A New Story

   This is my first attempt at writing a story that I write completely, beginning to end.  I've written a lot of other stories but have never finished them.  However, I want this story to be different.

     An idea for a story can come from anywhere.  The idea for this story came after listening to the very good song, "Abiola," by Ellis Paul.  I really enjoyed listening to the song and realized that I could write a story similar, though not identical, to it by incorporating bits and pieces from all the other fairy tales and stories I have ever read.  In chapter 9, the story of the rooster was inspired by a similar story found in "The Good Master", by Kate Seredy, which appears to be a native folktale.  

    This story is not perfect and it is not even halfway written.  So, if there seems to be an extraordinary amount of grammatical errors and mixed-up words, don't worry- I'm always rereading and trying to fix them.    My apologies if chapters are mixed up.  If you see any mistakes, comment on them and I'll do my best to make the needed adjustments.  For example, "In chapter 14, theirs is ought to be there is" or "Is Gibbs a good guy or a bad guy?"
    Enjoy this story- I'm trying to make it as good and interesting as I can.

The Very Beginning

     “Your highness, what proof do we have that the dragon exists?  It’s only a legend,” said Cummfrey nervously.

            “You’ve heard the complaints that have started coming into my office.  Sheep are disappearing from the northern country, sheep.  What else would have reason to steal sheep?  A dragon needs food, doesn’t he?  And what about the barns and houses that get burned down every once in a while?  The faster we evacuate the village Plum the faster we can exterminate that scourge of a dragon!” the King replied in anger. 

            The prime minister took a deep breath.  “My king, I quite frankly believe that your scouts are pulling wool over your eyes.  A dragon doesn’t just wake up one day and start rampaging.  It’s got to be something- someone- else that is causing the damage.  No dragon lives up in the Dragon Caverns.  No dragon ever has.  If there were, the scouts would have brought back some proof.  They would’ve found a scale or a footprint at the very least.”

            Cummfrey, who was quite short, went to the map that hung on the stone wall and pointed at the tiny dot marking the spot where Plum was, nestled at the foot of the Clay Mountains and resting besides the Green river, right near the top left of the map.  In the purple v’s marking the Clay Mountains was a spot labeled, “Dragon Caverns’.  The king scowled and returned to his desk. 

            “You know as well as I do that Plum is the smallest town in the poorest region and brings in the fewest taxes.  The only thing worth having from Plum are the sheep and the fruit, which they already bring to you as taxes.  They never cause trouble and they are never late in bringing their taxes.  Why kick them out now?  Anyway, they’ll soon be sending someone with the sheep in time for the fall harvest feast here in the castle.  We can give them notice then, instead of wasting a messenger.”

The king started to look impatient but the prime minister forged on.  “I hope you’ve thought of this: if there is a dragon, we won’t be able to get rid of him without a battle.  Our army is not very large,” continued Cummfrey.  He put down his pen and parchment and left the room, leaving the king to ponder his advice.

            The king turned to his map.  His kingdom was not small, but it was not very large either.  There had to be some way of raising the funds and finding the room for the king’s grand ambitions.  Suddenly he had a brilliant plan.  The people of Plum would beg to leave their town.  Other villages would probably do the same.  There was one way to get his loyal subjects to give him everything he wanted, even if it meant leaving their homes!  He picked up his prime minister’s pen and started to write.

Chapter 1

Abby woke up in the attic she shared with her siblings Mathew, the twins Ryan and Delaney, and the younger twins, Caleb and Rosie.  As the oldest in the family, she had to wake everyone up, send her brothers out to milk the goats, and then get her sisters dressed and started on making the beds.  After that, she could get herself ready for the day and then go downstairs to help make breakfast.

            The loft had a window at one end of the room, a trap door and ladder at the other, and two beds pushed against the walls.  Standing in the aisle in between, Abby yanked the blankets off both beds in one practiced tug.

            “First one downstairs gets warm toast,” Abby yelled.  “Last one down gets to pick up pajamas.”

            “That’s not fair Abby,” groaned Delaney.  “You wake up first and that gives you a head-start.”

            After the initial grumblings, the boys raced downstairs and the girls folded the blankets up.  Abby, as usual, was the last one ready so she picked up all the pajamas and put them in the trunk at the end of the girl’s bed.  The girl’s trunk was for clothes, the boy’s trunk held anything else the children thought worth keeping.  Then Abby went downstairs.

            The crowded downstairs held only the huge fireplace that served as stove and sole source of heat, the kitchen table, a few cupboards and chests, and a door leading to Abby’s parent’s room.  Just then, the fireplace held a small fire and the kitchen table was loaded with plates, cups, and cheese-spread toast.  Everyone sat down to eat and plan the day.

            “I’ll need all the boys to go with me to the hills.  It will soon be time to send our share of the tribute to the king and we want our sheep to be the fattest in Plum,” Abby’s father announced.  “If any of them fall off a cliff or get lost in the caves, I’ll have to send one of you to the castle instead.” 

            “It takes you forever to go to the kingdom with the sheep.  How come you have to give our sheep to the king?  ,” complained Ryan.  “It’s not like the king helped herd them.”

            “The king rules the country and he owns all the land.  We’re just paying him to let us live here and raise the sheep.”

“Send me instead of the sheep! Send me!” squeaked little Caleb, who had not been allowed to leave the yard without his mother.  “I never get to go anywhere.”

             “I don’t think so,” said their father, “I’m going to send you and Rosie to town with Abby.  Her mother tells me that we need a few things from the market and I want to hear the latest news from the capital, even if we are so far away that any news we get is already a few weeks old.”

            Caleb pondered on the wonderfulness of being allowed to go to town while all the other children quickly asked to go to town too.

            “I’m just sending Abby, Caleb, and Rosie.  They can sell the skeins of wool I made and buy what little we need.  I need Delaney here to help bake and your father needs the boys out in the pastures.  Come on, the day has already started and we can’t be left behind,” Abby’s mother said and then stood up to clear the table.

            The girls started doing the dishes after the boys left to bring the sheep out.  While the dishes were being dried, Abby complained, “Mother, the twins will slow me down.  They’ll want to stop and look and touch everything.  What if they run away in the market while I’m selling the yarn?”

            “You know that you’ll stop to look and touch everything too and that the twins are too well behaved to run off.   And if they stay,” and here her mother stopped to make sure the twins were upstairs getting ready.  “How can we bake a birthday cake with two of the most inquisitive snoops in the house?   It’s hard enough when they are already getting old enough to know when it’s their birthday.  I think they’re suspicious about the packages in the chest.  Ryan and Delaney know it’s their birthday so there’s no surprising them, but this may be the last year we can surprise Caleb and Rosie.  Their birthday is in two days you know.”

            Abby looked up in surprise.  “I completely forgot about the twin’s birthday.  How about I just take them with me now, and let you and Delaney get busy?”

            “Oh no, finish your chores.  We’ve got plenty of time.  We only have four birthdays a year and we don’t need to rush and get them over with.  Finish putting everything away and then you can go.  I’ve made you a list of people who want the yarn.  Just tell them to pay me next time they see me.  Be sure to be back before dinner.”

            Abby quickly put the plates and cups in the cupboard and then rushed upstairs to get the twins.  Once they were down the path, Abby pointed out the different birds and flowers to the twins.  The trek into the small village passed quickly. 

            The marketplace was busy with shepherds selling sheep and farmers selling produce.  The trade was mainly between neighbors because most merchants did not think it worthwhile to travel the distance to a small village that likely had nothing that could not be gotten anywhere else.  Abby quickly found the items on her mother’s list and then sat down next to the square’s fountain with the twins to enjoy their lunch of sandwiches.

            “Abby M’Kennan, don’t tell me that your mother sent you to town by yourself with these two young things!” exclaimed the plump jam seller who had come to get some of the wool.  “I hope she hasn’t broken her leg or gotten sick.”

            “No, Mrs. Connuny.  Mama was just extra busy this market day and wanted the twins out from underfoot,” Abby replied.

            “Well, give her my regards.  Tell her I want to meet her next market day.  I have a special color I want some wool dyed.  It’s reddish yellow…”

            Suddenly one of the merchants who had come into town for mutton came out of the town’s only inn, the Lyon inn, surrounded by a small group of men and women.  Mrs. Connuny started to walk over, interested in any gossip.  Abby couldn’t help overhearing from her perch on the fountain.

            “I tell you out of neighborly concern, because your village is closest to the mountains, and therefore in the most danger.  I leave myself in the morning, but I’ll leave knowing I left all of you forewarned.  The king himself is sending out a decree.  I heard it myself, with these two ears, in the fair city of Cavan, when I there trading last week.”

            At this most of the people still in the square gathered around the man.  The people, full of questions, vied for the merchant’s attention.  Even Abby could not help but inch closer, hoping to hear more of the mysterious news that put her small village in danger.  Then, the innkeeper seeing what a large crowd of people had gathered around his inn, invited them all in to sit and talk it out indoors, and, perhaps, get a bite to eat.  At this, Caleb and Rosie began to pull at Abby’s arms.

            “Let’s go in and see what that man has to say!” cried Caleb.  “I couldn’t hear a thing he was saying because of all those grown-ups.”

            Abby looked at the inn and then back at the sun sinking behind the mountain peaks.  She wanted to go into the inn and find out if the merchant was just telling a tale or not but she knew that if she was to get the twins home before dark, they would have to leave immediately. 

            “I guess if it’s really important Mrs. Connuny or one of the other people will come tell us.  We should probably go home now.  Market day is over and you know what mama says: Come late to supper and you get yesterday’s breakfast.”

            “But we already ate that breakfast.  It’s all gone,” Rosie said.

            “That’s exactly what mama means.  If we don’t get there in time, we’ll get nothing.  Let’s go,” Abby said.

            As they trudged out of the market, Mathew’s friend Adin came running up.  “Did you hear the news that the merchant brought?”

            “No,” said Abby.  “The merchant went inside before we could hear it.  We figured the news would spread and we’d hear it eventually.  Did you hear what he said?” 

            “What he said?  He practically exploded trying to keep it in and build suspense, and then he had to shout to be heard above the crowd.  The dragon in the mountains is alive and was seen flying over the forests.  The merchant said it had burned down a whole town to the south of here.”

            Abby looked at the twins, who seemed to be holding their breath at the excitement and fright of this news.  Everyone knew about the dragon that lived in caves of the Clay Mountains, there were hundreds of stories, but no one ever saw it.  “What village did it burn down?”

            “The merchant couldn’t remember.  Maybe it was two towns, maybe just a barn.  Anyway, do you think it’ll go after your father’s sheep, you living so close to the mountains?”

            Abby replied, “We’ve never seen a dragon before and nothing has ever stolen our sheep.  I’ll bet that merchant just made up that story to get a free meal.”

            “Just because you’ve never seen it doesn’t mean it ain’t true.  The merchant said the king would give whoever slayed that dragon a piece of land.  And whoever does it gets to marry his daughter.  But what person would go after a dragon alone!  I’ll bet the king will have to send out a whole army to protect our village from the beast.  You’d better watch out for those twins.  Anyway, I’ll see you next market day.  Tell Mathew to come to my house so I can show him this cool rock I found.  Bye.”

            “Bye,” Abby called as he ran towards the few houses that made up the village.  She was slightly confused by Adin’s news.  The dragon had never done any harm and had never showed itself.  The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like the merchant had made the whole thing up.  Merchants were famous for telling tall tales to get a free meal and some attention.  Any isolated village would be gullible enough to believe anything a city-slick merchant would say.  But, if there was a proclamation, what could it be about and when would the king’s crier come to tell them the news?

            The twins were very tired from walking to the village and back.  The sun set over the mountains as they trudged home.  The twins were put in bed while Abby finished her supper. 

            “Any news in the village?” asked her father.  “I heard that one of the shepherds across the valley is trying to beat my sheep in quality.  Did you see him?”

            Abby was tired, but not too tired to talk.  “I didn’t talk to too many people, just the people I bought mama’s things from and those who wanted wool.  There was a loud merchant who was talking about a big proclamation the king is sending out to all the towns.  He said something about our dragon being dangerous.”

            Her mother came over.  “That dragon up there is just a lot of poppycock.  It’s just a legend; something someone made up to explain why the sheep go missing every once in a while.  There never was a dragon and there never will be one.  That merchant just wanted to sound important.”

            “That’s exactly what I said when I heard it,” called Abby as she went up the ladder. 

Chapter 2

            Three scouts hurried through the hallways and into the castle’s great hall.  The straw-strewn floor and tapestry-adorned walls seemed to dwarf the wooden table set up in front of the fireplace.  A few dogs napped while the king ate his breakfast.  The scouts scurried up to the table and one nervously nudged the king’s shoulder.

            “Your majesty, we have come to report.”

            “Well then, report,” the king cried, jumping at the sudden touch. 

            The tallest scout replied, “Criers were sent to all the largest cities.  The news will soon spread to every corner of the kingdom.”

            The king waved for a serving girl to bring the men some breakfast.  When she had left to get the food, he chuckled and then asked, “You said that criers were sent to every large city.  What about the small towns and villages?  I know I sent criers with the news to them too.”

The third, and shortest, scout spoke up.  “Yes, your highness, but a few of the messengers were traveling alone.  Their costumes are so bright, and then...  You can only assume the dragon couldn’t help but notice them.”

            “Yes,” the king said.  “I knew I couldn’t trust those messengers you sent me; they run off without warning.  Fortunately, news always travels faster when the person carrying it disappears.  Has anyone seen the dragon, by chance?”

            The shortest scout answered, “No, but a barn burned down, and you can guess exactly who was blamed.”

            The king nodded as the serving girl brought the men their food and stepped back until needed again.

            “Good work scouts.  Tell the others that I may need some of you to do an errand for me.  Be in touch and don’t get into trouble.  That barn was an ingenious idea, but you’d better not do anything else without telling me first.  When this is over, I’ll still need a kingdom.”

            The king left and went up to his room to work on an argument that had come up between two of his servants, each claiming the other received an unfair wage.  In the end, he fired them both and hired new ones.  The scouts finished eating and then left in a rush.  The serving maid cleared the table and then went to do dishes.

Chapter 3

            “There’s a town meeting at the inn,” shouted Adin.  Although his family owned the Lyon inn, Adin’s family kept a few sheep.  Since one of the paths to the mountain meadows ran right past Abby’s house, Adin often came so he and Mathew could herd their flocks together.   This time he was simply on an errand to all the houses.  “The whole village is coming to discuss the king’s proclamation that the merchant talked about.  It’s tonight after chore time.  I have to go tell the others.  Bye!”

            As he ran back down the path, Abby’s mother, who had been listening from the front door, called all the kids inside to wash up for lunch.  She wondered how anyone could take a merchant seriously but decided to go to the meeting anyway.  Abby could watch the children while she and her husband met with the others.  That afternoon, around their lunch, she announced her plans to her family. All the kids wanted to go to the meeting but their parents were firm.  This was an adults-only meeting, even if it was only about a fairytale dragon.

            The day went on very slowly for all those to be left at home. 

            “Couldn’t I just go with you?” pleaded Abby.  “Any of the others could easily babysit.  Everyone’s asleep and it’s not even the whole night.”

            “Abby, I told you already.  No one’s going to come because likely nothing will happen.”

            “Mama, the proclamation’s not about a dragon.  How could it be?  I’ll bet it’s about all the robbers or an invading army or a plague.  Maybe the king wants to tell everyone who’s been stealing all the sheep.  Please?”

            Her mother’s reply was short as she walked away to put away laundry.  “No Abby.”

            Abby stewed all afternoon until she met with the other kids in the barn.  “We need to know what’s said at that meeting.  Grown-ups like to leave kids out of all the exciting stuff.”

            Ryan spoke up.  “Nothing exciting has ever happened before except when a sheep goes missing or puppies are born.  What if there was a dragon?  We’d need to know so we could protect ourselves.”

            “We could just ask for a copy of the proclamation,” Delaney exclaimed.  “Mama could bring it home to us and it’d be almost as good as being at the meeting.”

            Caleb spoke up, “No one has a copy of the proclamation to give us.  That’s what the merchant said.”

            Everyone suddenly sat up, realizing what Caleb had said was true. 

“They’ll probably decide to wait until a crier comes, and then forget about it when it doesn’t come,” Abby said.  “Plum’s such a small town I’ll bet the King doesn’t even know about it.  No messenger would come here.”

            After some thought, Mathew replied, “I’m sure a messenger will come eventually.  I could run to Adin’s house and ask him to tell us what the messenger says.  His parents own the inn so he’ll have to be at the meeting and be the first one to know when the crier arrives.  I’ll get started now so I can be back soon.”

            As he started to walk away, Abby had a thought. Being at the meeting would be way better than waiting indefinitely for news.  She had promised her brother and his friend that she would show them how to make shadow puppets.  If she could get her mother to let them go to the inn for the afternoon, they could eat dinner there, wait for the meeting to be over, and walk home with their parents.  It was a perfect plan.  She called Mathew back and told everyone her plan.  Delaney complained about having to watch the kids until Abby promised to do all of her chores the next day.  The only thing Abby had to do was convince her mother to let them go.

            Abby’s mother, to say the least, was skeptical of Abby’s plan.  She knew the real reason Abby wanted to go to the inn was not to teach the boys how to make shadow puppets.  However, she relented because the children had been good that day and what harm could a meeting about an imaginary dragon do?

            Mathew and Abby set out for the inn.  They hoped Adin’s mother, who was very busy, would allow them to stay. 

            Adin’s mother decided to let them stay on one condition.  Because of the meeting, Adin’s parents would be very busy cooking and they needed the children to serve the villagers that would come to the meeting.  Abby and Mathew promised to ask their parents as soon as they arrived and went upstairs to practice shadow puppets in the dusty, dark attic.  That afternoon passed by quickly and soon villagers started arriving.  Some ordered dinner while others just sat down to talk.  When Abby and Mathew’s parents came, they hurriedly asked them to allow them to serve.  Abby’s mother looked at Adin’s mother, rushing around to serve guests and wipe down tables, and nodded.  Then they went over to talk with their neighbors about the weather and their flocks.   Near sunset, the inn was full and the innkeeper stood on a bench.

            He boomed, “I think everyone knows why we called everyone together tonight.”

            There was a murmur of agreement.  Abby and Mathew stopped wiping down tables.

            The innkeeper continued, “Last night a merchant came and told us about our dragon.  As far as I know, there is no dragon.  But the merchant did talk about a proclamation.  Somehow a crier didn’t make it to the village.  We should know what it says.  Anyone have any ideas?”

            “Someone ought to go get it!” Adin exclaimed.  “We could get a copy from Cavan.  The merchant said they got the proclamation.”

            Adin quickly turned back to the fire he was stoking when his mother gave him a stern glance.  The same look sent Abby and Mathew back to filling cups and clearing plates. 

            “That’s a good idea,” said someone.  Everyone agreed and the innkeeper, now on the ground, said, “Cavan is a week’s journey by horseback from here.  So that would be a two week journey, longer if the person walks.  I know there are few horses in this village, but we can’t send the messenger out on a sheep.  The messenger can take my horse.  It’s a good one and can carry the food that would be needed.  Who’ll volunteer?”

            Suddenly everyone seemed to remember that they were very busy herding sheep, caring for children, or had to work in their shops.  The innkeeper looked around.  No one would meet his eye.  Abby looked around, wondering why everyone would want to miss out on an adventure.  She’d go in a heartbeat.  She looked at her parents, who seemed to be talking to each other.  If Delaney promised to do her chores and the boys took her turns watching the sheep, she could go and no one would miss her.  Besides, it would be good practice for when she would have to take the sheep to the castle someday.  She began to inch towards her parents.

            Her father raised his hand to get everyone’s attention.  “I know we’re all busy, getting our sheep and wares ready to send to the king.  I know I couldn’t leave myself but I know one person in my family who would be willing to go, and wouldn’t put such a strain on your horse.”

            Abby looked at her father, slightly shocked.  Could her mother want to go retrieve the proclamation?  The innkeeper seemed to have the same idea. 

“If you don’t go yourself, who is it that will go from your family?  Surely you are not sending your wife?”

            Abby’s mother nodded in agreement.  Just let anyone try removing her from her home.

            Abby was by now at her parent’s table.  “I can go,” she said.

            “No fair!” exclaimed Matthew and Adin.  “How come she gets to go?”

            “Because she is both old enough to make the trip and young enough not to be needed so much on the farm.  She also has a very convincing father,” Abby’s mother sighed.  “I guess that this would be for the best as no one else can be spared.  The road to Cavan runs past a relative’s farm and she can sleep there on the way.”

            Abby nearly jumped up and down in excitement. 

            “She’ll have a lot of extra chores when she gets back, to make up for her absence,” her mother continued.

            Abby stopped jumping.

            “Then it’s decided.  I’ll pack up my horse tomorrow morning and you can send her off whenever you’re ready.”

Everyone started to leave, relieved that the proclamation would come to the town but they themselves would not have to get it.  Some of the women stayed to help Adin’s mother clean the dishes.  Abby’s parents stayed to talk over the details with Adin’s father.

            Abby found Mathew and Adin sulking in the backroom.  They would be the ones left behind doing the extra chores. Abby could see that, but she was too excited to feel sorry for them.  After a “cheer up!” she went to find her parents.  They were looking at an old map of the kingdom. 

            “The road goes south to the fork, where our road meets up with the main road that leads to the castle. The main road leads right through Cavan; you couldn’t miss it.  There’s not much but some forest and plains,” the innkeeper was saying.  “There are signposts every few miles so she won’t get lost and there are few forks or side roads so she won’t get lost.”

            “And she’s so small, the dragon won’t capture her and fry her,” exclaimed Mathew, coming up behind them. 

            “Hey,” Abby exclaimed, “Maybe you can come too.  Think we’ll attract the dragon’s attention then?”

            “No, he’ll stay right here and so will you if you don’t study this map better.  You can’t take it with you,” their father said.

            Abby looked at the map, tracing the road with her finger.  It didn’t look too long.  The mapmaker had painted all the rivers, mountains, forests, plains, villages, cities, and roads on the map. The road, hardly more than a path, led out from Plum and headed south.  It met with the main road after a few miles, and the main road led southwest.  She followed the main road with her finger, past Cavan, over the Green river, past towns large and small, all the way to the castle at the bottom of the map.  Then she went back to the path she would have to follow to get the proclamation. “This will be easy,” she thought to herself.

            “Good night,” Adin’s mother said as the families parted in front of the inn.  “See you in the morning.”

         

Chapter 4

            The next morning, Abby was awoken before dawn.  “Get up, Abby, and start packing your clothes in this sack.  I’ve got breakfast for you when you’re done.”

            Abby woke up feeling slightly fuzzy and confused.  Then she remembered- she was going to Cavan!  Hurriedly she got dressed and braided her hair.  She found her knapsack and stuffed her comb, her pocket knife, and her flint into it.  Then she slid down the ladder, nearly knocking over her mother.

            “I see someone is in a hurry to get somewhere,” exclaimed her mother.  “Go wash your face and sit down and eat.  You’ve got a long trip ahead of you.  No need to hurry.”

            Abby sat down at the table and began to eat the biscuits and jam her mother set before her.  She noticed her mother riffling through the bag before dumping everything on the table. 

            “What are you doing?” she asked in dismay. 

            Her mother gave her a disappointed look.  “What will your uncle think of me if you showed up on his doorstep with this bag?  You wouldn’t make it halfway to Cavan.”

            Abby was distressed- had her mother decided to make her stay home?  Fortunately, her mother simply turned to the trunk by the wall and began to open it.  “At least I wouldn’t have to worry about the robbers bothering you- you wouldn’t have brought anything worth taking.”

            She lifted out an old quilt that was small and faded but warm and sturdy enough to serve as a bed on the road.  Then she took out a few handkerchiefs, extra pairs of socks, and another bag.  “For food,” she explained.  “I’ll fill it up while you go back upstairs and get some clothes.  Toss them down to me and say good bye to your siblings.”

            When Abby came back down, her bag was neatly packed and a sack of hard biscuits, jerked meat, and dried fruit sat beside it.  Her father had come inside from checking on the sheep.  He handed her a map, nearly the same as the one the innkeeper had.  He must have kept it somewhere where the children couldn’t find it and rip it.  “Keep it safe and you won’t get lost.”  Then he handed her a bottle to fill up when she came to streams.

Her brothers and sisters, awoken by the commotion, came stumbling down the ladder.  Matthew had grumpily told them the news the night before and they were all excited to see Abby off.

            “Bye Abby,” said Rosie sleepily.

            “Happy birthday, Rosie,” replied Abby, picking her up for one last good-bye hug.  “I’ll be back soon and you can tell me what presents you and Caleb got.”

            “Ok,” she replied sleepily.

            Then Abby’s parents got ready to take her to the inn.  When they finally set out, the sun was peeking over the mountains.  Birds sung and the air was cool.  All too soon, the Lyon inn was in front of them.

            In front of the inn, a brown horse was tied to a post.  On its saddle hung a few more bags, probably for food, and a long, round, metal tin.  “For the proclamation to go inside so it doesn’t get wet,” explained the innkeeper.  “No reason for you to make the whole trip and end up with nothing to show for it if it rains.”

            Abby took her map out of her pack and rolled it into the tin.  The map could be safe too.

            Abby was excited to set off until she realized that she’d actually have to leave- for a long time.  She hugged her parents and then hoisted herself onto the horse.

            “Her name is Apple and she’s pretty old.  She won’t win any races, but she’s calm and sure.  Have fun,” the innkeeper said as Abby settled the bags around her.

            Her father said, “Stay on the road.  You should reach your uncle’s farm by tomorrow.  He can give you directions from there.  If you get lost, let Apple lead the way.  She’ll bring you home.”

            Her mother called out, “Be polite to your uncle and everyone you meet.  When you get to Cavan, go directly to the town’s fountain.  The proclamation should be hanging up there and there’s sure to be someone hanging around who can tell you where to get a copy.  Don’t talk to strangers!”

            She realized what she had said and laughed, “Ok; only talk to nice-looking strangers, but be polite to everyone.  Come back as soon as you can.”

            Abby guided Apple to the dusty road.  She waved back to her parents.  “I’ll be back soon with the proclamation!”

Chapter 5

            For the past few months, Cummfrey was almost always in a bad mood whenever he came out of a meeting with the king.  The king preferred discussing horses with foreign ambassadors to listening to the plights of his people.  He hadn’t met with a commoner or made an important decision in years.  Instead, he would send Cummfrey out to gather information and hear the people and then, after hearing the report, tell Cummfrey what to do.  Sometimes the king would even ask Cummfrey for advice or tell him to take care of it however he thought best.  He seemed satisfied as long as Cummfrey brought in enough taxes.  The problem was that lately the king seemed to know of problems before Cummfrey, and would now call Cummfrey and order him to do this or that- no discussing, no advising, no choice.

            As usual, Cummfrey had been invited into the king’s chamber, ordered around, and sent back out.  He didn’t mind obeying the king-usually- but the king could be more polite.  “Go tell the cook to make a feast; I have some guests I want to entertain.   And tell the housekeeper to make up the spare rooms in the eastern wing of the castle.  Then take this notice to the market place.  I need the whole place cleared out and cleaned up for a tournament I want to hold next week in honor of our guests.”

            “But, your majesty, couldn’t you have given us a fair warning?  Cook is already busy as it is and we can’t possible tell everyone to leave the marketplace.  Where will all the stalls go?  Where will the herds of cattle and flocks of sheep go?”

            “Good bye, Cummfrey.  I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

            Cummfrey left in a huff, trying to figure out why the king couldn’t use the old tournament area and who the king would want to entertain.

            He trudged all the way down to the kitchens and was pleased to see that the cook was just as displeased as he was with the king’s abrupt orders.  The housekeeper, too, was in the kitchen and received the news with little enthusiasm. 

            “Doesn’t that king know that it takes hours to cook a pig?  Not to mention all the breads, and pies, and vegetables that has to be cooked too.  If he weren’t the king I’d send up some cold oatmeal because that’s about all I can make in the time he’s given us to give him a feast,” Cook exclaimed, taking out her mixing bowl and calling all the kitchen staff.  She started to send a few of the women to get vegetables from the market but Cummfrey told her not to bother.

            “There won’t be a market today, and not one tomorrow or the next.  The king wants the market place cleared for a tournament and it could be some time before the farmers find a new place big enough to meet.”

            The servants looked at him in shock as he headed back upstairs.  He was not looking forward to telling all the townspeople that their marketplace was to be cleared until further notice.  If the servants were shocked at the news, the farmers and merchants would probably be angry.  They were.

            “I came here from the other end of the kingdom to sell my cattle.  How can I do that without a marketplace?” asked one distressed farmer.

            “The vegetables have to be sold or they’ll rot!” exclaimed another.

            “What’s wrong with the arena where they hold all the other tournaments?  If the king was tired of it, he should’ve built a new one in his own courtyard, not ours,” complained another townsperson.

            “Good people,” Cummfrey tried to say above the outburst, “The king only told me what I was supposed to do and I am only telling you what you are supposed to do.  Move your stalls and clean up the streets and everything will turn out fine.  Here’s what you should do: tomorrow move the stalls to the old tournament arena- it’s open dirt and big enough for everyone.  I’ll talk to the king about this tonight and see if I can change his mind.”

            The grumbling continued as Cummfrey made his way back to the castle.  That night, all the king would tell him was “the people must listen to their king.  I am the king.” 

            Cummfrey was no happier when he saw three scouts come out of the king’s chamber.  Although most people in the kingdom did not wear hats, the scouts did.  The scouts were not only wearing hats as they came out of the king’s chamber, they were laughing.  Cummfrey couldn’t help but feel jealous.  He had been unofficially running the kingdom for the king for years and he received no gratitude.  These guys came and after a few weeks of doing nothing but sitting around and eating, were the king’s right hand men.  As the three scouts scurried down the hall, Cummfrey followed them suspiciously.  As they turned the corner, their laughter stopped and they grew serious.

            “The fall festival is in a month.  The news should’ve spread by then.  Folks will be coming from all over the kingdom.  That’s when the king ought to make the big announcement.  What do you think Crooks?” the middle sized scout, Larkin, said to Crooks, the shortest scout.

            “If news travels faster, then people could start running here for protection from the dragon before the festival,” the shortest scout said.  “Or, the opposite might happen.”

            “What do you mean, ‘the opposite might happen’?” questioned Gibbs, the tallest scout in the group. 

              “What I’m saying,” and here Crooks paused to look around as Cummfrey scurried behind a corner, “Is that folks might get nosey and start looking for the loot themselves, dragon or no dragon.”

            “There is no dragon in the cave,” erupted Larkin, who was immediately shushed by the other two.  “And no loot,” he continued more cautiously.

            Gibbs looked down at Larkin.  “The king’s proclamation says there is and that’s enough to convince anybody.  If the king says there’s a dangerous dragon, then as much as the people are concerned, there’s a dragon.  No one will dare to go look for themselves.”

            “And it’s up to us to make sure it stays that way,” Crooks announced as they walked out the castle gate.  “We ride out tonight and report to the chief.  This plan should go off without a hitch.”

            The three scouts walked through the gate, past angry commoners with no place to buy or sell food.  Seeing Cummfrey, the people gathered around him, blocking his view of the three scouts and filling his ears with the buzz of discontent.  

Chapter 6

            Abby was soon saddle-sore from riding Apple.  When she stopped that afternoon for lunch under a tree, she could hardly walk.  She stretched as she pulled a rope out of her bag to tie Apple to the tree where she could graze in the shade.  Once they were both full, Abby climbed back onto Apple. 

            The countryside they traveled through was hilly meadows dotted with clumps of ancient oak trees.  There not being enough rain for crops, there were hardly any farms or people.  The dusty road wound up and down, broken only by the occasional pebble-strewn stream.

            As evening approached, Abby started looking for places where she could bed down for the night.  She noticed a stand of oaks near the path and rode up to it.  A stream had carved out its own channel through the dirt and tree roots and the tree branches formed a roof overhead.  Abby could tell from the circle of blackened rocks that other travelers had stopped here too.  She got off Apple and picketed her by the stream.  Then she unpacked her bedroll and the sack of food her mother had sent.  Then she took a drink from the stream and filled her canteen.  She neatened the fire pit and began to gather sticks.  She found a small pile of logs leftover from another camper’s visit and pulled two toward the fire pit.  At first, her attempts to start a fire were fruitless.  At home, it was her mother who had always started the fires in the morning and her father who banked it in the evening.  After a multiple attempts, a spark came out of her flint and stone and lit the small pile of grass she had put beneath the teepee of sticks. 

            “Horses are lucky they have a warm coat and can eat grass,” Abby exclaimed to Apple as she blew on the spark to coax it into a flame.  Once it caught, she carefully put more sticks on it and finally pushed the log against the flames.  With luck, it would catch and then burn gently all night. 

            Once her bedroll was laid out and Apple standing contentedly nearby, Abby put some jerked meat and dried apples on a stick and held them over the fire.  When they were gone Abby sat against the remaining log.  The sun was setting and lightning bugs were coming out.

            “It’s kind of lonely without Mathew, Ryan, Delaney, Caleb, and Rosie.  I’ll bet they had stew for dinner and are all finished with the dishes.  I wonder how their birthday was.  They won’t be able to save any pie for me- it won’t last that long.” She sighed.

            A lightning bug landed on her pillow and she held it for a moment to watch it blink on and off.  The stars came out and Apple neighed quietly.

            The next morning Abby woke up early.  Beyond the trees she could see a mist floating over the hills of grass.

            “It’s cold in the mornings,” she said groggily.  “If the ground weren’t so hard, I wouldn’t get up.” 

            Apple neighed in agreement as Abby got up and rolled up her blankets.  Then she went over to the fire and poked it with her stick.  A few coals still glowed so she scooped up dirt and covered the entire pile of charred sticks and coals.  After more jerked meat and dried fruit, she saddled up Apple and adjusted all her packs.  

Chapter 7

The grassy meadows had become orchards of apples and plums, loaded with unripe fruit.  The neat rows of trees were broken only by the occasional well or pile of crates.  A fence ran along the road and Abby began to wonder how big her uncle’s farm really was.  Could all of this be his or had all the people around agreed to share the trees and water?

It was nearing sunset when Abby reached a gate in the wooden fence. Above it was a sign: Delahony Farms.  She took out her map and traced her finger over the road.  If the map was correct, Delahony was a small town just off the main road.  Perhaps her uncle had named his orchard after the town.  If not, she could ask whoever owned the farm for directions and continue on her way.

She got off Apple and opened the gate.  As she led Apple through and then closed the gate, she looked around.  The road went straight through the rows and then turned out of sight.  She decided to walk- Apple must be tired of carrying her and she was tired of riding on Apple.

After a few minutes the road emerged out of the orchards and into a dirt courtyard.  In the middle was a well and around the well were buildings. She could pick out the big wooden house, the barn, the tool shop, and other buildings probably used to store the fruit.  Everything looked large and strong and neat.  Everything also smelled like apples.  

Tugging Apple away from a tempting tree, Abby tied the horse’s reigns to a fence post far away from any trees and walked up to the house’s door.  Light spilled out of its windows, inviting Abby in.  When she knocked, she could hear many feet scrambling within to get to the door.

The first thing she saw when the door opened was a big, furry brown dog, pushing itself against the door before rushing up to her, its pink tail dripping slobber.

“Get off, get off!” cried a woman, pulling on the dog’s collar and pushing him away from the door.  “I’m sorry m’ dear, but Jeffrey, he just loves people and beats all of us to the door.  There, that’s better,” she said as Jeffrey rushed out the door and stood at Abby’s side, licking her fingers and then racing around the courtyard.  “Now, let me guess who our visitor is- we don’t get many!”

“No, no,” said a man from within, “you must invite her in and then ask her name.  That’s the thing to do, Monica.”

“Yes sir, Cay,” laughed the women, apparently Monica.  “Come in m’ dear and we’ll get properly introduced.  Come, Jeffrey, you big dog, and stop slobbering on our guest!”

Abby was pulled into the house by the cheerful woman and then stood on the door mat.  The names Monica and Cay sounded familiar to her.  “Aunt Monica?”

“Why, yes, I am Aunt Monica,” smiled the woman.  “Who am I aunt too?”

Abby relaxed.  The man must be her Uncle Cay and this must be her Aunt Monica.  She hadn’t seen them in years but her parents talked about them often.  “I’m Abby, Carl and Abigail’s daughter, from Plum.”

That was as far as she got because Aunt Monica and Uncle Cay wrapped her up in hugs.  “My dear, it’s wonderful to see you.  How did you get here?  Are the others coming up behind you?” Uncle Cay exclaimed.  “The last time we saw you, you were a little girl knee high.” 

“Actually, I came by myself on Apple... I should probably go get her and find a place for her to sleep for the night,” Abby replied.

They went out and Abby introduced her relatives to Apple.  Jeffrey, much to Apple’s dismay, introduced himself to her by sniffing all around until the two gradually became friends.  Apple was put in the stable with the farm’s two draft horses and one riding horse.  She seemed very pleased to find himself in a warm building with plenty of hay.

While Apple ate her dinner, Abby was inside watching her Aunt Monica make dinner.  The kitchen was big and warm from the stove.  The stone floor was swept clean and the wooden cupboards and big farm table polished brightly.  The threesome sat down to dinner.  Abby though the whole house seemed too big for the older couple but she didn’t say anything.  They were very excited to have a visitor, especially one who could tell them all about their family whom they didn’t get to see often.  Abby was glad to have a roof over her head again and a plate of food in front of her.  “I didn’t expect your orchards to be so big,” Abby exclaimed. 

            “Yes, we have grown over the years.  A few other families and we decided to combine the orchards into one big farm.  It saves work that way.”

“So there are other people here?  My map says there’s a town nearby named Delahony.  Is your farm named after the town?”  Abby asked.

“You’re standing in Delahony and the town was named after us, the Delahony’s.  There’s not much left of the town center, just our house and a few barns and sheds.  The other families live on houses around here.  What brings you to Delahony farms?” her uncle asked.

            “Well, a merchant came to Plum and said that the king had sent out a proclamation to all the towns.  We didn’t get one so we decided I ought to go and get a copy of it for everyone.  Tomorrow I’ll go on to Cavan and see if anyone there can give me a copy of that proclamation.  Have you heard of the proclamation?”

“No,” Uncle Cay answered.  “The crier skipped Delahony, just like he did Plum.  We get most of our trade from other little towns, down the road and those farther back in the forest.  If any crier reached any town within riding distance, we would’ve heard it.  Likely the king doesn’t even know we exist.  And if he does, he probably figures that merchants from Cavan will spread the word.”

“And that’s exactly what happened,” continued Aunt Monica.  “We little towns get skipped over quite a bit.  Now, tell us how your family is doing.”

            “Well, it was Rosie and Caleb’s birthday yesterday.  The sheep’s wool is heavy.  Father is thinking about bringing some of us to help him bring in the sheep for taxes.  Each year there are more taxes but, fortunately, each year the sheep have more lambs.  Maybe we can all visit on the way back from the castle.  Where are the cousins?”

            Uncle Cay answered Abby’s question.  “This time of the year, there’s not much work.  We usually hire seasonal workers, to do the pruning and picking, and then we can take care of the orchards the rest of the time by ourselves.  Kieran and Katy went to Castletown.  I never thought I’d see the day my kids would leave the farm.  Katy found work in the castle’s kitchen and Kieran managed to become a crier for the king.  If you ever need to know something, Kieran will know.”

            Aunt Monica laughed.  “Yes, because Katy tells him.  I tell you, Abby, the kitchens may be below the castle but those who work in it know everything that happens above them.” 

            Abby wondered what it would be like to work in the big castle or be able to travel from town to town on a swift horse, spreading important news.  “Maybe we can see them when we bring in this year’s taxes at the fall festival.  We can stop here on the way and give them any letters you want sent to them.”

            Aunt Monica nodded.  “That’d be nice, dear.  I worry about them sometimes.  Now, it’s time for bed for all.  Abby, you’ve got a full day of riding ahead of you.”

Chapter 8

            After saddling up, Abby rode off.  She had two more days and nights of riding before she saw Cavan’s strong stone walls.  Slowly she worked out a routine of riding, resting for the noon meal, and then traveling before setting up that night’s camp.  The closer she got to the city, the more people she passed on the ever-widening road.  Families and farmers brought their produce on old wooden wagons pulled by tired horses.  Merchants traveled in brightly painted wagons, often with many wagons traveling together for safety and a few horsemen around to guard the wares.  Abby even saw a horsemen dressed in the colorful costume of a crier.  She urged Apple to hurry.  Apple did not like being hurried but Abby was in too much of a hurry herself to care.  Soon she would be in Cavan.     

            A man driving a wagon full of children and chickens noticed her prodding Apple into a quicker walk.  “Are you in a hurry, youngin’?  There ain’t much afore you but stone buildings, loud animals, and even louder people.  No use rushin’ around.”

            Abby reddened at being caught rushing.  Everyone else seemed in no hurry: that city would still be there no matter how slow they went.  She pulled up to the wagon, glad to have the company of a family.  Traveling alone could be very lonely.  “I just can’t wait to get to Cavan.  I’ll bet some of your passengers are eager too.”

            The woman besides the wagon’s driver smiled.  “They can’t wait to visit our folks and be rid of these noisy chicks.  They’re dying to be rid of this wagon so they can stretch their legs.”

            Abby nodded.  “Apple, my horse, would love to be rid of me, too.  And to tell the truth, I would love to be able to travel on my legs again without an extra four feet beneath me.”

            The children giggled and ducked behind the wooden crates holding the chickens.  The chickens squawked.  Abby smiled.  This family knew where they were going.  Perhaps they could tell her where she would find the town’s fountain and where she could find lodging for that night, before she went home again.  That was the scary part of the trip: not knowing where or what she was going to do. 

            “I’m Abby, by the way.  From Plum, in the Clay Mountains,” she said.

            “It’s good to meet you, Abby.  You’ve come a far distance.  I be head of the Lawson family.  My name is Lack, and this is my wife, Lora.  The children be Liam, Lizbeth, and Lorrie.  Our baby is Lack, though we call him Junior.  Do you travel to visit your folks or do you have wares to sell in your saddlebags?”

            “Actually, I came to get a copy of the King’s proclamation.  Have you heard of it?”

            Lack gave his wife a sad look.  “Aye, I’ve heard of that proclamation.  It’s the one about the Clay Mountain dragon emerging from his caverns and flying to burn and steal that you’ll be looking for.  Why would you come all the way for a piece of paper?”

            Abby noticed that the children grew silent at the mention of a dragon.  Perhaps the rest of the kingdom did not tell the legends of the dragon she had grown up with in Plum, told to the young children around the fire after supper.  “My village is close to the caverns and we thought it might be important to know what the king had to say about a dragon.  No one believed it was actually about the dragon but we wanted to make sure.”

            Lack seemed about to say something more but the road had gradually become crowded until it took all of Lack’s strength to control his horses and Abby noticed Apple become nervous at the closeness of the other animals.  Urging Apple to stay with the Lawson family’s cart, Abby narrowly missed being run over by a much larger wagon.  She looked ahead and saw the massive gate framed by stone walls.  Each driver suddenly forgot about being unhurried and started to push and yell to get in first.  The smaller carts, like the Lawson’s, generally gave the big caravans plenty of room.  Guards motioned carts through with lazy waves.  Abby rode up to the gates, gazing up at the massive masonry.  Suddenly she saw the familiar cart pass in front of a larger wagon and urged Apple to catch up.  Inside the walls, the crowd thinned as each person found the road to their destination, most heading to the market.  Apple decided that if everyone else was slowing down, she would too, much to Abby’s dismay.

            The Lawson’s cart was headed towards the large market.  Abby decided that the merchant were right; Cavan’s markets were the biggest in the kingdom.  Each section was dedicated to a different product: fruit, vegetables, cows, and sheep, not to mention the products like cloth and pottery that were not food.  Even the poultry keepers had their own section.  The Lawson’s cart was just pulling up into this section as Abby rode up on Apple.  Lora turned at Apple’s disgusted whinny and smiled.  “I’d wondered where you’d gotten too, Abby.  A city like this is no place for a girl from Plum.  You should stay with us.”

            “Could I?” Abby asked gratefully, and then stopped when she realized she shouldn’t impose herself onto the family.  Her mother had warned her against doing this sort of thing.  “But, maybe I shouldn’t.  I don’t want to bother you.”

            Lack nodded to Lora and Lora continued.  “We can’t let you lose in Cavan.  It’s a big city and you are a small girl.  Besides, once we set up our stall I can send one of the kids to show you where to find the town’s fountain is.  That’s the likeliest place for the proclamation, useless as it may be, to be found.  Then, you can stay with us till you go home.”

            Abby was undecided.  She needed help.  Looking around at the throngs of people, at the numerous streets and side streets, she knew it would be harder to ask for directions and aid from a stranger than from this friendly family.  “Thank you so much.  To tell the truth, I was not sure what I was going to do after I found the proclamation.  I can help with the stand, if you show me what to do.”

            “That’d be good, Abby.  Tie your horse to the wagon and then we’ll get everything settled.”

            The family climbed down from their cart.  Lack began stacking the chicken’s crates on the ground while Lora gathered her children and spread out a blanket for them to sit on.  Abby went to the back of the cart and saw a few bales of hay.  “Toss a bale for the horses, Abby, for they’ll be hungry after their walk,” Lack told her.

            Soon the horses were contentedly chewing and the younger children were napping.  Abby marveled that they could sit so peacefully in the little square formed by the cart and crates.  If there had been no market, the stone wall-enclosed space would have seemed enormous.  As it was, filled with carts, animals, stalls, and people, the market was loud, dusty, and smelly.  In front of the stalls, people streamed past with bags and baskets.  Chickens squawked, cows mooed, and wagon wheels creaked.  Above the ruckus came the cry of people hawking their wares.  Every once in a while a person would separate themselves from the stream of people to look at Lack’s chickens.

            Abby watched as a woman carrying many baskets sidled up and began glaring at the chickens.  “How much do the stew-chickens cost?”

            “Well, my good woman.  These are the plumpest stew chickens in the market.   You can see for yourself the excellent quality.  Five coins apiece.”

            She scowled.  “You must be crazy!  I pay only one coin a chicken, unless it’s skinny.  Then I don’t buy it.”

            “I see we have a smart buyer.  I need the money from those chickens, but I’ll give you a deal.  Three coins apiece,” Lack countered.

            “Bah.  Those chickens are probably all feathers and no meat.  I won’t buy them for three coins apiece.  Besides, haven’t you heard the king’s new edict?  More taxes, the third rise this year.  Soon I won’t even be able to buy chickens.  It’ll just be potatoes for me and the boarders.  I hear they’re even thinking of adding a tax on the market.  You pay before they let you set up a stall.”

            “There’s been another raise?  And a new market-tax?” Lack asked, momentarily distracted.  “Soon I won’t be able to sell chickens then.  I’ll have to give them all to the king.  I wonder what’s up with the king.  We never heard from him before and now its taxes and edicts and evictions.  He ought to come live with us for a while, to learn what it feels like to live under his own rule.  I’ll give you the chickens for two coins apiece, and a bargain at that.”

            “I’ll take three chickens,” the lady said, counting coins into Lack’s hand.  “What a joke it’d be to see the high-and-mighty king sit in a wooden stool by a smoky fire with a bowl of cold potatoes.  I’d give that king a taste of his own medicine.  Hah!” 

            With that, she stuffed the protesting chickens into one of her baskets and shuffled off.  Abby noticed that over every chicken and egg both Lack and the customer haggled as if Lack asked a fortune and the other offered a penny.  All anyone talked of was the price of the product, the weather and coming harvest, the new taxes, and the king’s unfairness.  Suddenly, Abby wondered if this affected her father.  How would he know how many sheep to bring to the castle if the taxes kept changing?  Abby’s mother had always told her that taxes were the king’s way of taking care of the kingdom, to keep an army for protection and provide messengers to spread important news.  But how could a king, who lived in a castle, decide how many taxes were too much?  Abby decided that she was very happy that she didn’t have to decide the answers to the grown up’s questions.  Her job was to find the proclamation.

            Lora jerked Abby away from her thoughts.  “Abby, can you watch the children?  Market day is nearly over and we need to buy some things before the stalls close.  If anyone comes by, they can have chickens at two coins apiece and a dozen eggs for one coin, but I don’t expect anyone.  We’ll be back with dinner in a little bit.  Don’t let any of the children out of this square.”

            With that, she put Junior into Abby’s arms and hung a basket on her own now vacant arm.  She and Lack walked down the lane looking at the other stalls.  Abby looked at the little baby sitting in her arms and at Liam, Lizbeth, and Lorrie, who looked back at her.

            “I think I heard my mom calling me,” Liam said, inching towards the opening between the crates.

            “Me too,” piped up Lorrie.

            Abby looked up from Junior.  “Oh no you don’t!  If you go anywhere, you won’t be here when your mother returns with dinner.”

Liam sulkily returned to his seat on the blanket.  He thought that selling chickens was a dull business.  Being out and about the stalls was much more exciting.

            “I bet you guys are cooped up from sitting here all day.  Let’s climb in the wagon where we can see everything,” Abby said, taking Lorrie’s hand in her own.  Liam clambered into the wagon and Lizbeth dutifully began to shake the cloth to spread out on the wagon’s bed. 

            “I want my mommy,” Lorrie whimpered as Abby hoisted her up.  Liam took her in his lap and looked at Abby for further instructions. 

            Finding she could not climb into the cart and hold Junior at the same time, Abby stood by a wheel.  If she had learned anything from having younger siblings, it was that they got bored very easy, and a bored child is much more likely to make a mess, or get lost, or get her in trouble.  “How ‘bout we prop some sticks against the cart’s sides and make a tent with the blanket?  We can spy on all the other stall keepers and watch so that no one takes our chickens.  We have to keep our fort safe!”

            Liam jumped out of the cart.  This was much more to his liking.  He handed Lizbeth some of the loose boards his father kept for mending broken crates.  Leaning against the cart’s walls in each corner, they held up the blanket with just enough room for the children to sit up underneath.  They crawled back in and began to look at the suddenly suspicious-looking people streaming past them.

            “Look at that man over there,” Liam whispered. “He’s all hunched over.  He’s definitely suspicious.  I’ll bet he stole that goose and doesn’t want it to run back to its owner.”

            The girls turned to look at the large man carrying a goose. 

            “It’s just a goose,” Lizbeth replied, whispering.

            “It’s no ordinary goose.  I’ll bet it’s the golden goose.  He stole it from a kingdom beyond the mountains and is bringing it to the king.  He has to watch out so that spies from the other kingdom can’t take the goose back.”

            They watched the goose honk at passerby and the man shushed it and then stopped to talk to another person.  Then the two walked away.

            The children settled back against the cart’s walls.  “I’m hungry and I miss Mommy,” Lorrie whimpered.

            “She’ll be back soon, Lorrie.  I can tell you a story while you wait.  I know one that my father told me when I was little.  It starts in the Dragon Caverns,” Abby started.

            “Is there a dragon in the story?” Lorrie asked.

            “Of course,” Abby replied.  “Long ago this dragon flew…”

            “No!” shouted Lorrie.  “Dragons are scary!  They burned down Daddy’s barn and made him mad.”  Then she sat in Liam’s lap, her trust in Abby diminishing with the mention of the dragon.

            Abby looked up in surprise.  “Your barn got burned down by the dragon?”

            Liam hugged Lorrie and then looked at Abby and said stubbornly, “The barn must’ve burned down by accident, a broken lantern or something.  There are no dragons, my father said so.”

            “That’s ok.  I live right next to the Dragon Caverns and I’ve never seen the dragon, I just like the stories.  But I know lots of other stories without dragons.”

            A chicken squawked and Abby smiled.  “I know a story about a rooster.  Want to hear that one?”

            Lorrie smiled a little smile.  “How can a story be about a rooster?”

            “This one is.  It’s called the Rooster’s Diamond.”