The Dragon Lord's Wish

Ep 7: Marvelous Max

“Yes, sir.”

I hear footsteps coming towards me. There is panting and whining.

Damn. The dog is going to smell me, and my escape will have meant nothing. Chappon will kill me and no one will even care.

I hear the dog sniffing as they come to the corner of the cart. I freeze and hold my breath. The dog is at my feet.

Oh gods. I can’t go back there. I would rather the dog tear me limb from limb than go back to the dungeon.

I hear the growls and my chest seizes, refusing to let me breathe. I squeeze my eyes close to the point I see stars in my vision. The air stands still for a moment and I brace for sharp teeth to tear into my flesh.

“You dumb mutt, leave that alone! Come on you mangy mongrel!”

My eyes shoot open and my heart skips a beat. I hear the man growl and yell at the dog. The dog growls back, and it sounds like its mouth is full.

The hind quarter!

Never thought I would be grateful to a pig, but here I am. I peek out of the cloth to see the man attempting to drag the dog out to the street and the dog has the hindquarter in its mouth. Its hind paws digging into the snow, refusing to budge while growling, slobber dribbling down onto the half-rotten meat. I would probably laugh if I wasn’t so scared. The man finally picks up the enormous beast of a dog and lugs him out into the street all while the dog growls and gnaws on its prize.

I waited for the night to grow quiet again. My body becomes stiff from crouching and waiting. The wind whistles softly between the buildings while the snow dances through the night. I feel my eyes start to droop and my head begins to feel heavy.

Another bark woke me up. It was still night, so I did not think I was asleep for that long. I swiftly cover myself with the cloth again, worried that I’ll be caught now that I have no rotting hindquarters to hide behind.

“Do you think Chappon will be angry we didn’t find her?”

“Does the sun rise in the mornings?”

“Fair point. At least we get to return to our homes tonight. I would hate to be one of those sent to the border. It is far too cold. My ass is about to freeze.”

Merde. The men passed by me without so much as looking my way. The dogs seemed to be too focused on a lone bird in the street that they did not seem to pick up on my scent.

He sent his men to the border? I underestimated Chappon's reach. If he sent men to the border, then I wouldn’t be able to leave Chappon’s territory without being caught.

The voices trail off and all I can hear is the soft snow still falling. I waited for what must have been another half hour to ensure no one else was coming. I stand up and limp on. My muscles are so stiff and I’m frozen. I try to assess the feeling in my toes to find that it is gone. I need to get warm somehow.

I hobble up the street hoping to find a place to rest. I hear horses in the distance, and a faint glow through the snow casting.

I forgot there was a stable on this street. I feel all turned around and I have no sense of time other than it is late night/early morning. I make my way to the side door where there is a small window. I look inside and see no one.

I try the door to the stable, its open. Thank the gods something is going right.

I walk inside, careful not to make too much noise in case a stable hand stays the night to guard the horses. I look in the front working space and see no one. I move to the main hallway. A black horse stretches his head out to me with his ears perked up. For the first time in days, I smile.

“Hello sweet boy, and who are you?” I ask him, laughing to myself as if he could answer me.

I hold out my hand and he place his muzzle into it before huffing a great sigh. His nose was so soft. His mane is so full, and I can see his muscles ripple under his skin. Despite his size and power, he seems to have a very sweet, playful demeanor.

He wiggles his lips under my hand, it tickled my hands. I gave him some scratches along his face, and he nickered as if approving of the affection. I think his name is etched into the stall door, but not knowing how to read it made it almost pointless for me to look. But to my surprise, I knew the first letter! Madame Blanchet showed me some letters and helped me with their sounds.

“M,” I mused, “hmmmm, I think I’ll call you Marvelous Max! Because you are so handsome.”

He shook his head at me and nickered to reply. I lean against his neck to rest and to my delight he lets me. Almost as if he could feel my intent.

“You won’t tell anyone I’m here, will you? I just need to stay for a few hours to rest.”

Max smells my front before placing his muzzle on my good shoulder and gently presses into it.

“Good boy,” I tell him. I embrace his neck with my good arm and give a small squeeze. After some more praise and compliments about how handsome he is, I walk over to the ladder for the hayloft and climb up.

I go all the way to the back, make myself a hay bed and sit down. I finally have a moment to look at myself. I feel my ribs are broken and the bone rubbing over the other. Bruises paint a mural across my body with yellows, blacks, blues, purples, and pinks. I placed my injured arm between my legs to attempt to put it back in place. I begin to pull. It hurts, it hurts so bad. I start seeing stars and my field of vision begins to gray again.

The pain begins to feel like lightning down my arm and my hand starts to tingle. I cry out and stop, panting to cope with the pain and attempting to remain quiet. I give up hope that I will be able to put it back into place myself. Once I get out of Paris I can try to find someone to help, though I'm certain I will have lost some function in that arm by then. I cut a triangle out of my skirt and tie the two ends together before slipping it over my head. Once placing my arm into the sling, I can breathe easier as the weight is taken off my shoulder, allowing the pain to dull.

There is a pile of old horse blankets in the corner of the loft. They are thinner and have holes, but it is better than having hay as a blanket I suppose. After I make a nest among the hay and old blankets, I get as comfortable as I can. My broken body aches.

I think if I wasn’t so tired the pain would bother me more. But exhaustion overtakes me, and the world begins to fade around me. I drift off into my dreams again. There’s no pain. I can breathe. Someone is holding me close and humming a song. It has a slow, sweet melody and it comforts me. I hear this melody often in my dreams, though I would never be able to tell you how I know it.