Dragon Lovers excerpt

(From Mary Jo Putney’s “The Dragon and the Dark Knight.”  It is the beginning of Chapter 4, after Sir Kenrick has had his first meeting with the dragon, and barely survived.)

            Kenrick gradually become aware of his body again.  A very painful, throbbing, beaten up body.  His ribs and left hand were bound, and his lower right leg was splinted.  Had he been in a tourney where every horse in the field rode over him?

            Piece by piece, he remembered the rocky islet, the bandits and the girl.  Then the great dragon that had sent him to his doom.

            Though he’d died unshriven, this place didn’t seem hot enough for hell.  But would he hurt so much in heaven?  Purgatory, that would be it.  Perhaps some of his sins had been canceled by his attempt to save the maiden, so he would suffer the torments of the damned for a limited time.  Eons instead of eternity. 

            Dully he wondered if the damsel had survived.  He hoped so.  It would be good to know his death had accomplished some good.  She had been a lovely creature…. 

            When he came awake again, his mind was much clearer.  He opened his eyes and saw raw stone above.  Yet his bed was comfortable and warm blankets covered him. 

            And the air smelled of flowers.

            Ignoring the pain, he turned his head to study his surroundings.  He seemed to be in a cave, a well furnished one.  Beside his bed, the rocky chamber contained a chest, a table, a bench, and a wooden chair with arms.  On the table was a rough pottery vase filled with fragrant blossoms.  Though Cornwall was warmer than the rest of England, flowers were still unexpected at this season. 

            His hauberk was draped from the back of the chair, his sheathed sword and dagger laid neatly underneath.  He was grateful for that—armor and weapons were far too dear to replace. 

            Candles glowed in wall sconces, and there were even carpets on the floor, warming the cold stone.  A piece of tapestry cloth covered the exit and seabirds could be heard crying outside.  He must still be on the island.  But how had he avoided dying?

            A shapely silhouette appeared against the light in the doorway.  The maiden!  He started to sit up, then fell gasping back on his pillows as agony lanced through his ribs. 

            “You are awake!”  The maiden rushed to his side, then halted, her sea-change eyes wide and wary.  The magnificent red-gold hair was plaited into a thick braid that fell past her waist.  “You were so badly injured that I wasn’t sure I could heal you.” 

            Her exquisite, mobile face was enough to dissolve a man’s wits even if he wasn’t dizzy already.  “I am Kenrick of Rathbourne,” he managed to say.  “I am sorry there is no one to introduce us.”

            Her eyes lit with laughter.  “This is no royal court.  I am Ariane.  I am pleased to meet you, Sir Kenrick.”  She laid a cool hand on his forehead.  “The fever is gone.”

            She pulled the blankets down to check his bandaged ribs.  Her light touch sent a spark between them that startled her as much as him.  He was embarrassingly aware of his nakedness below the blankets, and he tried not to think of who had undressed him.

            She covered him again and stepped backwards.  “Would you like some broth?”

            Kenrick considered the idea.  Ordinarily broth was not very interesting, but it sounded right at the moment.  “That would be very welcome, Mademoiselle Ariane.”

            “Ariane will do.  We are not so formal here.” 

            She turned to the table, where a tankard was steaming.  He could smell the meaty scent of the broth, and wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before.  “I’m glad that you escaped the dragon, Ariane.  I came here to slay it, but the bandits left me in no shape to attack the beast.” 

            Now that he had seen the dragon, he doubted any knight could defeat it except through luck.  Perhaps a large, heavily armed and armored group could manage it, but a single knight?  No. 

            Ariane slammed the tankard back on the table and turned to glare at him, her braid swirling like a cat’s tail.  “I have had enough of idiot knights coming here and attempting to kill a dragon that has caused them no harm!  Lord Magnus has been slashed with swords, shot with arrows, and stabbed with lances.  If you hadn’t been wounded by the bandits, you would have done the same.  You should be ashamed of yourself, sir!”

            He stared at her.  “So you live here willingly and are not a prisoner?”

            “Of course I’m not a prisoner!  And I must tell you, sir, that I like Lord Magnus a good deal better than any knight I’ve ever met.  That includes you.”