“I think,” Ciara said, smiling at the boy, “I have heard of his amazing adventures and his many victories against dragons. I hadn’t heard the story about the screaming dragon though. Maybe you’ll tell me more?”

Ciara took his hand when it was offered, but she faltered along with her heart, fluttering out of rhythm at the name. Not only was the boy the spitting image of Arthur, and had seemed like he had to be her son, he was. All the more reason for him to stay away from the knights and the castle.

“It- It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ned.” She said, fighting to keep her voice from breaking. She followed his gaze toward the grunts and thumps and reached out instinctively to cover his eyes as the ruffian crumpled to the ground, dead. A child didn’t need to see that. He certainly didn’t need to see someone she clearly looked up to causing the death of another person, regardless of moral standing the deceased held. She was happy when Ned suggested he wanted to move further away and out of site of the fighting. Mordred’s reign hadn’t hardened her son’s heart; he was safe with Mallos in that respect.

When they reached the bench, Ciara sat beside the boy and hugged the stuffed horse to her stomach. She wanted to know everything about the boy, but the thought of scaring him off with a barrage of questions held her tongue tight. She’d let him tell her about himself, with as little prying as she could manage. Ciara nodded as Ned told her about the knights’ plan to present him to the queen for help. Maybe Queen Gaiane would have helped Ned return to his home, but if she did, the queen would know where Mallos was keeping Ned, and if the queen knew, Mordred knew. Besides, the queen had a son to look after and care for. She didn’t need to take Ciara’s too.

“Maybe I can help you instead?” she offered, stroking the ragdoll’s mane gently. “I don’t know if the knights know this, but there is a very mean dragon who guards the castle here from deep inside it. A mean dragon who killed our last king. Only, the new king keeps him hidden so the people won’t be scared and send him away.” She whispered the words to him. They were treason, and reason enough to have her head if the wrong person overheard. As far as the people were concerned, Angmar and Pallas were perfectly kind and well-behaved dragons. It was a shame they didn’t realize Mordred was the fork-tongued beast to fear.

The bracelet was still warm from the boy’s hand when Ciara took it gently from him. A hop loop. Mallos was leaving hop loops lying around for his grandson to stumble upon. And she didn’t have any at home or on her to take him back to wherever Mallos was hiding his family.

“Do you know where your Papa might be? Or where home is? I don’t have any of these to take you back, but I know someone who sells them,” she said, putting her arm around her son’s shoulder in a soft hug. Nalani hovered overhead, dutifully watching the battle in case the lordly bear was needed. “I won’t be able to get them until the morning, though. You’d be more than welcome to stay the night with me if you’d like. And I’ll make sure the king and the knights don’t know about the theft. Your secret is safe with me, I promise. Wouldn’t want one mistake to get you into too much trouble.”

She smiled kindly at him and leaned back against the bench. “We can wait until we know your knight friends are all safe first before we find a place for you to stay, if you like. Then the man who sells these can help us program new ones to take us this hop loop brought you to Shaman from. But first, I want to know the name of Sir Hugs’ mighty steed, and about how Sir Hugs conquered the screaming dragon.”