Lorcan's Fireside Story Time

Dragonslayer

Author's note: Lorcan and Cokelli picked up two traveling companions at Heftreeke, a small country in the land of Aefweald, before they set out on their quest. Tinkle and Winkle are garden gnomes; smaller flesh-and-blood versions of the ceramic lawn ornaments we see today. In the Lorcan novel series, they pop up from time to time to get Lorcan and Cokelli out of trouble or to help them when required.

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Rain drummed a violent tattoo on the windows of the inn, drowning out the hiss and crackle of the fire that had already burned low in the small upper room. The smell of damp wood pervaded the air. Lorcan could hear Cokelli's gentle snoring from the sleeping pallet half a man-length away and felt a pang of jealousy that his companion could drop off so easily. He sighed, pulled his blanket up over his shoulder,  and rolled onto his side, facing the fire.

"Can't sleep?" asked Winkle, who was mending a tiny pair of trousers. Firelight formed an orange halo around her face and beard, banishing the grey.

"No," replied Lorcan. "Where is Tinkle?"

"Asleep," she replied. "Behind your pillow. I hate this time of night when the beasts come out. We usually block ourselves into our burrows when we're at home, but we are not at home now."

"But you're sewing," said Lorcan.

"I keep my knife handy," she told him, lifting it up. "It is easier to defend myself with a fire at my back."

"Do you miss it?" asked Lorcan, guilt forming a knot in his chest.

"I do," she replied briskly, "but there's no point in complaining about it. We are stuck with you and Cokelli, for better or worse."

"Can't sleep?" he asked her, sympathy softening his tone.

"I miss home," she complained. "The sights, the smells, even the spiders!"

Lorcan's eyebrows rose in confusion. "The spiders?"

Winkle heaved a dramatic sigh. "They are a lot smaller where we come from!"

A chuckle came unbidden to his mouth, but Lorcan swallowed it before it could escape.

"They're a nuisance to you, but a menace to us. They're not too bad while they lurk in their webs. It's when they come out looking for us that we worry."

"I can imagine," said Lorcan. A change of subject was required. "The sooner we slay the dragon Fierelled, the sooner we can go home. Since I don't know much about them, perhaps you could tell me what you know."

"Well I know what I have overheard during the storytelling at King Adakan's court," Winkle replied, her tiny lips puckered in concentration. I could tell you one of those."

"Please do," said Lorcan, with a smile playing on his lips.

Winkle finished the stitch and bit the thread to cut it, then put her needle and thread away. She folded the trousers neatly, picked up all her things, walked over to Lorcan's sleeping pallet, went around the back of his pillow, and bustled around there for a moment before coming back around to the front. She sat cross-legged on the floor half a man-length from his face and said, "The one I know best is the tale of Glaedeg, the dragon of Seetey.

"In a cave in the mountains of Cumri, Glaedeg dwelt, and from thence issued forth to assail..."

"Excuse me?" asked Lorcan, confusion knitting his eyebrows.

"What?" asked Winkle.

"I barely understood a word of what you just said," Lorcan replied. "I know enough Aefwealding to converse and to trade, but not to discuss ancient history."