Dragonskin Slippers (2 page)

“Its clan sent it here,” the brown said woefully, “and now it thinks that a knight will come to save it, even though it is not nobly born.”

“Coo-ee,” the blue-grey breathed. “It’s been years since I’ve had to fight a knight.” It licked its chops with a long forked tongue. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. She looks tasty enough, and you’ll get to eat her champion, too.” A rattling laugh stirred the water. “It’s almost enough to make me fly over to your territory to share the feast.”

My knees were knocking together so hard that I was sure the dragons could hear them, and my teeth had begun to chatter. The brown dragon rather reminded me of the local tailor, who was much plagued by his wife and eight children and liked to pretend that he couldn’t stand the lot of them. Secretly, though, he doted on the entire brood. But this great beast wasn’t the local tailor; he was an animal, a monster, really.

And it seemed that he did eat humans.

Or at least he was acquainted with dragons that did.

I hated my aunt suddenly, with a ferocity that startled me and kept me from hearing the brown dragon’s next words.

“I beg your pardon?” I shook my head to clear my thoughts. It was certainly the wrong time for me to be daydreaming, but there was something so surreal about my situation that I could hardly focus on the here and now.

“We were not speaking to you,” Theoradus said in his dry voice.

“If you must use the pool, you must.” The blue-grey dragon sighed. “But promise me that you will summon me right back, Theoradus. I am
dying
to know how this is going to turn out.”

“Very well,” Theoradus agreed in a much put-upon tone. “Now go.”

He put one claw into the pool and stirred it, breaking up the image of the other dragon, which had something that nearly approached a grin on its face. Theoradus withdrew his claw and then blew a gust of hot, sulphurous breath across the surface of the pool.

The surface boiled and then the bubbles were replaced by an image I recognised as the gates to the lord’s manor. Standing before them were my aunt, Hagen, and the entire host of my cousins. There was a large crowd of townsfolk as well, and I groaned in despair. Even if the dragon did let me go, there would be no living this down. I was going to have to leave Carlieff for certain. Theoradus dipped a claw into the water briefly and the sound of my aunt’s piercing voice filled the cave.

“Swooped down out of the sky, like some great demon from the Holy Writings,” she squawked, waving her
arms for emphasis, while my female cousins all sobbed into their aprons and nodded in carefully coached agreement. “Simply carried her off! And a finer, prettier, more accomplished girl there never was!”

It took me a moment to realise that she was talking about me, and I felt a surge of liking for my aunt. Then I recognised her listener as the lord’s son, and groaned again. She didn’t truly think that I was pretty or accomplished, I told myself. She was only trying to stir him up so that he would ride out to save her poor dragon-abducted niece.

The townsfolk were muttering and weeping in appreciation of the story. The women clutched their children closer and the men scanned the skies for more dragon activity.

“You must do something,” a woman screeched. “Our lord must protect us!”

“This is going to be irritating, at the least,” Theoradus rumbled.

“And at the most?” There was a quaver in my voice that I couldn’t hide.

“Painful.” He bared all his teeth in a jagged grin. “But not for me, of course.”

“What if he should slay you?” I didn’t want to offend the beast, but I was a touch sceptical about his blithe attitude. The lord’s son was very brave, even if he wasn’t very muscular.

“You don’t get to be six hundred and seventy years old by being slow or weak,” the dragon informed me.

“Oh.” I shivered. In the pool, the lord’s son was striking his chest with a large fist and proclaiming that he would rescue the fair maid or be killed in the endeavour. “Oh, dear,” I said.

While I sat glumly on a stone outcropping with my pitiful bundle of belongings beside me, the brown dragon dispersed the image of my aunt and her audience and summoned his blue-grey friend again. I was trying to think of some alternative, some way that I could get out of this mess and go home … No, not home. I didn’t have a home any more, and I was old enough to make my own way in the world, one way or another.

First, however, I needed to get out of this cave.

“The Lord of Carlieff’s son is coming,” Theoradus told his friend in a dry growl, “to rescue the fair maiden.”

“
Is
she fair?” His friend squinted up out of the water at me. “I never can tell with these humans.” He shook his head. “Is he decked out in shining armour and already madly in love with the poor maiden?”

“Yes,” Theoradus admitted, an expression of distinct embarrassment crossing his face.

The other dragon roared with what I realised was laughter. “I might come and watch. Earnest young knights are my favourite sport. I love the looks on their faces when they realise that they’re being slow-cooked in their own armour.”

An idea was forming in my brain, though I had to take a moment to quell the horrifying image of the lord’s son being slow-cooked in his own armour. This outer chamber of the dragon’s lair was very plain, but there was a wide opening beyond the pool that surely led to more caves.

I hopped down from my cold seat. “If I may suggest something,” I began.

“No,” the brown dragon said curtly.

“If you would please listen to me, I could save you the inconvenience of having to fight the lord’s son,” I wheedled.

“No one asked you,” Theoradus retorted.

“But I don’t want to stay here and have you fight him,” I said, taking a bold step towards the beast. “And you don’t want to fight him, either.”

“What is it trying to say?” The blue-grey dragon peered curiously up at me. There was a look of amusement on its muzzle.

“I will happily leave here, and take the lord’s son with me,” I said in a rush. “That way, you won’t have to worry about me, or fighting the lord’s son or any other knight. And all I ask in return is a small trinket from your large and no doubt magnificent hoard.”

A single jewel-encrusted goblet from the dragon’s hoard would pay my way to a city … perhaps even to the King’s Seat itself … And surely the dragon would not miss a single item from what I was sure was a prodigious treasure trove, considering his age.

“You want something from my hoard?” The brown dragon looked stunned.

My heart sank. Perhaps in dragon society this was a horrible faux pas. I prayed fervently that it wasn’t the sort of mistake that was remedied by roasting the offender.

The other dragon guffawed, stirring the water of the pool from underneath. “What in the name of the Seven Volcanoes do you want a pair of shoes for?”

“I beg your pardon?” I stared from one dragon to the other. “Shoes? A pair of – No … I wanted … a goblet or some such.”

“A goblet?” The brown dragon looked mystified. “I don’t collect dinnerware.”

The other snorted, rippling the surface of the pool. “She’s heard the stories,” he explained. “She thinks we all lounge about on piles of gold.”

“You don’t?” My voice was a squeak.

“Of course not,” Theoradus said. “Well, I’m sure there are some who do. It takes all kinds. I myself fancy shoes.” His golden eyes half-closed. “There’s just something so fascinating about the way they’re made, and the way the styles change over the years …”

The blue-grey dragon in the pool was laughing quietly,
a sound that made my eyes water. “Go on, then! Let her take a pair of shoes if she likes, and be off!”

I looked down at my rough sandals. I thought again about going back. I thought about my aunt and the bed I shared with my cousins, who pinched me when they wanted more blankets.

“One pair of shoes,” I bargained with the brown dragon of Carlieff, feeling my heart hammering in my chest at my boldness. “And I’ll never trouble you again.”

There was a long, terrible silence.

“Oh, why not?” He sighed. “Come this way.”

He led me past the pool where the image of the other dragon still laughed, and through the entrance to the inner chamber of his lair. Here, too, I was disappointed as this proved to be just another large cavern, but with a huge oval depression in the floor to one side that I suspected might be the dragon’s bed. Beyond the bed was yet another rough opening and this one was curtained by a large and somewhat mouldy tapestry.

The dragon pulled the tapestry aside with a gesture that was almost reverent, and motioned with his foreclaw for me to precede him into the inner cave. I took a deep breath, still secretly hoping for a pile of gold, and stepped forward.

Shoes. Shoes as far as the eye could see. This third cavern was the largest yet, and every square foot of it was covered in wooden racks holding shoes. Women’s shoes, men’s shoes, children’s shoes. There were boots and dancing slippers and sandals. Shoes made of cloth
and leather and wood. There were fanciful pointed slippers with bells on the upturned toes and men’s work boots with thick soles.

I marvelled at fur-lined boots embroidered with red silk and clusters of small shells. The dragon watched carefully as I caressed a pair of high-heeled dancing slippers so encrusted with emeralds that I doubted the wearer would be able to walk in them, let alone dance. I could not imagine what sort of person would wear such shoes, and I stopped to imagine briefly where the woman had lived, and when.

“Make your choice,” the dragon said as I reached out a hand to a tiny pair that were apparently carved of crystal. The dragon’s voice sounded nervous, and I wondered if he was afraid that my rough peasant’s hands would damage the delicate footwear.

I withdrew my hand and moved on, searching for shoes that looked to be my size. Something sensible, I thought, boots perhaps, or at the least, sturdy brogues.

Nevertheless I paused before a delicate pair of green satin slippers embroidered with gold. My mother would have loved them, I thought with a pang. I remembered how she had sighed over some of the fancy embroidery that she had done for the wealthy women of the town. It had always saddened me that she was forced to wear such plain gowns, when all the while she was toiling over beautiful and intricate garments for women who did not even look her in the eyes when they paid her.

“No, Creel,” I told myself firmly, moving on. “You have to be sensible.”

Sensible. I was not going back to Carlieff Town. I had to make my own way in the world, and if I was going to take a pair of shoes, they would need to reflect that.

I began looking at sturdy shoes with thick soles. They should fit well and be comfortable, or there was no point in having them at all. Fortunately, in the six hundred or so years that the brown dragon had been collecting shoes, he had amassed quite an array in all shapes and sizes, and I soon had a large selection to try on.

He still seemed tense about me touching his hoard, but I was careful to treat each pair gently, no matter how plain or fancy. I set them down on the far side of the room and crouched down to see which ones fitted.

The embroidered slippers made me think of my vague plan, and as I tried on pair after pair of shoes, I worked it over. My mother had taught me to embroider, and to knot and weave sashes and lace. She herself had been an assistant dressmaker in the King’s Seat, before a visit to some cousins had resulted in her meeting and marrying my father. She had never let me do anything for an actual customer, explaining that they had paid her to do the work and she had an obligation to do it. She had trained me using scraps of fabric and tag ends of thread, and I could admit without any false modesty that I was good. Very good, in fact. After I surpassed even my mother’s skill, she had often lamented that my talent would be wasted in Carlieff, with no money to send me to a larger city where I might find a place at a fancy shop.

I had thought that with a piece of the brown dragon’s hoard I could pay my way to a city and buy the materials
I would need for a sampler set to show potential employers. If I was as accomplished as Mother had said, then I hoped to earn enough to one day open my own shop. But without silver to buy what I needed, I would have to try another way. Perhaps if I went to the King’s Seat, where I was totally unknown, and claimed that bandits had robbed me of nearly everything during the journey, the scanty bits of cloth and yarn I had with me would be enough to find me a job.

I had been so caught up in my plans that it took me a moment to realise that I had gone through all the shoes I had originally selected and none of them fitted. I heaved a sigh and put them all back, then began searching for more. Perhaps some sturdy boots meant for a boy, or a better pair of sandals would have to do.

There was a sound from the outer cavern, and the dragon left off his anxious scrutiny of me. I gathered from the rumbling that his friend was impatient to hear what was happening.

At the far end of the last row of shelves I found a strange pair of shoes. Well, not really all that strange – they were sitting beside two somethings made of black and white feathers, which could not possibly fit human feet – but they caught my attention nonetheless. They were a rich azure blue, and made from very soft, thick leather. They had no laces, but slipped over the foot to reach a little way up the front and back of the ankle. The heels were low, the soles were made of some stiffer dark gold leather, and the interiors were lined with white silk.

They were much too fancy for my needs, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from them all the same. They looked to be just my size, and terribly comfortable. Besides, I reasoned, they were obviously new and of good quality. And if I wanted to pass myself off as a master artisan I would need to dress better.

And that meant wearing nice shoes.

I picked them up and went back to the centre of the room, where I had been gathering another group of shoes to try on. I left the blue slippers for last, but I already knew in my gut that they would be the only pair that fitted.