From TBM Guest Blogger, Elizabeth Kay…

There was a lot of snow in Poland when I arrived to pursue my quest, which was to consult another monster about the best way of rescuing the authors trapped in the cave. In fact, it snowed every single day I was there. The monster I went to see lives at the foot of Wawel Castle, in Cracow, and is presumably a distant relative of the dragon that terrorised the countryside and ate a lot of maidens a few hundred years earlier.

That particular dragon was killed by a poor cobbler’s apprentice, who stuffed a sheepskin with sulphur, and left it on the banks of the River Vistula. The dragon devoured the bait and developed a raging thirst, as intended. He could only quench this thirst by drinking half the Vistula dry, which, understandably, inflated him so much that he eventually exploded. Blood and guts and scales and claws everywhere, and a lot of rejoicing by the local peasants. The cobbler’s apprentice then married the king’s daughter, as heroes of old tended to do. It’s unclear whether this was the main impetus for the deed, or prospect of lots of free dragon leather with which to make up-market shoes.

I’d heard that the current dragon still breathed fire – I’d found a photograph on the internet so that I knew what to look for. I made sure I wasn’t wearing anything sewn from sheepskin, which would have given the wrong impression. Actually, it could have been downright dangerous. But when I got to the foot of the castle I was in for a surprise. The dragon had decided it was just too cold, and had gone into hibernation. He was covered with snow. I shouted. I poked him. I shouted again. Nothing.

So yet another dead end. I did read a good book on the plane home, though. The Falconer’s Knot, by Mary Hoffman. It’s a mediaeval murder mystery, set in 14th century Italy, with lots of grisly murders. But I’m no nearer mounting a rescue attempt. There must be someone who can come up with a good plan…

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