Cadmus and the child.

Cadmus moved slowly, stealthily; his sinuous body curving around an ancient moss-covered Birch. He felt every bit of his twelve hundred years. Finally, he headed towards a clearing between the canopy where sunlight streamed to the grass.

Is that a human child I see? A tingle ran down the dragon’s scaly spine and made his tail swish in a slow and methodical manner. It is dirty, but not too dirty to eat. The small child was sitting on the grass, it was streaming with snot and tears, and making an awful noise. Cadmus scanned the forest for larger human shapes.

Alone. It is alone.

His focus narrowed and Cadmus hummed with pleasure. He dipped his head down low, slithered between the trees, and sidled up behind the infant, claws sinking into decades of leaf litter. It does not even know I am here. It is too easy. Cadmus wanted the child to be older, to run. Where is the fear? He remembered the smell of fear. It was exhilarating to chase down a human, to see it tremble and squirm as he pressed it to the ground under his claws.

This one is too small; I could swallow it in one gulp. I want to suck the flesh off its bones, and then toss them to the back of my cave. Cadmus sighed and sat on his haunches, his tail had stopped swishing, his spine no longer tingled. He should just eat this snack and continue the hunt for a meal.

The child did not get up, it just sat there and squawked. How did it get here? It must have a parent, Cadmus smiled to himself, and that parent will return. He settled himself among the leaf litter and bushes and his scales changed hues to blend in with the forest. He closed his eyes and became barely visible. He would wait. Time is nothing to a dragon.

The hours went by, and the day began to darken, Cadmus had watched and listened all day, he knew there was no other human in the forest. The child had slept for the last few hours, but now it was awake and squawking again. Cadmus watched it get to its feet, walk around the clearing and return to the spot where it had been sitting. He smelled fear, but it was not fear of him, the child was completely unaware of his presence.

Watching the child like this had recalled memories of another human, the only other human he hadn’t eaten on sight. He whined to himself. Reeves had filled his cave with music and merriment, his lyre and harpsichord were still in the cave. He missed the man’s stories, and his mouth drooled with saliva at the memory of animals he had roasted on a spit. Reeves had hunted with a bow and picked herbs in the forest, and Cadmus had allowed him to go to the village once a year for spices and condiments. Reeves was not a captive; he had stayed by choice and he always returned.

He had called Cadmus “Melomane,” a lover of music, “Cadmus doesn’t suit you.” He had said, after having lived in the cave for about a month, “you are more than your teeth.”

Dark had fully arrived in the clearing when Cadmus stirred. He ran and snapped the child up with his jaws. His wings unfurled as soon as he left the cover of trees, and with one swoop, he took to the air. He flew into the night sky, towards his crevasse, to the entrance of his cave.

When he landed, he rolled the child out of his mouth with his tongue. It lay there, looking up at him, silent, its eyes huge compared to the rest of its face. “Hello child” Cadmus spoke with great civility.

“Where is my Mummy?”

“I do not know where your mother is child, but you live with me now. I am Melomane, and you will be my servant. I shall call you Reeves.”

This was going to be good. New Reeves would cook him roasted animals and play him music, New Reeves would tell him stories and entertain him.

“There child, are blankets for you to sleep on. I shall feed you now, and when you are grown you shall feed me.” Cadmus turned and left the cave in search of food. They ate the morsels together and then the child slept while Cadmus spent the night hunting larger morsels of his own.

In the morning Cadmus walked the child to the stream and pushed it in. “Wash child. You stink.” It splashed around gasping and sinking until he plucked it back out of the water. It cried again and so he dried it off with his warm breath and then showed it how to find herbs, mushrooms, and moss.

The days and weeks passed and the child grew, it was still useless as a servant, but it was getting stronger. He taught it to hunt, to cook and to play the instruments Reeves had left. It had none of the skill that Reeves had possessed. Cadmus did not know what was missing, he simply assumed the child was deficient. There were many days he thought of just eating it. But he found that he enjoyed retelling Reeves’ stories.

The child was not afraid of him, in fact it had taken to polishing his scales and scratching the leathery parts of his skin and Cadmus enjoyed the attention. It had grown taller and was able to fetch water and turn a spit with a small animal roasting on it. The taste was not as flavoursome as Cadmus remembered, but then Reeves had gotten spices from the village.

New Reeves knew the village existed, but only as Cadmus himself knew it, from the stories Reeves had told him, and from his own memories. Cadmus shared the stories, but kept his own memories to himself. Cadmus had rained terror on the village in his prime, he had gone there once a decade to eat his fill. He had collected the offerings they left him in the square. Jewels, gold, animals, and the humans they saw as expendable, tied to posts. He had slept then, comfortably in his cave, piled high with the treasures from hundreds of years, and many villages.

Cadmus sighed; he had made a deal with Reeves. One life for many. Reeves had offered to stay with him willingly, entertaining him and making his life easy so he did not need to hunt or raid, and Cadmus would leave the villages alone.

Dragons lived much longer than humans, but Cadmus continued to keep his end of the deal long after Reeves death. The villagers had not had any reason to fear him for over a hundred years. Cadmus stayed in the forest, hunting animals and hibernating in his cave, but he did miss roasted meat and entertainment. It had been an unfair deal.

Perhaps having New Reeves would make it seem fairer. Cadmus did like having the child around, it was nice not to have to hunt for himself again. He could laze in the shaft of sun that streamed into his crevasse in the middle hours of the day while the child hunted. He congratulated himself again for not eating it on sight.

Cadmus had waited patiently for it to grow up and replace Reeves. But it seemed that New Reeves was not ever going to be the same as the old. The differences bothered Cadmus enough that one morning, he asked if she would like to go to the village. The child was no longer a child, and Cadmus had realised it was female. There was a risk she may not return, but Cadmus longed for the spices that Reeves had brought back.

“I am content here, with you.” She had replied and Cadmus rumbled with pleasure. He was as vain as any dragon, and this pleased him.

“The village has an establishment, it used to be called “The Larkspur” where humans gather to play music. You could go and learn a new song.”

“A new song would be nice. But I am not sure that I understand the point of music.”

“You have not heard real music. Reeves’ music made my chest hum and my tail twitch.”

Perhaps music was not a skill that all humans possessed. Cadmus still hoped it was something she could learn. “I want you to go to the village. You will find musicians and learn from them, and buy the spices on this list. He passed her a piece of paper and a pouch of coins from the back of the cave. While you are there, listen to their stories, I want to hear some new ones. Remember that very few humans are worthy of trust. Listen more than you speak, and do not tell anyone where you live.”

New Reeves packed a sling with mushrooms and berries and some strips of rabbit and left at first light. She turned back towards him before she left the cave. “I will be back in a week,” then she turned and walked out into the dawn. Cadmus closed his eyes. He would sleep until she returned.

-o0o-

Nureevs walked confidently, in no hurry. She knew the way to the village, even though she had never entered it. It was ten miles west of the cave, and she would be there before the sun was high. Her plan was to slip into the crowd unseen.

Up close, the village was bigger than she had expected. The buildings were taller than Melomane, and wider than the cave. She walked on the streets between them and felt like everyone saw her. Her clothing was old and several sizes too big. It had belonged to Reeves, the man who had been Melomane’s friend and companion before he had rescued her, and the brown trousers were rolled up several times at the bottom.

The people walking past her wore well fitted clothing, in various colours, and all of them wore shoes. They spun their heads to look at her. “So much for slipping into the crowd.” Nureevs wished she had brought some of Melomane’s scales to cover up with.

She slunk away from the crowds to the edges of the street, trying to blend in with the buildings, but the buildings had cold, transparent walls and people inside stared at her too. Nureevs was about to turn back towards the safety of the forest when she heard music. Enthralled, she followed the sound. Melomane had been right, what she had been playing was not music!

Nureevs slipped inside the building that she guessed must be the Larkspur, and melted into a dark corner to listen. Tears welled in her eyes and her chest hummed as the music washed over her. She swayed without effort, and felt the notes in her soul. When it stopped, she opened her eyes to find a boy standing in front of her.

“Hi, I’m Jacob, you’re new in town.”

“Hello. My name is Nureevs, and I arrived today.”

Jacob screwed up his nose and then laughed. “What kind of name is Nureevs? I’m going to call you Nu.”

“Nu?” she smiled back at him, she had seen people over the years in the forest, but only from a distance. She had no memory of smiles, but she knew in her gut that it was good. She relaxed a little, this was going well.

“So, Nu, why you are wearing your father’s clothes?” Jacob said, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looked her over. “Did you run away from home?”

“I don’t have a father, and these clothes are all I have.”

He nodded. “Come with me.” He began to walk away, out of the Larkspur and onto the street. Nureevs hesitated, but he looked back and gestured to her to follow. “Come on Nu.” He smiled, and she decided to trust him. Jacob took her down the main street and then turned into another. He walked past five houses and entered the gate of the sixth.

“This is my place, my Nanna takes in boarders sometimes, travellers like you. I have five sisters, and lots of Aunts, so I’m sure we can do something about your clothes.” He laughed and they went inside.

Soon Nureevs was surrounded by colourfully dressed females, she could see that some where young and others were older, there was one who was about her height, and one who was smaller. Their eyes crinkled up when they smiled, and Nureevs felt a lightness in her chest.

One of the women, a wide one with white hair, shushed the others and came to stand in front of Nureevs. She held her chin in her hands and looked into her eyes, she turned her face left and right and then clucked her tongue. Nureevs felt like the woman had seen inside her and knew her.

“Margaret, run a bath for Nureevs, and find her some fresh clothes.” A girl nodded and took Nureevs by the hand. She led her to a room with a cold floor and a big tub. Nureevs put a toe into the water and cried out in surprise… it was hot! She slowly lowered herself into the tub and groaned.

Margaret had put out clothing on a chair, and a large piece of cloth on the side of the bath. She had called it a towel and said it was to dry herself. It worked well, not as well as dragon breath, but she was dry. She put on the clothing, undergarments that were soft and white, and a yellow dress embroidered with flowers around the waist. There was a pair of shoes that were the same colour as the dress. They were not very comfortable though, so she took them back off and left them on the chair.

Margaret knocked on the door, “you look lovely, would you like me to do your hair?”

“Yes.” Nureevs said and smiled, she was sure that whatever Margaret planned to do to her hair, it would be good. She sat in a chair and Margaret stroked her hair with a brush until her senses were in overload and her scalp was throbbing.

Dinner was served at a table, there were plates with all sorts of foods on them, Nureevs tried to draw the scene in her mind, to remember the dishes so she could tell Melomane all about it. There was roasted lamb that she barely needed to chew, it was so soft. Nureevs ate potatoes with butter and asparagus spears, there was corn on the cob and spinach mixed with something white that made it taste heavenly. Nureevs asked to be taught how to make the dishes and the wide, white-haired lady laughed.

“I will teach you” she said. “But first, tell me your story? Where are you from, and where are you travelling to?”

Nureevs was disarmed by the kindness in her tone, and the wisdom in her eyes. She had practiced a story with Melomane, but right now, she could not remember how it started. She laughed nervously, “I am a bit disoriented after walking through the forest. I cannot remember which direction I have come from, but I know I am headed to Eudale.” She breathed, thankful to recall the name of the village Melomane had taught her.

“It is off-putting to be so disoriented,” said the white lady. “Perhaps after some rest, you will feel more yourself. You may stay here if you need to. Margaret has space in her bunk.”

“Thank you… “Nureevs dropped her eyes back to the table, she didn’t know what to call the white lady.

“My name is June dear, but you may call me Nanna, like everyone else here.” She smiled and patted Nureevs hand before turning her attention to someone else. Nureevs felt like the sun had gone behind a cloud.

“How about a story Jacob?” June gestured to the boy who had found her at the Larkspur. The table erupted as everyone pounded on it with their hands.

“Okay, okay” said Jacob, standing and grinning with enjoyment. “How about a tale about my Great, Great, Great Grandfather John Reeves?” He nodded to Nureevs and she knew that he was telling a well-worn tale for her benefit.

A hundred and thirty years ago, on the night of the full moon in April, the town was preparing sacrifices for Cadmus. There were sheep and goats, and a cage full of rabbits. They would soon be joined by the old folks who were close to dying, and all the accursed ten-year old’s who had been born on the night of his last visit.

“Who is Cadmus?” Nureevs asked, and then wished she had not, when all eyes turned to her.

“Cadmus?” Jacob shook his head, “where have you been that you haven’t heard of the dragon who raided and plundered every village within a hundred miles of here for centuries?”

Nureevs froze, Cadmus is a dragon? She couldn’t speak and the silence became uncomfortable.

“Get back to your story Jacob.” June nodded at the boy and looked sideways at Nureevs. There were questions in her eyes.

“Yes Nanna. As I was saying.”

It was the night of the full moon in April and there was only one family in the village who had a boy born on the fateful night ten years hence. John Reeves did not want to sacrifice his son James to the dragon, so he waited in the town square that night instead. He knew he would likely die, but he had a plan, and “with a bit of luck,” he said, it would work.

Nureevs saw the family shuffle into comfortable positions, some hugged or leaned, but all listened.

John stood in the town square with a bag of coins and a torch. He was unarmed, but had a lute strapped to his back. The night fell, and the moon rose, and the townsfolk retreated behind their shutters and doors. John stood fast and watched the sky.

Just after midnight he heard the swoop of huge leathery wings as the dragon dropped from overhead. He landed with a light clatter on the cobblestones and John heard the scrape of his claws as he walked. John’s heart was beating like it would fly out of his chest. He lit the flaming torch and caught the beast’s attention. “Dragon!” he shouted.

The dragon turned to him and brought his face down to look at John.

“Who dares speak to Cadmus?”

“I am John Reeves, father of a child born on this night a decade ago.”

“Ah, yes. You people offer up those tender morsels to me, where is it?”

“I want to offer you myself in his place.”

“You want me to eat you instead? I have a better idea, how about I eat you both, and then I eat the entire town.”

“Wait!” John called desperately

“Why?” The serpent said in his oily voice.

“I have an offer that might interest you.”

The dragon gulped down a sheep and then turned back to John Reeves. “I am listening.”

“I will offer you one life for many.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a deal.”

“Not if you eat me… but my offer is to come and live with you. I offer to hunt for you, to cook meals for you so you will never have to hunt again. I will entertain you so you are never bored, I will offer my life for the lives in my village, in all the villages. I will be your servant, and you will stop raiding.”

“You think you could meet the needs of Cadmus, Dragons Teeth, Avenger of the Sacred Dragon, Fomenter of Dissent, Torment of Thebes?”

“I would like to try.” John Reeves bowed before the boastful, arrogant beast and waited for him to eat him.

The dragon saw the Lute hanging from John Reeves’ back. “Play me some music. If I like what I hear, I will give you a trial for one month.” John agreed. He pulled out the lute and played a heartfelt melody.

Now John could play in a way that touched your soul, he could make you cry and make you laugh. The dragon listened as John changed the melody to a fast-paced happy tune. He danced as he played, and the dragon’s tail thumped to the melody. He played for over an hour, fast and slow, and the dragon enjoyed it.

“John Reeves, you will be my servant. You will hunt for me and cook for me, and I will rest from my hunting and raiding. In one month, if I am replete, I will allow you to live and we will have a deal. If I am hungry, I shall eat you.”

And that was how John Reeves became Reeves number 1, the servant of the dragon, first in a long line of “Reeves” to serve our town by keeping Cadmus at bay.

Jacob bowed and the family clapped and laughed.

Nureevs head felt full of bees. The name “Reeves,” the dragon, the music, the lute. The coincidences were too much! And, what did he mean by Reeves number 1?

Nureevs had heard Melomane muttering to himself when he was hungry… especially in winter when it was harder finding a meal in the snow. She had heard him say the name Cadmus, but was not aware that he had been talking about himself. Clearly this “Cadmus” and her Melomane were one and the same dragon. She could see that the people in town did not know him as she knew him. She noticed June watching her and felt exposed. She needed to get back to the forest, back to the cave. She needed to talk to Melomane.

She looked around at the room full of food and smiling people. She would slip away before the dawn. Later, she headed towards the room that Margaret had shown her. She was focused on finding her clothing and so she didn’t notice June following her until she spoke.

“I would like to speak with you Nureevs. Would you mind following me?”

She followed her to a quiet corner with a comfortable chair in it. June sat down and Nureevs sat on a cushion on the floor. She looked towards the door and took note of the obstacles between her and the exit.

“My dear, you are safe here. You can relax.”

Nureevs felt exactly the opposite.

“Jacob’s story seemed to have disturbed you dear. Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes. Perhaps I am just tired from travelling, it was a good story, he made it seem so real.”

“It is real.” The old woman laid her hands, calmly, in her lap and smiled.

Nureevs was out of her depth, Melomane had not prepared her for this.

“Thank you for the dress,” she pulled at the skirts, trying to divert the conversation. “It is beautiful.”

“Yes, it is. Would you like to meet the woman who made it?”

“Oh yes!” she said eagerly. Diverting the old woman had been easier than she had expected.

Nureevs turned gratefully to the mirror. She had never seen herself in a full mirror before. She was used to seeing the warm brown of her face, large eyes, and wide mouth in the small hand mirror at the cave. But now, she saw herself in full, dressed like she belonged here, her black curls tamed into a braid. She was still looking when another woman walked into the room. She was one of the older women she had seen when she arrived. Her black hair was streaked with white. She smiled at Nureevs, but her eyes looked sad, worn out.

“You made this dress?”

The woman nodded. “I make one every year for my daughter.”

“Thank you for letting me wear it.”

“You are very welcome.”

“Which of the girls is your daughter? I would like to thank her too.”

The woman took a sharp inward breath and June reached out to hold her hand.

“Nureevs, this is Agnes, her daughter is Lillian.” Both women were looking at her strangely and she was not sure why. Nureevs turned back to the mirror.

“I think I am tired; do you mind if I go to bed now?”

“Of course. There is a night dress on the bed.”

Nureevs slept lightly. The bed was soft and Margaret’s warmth was comforting in the cold hours before dawn, but she slipped out while it was still dark. She still didn’t know where her own clothes were, so she wore the yellow dress. She felt bad about taking it, as it had seemed so special to Agnes, but she left a coin on the dresser to pay for her lodging and hoped it was enough to cover the dress.

Out on the street, Nureevs headed for the general store to wait for it to open. She had the coins Melomane had given her in a skin pouch with the list of spices. She tucked herself into a dark space under a low branched tree and waited.

Most of the village slept, but a few people had begun to move about. She smelled fresh bread baking and her stomach grumbled. The grocer looked rather unhappy to be out of bed. She watched him opening his doors and lighting lamps. She waited for him to be settled, and for two early customers to leave, before she left her hiding place. The bell on the door jangled when she entered, and Nureevs jumped. She saw the grocer looking at her with narrowed eyes, and her palms began to sweat. She approached the counter warily.

“What can I get you?”

Nureevs handed him the list and said in a confident voice, “I would like the things on this list. And I need some clothes.” She pointed. “The green pants and shirt, and I want those boots.”

His eyebrows raised and he looked her over. “Those are hunting clothes.”

“Yes.”

“They are for boys.”

“They are for sale?”

“Yes…”

“Great.” She said coldly, “Then I will take one of each in my size. I also need a dozen of those arrows.” She stared at the grocer like she was taking aim, and he shrugged his shoulders and took the list.” Nureevs relaxed a little, but kept her eye on the door. She’d had her fill of town and was eager to be among the trees again.

The grocer wrapped her purchases in paper and held them out to her.

“So, the dragon didn’t eat you after all… Lillian.”

“I, I don’t know what you are talking about.” Nureevs said, stuttering and then gushing. She reached for her parcel.

The grocer grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “I know who you are.”

Nureevs was very confused. “Let me go!”

“Did you think I wouldn’t recognise Reeves’ list? I served him every year before he died. My father served him before that. Always the same.”

“So, I buy the same things as a long dead man, what concern is that of yours?”

“I want to know about the dragon.”

“I can’t help you.”

“I was the one who took you out there.”

Nureevs was not following, she didn’t know what to ask and so she was silent.

“Your mother was hanging the washing and you toddled off. He grinned. She didn’t see me grab you. I took you out to the forest.” He thumped his chest with his free hand. “The beast was getting closer and closer to the village with his hunting, every week. It was just a matter of time.” His eyes glazed and he seemed to be rehearsing a speech. “I knew I couldn’t take an older child; they would just wander back home. You were perfect, you could speak enough, you could walk and you were weaned. You just sat in the clearing where I left you, and cried.”

Nureevs struggled to get her wrist out of his grasp, but he tightened his grip and pulled her closer. His teeth were black and his breath stank.

“So where does it live, Lillian Reeves?”

Lillian Reeves? Was that her name? A part of her knew that the dragon had named her Nureevs, but it had been so long and she was so at home in the cave that she had forgotten she must have come from somewhere else. Lillian, that was the name of Agnes daughter… the one she made dresses for each year. No wonder she seemed sad.

“Let me GO!” she yelled.

“Oh I’ll let you go. And I’ll let you go back to the dragon. I will follow you, and I will kill it.” He leaned close, eyes wide, and breathed in her face. “It will have all been worth it. You will lead me to it and I will be the new town hero.”

He released her arm and she grabbed the parcel and ran from the store. She ran toward the trees, but then turned to see he was standing in his doorway taking off his apron. She knew that he would follow her to the cave. Melomane would be asleep. What should she do?

She thought of the story she had heard at dinner the night before. Could she trust June and her family? They had been Reeves’ family, and were, potentially, her family. They had not killed the dragon or disclosed his whereabouts before, and Melomane had trusted Reeves. She decided it was worth the risk.

Nureevs kept to the trees as she circled the village, looking for the quickest route back to June’s house. She would tell the family a new story, and hope they would help her. She was truly the New Reeves. It was up to her to protect the town, but also the dragon who had been her mentor, tutor and her only family until now. She could not fail.

-o0o-