Belmardina was determined now more than ever to help Cadfael. The next morning, as the patrol was moving out, Belmardina took flight to do her scouting. Halfway through her daily mission, she circled back to Snowcap Village. It was getting cloudy and windy, and her fear of lighting forced her to stay low. She landed a short distance from town, dressed, and then made her way back to the library.

Belmardina pleaded with the female dwarf curator: “Is there anything I can do to barter for the book? I don’t have any money to offer, but I can turn into a fifty-foot dragon. If you need a boulder moved, brush burned… I can even fly you anywhere in Dru if you need me to.”

“So you truly can turn into a giant dragon? I thought the rumors were false!” The dwarf said, “There're only a few dragons that big in all of Dru…” she became thoughtful for a moment. “Say, I think there is something you can do. Dragon horns are some of the toughest material out there. One as large as yours would fetch at least ten gold drachma if not more.”

Belmardina beamed. “I can do that! Dragon horns grow back, after all.”

And so, Belmardina and a small entourage of dwarfs brandishing saws and axes walked outside and into the street to remove one of her horns. She turned into a dragon and lowered her head to the snowy ground, holding very still while the dwarfs worked.

Thirty minutes passed. Thirty minutes of doing nothing but listening to instruments pound away on her right horn. Vibrations echoed into her skull, forming a thundering headache. Finally, one of the dwarfs hopped down from her head (as it was the best place to stand while working on her horn) and looked her in the eye. “We’re sorry, milady. We’ve worked it as hard as we could, but the material is too tough. We can’t remove it.”

Belmardina lifted herself to her four feet and carried her heavy body to a nearby pond, looking at her reflection. There wasn’t a single dent in the horn. “Is there anything else we can try?” She asked, feeling a lump climb into her throat (something that had been happening to her more and more often) Why am I so emotional these days!

They tried for another hour. Denizens of the town, curious about the dragon and the dwarfs climbing on her head, back, and horn, came pouring out to see what was happening. Eventually, they even joined in. They worked with chisels, spears, swords, ropes, chains and fire. A wizard even attempted a spell on her horn, but it fell flat like buttered toast hitting the floor butter-side down.

Finally, the villagers became bored and returned to their homes. It began to rain, and the dwarfs were forced to give up.”We’re sorry, milady. But, you should at least be very proud to have such sturdy horns.” And with that, they left Belmardina alone in the cold. Tears began to sting her eyes.

One of the townsfolk had accidentally left a chain wrapped about her horn, and though she tried desperately to reach it, she could not remove it, and she did not want to change back into a human as she was much warmer in her dragon form. She wondered what Blutgang would have to say about her trying to remove a horn. He’ll either be proud of me for trying, or worried… possibly angry that I’d go to such an extreme to help Cadfael. She had never seen her husband angry before and she hoped this incident would not inspire ire toward her.

As she began her flight back to the patrol, she prayed silently. She prayed that she might yet find some way to remove her horn or get money through other means. She prayed for Cadfael and his son, and she prayed for Blutgang and their child.

The wind picked up, and Belmardina realized it had become ominously dark. Rain streaked down her wings, sending showers of droplets into the air whenever she had to flap. Her heart began to race—if she could just get beyond the clouds she would be safe. Thunder rumbled, coming closer and closer…

Belmardina’s hair began to rise, pulled up toward the clouds by writhing electricity. Suddenly, a blinding light enveloped her world, jolting her with a searing and almost indescribable pain as it wrapped itself about her, searching for the chain on her right horn. A sound louder than anything she had ever heard boomed through the air, chasing the light, reverberating her bones. She felt her strength leave her in its entirety, and she fell to the earth as if she had become lead.

When she awoke, the storm was passing. Her head throbbed, and she felt like she could not move. She stared at the receding clouds from her place on a grassy hill. The smell of rain entered her nostrils, and she finally realized she was not dead.

She sat up slowly, every inch of her body trembling. She felt about her scales, wings, and tail, looking for damage or any serious wounds. There were slight burns about the right side of her head, and she felt like her skull was somehow heavier on the left side. She sat for several more minutes, catching her breath until at last, she realized she had been struck by lighting.

She reached up to her right horn. It had been severed, and the chain dangled loosely about the base of what remained of the horn. But where was the missing part? She looked about and saw it, sticking out of a puddle filled with the colors of a rainbow that had blossomed overhead.

Cadfael was overjoyed to have his book returned to him later that evening. He bowed deeply before her, saying, “You’re the best choice our king could have made in a queen.” He then pulled a small book from his satchel, “I’ve been trying to find something to fill this little book with, and, with your permission I would like to write a short children’s story for your son.”

Belmardina beamed with pride and happiness for her friend. “I’d love that, Cadfael.”

After that, she made her way to Blutgang who had just halted the soldiers for the evening. When he saw the burns (much smaller on her human form) next to her right ear and a strand of hair that had been shorn down to an inch, forming a bang above her right eye, he immediately asked what had happened.

Belmardina told him the story, slowly and truthfully. After the tale was done, he nodded in his simple way, saying nothing. Belmardina thought he was okay until they began setting up their tent for the night. Usually he would talk to Oak, describing all that they were doing in an effort to get him to say his first word, but he was strangely disquieted. Belmardina was unused to confronting situations such as this, and she could not find the courage to talk to him about what was bothering him.