“Because she didn’t use to be,” Alistair muttered.“She’s changed, and those who noticed haven’t lived to tell.”
“Wait, are you saying Nessie has been killing people?”I couldn’t help my shock.
“Depends on the person.Sometimes she likes to keep them for entertainment,” Alistair replied.
I probably didn’t want to know what that meant.“What of the Red Caps taking orders from her?What does she use them for?”
“Whatever dirty work she needs done.Since Nessie can’t leave the loch, she requires others to accomplish that task for her.If someone gets too nosy, her Red Caps make them disappear.She also uses them to steal treasure for her collection.You’ll find many unsolved thefts can be lain at her beach.”
A timer went off, and Alistair rushed to the kitchen and, a moment later, bellowed, “Dinner!”
The roast proved tender and tasty, the potatoes soft and flavorful.While I watched Alistair throughout the meal, he ate only slightly more than me and Astaria.
After dinner, Astaria left with a wave and a tease that she’d see me again.I took that as promising, given her gift of foresight.Her departure, however, left me alone with Alistair, who didn’t argue when I offered to help with the dishes.
As I dried, I couldn’t help myself from asking more questions.“Seeing as how you’ve been around a long time, you must have seen and experienced things that differ from the history texts we have today.”
“I have.The inaccuracies are annoying, hence why I avoid those types of books.”
“What kind of inaccuracies?”I prodded.
“History is written by victors from their perspective, painting them in a heroic light, but the truth is, both sides usually had valid reasons for fighting.”
“I’d say the Scots had the more noble reason in the battle for their independence.”
“They did, but at the same time, the level of lives lost was unnecessary.Many of those skirmishes didn’t accomplish anything.Look at what eventually happened.Scotland became a part of England.Oh, and before you ask, William Wallace?Much nicer man in the movies than in person.”
“You met him?”The historian in me practically orgasmed.
“Yes.Couldn’t stand the man, and I don’t just mean because of the smell.”
“Is that why you didn’t eat him?”I teased.
“Back then, I rarely wore my dragon.It was a superstitious time where dragons were hunted as being automatically evil, and the people believed everything good or bad that happened was because of the gods.”
“Were you ever worshipped as one?”
He snorted.“Yes.In my younger years, when I erroneously believed dragons were supreme creatures.Smarter, more evolved, and deserving of veneration.I had more than a dozen servants catering to my needs.Numerous villages that made offerings of food and treasure for my blessing.At the time, I reveled in the foolish pageantry and false idolatry.”
“What made you change your mind about it?”
“A drought hit, a bad one that lasted years.Crops refused to grow.People began to starve.Some began claiming I’d caused it because I wasn’t pleased.”
“They tried to kill you?”I gasped.
“No.That I could have handled.They did something worse.They began sacrificing their children to me.”
“Oh dear.”
“It horrified me that they thought I would want them to do so.Worse, the scent of their spilled blood didn’t repulse.”
“You ate them?”I squeaked.
“No!”he barked.“But the mere fact I’d been tempted filled me with self-loathing, and I could no longer, in good conscience, accept their obeisance.I left and spent more than a century as a hermit on what you know today as Mount Fury in the Cascades National Park.”
“What brought you out of isolation?”
“Another dragon.”
