The Dragon Book Read Online Free PDF Page B

That at least ruffled him; his face tightened. “I had four men left and a dozen families with children,” he said. “And it was my fault, Perla. I took them there. You were gone. Lucco. All the boats but one. Lost in a storm.” He took a deep breath, drawing back into the shell he had made for himself, the one that smiled all the time. He smiled. “So I did what I had to do. And so will you. Ercule is very useful to me. I want you to marry him.” He leaned over and laid his cheek against hers and walked away.
    More like a dragon than a Prince, she thought, nearly in tears again. She had not come home after all. She crept back to her sister, to find a place to sleep.
    During the following days, she drowned herself in work, making her own house, bringing up stones and withies from the deserted village on the beach. The trail up the cliff was steep and hard, but well-worn, and the other women helped her. During the day, the men went off. She was afraid to ask what they did, but they did not take out the only boat left, which lay always on the beach in the lee of the rock, its nets rotting on the sand. They brought back stories from the highway, gossip, news. At night, when they returned, Ercule came on her.
    She held him off for several nights, pushing, shoving, angry, making him shy, but she saw Marco talking to him. After that, he was bolder, he forced her to kiss him, and the next night, while he kissed her, he grabbed her breast in his hand. She wrenched away from him and went inside. It was just past the full moon, and the light shone through the holes in her dome-shaped roof, which had not yet been thatched over. She saw him come in, saw his toothy grin, and could not stop him.
    The next day, he went off with Marco somewhere, and she sat inside the hut and cried. Her sister came and sat by her and patted her shoulder. But when next the men came back, they had bread and meat and blankets and a cask of wine, and it was Ercule who sat beside her, and she could not keep him off.
    She was afraid to tell stories, and without the constant telling, the stories stopped coming to her.
    One late afternoon, Grep rushed in from the path, leading a stumbling, exhausted stranger. “He was on the sea trail,” he said to Marco. “I thought you should hear him.”
    The villagers had all come out to see what was happening, and the stranger staggered into their midst. He was in rags, his face hollow with thirst and grief. One of the women went quickly to him, brought him water, made him sit, and comforted him. The others gathered around him.
    He said, “I never saw them—I was asleep—I woke up to find the place burning. Everybody’s gone. Everybody’s gone.”
    Marco said, “Where?”
    The stranger said the name of the next village up the coast. He was devouring bread and cheese and milk. The widow beside him had already claimed him, whether he knew it or not. His mouth full, he went on, “I hid in the cesspit. The whole village burnt to the ground. When I got out in the morning, everybody was gone, or dead.”
    Perla thought, Not him, then. Not him. He hunts in the daylight. But her heart leapt.
    “You didn’t see them?”
    “That’s how I lived. If I’d seen them, they would have seen me .”
    Ercule said, “It’s that same bunch who took San Male.”
    “Maybe,” Marco said. “When did this happen?”
    “Two days ago,” the stranger said. “The night of the full moon.”
    Marco gave a short grunt. He turned to Ercule. “I think there was a full moon the night they took San Male. Go up on the high road, ask around.”
    “I will,” Ercule said.
    Perla thought, He hunts in the daylight. But on his home hunting ground. Off his range, he would be more cautious. Her palms were clammy. If you try to escape, I will definitely eat you.
    Marco said, “And find out where the Duke is. I heard he was coming back north.”
    Ercule said, “I will, Marco.”
    Perla swallowed, her hands pressed together at her breast, and