The Dragonboy of Regnaville - Page 3

Holger kept quiet about his anxieties for some time, not even mentioning it to Birgitta.  But then Birgitta, too, was fearful and silent.  Julian understood the look of dismay that creased his father's face, the disapproving turning of his back.  So he stopped.  For a while.  After all, he was doing only what came naturally to him and he brimmed with health.  Though there was the skin that peeled from his elbows, the transparent film that grew over his eyes like a second set of eyelids, and the scaly rash that spread across the backs of his hands.  But nothing especially surprising among all the ailments of a 13th century Austrian community.  Everyone had been exposed to the Great Pimple outbreak of 1215.  As well as the spread of bloated belly a few years later at the end of the rotting turnip season.  Since being thrown into the River Danube was considered the best cure for anything and everything, Julian soon grew used to a regular soaking.

Durnstein was a quite place.  It hadn't always been so.  Forty years before, caught up in the Crusades, Durnstein Castle was known throughout Europe, and particularly in England.  For it was here that Richard the Lionheart was imprisoned on his way back from fighting in the Holy Land against Saladin.  When that period came to an end, Durnstein slowly reverted to its old ways of peace and neighbourliness.

That is, until Julian reached the age of thirteen.

'Catch the lizard, Julian!' Toma shouted, as a gang of ten or so teenagers gathered at the foot of the Castle wall.  Winters were harsh when the cold air travelled south, but the summers were warm.  Little green lizards sunned themselves on the Castle's south-facing wall, soaking up the heat.  'Catch the lizard!  Catch the lizard!'  The chant would get louder and louder.  So off Julian would scurry this way and that, fingers and toes splayed out against the stonework, finding every chink and rough edge.  Never faltering, never slipping, in defiance of gravity, as if he were glued to that wall.  He'd catch one after another, before letting them go.  The kids would sing his name, but some older people found this alarming.  Even the genial Fra Johannes looked thoughtful.