I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the smell of a roast and all its trimmings wafted over me, with hints of fresh bread and coffee. The room was warm and lit by the fire, as well as several candles and a few oil lamps. On quick inspection I found a total lack of any modern appliances, or even electric outlets. The stove looked circa 1920. Who in the world lived here? By this time I had gathered enough strength to try to stand, but found that my feet were beginning to ooze blood onto the stone floor. Not knowing what else to do, I stood up to head for the bathroom to clean them before I made too much of a mess. I must have stood up too quickly, because the next thing I knew, the floor was coming toward my face at an alarming speed. I let out a startled yelp as something stopped my nose from connecting with the stone while a huge clatter came up around me. ‘Weel now, what do we have here?’ a soft, deep voice with a lilt exclaimed as strong arms lifted me from the cold stones. ‘A. Steven George no longer wished to slay a dragon. Still, the path lay directly before him, up the side of the smoking mountain. Neither the donkey nor the gypsy stirred as Steven started up the path. He carried nothing with him but his hat. The path wound as it rose from the desert floor and soon, Steven George was looking out across a marshy land where in the distance there ran a ribbon of water. On the far side of the water lay a village where people lived peaceful, happy lives because they were free of the fear of the dragon. Steven looked out across the distance and realized that he no longer wished to return to his home.“I have found what I came to find!” he shouted across the valley. “I have taken the dragon to my heart and you are safe. There is no more need for a dragonslayer.” Then he flung the hat away from him into the morning breeze.The winds caught the hat and it ascended. High on the mountain he could see it silhouetted against the glow of fire. Higher still it soared.
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