. The dragon had kept a careful eye on her every moment that she was gone. If she asked, she was sure the he could offer her an explanation that he’d been worried about her safety. Which wouldn’t have necessarily been a false concern. The climb back up the mountain had been strenuous, and even as wide as the path was now, a misstep still could have proven fatal.

What is wrong with your face?

"It’s called sunburn," Teal told him. "It happens when a person’s skin is exposed to the light for too long." She gave the dragon an ironic smile. "Especially when they’ve spent a great deal of time indoors." She pulled off the dragon’s bracelet, exposing the pale skin beneath, now outlined in red.

I’m glad I found you that Midsummer night, then, the dragon said, unperturbed by the veiled insult. I would hate to have seen what you would have looked like lying there on that altar all day. If it pains you too much, there are certain ointments my kind uses for infections under our scales…

"Fah!" Teal tossed the silver bracelet in the dragon’s general direction.

* * *

The next day, Teal’s burned skin started peeling terribly, itching and burning with an agony that forced her into the cool depths of the cavern’s spring for relief. She didn’t descend the mountain again for another five days, after her burned skin had peeled away, leaving her as brown as a gypsy.

She traveled up and down the trail several times in the next month, until she was confident that she had regained her strength. Only then did she venture out onto the plain below, walking as far as two miles from the mountain, but being careful to return before darkness made the path impassable

"Dragon, a question," Teal asked. She poked at the loaves of trail bread that were cooking in her fire. Enough for a week’s worth of travel, if she parceled them out carefully.

What do you wish to know? Always, when she went out, the dragon watched over her progress. If he had been human, Teal would almost be willing to ascribe his interest as genuine concern. More likely, he was just making sure she didn’t try and run off unexpectedly.

Not that such an event was likely to occur. Teal had found out the trick of the dragon’s silver ring & cuff during her first sojourn out on the rocky plain. Her back turned towards the dragon’s watching eyes, she had tried discreetly to remove the magical leash. Teal had found that the bracelet, though never growing deliberately tight, had shrunk ever so slightly, making it impossible to slip over her wrist. She had spent several minutes tugging at the damnable thing, to no avail. But when she had returned to the cavern in the evening, it had slipped off quite easily. If the Beast had seen the red marks around her wrist and hand, he had made no comment.

Teal speared a piece of bread and pulled it out of the fire. She bounced the hot crust lightly from hand to hand, before cracking it open and eating the soft, slightly doughy center. "What was the longest period of time that the hermit ever left you?"

A fortnight, the dragon replied. He had been ministering at a parish church, when their priest recovered from an illness.

"You weren’t worried about him?"

No. He wore the same bracelet that you do when you leave my lair. Had anything untoward happened to him, I would have known.

"How so?" Teal asked. She pulled the remaining trail bread from the fire, setting them aside. Cooked in this way, the bread would stay fresh inside for over a week, and was nutritious enough to maintain a hardy traveler.

If a bandit had attacked him, they would have undoubtedly tried to remove the bracelet. As you may have ascertained, that is a difficult prospect when not in the vicinity of the cave. Had they attempted to pry it loose, the results would have been… unfortunate… for them.

"I see," Teal said. She hid her disappointment with difficulty. So much for the idea of finding a sympathetic blacksmith to file the damned thing off. Her own freedom, much as she desired it, was not worth the life of another.

I could cut my hand off, she thought. She’d lose her ability to play an instrument, but she would be free. Unless the dragon has a contingency for that as well. She didn’t care to place a wager on that possibility. Besides, deliberately mutilating herself was something Teal wanted to put as an absolute last resort. Absolutely last.

So, unless she could overcome that bit of squeamishness, she was stuck. Trapped. Leashed.

She gritted her teeth. So be it. For now, this dog is going to see how long her damned leash is…

* * *

The trail bread she wrapped in a clean cloth, and stuffed into her pack, which had sat neglected in a corner of her hut for almost four years now. With it followed her spare clothes, much patched over the years, and the lute the dragon had given her. She hitched the pack to her shoulders, and wrapped a light cloak around herself for protection should the weather turn unseasonably cool. From her belt she hung a sheath with a plain steel knife, the only item from the dragon’s hoard she would take with her, aside from the silver ring & cuff.

The dragon bestirred himself from his bed when he saw how Teal had outfitted herself. In an unusual reaction, he moved directly in front of her to block the entrance to the cave.

Where are you going, Bard Teal? he asked.

"Out," Teal said simply.

For how long?

"I don’t know just yet," she told him. "I might go as far as one of the villages. It’s been quite a while since I’ve heard any news, living here as I am."

I would suggest you keep clear of the village along the river, by the castle. The dragon chuffed. The villagers there might be slightly surprised to see one of their sacrifices wandering back to them.

"I will keep your advice in mind, Dragon." Teal looked directly into his platter sized, cat slitted eyes. "Will you let me pass? Unless my parole has been revoked, for reasons I don’t know." She raised her wrist, displaying her silver leash. "I assure you, you’ll be able to find me, should you need to."

The dragon started in seeming surprise, but shuffled out of her way. Go freely, Bard Teal.

As soon as she started down the mountain, Teal pulled her sleeve down, covering the cuff, if not the ring. As soon she could reach a village and earned some coin, she’d have to invest in a pair of gauntlets to cover her hands. ‘Go freely.’ Ha. Not as long as I wear this.

It was scarcely two hours journey down the mountain on the repaired path. And four hours up, if she was walking unfatigued. Teal made the trip in record time, and when she reached the bottom struck off towards the river. She wasn’t so foolish as to head towards the village that had placed her into peculiar imprisonment, but she did want to reach another outpost of civilization. The idea of finally seeing and talking to another human being made her heart sing. The dragon’s company, even not counting his role of gaoler, was grating enough.

But there was another reason behind her trip. The dragon, assuming any of his claims concerning his magical bracelet were true, knew where Teal would be at all times, at least generally. From his descriptions of his relationship with her predecessor, he was willing to let his prisoners out of his sight for at least a fortnight at a time. There had to be an upper limit to that parole, though, and Teal was determined to find out what that was. Three weeks? A month? A season?

Enough time to find a mage who knew a thing or two about hexed magical jewelry? Perhaps not. Mages of quality, as opposed to hedge witches and simple bards like herself, were relatively rare. It was unlikely she’d find one in this primitive area. And if she did, it was likely to be some eccentric, untrustworthy hermit. But there was always room for hope.

She paused when she reached the bottom of the path. Some hundred yards away there was a scattering of gold coins, necklaces, and random precious stones. It was the booty she had dropped over the side, in an effort to raise the dragon’s ire when he had punished her for escaping. Teal gathered up some of the coins, more wealth than she had ever possessed in her life, and stuffed them deep into her pack. If she did find a mage that would help her, this treasure might serve her well.

Her errand done, Teal struck out across the rocky plain towards the river. There had to be a ford of some sort along its banks. If she could find one, she could use it to cross over to the woods, and from there to a village and human civilization.

Finding the ford took the better part of the day. By the time Teal found a suitable crossing point, the sun was hanging low in the sky. Rather than cross into the unfamiliar woods now, she elected to pitch her tent, and bed down for the night. Looking back towards the mountain, she could see a glint of shining red scales, from where the dragon’s lair would be. Teal gave her watcher mental rude gesture, and laid down to sleep in the open air, for the first time in almost four years.

She awoke suddenly the next morning, startled awake by the sound of a crow cawing in the trees across the river. Its cry was answered by a group of startled finches, which fluttered between the trees as Teal watched in wonderment from her tent. She hadn’t heard a bird song for longer than she could remember. The birds did not fly as high as the mouth of the dragon’s cavern, and kept away from the plain in front of it. Perhaps they feared the dragon, as she did.

Wise birds.

Teal packed away her tent and sleeping roll, and ate half a loaf of trail bread to fortify herself. Then she laced her boots together and hung them around her neck, and began to wade across the gravelly river bottom. The cold waters reached up to her hips, but the current was gentle, not swift, and she was never in danger of falling over.

Reaching the other side, she slipped her boots back on, and continued into the woods. Progress was slow. There was the remains of a path, possibly the one her predecessor had used on his journeys, but it was badly overgrown. Teal found herself pausing often to untangle herself from thorny bushes or small tree limbs.

She was thankful for what little remained of the path, however. The canopy of leaves above her head hid the sun, and without it or the path there was no doubt that she would quickly become lost.

Day fell into night, and Teal spent her second evening of relative freedom in an uneasy sleep. The forest held too many strange sounds in the night for her to rest comfortably. In the dragon’s cavern, the only sound was the gurgling of the spring, and her own breathing. In these woods, every creaking limb in the breeze sounded like an animal ready to pounce. Which reminded her of the pack of wolves the dragon had burned when she had tried to escape. Was there another pack of them in the woods? Were they just as hungry?

In the light of the morning, she could only laugh at her foolishness. All wolves she had ever heard of ran scared from healthy men and women. It had only been the smell of blood and her badly wounded state that had tempted that pack.

Another day’s travel, and the woods began to thin out. Her trail became easier to traverse, and there was evidence that trappers or woodsmen had made use of it in the recent past.

She ran into her first human being late that afternoon, almost literally stumbling across him as he crouched over an empty deadfall trap.

"Oi! Watch yerself, missy!" the man cried out, as Teal barely avoided stepping on his hand as she came around a tree.

"I’m…" the words I’m sorry, stuck in her throat, as she came across the first human being she’d seen since she fallen unconscious at that inn almost four years ago. Her tongue suddenly grew thick in her mouth, and her face blushed from inexplicable embarrassment.

The trapper looked at her in surprise. He was not a particularly handsome man, being almost forty years old, with balding dark hair, dressed in a homespun tunic and trews, and wearing practical boots. But he was human, and there, and suddenly she was at a loss as to what to say.

The silence grew uncomfortably long. Teal took a step away, almost ready to disappear into the woods. A concerned look crossed the trapper’s face, and he said gently, "Are you all right, Missy?"

"I’m… I’m…" I’m prisoner of a dragon that lives in yonder mountains, and he’s let me loose with a magical bracelet so he can find me, and I don’t want to go back there, and it’s been so long since I’ve seen another person, and I pray that you aren’t from that horrid village that left me his clutches in the first place.

It was too much. If she started babbling now, she’d surely be seen as a madwoman, or a witch, or worse. "I’m… fine," she finally said, slowly, carefully. "I’ve… been lost, in these woods, for several days. Could you tell me what village lies nearest?"

"Enoch," the trapper said. "That where you wanted to go?"

"Yes, actually," Teal told him. Mentally, she gave a sigh of relief. Enoch wasn’t the village that had tried to sacrifice her. That distinction was left to Greenford.

"How did you get out here?" the trapper asked.

Teal smiled, and readied the story she had been working on for the past few days. "I thought to go into the woods, at least a ways, to find my muse. I went a little further than I anticipated."

"Find yer what?"

"Muse," she repeated. "I’m a bard."

The trapper’s face broke into a wide smile. "A bard? Then yer welcome here, for certain." He doffed his rough leather cap, and gave her a differential nod. "Would you come to my home, Bard…"

"Teal," she supplied.

"I’m John the Trapper," the man told her. "I would be honored, if you could grace my house with a song, or a tale."

"Gladly, if you could be so kind as to lead me out of these woods," Teal agreed. John readily agreed. He led her to his house, a log cabin with two whitewashed rooms, and introduced her to his wife. She was a thin faced, dark haired woman who carried a look of suspicion on her face, until Teal broke out her lute and began strumming a quiet tune.

Later that evening, after consuming the largest meal she’d allowed herself for a while, Teal leaned back in one of the two wooden chairs in the cabin, and sighed contentedly. A family of two wasn’t much of an audience, but it was double what she’d played to lately. And they were human. Ordinary. Humble even, treating her unproven, save by her own skill, claim of being a bard as gospel. It was obvious that they were poor, but they did not hesitate to offer the choicest of their limited supply of game and stored preserves.

"Have any of my fellow bards been through here, lately?" Teal asked, as the evening grew long. She should beg to go to bed soon. The lamp oil the couple was burning on her behalf did not come cheaply.

"One, just before spring planting," John told her. "A sandy haired fellow, with perhaps a score of years under his belt."

No one I know, she thought, slightly disappointed. She had met many bards during her training in their village, but most were older men. If she could find one…

But no, that would be too much of a risk, for them, if not for her. Some temptations were better left of out of clawed hands. The dragon had one captive bard, he hardly needed another.

"Poor fellow," John’s wife said. "His hands all broken up like that."

Teal frowned. "Broken? How do you mean?" she asked.

"The Roundheads had done it to him," John explained. "He gone over the border he said, into Angland, to see family. The Roundheads caught him playing his gittern in the open, and broke his hands for it in the knucklecracker. But he could still sing in a sweet voice."

"Roundheads?" Teal asked. "That near to the border?"

The couple’s expression grew confused. "Aye, near," John said. "They’ve been sniffing about the border for close to two years, since King James died."

"He died?" she asked. At the trapper’s doubting glare she added. "I have been… I was imprisoned, for some time. It was only recently that I gained my freedom."

At the word imprisoned, John and his wife’s expression grew slightly chilly. Well, they could think her a thief if they wished. She’d be gone from their home soon enough. Perhaps tonight if she was that unwelcome. "How did he die?"

"The Roundheads executed him," the trapper said starkly. "The Anglish Parliament balked at his taxes, said he was unfit to rule, and so they and the king came to blows. They captured him about two years ago, after a bloody fight. Then the head of Parliament, a fellow named Cromwell, got himself voted in as ‘Lord Protector’, and ordered King James’ head to be chopped off his poor body. They say every one of noble blood has fled the whole of Angland, and those that didn’t lost their heads too."

"AllFather protect us," Teal murmured, a shocked tone. She felt her face grow cold, as the blood drained away. Cromwell had been one of those cold men of the AllFather who had come to the bard’s village that terrible day. It seemed that he grown in power enormously, in the years since.

"They say he’s led the Anglish against Caeledonia, and was beaten back at Hadrian’s Wall," John said. "He’ll be setting eyes on Cymry next, I’d reckon. We’ve no wall to hold him out, and the lords of the counties are to busy fightin’ amongst themselves to put up a defense against the Anglish."

And from Cymry, across the strait to Hibernia, Teal thought. Will all the bards of the isles be forced to swim to Frencia? Had the AllFather cursed the land, that Cromwell and his Roundheads would burn all signs of gaiety to the ground? Or was the man truly following the Pater Omni's will?

No, she had seen the light of pleasure in the man’s eyes, that day when he had burned the bard’s village. He had been satisfying his own desires, not serving a higher power.

If I ever escape the dragon that holds me, I may flee into lands held by another. Teal rubbed her hands, thinking of that anonymous bard who’d had his hands crushed. Could the same happen to her? Would all of Cromwell’s soldiers ignore the ancient respect that true bards were all given? AllFather bless, at least the dragon that holds my leash has never outright harmed me.

* * *

Teal did not overstay her welcome at the trapper’s cot, leaving early the next morning. With the trapper’s directions, she easily found the well traveled path that led to Enoch. By mid-day she had reached the small village, which served the villagers and few craftsmen that dwelled there. The place was big enough to even support a small tavern, though there was no inn, and the beer was well watered.

She sat quietly in one corner of the tavern’s single room, watching the farmers and crafters as they took their drink and bowls of stew and talked about the mundane trivia of their daily lives. After having only the dragon’s company for four years, it was a balm of normalcy for her. The people of this village were beneath the dragon’s notice. Their only true fears were of the weather, and perhaps the distant threat of Cromwell to the east.

No one had spoken to her yet, content to try and take her measure before approaching. She was grateful for the privacy. It had been a very, very long time since she had been in a room with so many people. Teal fought off a terrible feeling of déjà vu. These folk were not going to rob and kidnap her out of hand, as the villagers of Greenford had. Though she judged it wise not to flash her coin too freely, lest someone be tempted.

The balm was washed away when a tall, beefy man ducked through the tavern’s low doorway. He was decked out in leather armor, heavy with mostly decorative studs, and carried a large sword sheathed on his back. Behind him was a smaller man, in scholarly robes, hefting a heavy pack on his back, and two more warriors dressed in sensible chainmail and carrying swords and bows.

The scholarly looking man hummed in way familiar to Teal. She was willing to bet that he was a mage of some sort, though not of great power. She found herself wondering what bring such an unusual band of men so far into Cymry’s lands. Battles here were often between rival clans. Hiring warriors from the outside was practically unheard of, and hiring mages was not done at all.

"Ho, Innkeeper!" the tall man bellowed, his cymric tainted with an anglish accent. "A jug of your finest ale, and something to fill the bellies of brave warriors!" The quartet commandeered a table, and sat down to be served. Teal saw that the locals were looking them over hesitantly, disturbed at the intrusion of armed men into their watering hole, but unwilling to start a fight over it. Yet, anyway.

The innkeeper brought over a four bowls of stew, mugs, and a generous pitcher of beer. In return the tall man flashed a silver coin, which he dropped into the innkeeper’s hand with a flourish. It was much more than their meal was worth, as both men well knew, as did every other man and woman in the tavern.

"How can I serve you, milord?" the innkeeper asked, his tongue loosened slightly by the coin.

"You can give me information, my good man," the tall man said. "Me and my compatriots are a hunt, a hunt for a very rare and special beast. We’re hoping that you can help us find him, eh?"

"Beast, milord?" the innkeeper asked. "We’ve nothing like that here, save for some wolves."

"Not in this village," the tall man said. He leaned over the table conspiratorially, though his voice carried through the entire room. "And what we’re looking for is no wolf. We’re looking for the creature that comes every seven years, on Midsummer’s Eve."

The innkeeper’s ruddy face paled. "We’ve nothing like that here, milord," he said, shaking his head firmly. "Nothing like that in this village. We are all good Christians here, and make no Midsummer’s bargain with no beasts."

Teal’s ears pricked up the innkeeper’s reaction. So other villages had heard of the dark bargain the dragon had forced upon Greenford. And that tale had traveled far enough to attract outlander adventurers.

"Oh, not this village," the tall man said. "But surely you’ve heard the tales that have gone around. They say the creature dwells in the mountains, watching over the lands."

"You are hunting the beast?" Teal spoke up. The tall man and his companions turned towards her with interest. "I am called Teal, a bard trained by Master Alexander Carpenter," she said by way of introduction. "I’ve heard of the beast you seek." She quickly decided to keep the fact that she was currently the dragon’s captive a secret. Considering what had happened to the last of the dragon’s victims when Greenford had found her alive, Teal thought it better to remain discrete.

"Then, Bard Teal, you have our willing ears," the tall man said. He thumped his chest. "I’m Jonah Boar-Killer. My companions and I have hunted down boars, wolves, bears, and the Great Basilisk of Dorchester!"

"Don’t forget the rogue Gargoyles of Lanchester Abbey" the mage butted in. He wiped some beer foam on his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. "Or that golem in Londonium. Of course, we had the Protector’s Guards help us with that."

Jonah shot the mage a warning glance, irritated at the interruption. "Only ‘cause the rotty elves that created it ambushed us," he added with a growl. "Now we hunt the Beast of Greenford," Jonah continued, "And we’ll soon have his head mounted on a pike for all to see."

Teal imagined trying to put the dragon’s enormous head onto a pike. You’d need at a least a dozen, not that any of their points could penetrate his hide. "How large do you think this beast is?" she asked carefully.

"The Basilisk of Dorchester was twice the size of a horse, Bard Teal," Jonah said. "I imagine the Beast of Greenford is of a similar size, perhaps a bit larger. Otherwise it would consume all the creatures about the land, and eventually starve itself."

The dragon is bigger than a dozen’s dozen of horses, Teal thought. You fools have no idea of what you are up against. "I have heard that it is larger than that. Much larger," she told them. Though she couldn’t blame for their assumption. The dragon seemed to have an exceptionally efficient metabolism, however, and could make do on the equivalent of a cow every month or so.

"Perhaps four horses, then," Jonah said. He took a confident swig of his beer. "We’ve dealt with worse."

"You don’t understand," Teal said. She decided to take a small risk. These grubby men were led by a fool, but that didn’t mean that they deserved the dragon’s flaming wrath. "I have seen this creature. It is much, much bigger than any other beast. Bigger than the Whale that swallowed your namesake in the Bible, even."

"You’ve seen it?" the mage asked. If he were a cat, his ears would have pricked up.

Oh, damn. Too many questions, and she would have to admit to being the dragon’s prisoner. That would make life far too complicated right now. "From a distance," she said. "Flying overhead."

"Ah," Jonah said. He smiled down on her. "The eyes can be fooled, milady bard. That much I know. Seeing something flying through the sky, it’s easy to mistake it’s small size for something bigger. Don’t worry, no matter what it’s size, we’ll track the beast to its lair, and rid the world of it."

"How would you do this?" Teal asked, morbidly fascinated. She wasn’t the only one. Jonah and his band had caught the entire tavern’s attention. This fool thinks he can actually take the dragon head on. Pride was an amazing thing, her teacher had once said to her, it made men think they were invincible, and make others believe them.

"We find it’s lair," Jonah explained, perfectly willing to demonstrate his cleverness. "That shouldn’t be too difficult. They say the creature lives beyond the river, in the mountains. There will be signs of it nearby, I expect."

There definitely would, Teal thought with dismay. This band of bravos could hardly miss the coins and treasure that she and the dragon had scattered during that one fateful argument.

"Our scholarly companion knows a few things about hiding oneself from a prying monster’s eyes," Jonah continued. "All we have to do is climb up to its lair, learn its habits, then ambush it at our leisure."

"Ambush it? How?" Teal asked.

"Oh, there are ways," the mage said with a grin. "The best method I’ve find is draw beasts out of the lair, usually by threatening an attack. When the come out, you just drop the boulder you’re levitating above the entrance straight down onto their heads."

Which might just be enough to irritate the Dragon, Teal thought with dismay. These fools are going to die unless I do something…

* * *

It was all that she could do to slip out of the tavern that evening. Jonah and his comrades in arms demanded that she play several rousing songs, which they sang lustily to for most of the day. Fortunately, around sundown the last of them fell over drunk, and Teal made her escape. Once beyond the village she started running, using the North Star as her guide.

It was a nightmarish trip through the woods. Teal found herself falling to the ground several times, as unseen tree roots rose up from the path to trip her. It was dawn by the time the sun rose, and she finally made it to the river’s edge, gasping from exhaustion, her knees scraped and bloody, her dress torn in a half dozen places.

She just managed to kneel at the edge of the river without falling over, and scooped up several handfuls of water to replenish herself and wash the dirt from her face and hands. Teal judged that she had a decent head start on the mercenaries, but they would be catching up soon. She had to rest though. It would have been folly to try and wade through the ford now, weak as her legs felt. Even the comparatively gentle current might be enough to sweep her off her feet and drown her.

She was still resting a quarter-hour later, her head bowed towards the ground, when a familiar shadow passed over her. There was a warm rush of wind, and the dragon suddenly landed beside her.

You are injured, it said.

"Your powers of observation are outstanding," Teal noted. She looked up at the Beast. This was the second time it had come out during the day in her memory, the first being its search for her when she had suffered her tumble off the mountain. Was it growing bolder, no longer fearing that humans might catch sight of it?

Do you require healing? the dragon asked.

"I’ll survive," Teal snapped at him. "Take me back to your lair."

As you wish, it replied. But instead of picking her up bodily, as it before, it flared several scales at the base of its neck and said, Climb on. You shall ride properly.

"You’re joking," she declared. Ride the dragon? Better that she risk being ripped apart by the Beast’s massive claws than risk falling to her death as she was flung off.

This is not something that my kind do frivolously, the dragon said. You asked to be taken back to my home, and this how shall go.

From the dragon’s tone of voice, now seemed an ill time to argue with it. She stepped gingerly onto a flared scale, using it as a step to clamber onto the dragon’s neck. Teal hitched her skirts around her legs, and sat carefully between two large scales protruding from the back of the dragon’s neck. The scale behind her was nicely angled to make a seat back, while the one in front made of a handy place to grip. When Teal had settled herself, several of the flared scales overlapping her legs suddenly clamped down, trapping her neatly.

"Dragon! What are you doing?!" she cried out.

Do not worry, Bard Teal. That is just to prevent you from falling off, should I have to fly upside down.

"Upside d-, ahhhh!!!" The dragon leaped into the air, and Teal’s upper body was suddenly thrust back against the dragon’s scales. Its wings began pumping rhythmically, and Teal felt her seat move up and down in the manner of a spirited horse. She grabbed hold of the scale in front of her, and felt marginally more secure, at least until she made the mistake of looking down. She took one look at the rapidly descending ground, shut her eyes tightly and clamped her legs harder around the dragon’s neck.

Several subjective hours later, though it was probably only a few minutes, truly, there was a thump as the dragon landed in its cavern. Teal opened her eyes and unclamped her hands from the death grip they had on the dragon’s scale. The scales around her legs flared up once again, allowing her to slide down to the ground onto wobbly knees.

See. A much more dignified method of travel.

"The Devil take dignity," Teal gasped. "Next time, just grab me like you always do."

The dragon blinked. As you wish. Now what happened to you? From your preparations, I thought you would be away for longer.

"I only came back to keep you from killing again," Teal said. She fought the urge to sit and let her legs recover, and instead approached the dragon’s massive head, trying to keep her eyes focused on his.

The dragon blinked. Again? Who do you think deserves my wrath?

"There is a band of mercenaries in Enoch," Teal told it. "They are hunting the creature rumored to demand sacrifice from Greenford every seventh Midsummer. They have a fair idea where to look, and are badly misinformed as to your true size and power."

Ah, treasure hunters. Let them come.

"I don’t want you to kill them," Teal said.

Why shouldn’t I? They probably want to kill me.

"I don’t think they have a prayer of succeeding. They are fools, possibly dangerous fools, but they are human beings, and I do not want their deaths on my conscience."

You would not be the one to destroy them, Bard Teal.

Teal gritted her teeth, not wanting to say her next words, but seeing little choice. "I ask that you not kill them, or damage them in any way. In return, I will play, or tell a tale for you, for four days. One day for each of their lives."

This seemed to intrigue the dragon. Its great yellow eyes blinked again, and it said, A month for each life. I enjoy your tales.

"A week each," Teal countered.

Done. For four weeks of song and tales, I will spare their lives.

"Done," Teal agreed.

* * *

The mercenaries arrived at the base of the mountain two days later. The dragon caught sight of them first, so Teal and it watched the band’s progress towards the dragon’s lair. Apparently there was at least one good tracker among them, for they found the trails of Teal’s wanderings on the plain quite easily. That led them to the base of the mountain, and half-day’s delay as they rummaged excitedly through the fallen treasure that remained from Teal and the dragon’s argument the year before.

They are moving rather slowly, the dragon observed that evening.

"It’s likely they’re arguing over whether to proceed," Teal told it. "There is a lot of silver and gold down there."

I hardly think so, the dragon said. There’s barely enough down there to make a pillow for a hatchling.

"A lot for a human," Teal corrected. "One gold coin is more than most peasants see in their lives. A handful like I tossed over the side could probably build a small fortress, or buy one of those mercenaries every pleasure they’ve ever dreamed of."

The dragon was a silent for a time, then said, I had not considered that. Do you think they will leave?

"I don’t know. Their leader is overconfident, I think," Teal said. "The gold they found may be just enough to sweeten the pot."

True.

The next morning, the mercenaries began their climb up the mountain. All Teal could see was that their small camp had been abandoned, but the dragon assured her that they were coming. Its sight was such that the spell of invisibility their mage had cast was of no value.

From her hiding place on the mountain’s plateau, Teal waited as the mercenaries approached the cavern’s mouth. The only indication of activity was when a small Wizard’s Eye appeared, and floated slowly into the cavern. She wondered what the mage would think of the grisly sight that awaited the Eye within. Her own contribution to the coming show consisted of an illusion shell over a cow’s stripped carcass. The shell was an image of herself, dressed in the clothes she’d worn in the tavern, artfully retouched with a torn out throat and severed limbs. Just another random victim of the dragon, caught for a handy meal.

An interesting addition to the proceedings, but I don’t understand your reasoning behind it, the dragon had said when she had requested the carcass.

"Well, if I ever want to go into that village again, I’d rather not have them suspect that I was in league with the Beast of Midsummer, eh?" she’d told it.

But if the mercenaries report that they found your corpse, and then you turn up alive…

"They will be proven to be liars, and not to be trusted in any matter of importance," Teal finished.

Clever, had been the dragon’s only comment.

The Wizard Eye zipped out much faster than it had come in, then dissipated suddenly. Three of the invisible mercenaries proceeded up the mountain, leaving the path and proceeding along the face with the aid of pitons and ropes, while their leader Jonah stayed by the entrance. By the time they had reached the plateau, Teal had thrown up another illusion shell, this time over the back entrance to the cavern. Hidden behind it, she observed the mage (now having cast off his invisibility magic, as had his companions) as he cast a spell of levitation over a haystack sized boulder, making rise into the air. The two other mercenaries manhandled it over the edge of the plateau, right about the entrance to the cavern. It wasn’t an easy task by any means, for though the boulder floated, it still was as difficult to push as if it still had weight. It was one of the theoretical issues that Teal hadn’t any grasp of when she had been taught magic, which was why she had stuck with relatively simple illusions.

"Ready?" the mage asked softly.

"Aye," one of the other men answered, just as quiet. "You sure this will work?"

"There isn’t any reason why it shouldn’t. That boulder is twice as big as its head."

"Hope so," the third man said. "That poor lass…"

"She’ll be avenged," the mage reassured the man. For a moment, Teal felt sorry for fooling them so well.

A loud shout came from below. "Hey! Come on out, you stupid, murdering lizard! Come out and fight!" Teal could imagine what was happening now. Jonah had probably turned visible again, and was now standing in front of the cavern’s entrance, trying to draw the creature within out from its hiding place.

"Here we go," the mage muttered, and peeked over the side.

"Come on out-- Yahhh!!" Teal imagined Jonah jumping clear of the entrance, possibly swinging out of the way on his line as the monster within rushed forward, roaring with anger.

"Now!" the mage shouted. He muttered a short phrase in Imperial, and the levitation spell on the boulder was suddenly ended. The boulder dropped over the side of the plateau, and Teal heard it strike something with a metallic crushing sound.

The other two mercenaries rushed over to look, letting out great shouts of triumph as they slapped the mage on the back.

"We got the monster, boys!" Jonah cried from below. "All that gold is ours for the taking."

That was when the dragon dropped its spell of invisibility.

The first one to notice was the mage, as the air became suddenly hot with the dragon’s breath. He turned around, and found himself nose to nose with the Beast they had been hunting. The real one, not the quarter-size illusion that had been cast in the cavern below.

Teal stuffed her knuckles into her mouth, biting down as she tried not to laugh at the mage’s horrified expression. The man’s jaw opened, closed, then opened again. A wheezing sound issued forth from his mouth, and a dark wet circle suddenly appeared at waist level on his robes. He managed to lift up an arm to slap aimlessly at his companions, who turned about to also stare in helpless silence at the unimaginably enormous creature that face them now.

YOU KILLED MY CHILD! the dragon thundered. MURDERERS! I WILL CRUSH YOUR BONES TO DUST AND POUR YOUR ASHES OVER MY YOUNGLING’S GRAVE!

As the dragon shouted, its hot breath poured over the men like a windstorm. It was of such force that the mage was pushed completely over the edge of the plateau, dragging his compatriots with him. As they fell over the side, screaming in fear, Teal rushed from her hiding place towards the edge.

Not to worry, Bard Teal, they are safe, the dragon reassured her. She risked a peek over the edge anyway, and was rewarded with a view of all four men swinging desperately from Jonah’s line. As she watched, they swung over to the path, dropping on it in a pile of out flung arms and legs. None of the noticed that they had swung right through illusionary remains of the dragon’s imagined offspring.

"What happened? What happened?" Jonah demanded, as the men pulled themselves apart.

"Never mind that!" the mage cried out. "Just run!" He followed his own advisory, the two other mercs close behind him, as Jonah trailed, demanding explanations.

I must encourage them to continue on their way, the dragon said. It was making amused chuffing sounds again, and all the scales of its body were flared out. I will be back shortly.

"Have your fun, dragon," Teal advised, covering up a smile. She watched as the dragon launched itself off the side of the mountain, its wings snapping open as it plummeted almost straight down. It reached out with one claw and tore out a large chunk rock from the face, using the drag to spin itself about so that it was now flying upright. The debris from its maneuver slammed against the mountain path, sending rock shards spraying in front of the mercenaries. They all ducked, which spared them from being charred as the dragon’s fiery breath sprayed directly over their heads.

Teal watched as the mercenaries continued their mad dash down the mountain, harried all the way by the dragon. Its breath missed scorching them twice more, and it made several low passes over their heads when they reached the foot of the mountain and began running across the plain.

When nightfall came, Teal climbed back down into the cavern, to wait for the dragon’s return. She found herself feeling quite pleased with the outcome of today’s events, and cautiously hopeful. From everything she had been able to discern about the dragon, it seemed ultimately an honorable creature, sticking to the bargains it had made. Teal wondered if she might yet find herself free of it, if she could perform some service it found worthy. Compose a song in its honor perhaps, or perhaps tell an extraordinary tale.

Perhaps it might be enough to lengthen my leash, Teal thought to herself. The dragon’s odd sleeping cycle might eventually prove to her advantage. If it ever slept for five years again, would it expect her to stay near the cavern, or would she be free to wander the world, at least until it woke up again? If it thought it would sleep for longer, would it be willing to let her go all together?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the dragon’s return. It swooped into the cavern, landing on it’s belly and extending one wing to swing itself about as it lost momentum. When it rose to its feet, she could see that its scales were still ruffled in amusement.

I do believe they will continue running until they are out of Cymry, the dragon observed, chuffing quietly. It jumped into its golden bed, sending gold coins skittering across the cavern floor. I thank you for demanding that I spare their lives, Bard Teal. I have not had such amusement for well over a century.

"I’m glad my idea proved so diverting," Teal said. The dragon looked up at her, its brows wrinkling in apparent surprise.

You are? the dragon asked. I am glad as well. I am looking forward to hearing the songs and tales I have earned, for showing those fools mercy.

"I’m flattered, dragon." Teal paused, an idea popping into her head. How close did the dragon really need to have her, to feel he still controlled her? "I have a question for you though. My month of service to you, does it have to be all at once?"

Of course not, Bard Teal. I would not wish to drive you to exhaustion.

"Good," she said. "I was thinking, if I’m to give you the sort of stories you like, I may have to spend some time in the county, listening to the people. I don’t know how long I’d have stay away, but it might be several weeks."

I thought as much. I have no objection to your leaving for some time. It will be over half a year before our agreement is complete, after all.

Teal paused, trying to understand the dragon’s statement. "What do you mean ‘over half a year’?" she asked. "Our agreement was for a month."

Four weeks. Six hundred and seventy-two hours of performance, to be exact.

"Six hundred-" Teal sputtered. "Are you mad? How did you come by that figure!"

The agreement was for four weeks of songs and tales, the dragon said with precision. There are seven days in a week, and twenty-four hours in a day. So our agreement was for six hundred and seventy-t---

"It most certainly was not!" Teal shouted. "I can only play or speak for four hours a day at the most, six if I want to risk straining my throat or tearing my fingertips off."

That’s why I assumed it would take half a year. I don’t expect you to play twenty-four hours in row.

"When I said ‘play for four weeks’ I meant playing once a day, for as long I did the day you told me your story. I did not mean for you to assume I would give you twenty-four hours of performance."

Ah. I understand your reasoning now.

"Good," Teal said. "So, approximately four hours of song and stories, for twenty-eight days, correct?"

No.

Teal froze. "What?" she asked carefully.

My assumption shall take preference, the dragon rumbled. Six-hundred and seventy-two hours, no less.

"That isn’t fair!" Teal objected.

The dragon raised his head, towering above Teal. It is what I agreed to, in return for sparing those fools’ lives.

"So if I don’t give you those hours, you will hunt them down and kill them?" she asked.

Possibly. Or I may simply revoke your parole.

"You couldn’t keep me from trying to climb down the mountain again, even if you blocked the path." Teal warned. "There would have to be some time when you left the cave that I could try."

Quite possibly, the dragon agreed. But consider this. You call the bracelet I make you wear your leash. Would you prefer that it be replaced with a real one?

"Bastard," Teal spat. She retreated to the questionable privacy of her hut, and slammed the door tight.

* * *

The dragon stared at that door for a long while, listening to the sobbing he could hear beyond it.

It was a very long time before he understood it.

The End

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