The Dragons of Morad by L.R. Patton

Author:L.R. Patton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Dragons and danger, magical kings and kingdoms, historical fairy tale adventure and quest, epic fantasy fairy tale retelling, middle grade literature with magical creatures, Arthurian tales and fables, Nursery rhymes with fairies and shapeshifters and wizards and swords and sorcery
Publisher: Batlee Press
Published: 2016-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

Peace

ONE day, when Cora was still a girl of seven, the village erupted in a roar.

The king, it seemed, had banished his son, the one who stole to the village at night and provided food for the hungry and blankets for the cold. The only good-hearted man among the men of King Sebastien’s castle, banished for the very reason the villagers loved him: his kindness.

The village people were outraged. They stormed through the streets and into the center of town, and they gathered at the fountain but did not dare open the underground chamber. They cursed their king.

Cora’s father found her among the villagers in the streets. He had come with news of his own, but when he saw the people cursing in the streets, he raised his voice and his hands and said, “People of Fairendale,” and every head turned his way. “Listen to me, please.” They looked at him and he looked at them. His eyes softened. Their eyes softened. “I beg you,” he said. “We must keep the peace. At all costs.”

A few of the village men, known for their tempers, shouted at him and called him mad. But the fire had gone out of the others, for they respected Cora’s father as an advisor of sorts. He had always shown himself to be a wise man, and a kind one, too.

“How will we keep the peace?” one of the men shouted. His face turned red like the flowers that sprinkled the hill. “The king has stolen our help. Our children will starve.”

“We will find a way,” Cora’s father said. “We will plant a garden, perhaps.”

The angry men grumbled, but a woman spoke up. “I tended a garden as a girl.” She was a woman who had not been born in Fairendale, but one who had followed her husband when he met her on his travels.

The fire, however, had not cooled in Cora. She found herself protesting. “From what will we plant a garden, Father? We have nothing left.”

Her father looked at her, his eyes wide in that way he had when he was surprised, or, perhaps, disappointed. He had not expected her to thwart his peace efforts, you see. But she could not support his peace, now, could she? The king had banished the only goodness in the castle. They could not live without goodness. A world cannot survive without goodness.

They must fight back. They must let the king know that he could not banish a man who had saved them from starvation. They could not simply die and do nothing about their dying.

“We will make do,” Cora’s father said.

“With what, Father?” Cora said, louder this time, for she wanted the people to hear. She wanted their fight. “With what will we make do?” She spread her hands before her and then waved them back toward the village houses. “There is nothing left.”

And though she was only a girl of seven, the townspeople looked at her, and they saw the truth. Cora found that she could be powerful with not only her magic but also her words.

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