Free Dragonfire by Anne Forbes Page B

dash your hopes,” said Sir James looking keenly over the loch, “but there isn’t any sign of Nessie.”
    “Have patience, Sir James. She’ll be out there somewhere, never fear. Just let’s get things organized here first. We don’t want any passing motorist to see Arthur, do we?”
    “No, no, certainly not.”
    “I told the Ranger to park on the bend so that I could put the sheep on either side of the transporter. If any motorists do come along then we can easily hold the traffic up while Arthur gets out.”
    Sir James laughed. “A brilliant idea!” he announced. “Let’s get started.”
    As the ramp was lowered, the sheep streamed out purposefully in both directions and proceeded to mill about aimlessly in the middle of the road. Sir James regarded them with approval. Certainly, with them in place, no car coming from either direction would be able to see what was going on by the side of the loch.
    The transporter, now empty of sheep, revealed Arthur in all his glory. He was a magnificent dragon, red scales glistened over his sinuous body, his head was fearsome and horned and his fleshy wings were webbed in glittering gold. Archie was the only MacArthur left inside and was in a dreadful state, clutching an edge of Arthur’s wing in one hand and scrubbing tears out of his eyes with the other.
    “Arthur! Arthur! How can I leave you?” He started to cry bitterly and for a moment the dragon lowered his great head and rubbed his cheek on Archie’s tattered sheepskin jacket, to give him comfort.
    “Come on then, Arthur. It’s time to go,” Archie sobbed. They left the transporter together and, as Arthur clawed his ungainly way across the grey tarmac road to the edge of the loch, a small, slim woman ran down the hillside towards them.
    “Father!” she called. “Father! I’m here!”
    “Ellan!”
    She slipped gracefully through the bushes and ran to hug her father. It showed in every line of his face that the MacArthur thought the world of his daughter and he proudly introduced her to Sir James and the Ranger. Clara and Neil came up from the shores of the loch and took an instant liking to the beautiful, fair-haired young woman, who seemed to glow with youth and laughter.
    “Well,” she said to her father, “I see you’ve brought Arthur to Loch Ness as you promised.”
    “I have,” he said, albeit a trifle defensively.
    She regarded him steadily and shrugged slightly. “What’s done, is done. Let’s hope that no trouble comes from it.”
    “Whatever comes from it will be nothing like the trouble we’ve already had,” snorted the MacArthur.
    They moved down to the loch side and Arthur showed his happiness at seeing Lady Ellan by kneeling awkwardly in front of her and bending his head to the ground.
    “Arthur!” she chided gently. “What’s this that I’ve been hearing? Setting the hill ablaze with your fire?”
    Arthur looked more than upset; he looked a thoroughly mortified dragon. As Clara watched, he covered his head with his wings in shame. Large tears welled from his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. They were no ordinary tears, however, for as they splashed to the ground, the strangest thing happened. The tears solidified into glowing jewels that shone with a piercing amber light that Dougal MacLeod would have recognized immediately.
    “How gorgeous!” Clara exclaimed, picking them up and holding them out to Lady Ellan. “Arthur’s tears have turned into beautiful jewels!”
    Lady Ellan held them in her hand and looked at Arthur. “They are very rare and very precious,” she said softly. “Dear Arthur, don’t cry. Truly there is no need. My father and I hope you will be very happy here in Loch Ness and if you’re not, you know we will be more than happy to have you back in the hill.” She cast her father a warning glance as she said this and with an effort he bit back the words that had sprung to his lips.
    “Now, Arthur, you will really have to stop crying, you know, for I