Page 77 of Bride of Ice
Ian had definitely had a hand in creating the impressive beast. Two giant reptilian legs, sporting daggers for claws, perched atop the wall. A great mail-covered head with eyes of amber glass peered down at the crowd as the beast puffed smoke from between its jaws.
In Gellir’s disguised but unmistakable deep and surly voice, the dragon demanded a virgin for his supper.
The laird reluctantly offered a maiden as sacrifice. The brave and noble virgin was led up the stairs of the platform and tied to the post.
But before the dragon could claim its feast, a young knight leaped in front of the platform with a sword to save the maiden from her horrible fate.
“Fear not!” he declared. “My steel will defeat the beast!”
There was much hacking and roaring back and forth. But eventually, the knight was flung onto the pile of armor with a mighty crash. In a haze of smoke, the virgin disappeared, apparently consumed by the dragon.
Even Colban had to blink in amazement at the effect. He supposed it was done with a secret door in the platform. But it had been executed so quickly while all eyes were fixed on the dragon that no one saw the lass vanish.
The castle grieved all the next day, lamenting when the dragon returned at nightfall and a second virgin volunteered to save her clan. This time, the knight who stepped in to rescue her was armed with a bow and arrows.
“Fear not!” he announced. “My fire will defeat the beast!”
He lit a pitch-dipped arrow and fired it from the bow. The arrow trailed flame across the sky, landing with a thunk between the dragon’s eyes.
There was a tense moment when Hallie shot to her feet, no doubt fearing her siblings’ antics would either kill someone, set the castle on fire, or both.
But the fire sputtered out. Hallie sank back onto the faldstool.
Once again, the dragon triumphed. The hapless knight was tossed onto the pile. The second maiden was consumed in a cloud of smoke.
On the third and final night, the maiden who allowed herself to be tied to the post was Isabel. She smiled with calm confidence as the youth dressed like a Highlander stepped forward on her behalf, completely unarmed.
“Fear not!” he cried. “My heart will defeat the beast!”
The dragon chortled. “Your heart? That soft and tender thing that tastes so lovely going down my gullet? I shall dine on yours after I eat this virgin.”
With that, the dragon turned toward Isabel, blowing out a thick, smoky cloud.
But when the air cleared, Isabel was still there, grinning in victory.
The dragon snarled in rage, sending out another billow of roiling smoke.
Again, Isabel emerged triumphant.
“Nay!” the dragon howled. Exhaling with the last of his strength, he expelled a pathetic gray puff. “How can this be?” he despaired. “How can I be defeated by a weak human heart?”
“Because you don’t understand the power of love,” the youth declared, rushing to untie Isabel. “This day, while your belly was craving virgin flesh, my heart stole it from you.” He turned to the crowd to announce, “We were wed this morn. She is no longer a maiden.”
Colban almost choked on surprise. He had not foreseen that twist in the tale.
As for the crowd, their reaction was mixed. Some crowed at the clever ruse. Some gasped in outrage. Some silenced. Some erupted with laughter.
Hallie slowly rose, stone-faced and pale, as if she feared the young lad’s claim upon Isabel might be more than just a part of their performance.
But Colban sensed there was more behind Isabel’s story. There was a reason Isabel had dressed the hero like a Highlander. She was sending a message to her sister about the man she persisted in calling The One. It was a clumsy attempt at making a love match between the two of them, made clumsier by the fact that Isabel had performed the play for all the clan to see.
Hallie’s frown made it clear she saw the parallel too and did not approve.
Before Hallie could order a halt to the play, Isabel sent a panicked glare toward Brand the wizard. He raised his arms and hastily intervened.
“Because the champion was true of heart,” he cried by way of explanation, “the castle was saved! The dragon returned no more! And thus were born the immortal words, the rallying cry of Rivenloch—Amor vincit omnia!Love conquers all!”
The clan cheered, and the performers immediately launched into a celebratory dance. In the aftermath of the revelry, the details of the play were forgotten.
