"Fourteen... fourteen? ...Fourteen." No matter how many times he counted, Tarren always came up with the same number. Trouble was, there were supposed to be fifteen. One goat was missing. It didn't take long for me to find the gap in the fence where it must have squeezed through. One of the crossbars looked a little short, someone could have accidentally knocked it loose while sharpening their horns or something.
Tarren slotted the bar back into the post and wiggled it back and forth a little. Yup, just too short. He sucked on his teeth for a moment and scanned past the fence for the missing goat. No sign. The missing goat was bad enough, but fixing this fence had been Tarren's responsibility just last week.
Pa was going to hide him for this, that much was sure. When he found out... If he found out. Well, the only way that was going to happen was if he found that damned goat. He called his little brother Linus over to watch the herd for a bit while he went looking.
Tarren pushed through the last of the thicket. He'd managed to track the goat this far, but then lost the trail in the underbrush. Still, this seemed like the most likely place to hide anything in these woods. Was that movement up ahead?
"Got you, you little...", the words died on Tarren's lips. That was
not a goat.
It's head was the size of a horse at least and covered in deep blue scales. Its eyes were open... and looking right at him. Tarren froze in place, still stuck half way through the briars. There was no doubt this thing was a predator. He spotted what little remained of the goat and offered a little prayer that the monster wasn't still hungry. A low, rumbling hiss was emanating from it's throat and it started to stir, puffing up its scales and unfurling its wings in a decidedly unfriendly display. The movement revealed something else. Nestled alongside the creature's sinuous body there was a single egg. Tarren didn't know much about dargons, but if he knew anything, he knew better than to threaten a mother with its young. He lowered his gaze and slowly backed away until he could no longer hear the warning hiss.
"Did you hear?"
Tarren looked up from his dinner with some interest. News in the village was rare, anything even mildly exciting traveled fast.
"There's a foreigner on the island. Great big fella. Old Lawrence said he and his son met him up in the hills just this morning. Anyways, this bloke claims to be a monster hunter of all things. As if we have any monsters round these parts, right? That's what I thought too, but Young Lawrence said that this fella had already caught one. Well not by himself, he has a crew helping him. Shifty looking types if you ask me. Anyways, it's supposed to be a bloody great blue lizard with wings. Never seen such a thing myself, but it takes all kinds, or so they say. But the real interesting thing is why they're still up there. Says he's looking for a nest! Offering a reward to anyone who helps them find an egg. Gold, they said."
Tarren almost dropped his spoon as he listened to grandfather go on about how the village had been reacting to the news. Foreigners, monsters and gold. This would be the talk of the town for months, if not years. His potato stew nearly forgotten, his mind started racing. He still didn't know quite why he'd never told anyone about the dargon. But he realized that it meant that he was the only one in the village who already knew exactly where to find that egg!
Tarren crept quietly into the thicket where he'd spotted the egg months ago. In his mind, he was already counting the reward. He'd share it with his parents of course, but they'd let him keep some, to be sure. In a few years he'd be able to start up his own farm. Maybe even buy a horse, or two! He could ask Daisy to marry him. She'd refused to dance with him just last month, and stepped out with that lout Harry instead. But no way she could say no to a boy... no, a man with his own farm and
two horses.
He was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost missed the thicket. But soon he was on his hands and knees squeezing through the undergrowth and hoping the egg was still there. There it was! Wait, was that a crack? It was! Thoughts of his reward skipping through his fingers filled his head and he stumbled forward in a rush. Then another crack appeared, and another, and the egg began to rock. The egg hatched, and in a single moment, Tarren's life changed forever.
Farms and horses and Daisy were all driven from his mind as he stared into a pair of liquid eyes. There was no way he was ever going to turn this little fellow over to some hunter. Tarren sighed and reached out towards the baby dargon who cooed and rubbed his head against the boy's outstretched hand.
"I'm sorry about your mom. But... I'm here. I'll look after you."
Tarren was growing increasingly worried. He'd tried keeping Mortimer in the thicket at first, sneaking out to feed and spend time with the hatchling. But his frequent unexplained absences had earned him yet another lecture on ending up like Uncle Dave. So he'd moved Mortimer to the farm, but the number of places to hide a rapidly growing dargon was limited.
It all came to a head one day when the news came that the hunter had found the nest, and the shards of the egg. The reward was now being offered for one baby dargon, alive. Tarren loved his family, but gold was gold. There wasn't a man, woman or child in the village that wouldn't trade a dumb animal for a better life. Really he couldn't blame them, but he wasn't about to give up either. With the hunter camped out in the woods, the best place to be was anywhere else. It was time to leave home.
Tarren stood stock still on the docks of the island's only port. He'd never come to the big city before. Dad occasionally went for business, but Tarren was never allowed to come along. He was lost, and had no idea what to do. He clutched a burlap sack containing Mortimer and a few supplies, scanning the hordes of humanity on the docks. There must have been a hundred people or more!
That's when Tarren saw a familiar face. He'd recognize that jaw and those eyebrows anywhere. Pa had found him. He wasn't sure how, but that was definitely... Wait, what was he wearing? That wasn't Pa. He was too lean, and too young. But the similarities were uncanny. Wait a moment... Tarren stepped forward and called out uncertainly,
"Uncle Dav?"