Page 22 of Henry & the Dragon
She glanced at him, but seemed reluctant to leave her mother.
“Please, Dmitra. I want to be certain you and your mother have food for the cold season to come.”
It took several breaths, but she stood and directed him to their storage room. As suspected, the shelves were bone bare. Henry opened his satchel, then started adding things to the room. Through it all, Dmitra gawped at him. Would that he could help everyone in town, but even with the coin he had left, there wouldn’t be enough. And he’d bought out the stores of several shops, so it was unlikely there would be enough food available for everyone.
His whole life, Henry had witnessed such poverty. The lords and ladies in the castles and keeps had no idea what life was like for their subjects, and as long as their appetites were sated, Henry doubted they would care if they were aware.
When their father had taken ill, no one worried if they were unable to pay their taxes. No one seemed bothered that crops were rotting in the field. All that mattered was the king got his money. Only then were they happy. Until it was time to collect the taxes again, and the cycle began anew.
“Will she get better?” Dmitra asked, turning deep brown eyes up at Henry.
The truth was, no, she wouldn’t. All Henry could do was stave off the illness. He might have extended her life, but nothing could save it. How could he tell that to a little girl? What could he say other than she would need to find a new family, or be placed in one of the orphanages that seemed to crop up overnight?
“She will, little one. You have my pledge.”
The lie was ash on his tongue, but the smile on Dmitra’s face was worth it.
Before he left, Henry again checked the wound. Dmitra was asleep in the corner, the furrowed brow now smoothed out.
“You should not lie to the child,” her mother said. “You know as well as I do, I won’t get better. The sickness is eating me up inside. Dmitra keeps bringing me food, but I cannot stomach it.” She gripped his wrist, surprisingly strong for such a sick woman. “You must take her with you, Henry. Dmitra needs someone to look after her, and that should be you.”
How could he explain to her that he wasn’t equipped to take a child on his journey?
“I… cannot, milady. I travel to a destination I do not yet know, seeking someone I cannot be certain still lives. There is also the matter of a dragon, and the fact I have sworn to kill it. As you can see, my life will be more of a danger to Dmitra than remaining here.”
In truth, Henry could take her back to Mother and Merry. They could raise her as their child. It was so far away, though, and it would take Henry far too long to get back on track.
What would Kai want you to do?
That question plagued Henry. He was without doubt Kai would insist he save the child, regardless of what happened to him. How Henry knew this to be fact, he did not know, but he was certain of it nonetheless.
“I could pay the smith to take you both to my mother’s home. She and my sister, Merry, would happily take you into the family.”
The woman gave a sad smile. “I would not survive the trip. I can already feel the hand of the gods touching me. I will not survive more than a full day.”
It was as Henry suspected, but the knowledge brought him no pleasure. “I am sorry. I wish there was more I could do.”
“You can. Take Dmitra with you. She cannot stay here, as no one will care for her.”
“My lady, I….” He swallowed hard. Though he knew he should keep his secret, he needed Constance to understand why he couldn’t take her daughter. “I will never have a wife to help raise her.”
She gave a soft smile. “She does not need a woman’s touch, Henry. She needs the love of one who has compassion for others. That would be you.”
She wasn’t understanding him at all. “No, Dmitra would be in danger if she was my ward. I—” He wasn’t sure how to explain it, but she had to be made to see that it would be dangerous.
“Do not care for the company of women? Yes, I understood that. This doesn’t mean you are incapable of raising a child, Henry. You know love in your heart. You could teach her the art of healing. Make her a good, loving father. And if, by the grace of the gods you are blessed with finding love, then two fathers will suit her just fine.”
Henry’s head swam. He had no idea anyone would be so accepting of him.
“Please, milady—“
“Constance,” she told him. “My name. Please use it.”
“Very well, Constance. I….” He wasn’t sure what he could say. “I could take Dmitra to my mother and sister. They would raise her to be a good woman.”
“You do know I have the sight, Henry? I knew this would come to pass, and I am prepared to die. Your mother would do a fine job of raising my daughter, but in your care, she will blossom. You and the man who dwells in the shadows.”
Dwells in the shadows? “What do you mean?”
