Page 24 of Henry & the Dragon
They returned to the livery and claimed the horse. With Dmitra on the back, clinging to Henry’s waist, they headed toward the cave Constance had seen, and their destiny.
Chapter 8
“Are you well, Dmitra?”
“I am,” she said from behind him. “I am unused to being on a horse, though.”
Henry chuckled. “I too have bruised flesh from riding. I am sorry I couldn’t make the trip easier on you.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just… I can’t believe I’m here. I never expected to leave my town. I thought I would be like my mother, and her mother before her. I would live with people who feared me, raise a family if I was lucky enough to find love, and die there. It’s….”
“What is it? Please, tell me.”
She squeezed a little tighter. “Mama had the sight, and she said that I did too. I would often dream of a life outside of that which I thought I would have. If I’m honest, I believed it was only fancy. Now? My stomach is in knots over what lies ahead for me. My gift isn’t nearly as good as my mother’s.”
“You’re young. Like all things, it will take practice and patience. I learned herbalism from watching and trying different mixtures. Some worked, others did not. If you do indeed possess the gift of sight as your mother says, it will grow as you do, I would think.”
She hummed. “Tell me about yourself, please.”
It made sense for her to ask. She didn’t know him at all, and yet her mother had sent her off with a stranger. It wasn’t much different than Henry and Neron.
“My name is Henry Cabot. I come from a town called Innernook, far to the east. My father died after the war, and my mother raised my sister Meredith and me by herself. It wasa hard life, but she was a good provider. When I was much younger, even more than you, Merry got sick. She was frail and weak, barely able to get out of bed. Mother fed her broth, as it was the only thing she could keep down, plus she cared for me, and did her best to keep our farm going. It didn’t work. Too many things were being ignored, and the farm was in danger of failing. Then a man called Neron, who ran the apothecary, came to them and said he had medicine which would make Merry better, but that it was very expensive.”
This part still stirred rage in Henry, especially now that he knew the truth.
“Mother told him she could not afford to pay him, and he said he would give it to her. In exchange, he wanted me to be his apprentice. She refused, but I said I would do it if it would save my sister. My father was already ill after he returned from battle, and it made life even harder. I thought if I could relieve my mother of this burden, then at least her life would be better. Just before I left to live with Neron, my father took a turn for the worse. Mother was bereft, and begged me not to go, but Merry was getting sicker, and I felt I had no choice. I went with Neron, leaving my mother crying, and started my new life.”
“But it wasn’t a good life,” Dmitra said, her tone certain.
“No. Neron told me he was sending medicine to Merry, and that I should be grateful, because he was saving my sister’s life. And I was, believe me. I did everything I could to pay him back for keeping Merry safe. For years I toiled in his shop, doing the cooking, the cleaning, the chores he didn’t want to do. And I was okay with that, because it was ensuring Merry’s life. When I asked if he was going to teach me, he scoffed and said I needed to learn patience. It wasn’t until recently I realized everything he told me was a lie. Merry got better, and hadn’t gotten medicine from Neron for years. He kept my mother’s letters from me. He—he—“
Tears of anger and frustration streamed down Henry’s cheeks as he relived the things he’d lost. He wanted to scream his anger to the heavens, hoping that Neron would hear him and cower. Dmitra ran her small hand over his back, murmuring that it was okay. It wasn’t though. Henry had murdered Neron, sure as the day is long. He didn’t regret what he’d done, but he realized if Dmitra came with him, she would be in danger too.
“You should know that I killed him. I will understand if you want me to find someone else to take you.”
It was a harsh thing to say to a child, but Henry wouldn’t lie about what he’d done. At least not to the girl who he’d adopted as his own.
“I think he deserved what happened to him,” Dmitra said with a sigh. “I can’t imagine how you must feel.”
“I wanted him to pay for what he did. Not to me, but to my mother and my sister. He told them lies, he took me from them, even though he knew Merry would heal. For two and twenty years, I was bonded to him, and he kept everyone who loved me away with deceit.”
And possibly killing Kai, though now that Constance said he lived….
“Dmitra, do you see the man your mother said was in the cave?”
“No,” she said, a hint of sadness creeping in. “When Mother told me of him, I asked why I couldn’t see him. She said it was because a swirl of possibilities surrounded him, and my gift wasn’t sharp enough to discern between them. I do know she found him fascinating, though. She said she could see why you cared so much for him.”
Heat rose up Henry’s cheeks at the thought Constance had seen them together. And as Dmitra was unable to tell him anything further, Henry opted to once again change the subject.
“When this is over, and Kai is safe, I would like to take you to live on my mother’s farm, if Kai is willing. My sister has children of her own, and I think you would do well with people to play with.”
She giggled. “That would be wonderful. In our village, people were afraid of my family, so I had no friends.” She placed her head on Henry’s back. “You won’t leave me there, will you?”
Henry could understand her question. Many was the night he hoped his mother would come for him, even though Henry had chosen to go with Neron. As the years passed, he matured and understood her need to care for Merry. Or, at least he thought that was what she was doing.
“No. Where I go, my daughter will go with me.”
“I never knew my father,” she told him. “Mother said he too died in the war, but I don’t think that was the truth. When I asked about him, I thought she was sad, but not for his loss. It was odd.”
