CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In the second hall were more golden statues. They were representations of ancient holy sages and saintly spirits. However, what amazed Wulfstan were the colourful paper dragons lying asleep on the floor at his feet.
Of course, they were only paper dragons. But could they ever be transformed into fire-breathing monsters? Wulfstan wondered. If they were transformed would they be as good or evil dragons? He had in mind the dreadful incident which happened in Dunara many years ago. It was when a dragon emerged from the sea and began to eat the local inhabitants. To appease the monster they decided to offer it a regular meal. Every day they selected a victim from the city’s men and women by lot until one day they extracted the name of the King’s daughter.
Wulfstan told the story to the monk.
‘So the dragon ate the maiden?’ he queried.
‘Not quite fortunately,’ replied Wulfstan. ‘But just as she was about to expire before the incandescent heat emanating from the dragon’s mouth a knight in resplendent armour on a winged steed appeared out of a whirlwind of dark clouds. He quickly lanced the monster and saved the king’s daughter’s life’.
‘How wondrous!’ exclaimed the monk. ‘Do you celebrate this event in any way?’
‘Yes. We hold a feast in our castle’s banqueting hall every year in commemoration of the saving of the princess’s life. On one end wall of the hall our finest painter frescoed a scene which illustrates the event. In it the supreme force is represented by the whirlwind of dark clouds in the top right of the painting. The knight is on horseback, in full armour and with his lance poised for attack. The winged green dragon receives the lance’s blow in one of its eyes and a chain already ties it at the neck. The princess elegantly holds the chain in her hand as if she were taking the dragon for a walk like a pet dog. In the left foreground, there is a dark cave among rocks. This is the dragon’s den and symbol of hell. A pleasant landscape of fields and blue hills form the scene’s background and in this countryside, one cannot overlook the city of Dunara. It is placed in the centre of the composition on a slope at the feet of the mountain chain and is dominated by a fortress with a keep, from which a wall, ending with a tower interrupting the encircling walls, descends’.
‘I would very much like to visit your castle and see this painting’, said the monk.’ It must look quite splendid’.
‘You shall’ assured him Wulfstan. ‘Interestingly the same painter made a miniature copy of his work which I carry with me for protection,’
‘Could I see it?’ asked the monk.
‘Of course’ answered Wulfstan ‘Here it is.’
The monk whose name was Chenrezig was surprised by what he saw.
He commented ‘Of course our dragons are nothing like this brute beast. They would fight against such monsters.’
Wulfstan was content with Chenrezig’s statement. He was content because he felt safe. But how he thought, were the sleeping dragons in this hall in ever come to life?