Lahith's Song

Lanith cracked the femur of the deer and sucked the warm rich morrow with satisfaction. Dropping the broken bone in the pile with the others she felt replete, ready for another week or more of tending her eggs in her mountainlair. Her feeling of contentment vanished, with a deep growl she realized something was wrong, that tickling of awareness, that seed of life she could feel from her three eggs had diminished by one, something was wrong! With a running leap she spread her huge wings and with a cracking upward surge she was airborne, nearly blowing over small trees with her wings back draft. She circled to gain altitude then did a flat glide. Aided with massive thrusts of her wings back to her lair. Halfway back she recoiled in flight as if struck by unseen forces, the second awareness had gone out, like a dying fire, she renewed her flight, striving to get home before that last flicker could go out.

Jeanny Lea strained and with the last of her strength pushed her baby out into the waiting midwife's hands. Leaning back against the cracked plaster wall of her simple cottage behind the birthing stool she signed, the midwife's helper wiped her forehead with a cool rag and offered her a bit of water. The midwife smacked the bottom of the babies feet, drawing a lusty cry. Placing the crying baby on a low stool, she cut and tied off the umbilical cord.

“Is it...” Jeanny Lea started to ask...

“A fine strong boy! With a head of dark hair.” The midwife looked puzzled as Jeanny Lea burst into tears knowing her life would never be right again.

Miles away, in her haste, Lanith nearly crashed onto the craggy ledge before her cave, she rushed into the opening and down towards the warm sands where the eggs were nestled. As she rounded the last bend, she felt the last wisp of awareness, a tiny female essence, disappear like smoke in the wind, she cried out in anguish. The sight that greeted her was horrific, a way bryn had cracked the eggs and half eaten the hatchling dragons, it looked up at her with the blood of her last hatchling dripping from its jaws. With a lunge, Lanith grabbed the invading scavenger and with a savage snap of her jaws, bit it in half, then swallowed the carcass. Mad with grief she bellowed into the setting sun, settings birds to flight for miles around and driving small and large animals to seek shelter.

The midwife looked up, she thought she heard something, but it was probably just the wind, she shivered at the mournful sound. “Now what are you carrying on about! You have a fine son!” She placed the freshly cleaned and swaddled baby on Jeanny Lea's breast. His small hand clutched her finger as she traced his features and counting his fingers.

“You don't understand.” She said with finality.

“What is there to understand, a fine health boy to care for you when you get old.” She hustled around the small cottage, gathering up the tools of her trade into a carry bag as her assistant mopped up the blood and afterbirth.

“He is Neal's bastard.” Jeanny Lea said simply.

The midwife sagged, her previously happy mood shattered. “Are you sure? How will he know?”

“Look at him, the hair, the chin, it's Neal's alright, he took my hymen behind the tavern.”

“Do you have somewhere to go? Kin nearby?”

“No, no one, I came to Lockerby from Lowton, after my family was killed in the raids a year ago.”

“I'll put out some queries, see if I can get you safe.” She pulled some dried herbs from her bag and handed them to Jeanny Lea, “Make a tea each morning and drink it down, it will help put you back right as rain.” She called her assistant who had been emptying the bloody mop water and they both turned to leave the cottage. “Now don't worry Jeanny Lea, things will work out.” She said as she closed the rough sawn door.

Jeanny Lea didn't put much hope in the midwifes assurances. Neal didn't care if you had a girl bastard she had been told, but never bare a boy, no one could dare bare a possible contender to his own legal brats. Not a king or even royalty, Neal was just the man who owned Lockerby, lock, stock and barrel. She had only been there a week when she had seen Neal's men dash the brains from a boy who only looked slightly like Neal. The entire town lived in fear, she wished she hadn't come.

Lanith keened into the coming night, why had she gone this day to feed? Surely she could have lasted another day. She let out another long mournful cry. In the village miles away, men stopped their evening chores and women felt the tug of sadness at the echoing dirge of Lanith's mourning.

As was his habit, Neal had gone to his lodge for the fall hunts. He would stay there for as long as it took him and his men to guarantee their households had meat for the winter, slaying any creatures of any worth for meat until the land around the lodge was depleted of game. Jeanny Lea heard this news with gladness, it gave her time to decide what to do and care for her new born son, at least for a while. Perhaps it was a kindness, or just a cruel joke from the gods allowing her to grow to love the small warm child only to possibly have Neal's men take him from her and slay him while they laughed.

As the weeks passed, Jeanny Lea grew ever more fearful that the next day would bring the hateful sounds of the hoof beats of Neal's men, home from the hunt with wagons full of salted and smoked game, not to share with the town, but to be put up in Neal's keep to feed him and his own. She desperately tried to find a way to hide her newborn son, but knew it was only a matter of time.

“There may be a way.” The crone whispered to her in the market. The crone sold her winter apples and herbs in the market, it was rumored she was a witch, but in reality was just a herb wise woman of the woods. She could give you a tisane to cure a cold, or the croup or clear a rash, but mostly kept to her self.

Jeanny Lea wasn't sure she had spoken. “Did you say something Grandmother?” she asked, using the honorific given to all women passed a certain maturity of years.

“There may be a way to save the child.” Horrified that others might hear Jeanny Lea took the old ladies arm and gently led her to the back of her small market stall.

“How?”

“In the woods, there is an alter to the guardian of the mountain. Place the child there on the night of the full moon, three days hence and the guardian, if she is a mind to, will take him.” In spite of the crones eyes being milky with cataracts Jeanny Lea felt like they could see to her soul.

“Leave my baby in the woods? Are you crazy?” Jeanny Lea remembered the nights she laid on her straw tick and listened to the wolves howl in the woods, not to mention the odd keening sounds of late, not as frequent as right after Kel's birth, she had named her boy for her Father, but still able to raise the hair on your neck, like the Earth itself was grieving.

“Oh, assuredly I am, but hear me, I saw it! It is the only way!” She reached out with her shrunken, claw like hand and grabbed Jeanny Lea's sleeve, “The only way!”

Jeanny Lea looked furtively around to see if anyone had heard the mad woman's cackling, but no one seemed to be listening. She tugged her sleeve from the woman's hand. “You are crazy! Leave my baby in the woods! The wolves would feast! Better to let Neal kill him than be eaten!” With that, she stormed off. She missed the sad tear that trickled from the old woman's eye, she looked towards the mountain. “I tried to tell her, I tried...” She straighten her worn shawl and pushed back her white straw-like hair and hobbled out to speak to Lobby Todd, it seemed he needed a poultice for a sprained leg, at least he would by the end of the day.

Jeanny Lea hurried back to the deserted cottage she had claimed and made her home. She tossed a few dried cow fops onto the coals of the morning's fire in the tumbledown fireplace to get a fire going. Kel was still sleeping, thank the Gods. With the few coins she earned serving at the tavern she had purchased a meager supper for herself, and her swollen breasts ached with milk she longed to feed Kel. As she put away the meager supplies she had purchased at the market she thought of the strange crone and her solution to her coming problem, leave her baby in the woods? The nerve. The sounds she made awakened small Kel and soon he was crying for his meal. She settled into the decrepit rocker she had rescued from the midden heap and reinforced with twine and, baring a breast, gave him succor. The action of his sucking and the warmth of the rekindled fire lulled her to near sleep.

The sound of a dozen horses racing by her cottage jarred her from repose, Kel had fallen asleep with a milk bubble on his tiny red lips. She laid him in his makeshift cradle, an old vegetable crate from the market, and went to the window to see who had come. Lifting the tattered curtain she could see the tavern where a bunch of loud, loutish men had just dismounted, slapping the dust from their clothes. At their head stood Neal, a large man with a handsome, but cruel, face, a strong chin, piercing green eyes and black hair. “It's been a thirsty hunt lads! First rounds on me!” He shouted, slapping one fellow so hard on the back he nearly stumbled, Neal just laughed.

Jeanny Lea knew she should go help serve, but if Neal saw she was no longer with child he or his men would soon come snooping. Kel had developed his fathers green eyes and the dark hair would be his death warrant! Biting the knuckles of her left hand nearly enough to make it bleed she turned away from the window, letting the curtain fall, she wondered, what could she do? She listened as the wagons loaded with the fall kill wheeled slowly past her window, their squealing wheels seeming to sound the death knell for her son.

Lanith felt the coming full moon in her blood like a rising tide. She remembered the days when rich offerings were made at the alter in the woods, offerings to keep her from raiding the town. A bargain made with a King years before, now devolved into myth and legend. Few even remembered her. It was rare there were offerings, and she had no desire to face the arrows, spears and swords of the men of the town. There was game aplenty in the woods, even if the loutish hunters had their bestial hunts, taking far more than they could eat. The town had little to offer, she had grown tired of trinkets, gleaming metal and sparkling gems that had fascinated her when she was younger, but no longer. Since the death of her hatchlings, she had lost interest in most everything, she hadn't even eaten since that fateful day. She felt the sadness overwhelm her and the keening rose again in the night.

The crone shivered under her threadbare blanket, Lanith's keening was like a knife to her heart, she could her the sadness and wondered at it. She had never heard the guardian make such a noise. It was all tied in with Jeanny Lea, the death threat over her baby and the strange behavior of the guardian. Of late she had been the only one to remember the pact, offerings at the full moon, meat, gold, silver or jewels and the town would be safe until the next full moon. A pact between the dragon and a long dead and forgotten King. It seemed anymore even the dragon, known for their long memories had forgotten the pact as well. She wasn't sure the few rabbits, trinkets and herbs, no matter how fragrant would satisfy Lanith if she was really interested in the pact anymore. The crone knew that when her time was through, the offerings would be as well. She fell into fitful slumber and dreams of being a princess with the dragons mournful keening filling the night air.

Jeanny Lea had been taught her basic letters and numbers by her father, he had been a merchant until the raiders had come and burned his shop, killing him and her mother. There had been a time when the King's men had patrolled the roads and kept the raiders at bay, but that time had faded into legends. She had little difficulty reading the notice posted the next morning on the Tavern door as she went in to work. She read it aloud.

“On the eve of the full moon all babies born within the last fortnight are to be brought to the keep.”

It was signed “By the Order of Baron Neal Oldson”

Baron, the nerve, from what the other villagers had said Neal was a swineherd's son who only prospered because of fear and violence, of course, what royalty hadn't started as low? She read the notice again and shivered, knowing if she complied, it would mean Kel's death. As she entered the Tavern, all eyes were on her, she looked up and they looked away, she knew they would, or could, do nothing to help. It was a slow night and the owner of the tavern sent her home, but paid her with a tip, his eyes looked at her sadly, she hated his pity but took the money anyway.

Kel was fussing as she came into the cottage, Neal was standing over the crib. Pulling in a sharp gasp she grabbed a piece if kindling wood. “what are you doing here?” She hissed.

“Is that the way to greet the father of your whelp?” He grinned savagely. His hand played with the hilt of his dagger. “I thought of you while on the hunt.” He looked at her young body lustfully, she had mostly regained the youthful pre-pregnancy figure she had the night he raped her. “Maybe I'll make you a second wife, make this bastard legitimate.” He gestured at Kel with his now drawn dagger. “I'll think about it!” He laughed, it was a cruel sound. He sheathed the dagger. “Be at the keep tomorrow night.” He turned and left the cottage, slamming the door nearly hard enough to knock it off its simple post hinges. She vowed she would kill herself, and Kel, before he let that bastard claim her, or her son!

Early the next morning she knew what she had to do. She changed Kel and fed him and after a quick breakfast of her last bread and cheese and dried fruit, gathered the few small coins she had been paid and loaded everything she owned into the small pack she had carried when she came to town. She looked wistfully at the small cottage as she turned and walked away, it hadn't been much but at least it had been hers. As much as anything in the town belonged to anyone but Neal. She knew the old crone lived in a shack at the edge of town, just before the beginning of the woods.

It was a cool morning and a pleasant walk, even carrying the pack and Kel in her arms. She was grateful she was able to get to the crones cabin before anyone in town realized she was gone, it wouldn't do to have Neal or his men learn of her fleeing the fate he had planned for her. She knocked on the crone's door and was surprised when it was almost immediately opened. “I knew you would come, come in, have you had breakfast?”

“I ate a little before I left.” Jeanny Lea answered as she came in the door. She glanced around the interior, she hadn't known what to expect, but this wasn't it. Dried flowers and herbs hung from drying racks, neatly labeled in a script she couldn't read. The inside walls were white washed and clean, the floor was well worn plank, smooth and also swept and mopped clean. There was a small neat bed, a workbench area with retorts, burners, jars and strange apparatus. The hearth was generous and the fireplace itself in good repair. A wooden trough entered through the wall and water from an artisan well flowed down it into a small spring box and out a drain in the floor. In all it was the nicest cottage Jeanny Lea had ever seen. There was an actual book and ink quill with a feather quill pen like her father had used to keep his accounts. Jeanny felt a pang of homesickness and missed her parents terribly for a moment.

“Please sit!” For being nearly blind the crone moved deftly through the cottage, pulling eggs and milk from the spring box and a small slab of bacon from a larder. She sliced several slices from the slab, cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them then started cooking the bacon in a cast iron skillet. The smells were incredible, making Jeanny Lea forget her problems for a moment. Soon a pewter plate with bacon and eggs and a slice of cheese was set before her as well as a clay mug of cold milk with a touch of cream still on the top. “I don't get many visitors these days, just when someone is real sick and needs my medicines.” She gestured to a wall rack with many stoppered glass vials. “I suppose I should tell you my name since I already know yours. When I wore a younger woman's clothes my name was Rosalee.”

“Like Princess Roselee of the song?” Jeanny Lea asked around a mouthful of food.”

“Exactly like that, I am surprised anyone remembers that old thing.”

“It was my mother's favorite, her mother sang it to her and she sang it to me, if I get the chance, I will sing it to Kel.”

“Kel, that is a nice name.”

“It was my father's name.” She said sadly.

Roselee bustled about putting the food away and hummed the tune as she did so, for an older lady her humming was clear and sweet.

“I assume Neal has posted another of his notices?” Roselee asked.

“Yes, yesterday morning. When I got back to my cottage he was there.”

“Was he?”

“Yes, he offered to make me his second wife and legitimize Kel.”

“Let me tell you a story. A couple of years ago one of the village girls, Liza, found herself in exactly your situation, and Neal offered that to her.”

“Did she take him up on it?”

“Yes. For a year he kept her as a second wife. Then he grew tired of her.”

“What happened?”

Roselee's eyes went dark, and her face drew tight. “One night in a drunken rage, he beat the boy to death. When she fought back, he knocked her out, nearly beat her to death. When she recovered he gave her to his men. She committed suicide, drown herself beneath the mill wheel.”

Jeanny Lea sagged, she knew Roselee spoke the truth and just what would happen if she acquiesced to Neal's offer.

“What can I do? If I try to run, he and his men will make a sport of catching me, and I cannot accept that animal's offer.”

“I told you what I saw.”

“The alter in the woods? But the wolves and other animals...”

“None come there at the full moon, the Guardian would slay them, she is very protective of her offerings.” At least she used to be, reflected Roselee.

“That is tonight. Would you take me?” Jeanny Lea asked, hope shining in her eyes.

“If that is what you truly want, I will, there will be no turning back, whatever happens.”

“Anything would be better than life with that pig, even death.”

“Do you remember the story in the song?”

Jeanny Lea was startled at the change of topic but saw the look on Roselee's face and knew it was important, at least to her.

“A dragon was terrorizing the countryside, the good King Roland and his Knights fought the dragon to an impasse but had to reach a compact with it, the dragon would take the Kings only daughter as a hostage to his good will and the people would pay tribute, in return the dragon would bother them no more. No one ever saw the Princess Roselee again. It is a sad song but my mother loved it.”

“Yes, I suppose it was a sad song, but did you know there was more to the story?”

“No, just the song.”

“The Princess was a great beauty and of course there were suitors from all across the lands that vied for her hand in marriage. One handsome one, Prince Cleo from Helios, won the tourney the King staged, but while he was handsome, I am afraid he was very much like Neal, a petty, evil man. But the rules stated whoever won the tourney won the Princess's hand.”

“That's not fair! She didn't get to choose?”

“Nope, she was considered her father's property to be used as he saw fit to increase the prestige and power of the land. Prince Cleo's father had great lands and armies you see.”

“To be used like that, how horrible.”

“Yes, so you see the story wasn't exactly sad, who knows maybe Princess Roselee found contentment and happiness with the dragon.” She smiled.

“If he didn't eat her”

“She”

“What?”

“Never mind.” She bustled around the cottage a bit. “Come help me gather some Moon Balm it is best taken just before a full moon.” She put a large floppy hat on over her white hair and picked up a basket. “If you can bring Kel here, I can show you how to carry him and still be able to have your hands free.”

Once Kel was settled into a sling that held him close to Jeanny Lea's breasts, they went into the cool, dark woods and Roselee showed Jeanny Lea how to gather Moon Balm and other herbs and remedies. At noon they paused, and Jeanny Lea fed and changed Kel, rinsing his swaddling clothes in a clear mountain stream. From somewhere, Roselee produced some hard biscuits and sliced cheese which they supped on. After lunch they continued into the woods, gathering and talking. In spite of the cataracts that clouded her vision, Roselee seemed almost instinctively to be able to find the best herbs. It was late afternoon when they reached a large clearing deep in the woods, at its center was an ornate stone alter carved from a single block of dark stone.

“I take it that is the alter.” Jeanny Lea said.

“Yes, it took the finest stone masons nearly a year to finish, the dragon put the stone here for them to use so they wouldn't need to tear down the forest.”

“I never thought of dragons caring, I thought they just coveted gold and jewels, terrorized towns and fought knights.”

“To hear humans talk, that is what you would think, but they have feelings just as we do.”

“So, there is no guardian, it is a dragon.”

“Yes.”

The voice was delicate and feminine, but it rang clearly in their heads. “Roselee, my darling, what have you brought me?”

Jeanny looked around startled but could see no one. Then she felt the breeze and looked up, above the clearing with gentle beats of huge wings hovered a dragon with scales of deep crimson that seemed to almost glow.

“I have brought you an offering Lanith! A fine offering.”

With amazingly graceful movements Lanith landed beside the alter.

“I see nothing.”

Jeanny Lea at once overawed and terrified stepped forward.

“I offer you my son, if you will take and protect him.”

“So brave, she reminds me of you offering yourself if I wouldn't eat your father.”

Roselee smiled. “I think you got the best of the deal.”

“You are probably right; at his age he would have been tough and stringy.”

In spite of the banter, Roselee could see Lanith was holding back and reserved.

“I heard your cries old friend, what grieves you so?” She placed a hand on the dragon's neck and stroked her.

“Dragons breed one once every few centuries, my time was a few months ago.”

“And there was no one to breed with you?” Jeanny Lea asked.

“Oh child” the sad laugh tinkled in their minds,”of course, the males come from everywhere when we females come into heat. I bred, and got three eggs from it.”

“But...” Roselee said.

“But a wayvryn found the clutch while I was away feeding, it killed them all.” Her head hung down and a single blood red tear fell to the ground.

“Oh, my old friend, I am so, so sorry.” Tears filled Roselee's eyes as she hugged the dragon's neck.

Kel chose that moment to coo.

Lanith raised her head at the gentle noise. “Let me see the child.”

Jeanny Lea brought the baby over to Lahith's large and fearsome looking head. Lanith looked down at the squirming child who reached up and laughed at her.

“So brave for one so little, but how would I care for a small human, he doesn't eat meat, and I have no nipple to give him milk.”

Jeanny Lea looked sad for a moment, the hopes for her son to have a life like no other doused, but wait...

“I offer you me, and my son. I will be your servant and care for my son.”

Lanith looked startled a moment, but then Jeanny Lea could feel the warmth of the dragons thought. “I accept.”

“I wondered if you would figure that out, you are as clever as I hoped.” Roselee smiled. “Someone has to take over for me, I am getting too old for this.” She gestured at the alter and surrounding wood.

Jeanny Lea hugged Roselee then, when she wasn't repulsed, stroked and hugged Lanith, surprised her neck was warm and smooth. Life had just become exciting and wonderful.

“Roselee, didn't you say the offerings had nearly stopped?”

Lanith looked at both of them.

“Yes, I fear I am the only one who remembers the pact. My father is long dead, the kingdom disbursed.”

“Maybe it's time to remind them, starting with Neal.” She smiled.