Melitta woke up warmer than she expected. When she opened her eyes, she realised why. Somehow during the night, she'd cuddled up to George, and she could feel the heat of him even through the thickness of her cloak.
She edged away from him, wishing that they had managed to find an inn to spend the night in. She almost wished they'd accepted the offer of that barn, but she wouldn't go that far.
That particular hamlet had been poor enough before the giants turned up, and when travel slowed along that particular road, the giants hadn’t been averse to stealing from them. Now, with their best breeding stock long gone into the giants' bellies, and their women sent who knew where, some of those men had been desperate enough to consider robbing travellers for their own profit. Not wanting to be their first victim, Melitta had asked to buy supplies from the farmers. If she'd paid twice what the food was worth, no one had commented on it. She hoped that the return of travellers along their road, now the giants were gone, might help them more than turning bandit themselves.
Or it might do nothing. Melitta would never know, as she wasn't likely to travel this road again.
She sighed as she crouched down to stir up the fire, searching for a hot coal among the ashes. She soon had it burning merrily again, with flames hot enough to toast some of yesterday's bread. Even with the fire going, the brisk morning wasn't warm enough for her to want to take off her cloak. Not for the first time, she wished she hadn't cut off her hair as the breeze sent icy fingers tickling her neck. Melitta pulled up her hood.
"Are you cold, my lady?" George crouched down beside her and set another piece of wood on the fire. "From behind, you looked like a witch casting some sort of spell."
Melitta laughed. "There are those who say that my mind-reading gift makes me a sort of witch, if not the spellcasting kind. But seeing as you called my cooking magical last night, perhaps I am casting a spell over breakfast after all." She offered him the stick she'd used to skewer her toast.
Melitta rose and busied herself saddling her horse and fastening her saddlebags. She'd remembered George's story about the dragon last night, and, more importantly, she'd remembered her unanswered questions.
"You never did tell me. Where is the dragon we're supposed to face, and when will we do it?" she asked.
George dropped his food in the fire. "What?"
"You told me last night how you fought the dragon, and failed. I saw in your mind that you believe we can win, together. So when are we doing this? Or am I still not ready?" Much though she hated to admit it, Melitta didn't feel any more like a hero than when she'd first set out. Without her bow, her archery hadn't improved. Her sword skills were still rudimentary at best and she might have killed a few men, and the boar, before she helped trap two unicorns, but none of that felt particularly heroic.
Whereas a dragon…that was the sort of monster only a hero could conquer.
George uncorked the water skin and took a drink. "My lady, you were ready the very day I met you, and no mistake. If anyone can defeat a dragon, it is you. After all I've seen you do already, I have no doubt of that. It is me who may not be ready, and to tell the truth, I may never be. What if I run away again?"
Did he really believe that? Melitta's heart swelled in her chest. With pride, no less.
"I couldn't have done any of what I have without you. All of the monsters we've vanquished, we've done it together," she said warmly. "And with the assistance of your fleet feet, as you call them. A hero is more than his sword or armour. It takes cunning and honour and so much more to do what we have done. We shall find this dragon, face it, and we shall defeat it. And we'll do it without enchanted swords and other such silly things. We'll have what other knights won't. We'll have a plan."
For a moment, George raised his eyes to her, and they were filled with hope. "I want to believe you, but what if I run? I will never forgive myself if I leave you to face the beast alone."
Melitta smiled. "Last night, you told me of all the men who had faced the dragon before you. How they stood and fought, until they died. Whatever we do, and however we do this, there must be a way to put those fleet feet of yours to good use. They helped you outrun a dragon once. I bet you could do it again. We'll need a bigger cellar, though."
"Have you ever seen a dragon? They have wings. They can fly."
Melitta swallowed. "No, I've never seen one. But you have. Which is why I need your help. What do you say, George? Time to go kill a dragon?"
George bowed low. "Whatever my lady wishes."