The Guardian Grandmother

This story is a continuation of The Dragon of the Valley.

It is, first and foremost, worthy of note that having a dragon be your grandmother is amazing.

Who gets to claim such a thing, ever?

Well, besides baby dragons, I mean.

We are not dragons, Darren or I. We are humans. Grandmother was once human as well.

But...

Due to a brilliant protective spell requested by Grandmother and executed by the beautiful magical woman, Zelda, Grandmother was transformed into a formidable dragon.

Now a guardian to the proper heirs to the throne, she stood sentry at the mouth of a large cave in the valley below the castle on the mountain. Her eyes glowed orange and with each exhale, smoke plumed delicately from her nostrils. Should it prove necessary, she could open her frighteningly fang-filled jaws and roar, expelling tongues of flames that could shoot out a dozen feet or more.

Did I say amazing? May I add awesome? Incredible?

You get the idea.

My grandmother was dragon!

Zelda stood with Mother, Darren and me inside the cave, looking more than a little pleased with herself on that fateful Fair Day.

Mother did NOT look pleased. "What on earth has happened?" she demanded.

"If it please Your Grace," Zelda began.

"It does not please!" Mother interrupted. "what have you done?"

"Your Grace, I was asked to do a protection spell--"

"I know that--"

"I can perform the spell, Your Grace, but I have no control over how the magic will manifest."

"What?"

Outside, Grandmother gave a mighty roar, and flames shot into the sky.

Darren cheered. I put both hands over my mouth to keep from doing the same.

Zelda moved to the entrance. She addressed the dragon. "Your Majesty, I will commence immediately to concoct a spell that will return your speaking voice to you."

Grandmother roared again, and I wondered if Zelda might not be making a mistake. She was sure to take a severe tongue lashing once Grandmother was able to speak.

As it happened, Grandmother wasn't nearly as upset as Mother over this turn of events.

Once her voice was restored, she said, "I do not mind being a dragon. But I do fear that I will miss my dear King and that he may well pine for me also. Is there no other way, Zelda?"

"As I explained earlier, I have no control over the manifestation these magical spells take on once invoked. The Elementals choose the path, and I can do nothing to alter what they deem necessary to achieve the goal."

The goal was to assure our continued existence in the face of the threat of death that hung over our heads.

That threat came from our very own father. The man who should be caring for and protecting us had come to covet the kingdom that would pass down once my Grandfather died.

My mother was rightful heir, followed by my brother. Unless, of course, Grandfather lived until Darren came of age. Then the kingdom would pass directly to him.

Spare me the rules of Patriarchy. If I had my way, the kingdom would be inherited by Grandmother, then mother and then...

Oh, wait. I am the first-born.

I don't want to be Queen. Never mind, after Mother, it should go directly past me and on to Darren. Not because he's MALE, however. Just because I do NOT want it.

Of course, if we're all dead, Father is in line to inherit. There are no other blood relatives.

Grandmother shook her large scaly head sadly. "Greed is a horrible thing," she sighed, smoke pluming around her snout. "Ah, me! Will I never see my sweet King again?"

Zelda promised to look for a way that our Grandparents might visit from time to time. Until the danger passed, we must do as the Elementals had guided us to do.

Zelda left us to our own devices and did not return. It would be several months before we discovered why.

In spite of the hardships we faced, we soon fell into a nice routine.

We loved the cave.

Yes, we were used to living a luxurious life in a grand castle with plush furnishings and rich accessories.

But the cave had everything we could possibly need.

There was a huge fireplace. The great chimney climbed up through the solid stone of the hill the cave hid within, and any smoke passersby might have seen would have appeared to be coming from an ancient volcano.

Or so I believed. I am gifted with a fanciful mind, and it entertains me well.

In front of the fireplace stood a solid wooden table and several chairs. To one side, there were sofas and shelves laden with books. There was a large easel for painting or sketching, and all the materials necessary for both endevours.

On the other side, there was space for storing and preparing food. It was well stocked when we arrived, although we would have to learn how to keep it filled.

At the back, there were beds for each of us, comfortably made up to keep us cozy and warm even on the coldest of nights.

Mother had gone at once to the bookshelves. "I don't know how to garden or cook," she declared, her voice trembling. "But surely, I can learn if the proper books are to be found!"

Darren joined her. "I don't know how to hunt," he said. "I will look for information as well."

"Well, then," I added, determined to do my share, "perhaps I can learn how to obtain and care for some livestock. Chickens, pigs and maybe a cow."

Granmother roared. "I daresay I can help with obtaining a few things," she said. She spread her wings and took flight.

Books are wonderful things. Among the many tomes of fairy tales and mysteries, we discovered several books that taught us how to get along in the world without the luxury of maids and gardeners, hunters and cooks.

It was sobering to realize how ill-prepared we were for hardships and how spoiled we had become simply because propriety said we must let others do for us what we were perfectly capable of doing for ourselves.

Of course, trial and error were in order. Nothing went entirely according to our first plans.

Mama did not take to gardening. She was naturally pale and wasn't much use after half an hour in the sun and heat. She didn't care to get her hands covered in mud, and she was squeemish about the bugs

She did discovered a great love for cooking, though. She rarely failed to complete a recipe to perfection, and if it didn't turn out quite right, she was quickly able to discover ways to make it better.

"I'm very pleased with you, my dear," Grandmother said. "Who would have guessed that the future Queen of Fairlands would be such an accomplished cook?"

"Or a milker of cows," Mother replied, favoring her mother with a quick curtsey.

Bossy. the cow, did not take to me, and she certainly did not like Grandmother; not after the flight home clutched securely by the dragon's talons.

But she was immediately taken with Mother and would follow her anywhere, even into the cave. She was generous with her milk. She turned up her nose at me whenever I approached her, but she would tolerate a patting from Darren.

Darren did not take to hunting. He was much happier looking after live animals. The pigs and chickens had no fear of him and thrived. There were plenty of eggs each morning.

With the animals and the cooking left to Mother and Darren, I took on the gardening. I love plunging my hands into wet soil, planting and weeding. The bugs didn't bother me.

What did bother me were the rodents. The came into my garden and stole the seeds. They ate our vegatables before they could properly grow.

I was vexed. I ranted and complained.

Very early one morning Grandmother returned from one of her short flights with a pair of kittens, one carefully tucked into each talon.

That took care of the rodent situation. Even better than being rodent deterrents, they were cute and affectionate companions. I named them Billie and Joe.

We had a cook and a cow-milker. We had an animal keeper and egg hunter. We had a gardener.

Grandmother became the hunter.

That bit of information probably came as no surprise to anyone.

Our cave was tucked away out of sight of the villages that surrounded the castle, and certainly couldn't be seen from the castle's keep. We were very careful to stay in our safe areas.

For this reason, none of us found it necessary for Grandmother to be on 24 hour a day watch. She needed to get exercise, she needed to hunt for her own food, and she need to have a break from us from time to time.

She never left for very long, and always flew off in the opposite direction from the castle and villages.

It would never do to be seen. There were many young men who would have loved to hunt a dragon, as foolish as that would have been.

I don't suppose Grandmother would have turned up her nose at some roast hunter, but she didn't seek trouble. She was wise.

Once in a while she would snatch a piglet, slash it from neck to belly, gobble the entrails and then roast it with her flaming breath. "Dinner!" she'd call.

Darren had a hard time with that at first. But it was, after all, the reason we had pigs. We had to eat. And the sows were very fertile, so if Grandmother hadn't slaughtered a few, we'd have been completely overrun with swine.

Most days, though, she flew off for a hunt. She would return to us with a haunch of venison or a brace of rabbits. We never lacked fresh meat.

Imagine our surprise, then, on the day she returned within an hour with a surprise package in her talons.

She hovered just over the ground and gently dropped the wriggling thing.

It was a child. A little girl, as it turned out. She may have been as old as three years, although I suspected she was younger.

She had one hand clutched in the fur of a magnificently crafted stuffed lion. She sat up and hugged it to her chest. She pushed her thumb firmly between her lips and began to suck frantically, tears rolling down her cheeks as she stared up at us.

I dropped down on hands and knees in front of her. "Hello there," I said. "What's your name?"

She continued to suck her thumb, watching me carefully. I sat back on my heels and put my hands on my knees where she could see them. "Are you lost?"

She nodded.

Behind me, Mother and Grandmother were whispering excitedly.

"Why would you bring her here?"

"I couldn't find any sign of her parents. I didn't see a single human for miles around."

"Oh, my goodness! How did she get out here all alone?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to do another fly-over and see if I can find anyone."

"But...what are we to do with her?" Mother threw up her hands. "Someone must be looking for her. We can't be found here!"

Grandmother looked over her shoulder, her orange eyes blazing. "Feed her. Clean her up. Take care of her! What else would we do?" She rose on widely spread wings, and flapped away.

The little girl and I watched as she flew out of sight. "Are you hungry?" I asked.

She looked back at me. She looked at Mother. Then she caught sight of Darren, and pulled her thumb out of her mouth. "Buh-dah!" she cried, and smiled.

Darren looked at me, and the shrugged. He walked up to the child and held out his hand. She stood, still clutching her lion with one hand. She took his outstretched had with her free one. "Hungy, buh-dah," she said.

"Let's go eat something, then," Darren replied. He led her into the cave.

Mother and I exchanged astonished looks.

We followed them inside.

After a couple of hours, Grandmother returned, landing near the entrance and then poking her head inside.

"Did you find anything?" Mother asked.

I went to the entrance to take the roasted rack of ribs Grandmother offered. The aroma lifting from the steaming-hot meat was mouthwateringly enticing, and I saw Darren and the child look up from the book he was reading to her as I went to set it on a counter top. Over my shoulder, I tossed back, "Thank you, Grandmother!"

"Pulled that right out of the skin," Grandmother told me, and gave me a grin full of fangs.

Fire breathing dragons come in quite handy sometimes. You nearly always get a hot meal, unless she couldn't skin the carcass properly.

"Did you?" Mother repeated.

Grandmother breathed a puff of smoke into her face. "Don't be rude."

Mother coughed. "I'm sorry. I've been...anxious."

Grandmother turned her head and gazed at the toddler leaning comfortably against Darren's shoulder while he resumed reading. "I'd prefer to speak outside," she told us quietly.

We followed her outside and wandered over to the garden. I picked a tomato and a cucumber, placing them into an apron pocket.

The huge dragon sighed. "I found an overturned wagon nearly five miles from where I found that baby," she said. "Everyone inside was dead. Two men, two women, three little boys." She raised her head and stared up at the sky. "One of them looked very much like our Darren."

"Buh-dah," I whispered. "Her brother."

"Very likely," Grandmother agreed. "I'm sure it was her whole family."

"How horrible!" Mother cried. "Whatever shall we do?"

"What do you mean?"

"How will we find her people? Don't you think--"

"What I think," Grandmother said, "is we have a little girl to take care of and love."

"But--"

"You said it yourself, Mother," I said, leaning to grab another ripe tomato as I spoke. "We can't be found." I slipped the tomato into my pocket and rubbed my hands together briskly. "I always wanted a little sister!"

"But--"

"Well...there we go." Grandmother sighed.

"I wish Zelda would come," Mother sighed.

The huge dragon's head nodded slowly, and my grandmother said, "I'm very worried about her."

She should have come by now. Where was Zelda?

Coming Soon... Part 3