Chicks - Did You Say Chicks Part 17

"The king. He won't promote me to lieutenant unless I 'prove myself by getting him some dragon scales.

You know how it is." Lilire hawked and spat. "Men in charge."

The dragon didn't know, but found herself nodding sympathetically.

"And then there are the men in the army." Lilire spat again. "Military men are pigs, you know? They think any female they see is just dying to bowl over backwards with her legs open for them."

The dragon nodded again. Now that she thought about it, Chaucer seemed to take that att.i.tude. The matter bore exploration. Once this human was gone, at any rate.

"All right then," the dragon said. "If I give you a few scales, will you go away?"

Lilire bared her teeth and the dragon automatically drew back. After a moment she remembered that teeth-baring was a sign of pleasure among humans and she relaxed.

"Happily," Lilire said. She sheathed her sword.

The dragon rubbed her back against the rough stone of the keep, careful to keep her injuries away from the rock. A moment later, she flung a clawful of glittering green scales at Lilire, each one the size of a human hand. They bounced and clattered on the cobblestones. Lilire gathered them up like a child gathering autumn leaves, put them in a large pouch, and thanked the dragon most kindly.

"Before I leave," she said, "may I ask a personal question?"

The dragon narrowed her eyes. She had never talked this much with anyone, let alone a human, but shefound it oddly intriguing. "Ask. I won't promise to answer."

"I couldn't help noticing that you're wounded," Lilire said, clutching the fat pouch at her belt as if she feared it would sprout legs and scamper away. "Badly. How did it happen? Other knights?"

"Other knights," the dragon agreed wearily.

"After your treasure?"

"Yes."

"Creeps. Only things on their minds are gold and s.e.x-and they want gold only because it can buy s.e.x."

"Gold?" The dragon c.o.c.ked her head. "They're after gold? But I don't collect gold."

"Silver, then. Or gems."

"No."

"But all dragons collect treasure, don't they?" Lilire replied, puzzled. "What else could it be?"

The dragon chuckled in spite of herself and some of her pain actually eased. "Dragons collect valuables,"

she said.

"Like what?"

The dragon looked at Lilire for a long moment. She liked this human woman. This woman knew what it was like to be wanted for only one thing.

"Leave your sword and knife," the dragon instructed, "and I'll show you."

"Incredible," Lilire breathed. "And you have more?"

"Rooms full," the dragon said proudly. "Most of them are in the original authors hand."

Lilire shook her head in amazement and went back to staring into the storeroom. Books were everywhere-stacked in the corners, on tables, upside-down, right side up,everywhere. The room smelled sweetly of vellum, parchment, and ink.

"Do you know how much this is worth?" Lilire asked, then caught a look at the dragons face. "Never mind. Stupid question. And this is why these knights keep coming after you?"

"It is," the dragon grimaced. "And frankly, I don't know how long I can hold out. You're the fourth person to... visit in five days, and you know how long it takes your kind to get here. I don't get time to rest and heal between attacks anymore."

"You're getting quite the reputation," Lilire told her. "Bards sing of you all over the country. The mighty dragon and her fantastic h.o.a.rd." The dragon winced.

"Most of those pigs can't even read," Lilire said. "They'd probably rip the bindings apart looking for the bars of gold they're sure you've hidden inside."

The dragon's eyes widened in horror.

"Why aren't they on shelves?" Lilire continued, not noticing the dragon's distress.

"I don't know how to build them," the dragon admitted. "I take human shape once in a while so I can write, and until lately I could dry out the rooms with puffs of hot air to keep mold and rot away, but I'm not much good with human carpentry tools."

"My father was a carpenter," Lilire said wistfully. "He liked books, too." She paused for a long moment, lost in thought. "You know, I think we could solve your problem very easily. We could hide you and your h.o.a.rd where no one would ever think to look. I'll even stay and help, if you like."

The dragon gave her a quizzical glance. "What about becoming a lieutenant?"

Lilire spat again. "I'm really tired of living with pigs."

"That's right," the dragon explained to the man in the long brown robe. "If you ask Lilire, she'll tell you that the dragon and its treasure were just gone when she arrived. Unbelievable, really."

The man nodded appreciatively. "Well, you've both done wonders renovating the keep. And now there's talk of starting a university nearby?"

"Thank you," the dragon said, patting a stray wisp of hair back into the severe bun on the back of her head. "And yes. The distance knights are willing to travel for treasure seems to be nothing compared to the distance scholars will travel for books."

"So true," the man sighed. "So true."

"At any rate," the dragon continued, "the stacks are in the main hall over there. Copy rooms are upstairs, and we're happy to provide parchment, ink, and quills for a modest fee. Ask me or Lilire if you need help finding something."

The man bowed. "Thank you."

"And please remember," the dragon told him severely, "this is not a lending library. Books are never allowed to leave the building under any circ.u.mstances." She gave a feral grin almost too wide for a human mouth. "Violators will be eaten."

"I believe you," the man laughed as he headed for the stacks. "I believe you."

The dragon watched him go with a private smile.

Armor Propre

Jan Stirling & S. M. Stirling

Tenon bit her lower lip and studied her image in the steel mirror. Sighing, she turned sideways to examine her profile.

"That's gorgeous," her companion, Brunea, growled enviously.

"I know," Teri groaned. She turned, tugged at the waist, "It's sooo beautiful."

"It was made for you madam, and the price..."

Both women glared menacingly at the brawny clerk. "If you need me, just call," he excused himself hastily. "I'm Surelle."

"I can't wear this!" Terion exclaimed, tossing her head impatiently. "It's too expensive and too provocative. I'd be making a target of myself." Her eyes filled with regret. "It's magnificent." Longingly, she ran her hands down the sleek sides, "But it's just not me."

"Oooh yes it is." Brunea said firmly. "Sureties right, much as I hate to admit it. This might've been made to your measure. Besides, it'll be good for your career."

Teri shrugged, then grinned slowly. Her career had endured a disastrous slump after she'd slain a wizard she was supposed to be guarding. Now she'd finally made lieutenant and was looking for something special to mark the occasion.

"Y'know what's making this so hard?" she asked. "I've always dreamed of owning something like this."

Teri traced the gold filigree at the neck with a reverent finger. "Ooohhh, I want it!" She laughed.

"Ask your man's opinion," Brunea suggested, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. "Bet he agrees you should have it."

Terion raised her brows over the phrase "your man," knowing that Feric would object to it. But a warm inward glow told her that she approved. She glanced in the mirror at the advancing reflection of her companion-pet wizards-lover, friend.Mine, she thought and smiled.

Feric came towards them, his nose leading the rest of his face like the prow of a s.h.i.+p, dark, unruly hair bobbing with his ungainly walk, fine brown eyes dreaming. He carried in his wiry arms their week's allotment of supplies; so loaded that boxes and parcels looked ready to spill in all directions.

"Well!" Brunea demanded in a bark that made Feric jump. "Whaddaya think?"

Terion turned to face him, her blue eyes s.h.i.+ning.

"That one over there will do just as well," she said quickly, pointing to a dully gleaming breastplate. Shestood straight so that he could get a better look at her. "This one costs a hundredgismore." Her face wore a guilty expression, but her hand stroked yearningly down the glossy armor.

Feric examined her, his lips pursed, eyes narrowed in judgement, highly flattered that she'd seek his counsel about something like this. Teri knew he'd no understanding of armor or its quality. He'd told her as much when she expressed the need for a new breastplate before facing the Duke's forces in battle. He appreciated most of all her willingness to let it go, much as she obviously wanted it, if he agreed they couldn't afford it.

And it was too extravagant, well above the limit they'd set.

Teasing her, he stretched out the moment, examining the beautifully made armor she wore. It was enamelled black, with lapped ta.s.sets falling to the sides, the whole surface heavily scrolled with exquisite gold tracery.

He liked it. The dramatic color set off her red-gold hair and handsome face.

"Well, my love," he watched her color slightly at the endearment, "ifthiscan be had for only a hundred gis more I think you should take it."

Terion laughed and clapped battle scarred hands delightedly.

Brunea leaned over, pinched Feric's cheek and growled, "You're a prize, you are. Even if y'are a wizardling." She winked at Teri. "I'll go hunt up Surelle."

Feric rubbed his cheek.

"Could you ask her to stop doing that?" he whispered. "I'll be able to whistle with my mouth closed if she keeps it up!"

Teri just grinned at him.

"Thank you," she said simply, her eyes glowing with affection. Then with enthusiasm, "Brunea's right, you know. This will help my career. It speaks of confidence and that'll automatically win a bit more respect."

"Because you look so well?" Feric asked, his eyes admiring.

Terion laughed. "Because it says I can hold my own against anybody. Mercenaries make up their kit from armor won on the field, so half the young hot-heads out there will be after me like wasps after honey. The fact I'd dare to wear something like this says I think I'm good enough to keep it." She examined her reflection. "Brunea's right, I'm ready to make that statement."

Terion failed to notice Feric's dawning horror.

"You mean," he asked, appalled, "you'll be in more danger because of this?"

"Love," she said and threw a muscular arm around his slim shoulders, "in this business, more than in any other, timidity doesn't pay.Ithink that what I stand to gain more than outweighs the added risk." She smiled at his worried expression. "Trust me, Feric, I'll profit from this." She looked at herself once more and frowned. "The rest of my kit won't match," she said unhappily. "At the very least I should have black trousers." "Youhave!" he said.

"But they're so shabby."

"Excuse me, we are talking about going to battle here, aren't we? With the usual blood, dust, and gra.s.s-stains, yes? Not a royal tea-am I correct?" Feric thrust his chin out pugnaciously and Teri eyed him in mild surprise.

"If you think we've spent enough," she said mildly, "you've only to say so, dear. There's no need to be sarcastic."

Feric left Terion as quickly as he could and hurried to their spartan quarters.

If I were a cheap, tight-fisted jerk she'd be a great deal safer right now, he thought, miserably, regreting that he lacked such a nature and ignoring the certainty that Teri wouldn't have anything to do with him if he did.Who could have guessed that a little gilt on her armor would make a difference?

You could read by the light in their eyes if you even mentioned gold to most mercenaries, let alone showed it to them. The flash of it on Terion's black armor would bring them running like bees to a honeypot. Large, brawny, aggressive, homicidal bees with things that were sharp, or pointed, or heavy-some of them sharp, pointedandheavy.

She'd never even think of coming to me and asking, "Sweetheart, would you mind very much if I joined this suicide mission?" So how could she imagine he'd knowingly approve of her making a target of herself for the slings and arrows and knives and spears and swords of outraged fortune hunters?Well, I won't have it! he thought.

He dragged his two books of magic out from under the bed and unlocked one with a key he kept around his neck. When he opened the cover the hair on his arms rose from the outflow of power and he s.h.i.+vered slightly.

Feric had been a mere hedge-wizard until Terion stomped into his life and gifted him with these books.

With the books for guidance, Feric had discovered that he'd a great deal more power than he'd ever imagined.

His problem was control. Terion had likened Feric's magicking to "using a ten pound battle-hammer to open a soft-boiled egg." After two or three near disasters they'd both agreed he needed a tutor and to put the books away until they found one. Then he'd given his goat to a neighbor and had followed Terion out of his little village into the wide world.

So he shouldn't be doing this. In fact he felt guilty just looking at the books.

But I'm only looking for something small, he rationalized.A little protection spell to offset her attractive armor. What could possibly go wrong with that? She'd never know. Besides, it was his agreement that had put her in danger. He was obliged to find a way to protect her. Anyway, he'd no intention of living without her if he'd any say in the matter.