Dragon Tamer - Book 1

Chapter 7

The blacksmith was not happy.

He stood in the doorway to his workshop, his large muscled arms folded over his black apron. He glared at Marcie as she walked away, she could feel his dull blue eyes boring into the back of her skull, fuming that she had haggled him out of a dozen arrow heads for an incredible small price. Iron ore was rare in the forest and most of it was brought to them by the traders. The blacksmith divided it into its different uses; nails and building materials arrow heads and other. When ore was low, they used flint, which was common in the forest but they rarely had to resort to that.

She waved over her shoulder at The Blacksmith, which caused him to slam the door so hard that the little pane of glass at the top smashed, she smiled.

She was in a good mood, the prospect of getting away from the villagers in the freedom of the forest filled her with an incredible sense of peace, it had done ever since she was young. Not even the prospect of entering the cave and facing the unknown beast could dampen her spirits.

It was with a sense of purpose that she walked away from the blacksmith, her pack filled with all the provisions she would need, baring the meat that she would catch herself.

The village was very contained, most of the shops and the houses were situated around the main square, the homes became less dense and less closely packed together the further away from the square you went, but all lived within sight of The Great Hall. Marcie and her father were not the only people who ever dared to live almost separate from the village, but they were the only ones who lived so far from it.

The other person was Widow Dafne, otherwise known as The Witch, it was here that Marcie went to next.

It didn't take long to get to her home, but Marcie always got excited when she went, Widow Dafne's house was beautiful.

It sat nestled in the side of the valley wall, almost the same distance from the village itself as Marcie's own home, only not so isolated. All there was for the passer-by to tell it was a house was the large wooden door and small window built directly into the mossy rock. A tiny water fall ran down the face of the rock a little away from the door and this landed in a small well, which became a small stream which ran right across the path of the door and was crossed with the help of round stepping stones, the door was solid oak and had no handle, only a large brass knocker shaped like a large serpent.

Whenever Marcie thought of home, beside her own house, she thought of this door built almost naturally into the rock and of the peaceful sounds of the water trickling by.

She stepped onto the stepping stones and lifted the brass tongue of the snake head, knocking three times as she always did.

The door swung open and she was greeted by a cloud of smoke and a harsh raspy voice.

"Get in, get in and shut the bloody door girl, you'll let the fumes out"

Marcie shut the door quickly and waited a moment for her eyes to get used to the dimly lit, smoky room.

It was surprising how much room there was. She was in a large open area floored with warm stone, with almost nothing in it except a large bed with clean linen sheets which sat in the middle of the room with a chair next to it, a few herbs hung from the White washed walls and ceiling, in which there were small holes cut deep in to the rock which allowed a tiny amount of light to come in from the surface, in the corner a small cauldron was boiling away over a stove, it was from this that the noxious smoke was coming from.

Marcie waved a hand in front of her face and coughed. The smoke had a strange nutty flour to it, it made its way inside her mouth and immediately coated the roof of her mouth, she gagged and tried to breath as little as possible.