Most saw the winged beast outlined in the brilliant green flames that night. Alongside each of them that morning walked a strange companion, a long lost friend who had returned so unexpectedly—hope.
They got busy at dawn preparing more wood fires. They had a system down now and were able to build up the piles with just a few hours work. Suspecting that the beast—obviously able to see well in the dark—might not be able to see through thick smoke, Vince Griffin suggested they use smudge pots. For centuries, farmers had used smudge pots to drive off insects that threatened to devour their crops and Dahlgren was no different. Old pots were promptly gathered and filled as if a cloud of locusts was on its way. At the same time, Hadrian, Tad Bothwick, and Kline Goodman began surveying the outbuildings of the lower bailey for the best shelters.
Hadrian busied himself organizing small groups of men. One group started to expand the cellar they found in the smokehouse, and another went to work digging a tunnel with the idea of trying to capture the beast. A huge serpent chasing a man might follow him into a tunnel, but if the tunnel gradually narrowed, they might be able to seal the exits before it realized its mistake. No weapon made by man may be able to slay it, but Hadrian guessed there were no restrictions on imprisoning the beast.
Deacon Tomas was far from delighted with all the digging, cutting and burning inside the castle grounds, but already it was clear that the villagers had found a new leader in Hadrian. Tomas remained quietly indoors caring for Thrace.
“Hadrian?”
He was washing at the well in the village where he could find some privacy when he looked up to see Theron.
“Been doing some digging I see,” the farmer said. “Dillon mentioned you had them making a tunnel. Pretty smart thinking.”
“The odds of it working are slim,” Hadrian explained, dousing his face with handfuls of water. “But at least it’s a shot.”
“Listen,” the farmer began with a pained look on his face and then said nothing.
“Thrace is doing well?” Hadrian asked after a minute or so.
“She’s great, as solid as her old man,” he said proudly thumping his own chest. “It’ll take more than a tree to break her. That’s the thing about us Woods. We might not look like it, but we’re a strong lot. It might take us a while, but we come back and when we do, we’re stronger than ever. Thing is, we need something—you know—a reason. I didn’t have one—at least I didn’t think I did. Thrace showed me different.”
They stood facing each other in an awkward silence.
“Listen,” Theron said again, and once more paused. “I’m not used to being beholden to anyone, you see. I’ve always paid my own way. I got what I have by work and lots of it. I don’t ask anyone’s help and I don’t apologize for the way I am, see?”
Hadrian nodded.
“But—well, a lot of what you said yesterday was true. Only today, some things are different—you follow? Thrace and me, we’re gonna be leaving this place just as soon as she’s able. I’m figuring a couple of days rest and she’ll be okay to travel. We’ll head south maybe to Alburn or even Calis; I hear it stays warm longer there, better growing season. Anyway, that still leaves a few nights we’ll be here. A few more nights we’ll have to live under this shadow. I’m not gonna lose my little girl the way I lost the others. Now I know an old farmer like me ain’t much good to her swinging a scythe or a pitchfork against that thing, but if it comes to that, it would be good if I knew how to fight proper. That way if it comes calling before we leave, at least there will be a chance. Now, I haven’t got much, but I do have some silver set aside and I was wondering if your offer to teach me how to fight was still good?”
“First, we need to get something straight,” Hadrian told him sternly. “Your daughter already paid us in full to do whatever we could to help you, so you keep your silver for the trip south or I won’t teach you a thing. Agreed?”
Theron hesitated then nodded.
“Good. Well, I suppose we can begin right now if you’re ready?”
“Should we get your swords?” Theron asked.
“That would be a problem considering I put my swords on Millie last night and no one has seen her since, but that shouldn’t matter for now.”
“Should I cut sticks then?” the farmer asked.
“No.”
“What then?”
“How about sitting down and just listening. There’s a lot to learn before you’re ready to swing at anything.”
Theron looked at Hadrian skeptically.
“You want me to teach you, right? If I said I wanted you to teach me to be a great farmer in a few hours what would you say?”
Theron nodded in submission and sat down on the dirt not far from where Hadrian first met Pearl. Hadrian slipped his shirt on and, taking a bucket, turned it over and sat down in front of him.
“As with everything, fighting takes practice. Anything can look easy if you’re watching someone who’s mastered whatever it is they are doing, but what you don’t see is the hours and years of effort that go into perfecting their craft. I am sure you can plow a field in a fraction of the time it would take me for this very reason. Sword fighting is no different. Practice will allow you to react without thought to events, and even to anticipate those events. It becomes a form of foresight, the ability to look into the future and know exactly what your opponent will do even before he does. Without practice, you’ll need to think too much. When fighting a more skilled opponent even a split second of hesitation can get you killed.”
“My opponent is a giant snake with wings,” Theron said.
“And it has killed more than a score of men. Most certainly a more skilled opponent, wouldn’t you say? So practice is paramount. The question is what do you need to practice?”
“Swinging a sword, I should think.”
“True, but that is only a small part of it. If it were merely swinging a sword everyone with two legs and at least one arm would be experts. No, there is much more to it. First, there is concentration, and that means more than just paying attention to the fight. It means not worrying about Thrace or thinking about your family, the past or the future. It means focusing on what you are doing beyond all else. It might sound easy, but it isn’t. Next comes breathing.”
“Breathing?” Theron asked dubiously.