Hunting of the Last Dragon Read Online Free

oddly shaven scalp, and walked with my head high. Someone in the crowd bumped into me and cursed me heartily, and I remember feeling greatly affronted by his disrespect. Could he not tell—could none in that crowd tell—that I, Jude of Doran, had that very hour faced death, and not been moved? I wanted to shout my valour to the skies. I tell you, Brother Benedict, if ever my soul flew and touched the face of God, it was then. I’ll warrant all your prayers and petitions never got you nearer paradise thanTybalt’s sword got me, that day.
    Talking of paradise, it must be almost time for prayers. Take your rest, Brother, for we wrote much yesterday, and ’twould be a calamity to wear you out this early in my narrative, afore I’ve got to the enthralling part.

three
    Greetings, Brother Benedict! Writing already, I see, and my day’s narrative not even begun! Ah—I can guess why. Yester-eve the Abbot asked me about the stuff called paper, that the Chinese write upon, and I wondered how he heard of it. Now I remember that I mentioned paper to you yesterday afore you picked up your pen, while you unrolled the new parchment. I’ll warrant you told the Abbot of it, and that now he thinks there might be other pearls of wisdom in these pleasantries of mine. I suppose he instructed you henceforth to write down every word. ’Tis a waste of good ink, Brother; I swear I’ll not drop any pearls until you hold your pen, ready and inked. What? Still writing anyway? It comes of swearing obedience to your Abbot, I suppose. Well then, without further ado, on with the tale.
    My father had told me to listen for news at Rokeby. Though I had forgot his instruction, I did hear news as I was about to leave. I overheard two women speaking, and got the words “burned to the ground” and pricked up my ears.
    â€œAye,” one of the women was saying, her voice hushed, “everything was destroyed, they said. The whole of Wicklan, the fields and all. ’Tis the beginning of the Day of Judgement, for sure.”
    Wicklan? They spoke of Thornhill, surely, that was razed yesterday? I moved nearer, and listened as they continued.
    â€œOnly the priest escaped,” went on the first woman. “He hid in the crypt beneath the church, and came out three days later to find that all was ash and blackened stone. He ran all the way to the next town, arrived babbling like an idiot, his hair gone white overnight. He said he saw what did it. Saw it coming, flying down from the sky with fire pouring—”
    â€œHush!” whispered her friend, glancing at the children gathered about their skirts. She added, in a brighter tone: “Let’s go and see the bear, Mary. Mayhap they will bait it with a pack of hounds. That will cheer us up and entertain the little ones.”
    They wandered off, leaving me disturbed, my new-won joy gone down a notch or two. As I passed the lastpavilion, the picture on it caught my eye. It was an evil image: a being half human, half animal, with outlandish scarlet robes, devilish slanting eyes, and tiny hooves. Craving distraction from the news I had heard, and not a little curious, I joined the line that was beginning to form outside. A brawny man was taking money as people filed in, and a lad stood beside him shouting: “See Lizzie Little-feet, curiosity from the great Empire of China! Discover heathen rituals! See foreign costumes of priceless silk! Hear the mysterious language of Babble!”
    Slowly we shuffled forward, one by one entering the dimness. I was one of the first in, so I got a good place again, right near the stage. Afore long the pavilion was near full, and there was a great deal of jostling and pushing behind me. Children were grizzling to be picked up so they could see, though there was nothing yet to be seen, save an empty stage and a large bolted wooden box painted with hideous faces. The box was guarded by a man, who was shortly joined by