Malady, deluded child that she was, thought that he had come to bring her baubles and fripperies, but it was plain she had no idea of what to do with her position other than to increase her wardrobe and her prospects for displaying it. She might not be necessary after all. Pity. She was a pretty child and they had always gotten along. But her adoration of him seemed to have wavered somewhat recently.
He felt neglecting her too much might be disposing of a possible advantage, so now as he strode about the castle grounds, he had her in tow, chirping at him. He nodded and gave her his most charming smiles, but all he would need from her, if anything, was to give her official stamp of approval to the measures he would require as he began setting the realm in order. His order.
Malady pointed to a young man washing a dragon in the courtyard, and Marquette waved his arm in a friendly and only slightly lordly fashion and beckoned for the youth to join them.
“You’re the fellow in charge of the dragons, my niece tells me,” Marquette said, flashing what he thought of as his ‘always-take-an-interest-in-my-people’ smile.
“I am, sir. Toby,” said the other with only a duck of his head to indicate deference. “Taz, my dragon, and I are trying to help them, yes—sir,” he added because he could clearly see that Marquette was someone of importance.
But Marquette wasn’t ready to pull rank. He deferred to Toby as an expert consultant, with seeming respect. He nodded and smiled and gave Toby his most compelling gaze as he nodded to convey his understanding that Toby and Taz were only trying to do what was best for the dragons.
Finally, he pronounced his solution to the quandary the lad described. “Well, then, it would be ever so helpful, it seems to me, if we could move them into one location we could make their headquarters—Dragon Central, if you will. Also, it would make it easier to bring them food and make sure each got some of it than as they are, spread out all over the cities. What would you say the main problems are in reintegrating them?”
“Food, sir. There are quite a lot of them, and Taz has been wearing her wings to nubs trying to hunt for them all.”
Marquette nodded knowingly. “Well, of course. So close to the city, there can’t be enough to feed all these dragons, which are probably the greatest concentration of them in the land.”
“Exactly,” Toby said, clearly glad that someone finally saw the problem wasn’t just the dragons. “Because they were working in the factories, the breeders produced more dragons than Queenston can support under these circumstances.”
“They need to be re-homed somewhere in the countryside, where there are more meat animals, more room to fly, that sort of thing. Is that about right?”
“Yes, sir. Exactly.”
The man clapped Toby on the shoulder. “I’ll get to work on that then, Toby. Between us, I think we can solve this problem.”
“They’re very hungry, sir. Taz has so far talked them out of doing anything violent, but as I said, she’s almost worn out trying to feed them.”
“Leave it to me, son. I have connections in the northern part of your country.”
Toby was very relieved. It had been a great burden on him and especially on Taz to try to keep the unemployed dragons from doing anything foolish and giving some factions the excuse they needed to take deadly measures. Finally someone understood the problem and was ready to take measures to solve it.
Marquette returned the next day and instructed young Toby, saying, “It’s all arranged. If you and your dragon friend will have the others gather in the enclosure that’s being built on the edge of the city, a special train will carry those who can’t fly North to the hunting grounds.”
“That’s wonderful, sir,” Toby said.
“Happy to be of service,” Marquette said with a mock bow.
Malady’s Third Appointment (in which she anticipates Uncle Marq’s Arrival)
Malady Hyde looked uncommonly sour as, forgetting the posture she had learned in post-graduate charm school, she slumped into a chair.
“Dear, dear, what is the matter, Your Highness? I thought you would be excited. In fact, I thought perhaps you would not come to our meeting today.” Malady did not ask why she thought such things. She supposed it was because doctors were supposed to be omniscient but actually, Dr. Hexenbraun took her meals in the kitchen with the servants and so knew all that had once occurred, was currently occurring, and was anticipated to occur in the future.
“I was excited,” Malady said. “But it’s all wrong. Uncle Marquette finally arrived, you see, and he was supposed to bring me gowns and jewels appropriate to my new station. With him here, I thought I wouldn’t need to see you again.”
Dr. Hexenbraun clicked her teeth in a message that, while unclear, generally meant that she was sorry to hear that, or possibly that it was rude of Malady to say so. But she nodded encouragingly, which was just as well since Malady had paid no attention and was continuing in a voice rising to a wail.
“He’s always been my confidante, you know, ever since I attended school in Frostingdung as a child. I even wrote to him about the dragon. But since he’s been here he has all but ignored me! Instead, he has long boring conversations with my other uncles about politics and government and complaining about dragons. He should be taking me shopping! Especially when he had the nerve to show up without the things he promised to bring me. He claims he didn’t forget. His ship sank, he said. My dresses and jewels and shoes and hats and everything were on it. You’d think he could have saved something, wouldn’t you? But nooo… I was so looking forward to his arrival, but he’s so different this time, it’s almost more fun to talk to the dragon. He at least appreciates the important things in life and likes to tell me about his hoard.”
“Perhaps your uncle is feeling the guilt for disappointing you. And also, he may be shaken by having his ship sunk. Perhaps he is different because he knows he has nothing to offer you now…”
“Oh, I know, and he should, but it’s how we were before that I want the most, though that doesn’t let him off the hook to take me shopping for the kind of things he was supposed to bring!”
“You should tell him that it is your relationship with him that you value—I wouldn’t mention the shopping just now. Perhaps he feels he is less important to you now that you are a lady of such rank, such power and authority?”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I was counting on him to advise me how to manage some of it—particularly how to manage the other uncles so they weren’t such sticks in the mud about my spending. But he seems to spend most of his time with them.”
“Then perhaps he could be jealous of your relationship with this dragon, hmm?”
“Do you think so? Uncle Marq? Jealous of a dragon?” She giggled. “That would be priceless! But he doesn’t need to worry. The dragon is—well—a dragon, and he—Uncle Marq—is family.”
“Men can be most insecure. Perhaps you should tell him?”
“And lose the advantage? Really, Doctor H., don’t you know anything? We have taken one walk in the city and he and the dragon boy were talking about what to do with them. I almost told him that since I met Durance. I’ve realized dragons are not all bad, after all, but they were chattering like old friends. Perhaps the next time Durance is curled around the privy tower I will chatter with him and ignore Uncle Marquette. That will teach him to ignore me!”
She flounced out, still giggling, while Dr. Hexenbraun shook her head slowly and replaced her spectacles on her nose.
Chapter 16: Malady and Durance
The sparkle, the glitter, the sheen, the shine, the opulence of crimson and purple velvet, all played hide and seek with the glow of dragon flame. Malady dove into the treasure chests head first, hands scooping.
When she stood up, her arms, ears, neck, head and hands laden with gorgeous jewels, she had no chance to admire them, as the room had fallen quite dark… and silent.
“Dragon? Where are you? I need some light here! And a looking glass—full length. Please?” she added as an a
fterthought. “Dragon? Dragon, come here at once and stop teasing me. I represent the crown in this country—I’m even wearing one.”
The madder she became, the more unwise grew the threats she made if the dragon did not return. Which he did not. Malady tried to remember her way back, but kept bumping her shin on treasure boxes. Then her feet were caught and tangled and she jerked hard. The impediment broke, but she heard the distinct sound of pearls on stone. She was sure they were pearls because they rolled nicely and in a different way than she imagined diamonds would. Stepping forward, she slipped on them as they rolled where she wished to step, and she went down on her bottom. Fortunately, it was well padded by the opulent gown.
She burst into tears that were at first indignant, before she realized that she was somewhere far beneath the castle several stories down, she’d forgotten how many in her excitement to see the hoard. Why, oh why, hadn’t she told anyone where she was going? Well, because she hadn’t known herself, actually. Come to think of it, she still didn’t know. And it was very dark. No windows under here, and she’d failed to realize how much she’d depended on the dragon flame to provide light. Possibly there were torches in wall sconces but what would she light them with? That dratted dragon!
After what seemed like hours and hours, her anger turned to fear, and cold too. She patted the piles of riches until her hands met the velvet garments she had seen briefly, before the dragon left. Wrapping them around her, she huddled amidst invisible treasures and longed for the dragon to return. At first. Then she started wondering if he’d just stepped out to fix himself some sort of sauce he thought would taste good with her.
How could she have been taken in by that story about how dragons didn’t eat people anymore? They bloody well did! She was sure of it. How could she have believed his flattery? Oh, well, because he backed it up with presents, of course. Beautiful, valuable, glittery presents that were absolutely worthless in her current predicament.
“Dragon, you had better come back and lead me back to my chambers, or at least to the main part of the castle. My uncles and the servants will be missing me and coming to look for me with guns and pointy sharp things. They might torture you to say where you’ve hidden me.”
From somewhere distant and echo-y came Dragonish laughter.
“Don’t count on it, pretty, pretty princess. I have heard them talk. They will not know I led you away and if they did, they’d want to reward me. You are not actually very popular, you know.”
“A lot you know! We’re family! They adore me! They say I look just like my mother!”
“Yes, but what you have not heard because they do not say it until you leave the room, is that they didn’t actually care for your mother all that much. Both of you would have made excellent dragons.”
“Is that your dastardly plan, to turn me into a dragon so you can marry me and thus gain power and position in the country through my regency?”
Sparks flew finally and, though the image vanished almost before she saw it, she caught a glimpse of the dragon and a bearing on where he sat, laughing at her.
“Oh, please! Marry you? That would be bestiality, even if I turned you into a dragon, which I cannot do, by the way, because I don’t have the power to shift the shapes of other beings.”
“Yes, but it’s what you want to do, isn’t it? That’s why you brought me presents and gave me compliments, to lure me down here to be your bride in an unnatural union.”
“Er—no.”
“What do you mean ‘no?’” she asked, offended.
“If I take a bride as you call it, a mate, it would be one of my kind, foolish girl. And so I did many, many years ago. But she was killed in what men call the Great War before she could coil around our first clutch of eggs.”
“Very sad, I’m sure,” said Malady. “But nothing to do with me. I’m not a dragon.”
The hiss and clink of scales sliding through jewels brought the dragon’s eyes uncomfortably close to her. “Nooo,” it said in its soft sibilant voice. “But you could be. You have all the right attitudes and instincts. Perhaps you’re a halfling of some sort?”
“I most certainly am not!” she declared.
“Sssss… mmmmmm… well, you’re very dragonlike in your fascination with jewels and gold, and I suspect will make a great hoard guardian, as I have been these many centuries. Now that dragons are out and about, I wish to renew my acquaintance with my kind. Still, the hoard must have a keeper. That is now you.”
“You can’t just leave me!” Malady said, her indignant command emerging as a squeak.
“I rather think I can. You just play with the treasure and I’ll be back… or not, depending on what I find outside. Meanwhile, enjoy gloating over the hoard. Goodbye, Princess. Have a wonderful time.”
Before he slithered away, Malady had the presence of mind to say, “At least leave me some light. If you want to torment me by ironically leaving me nothing but the jewels I admire, at least leave me a light to admire them by.”
Durance the Vile mumbled to himself then finally said. “A candle, then.”
“How about a torch?”
“You might be tempted to desert your post. Besides, candlelight is so flattering to jewels, don’t you find?”
That was about all she could find by the single flame, and that would soon be gone. She wished she’d brought a snack or a jug of water. Surely the dragon must have a source of nourishment and moisture in here somewhere, if this was, as he claimed, his main den or lair or whatever.
She wanted to stamp and shout and throw things but for a time, she tiptoed around, carefully placing her candlestick on a flat smooth surface before moving anything else. Her eyes grew weary of reflected glory.
The entire chamber was eerily quiet except for the candle sputter, though somewhere far in the background was a distant roar that might have been the sea.
Despite her best efforts, she tripped over a long strand of pearls and fell, hitting her head on the stone wall, the pearls broke and rolled in a thousand directions.
She began gathering the pearls. She didn’t see how the dragon could account for every piece of jewelry in the room, but he’d been down here a long time and she didn’t want to risk his wrath if he did return and find something missing, even something so trivial as a pearl.
Rubbing her head with one hand, she tried to pick up yet another pearl with her other, but fumbled and it rolled away. She searched for it where it had rolled against the wall but found only a half pearl. A half pearl? She looked closer. It was caught under something. She flicked it and it rolled back but the secret door it had been caught under slid forward.
Aha! That dragon thought he was so smart. She had found her way out and when she got back to the main part of the castle, she’d order the dragon killed and the treasure—well, she’d decide what to do about the treasure later. Imagine that creature, squatting on the royal treasury and trying to turn her against her uncles!
Propping the secret panel open with a bejeweled sword, she gathered a tasteful assortment of necklaces, bracelets, earrings and both hands full of rings, stuffed her pockets with gold coin and loose gems, and, carrying her precious candlestick, slipped into the passage behind the door. Her candle held out for the first level but then died, and she was forced to feel her way up a step and a set of winding stairs. Two small beams of light ghosted through the darkness on the next level. They came from two cobweb-obscured holes that, once she’d run a finger over them and blew on them, fit her eyes as well as a pair of spectacles.
The passageway was illuminated dimly by the clouded light streaming into it from the eyeholes appearing every thirty feet or so along the corridor. She’d always thought there were far too many gloomy portraits of ugly grim looking ancestors hanging on every surface on every wall in the castle, especially on the interior walls. Where there were occupants in the rooms, she realized she would appear to be the Grand Duchess Morag or the High Sheriff of the Northern Icefields to them. Should they be so obse
rvant as to look into the eyes of the portrait, they’d be in for quite a shock. She wondered if some of the paintings were permanently affixed to the walls so the servants wouldn’t catch on.
Perhaps no one had been in these passageways for a long time, but someone had at some time had need of the eyeholes.
She peered through them, and looked straight into the council chamber.
Uncle Marquette was addressing the council. He was speaking softly for some reason. Whispering. How inconsiderate of him. Who did he think would be listening anyway? One of the ancestral portraits?
Fortunately, she had excellent ears that were good for something other than to support earrings. She heard his plan, though not all of the details, and thought it by and large a good one, as long as they didn’t try to take her dragon. After all, Durance was something of an old family retainer, wasn’t he?
She shrugged it off as they began discussing how to finance the grand fair Uncle Marquette proposed. Budgets were so boring. She was itching—both literally from the dust and bugs and figuratively, from an urgent desire to examine her treasures in better light—to return to her chambers.
It came to her that where there were eyeholes there must also be doorways into the castle rooms from the passageway. Wasn’t there something in the building codes requiring castles to have secret passages and hidden doors and such with adequate access from the royal chambers in case of emergency? It seemed that there must be. Not that she herself had grown up in a castle, but in her posh boarding schools she had met plenty of other girls privileged enough to have done so. She suspected some of them were not nobility or royalty, but probably the children of upper echelon servants, but nonetheless, they talked at times of playing in such places and, as she grew older and talked to more mature classmates, of using such secret places to meet secret friends (none of them dragons) for secret activities.
The Redundant Dragons Page 18
