To Lure a Dragon
Chapter 11
If I was naming the chapters, I would call this one 'Adaptation', but since I am not, you'll have to make due with the generic 'Ch.11'.
Alys awoke the next morning far before the sun rose. Her body and mind was still used to sleeping in the cave, and she was immediately disoriented by the chill creeping along her back. The one wool blanket Selendrile had provided for her was far less warm or soft than the furs she had become accustomed to. Upon opening her eyes and panicking for a second as she took in the strange room, she managed to calm herself with a few deep breaths. The coldness was just another reminder than he had left her alone in the strange world, and in her bitterness, she relished it. It reminded her of life before the comforts he had given her, and she could almost imagine that the golden dragon had never existed at all. She closed her eyes, snuggling under the blanket the best she could. If she was lying flat, it didn't cover her from head to foot, so she curled into fetal position.
Cheek rubbing against the wool as she shifted, Alys finally noticed something strange about the cloth. Instead of it being scratchy against her face, it was smooth and cool, gliding over her delicate skin like a caress. She opened her eyes and frowned, sitting up and letting the blanket pool around her waist. In the dim light from the dying fire, she could see the sharp golden color of a dragon head surrounded by a splash of red. Somehow, a scrap of the robe she had been wearing a little more than twenty-four hours ago had attached itself to the prickles of the cloth. Alys's eyes drew closer together in a sad frown. She ran her hands over the tattered piece of silk, reverently touching the depiction of his face. A tear dropped from the corner of her eyelashes, trailing down the curves of her cheek. She grabbed the silk, gathering it into a fist and crumpling the fragile material. She couldn't help but hate and blame that robe for all her problems.
She moved to toss the tattered scrap into the fire, and gleefully watch it burn, but at the last second her fingers refused to let go. Alys gathered her knees to her chest and stared at her fist. She felt exhausted – the kind of mental tiredness that doesn't go away with sleep. With quick fingers, she pulled the money bag out of her shirt and stuffed the silk depiction of a dragon into. She couldn't look at it, but she also couldn't get rid of it. Without clanking together the coins, she stuffed the small bag back between her bound breasts. Her treasures were now as safe as she could make them, resting next to her heart.
With a yawn, she stood up and began the morning chores. She wasn't familiar with this house, but she did know what needed to be done in the morning. Before doing that, however, she needed to pee. Alys gathered her blanket around her and wandered out the front door. She circled around the house, instinctively knowing the outhouse was probably in the back. The sun was starting to lighten the sky, and as she rounded the house, she breathed in the cool, crisp air. In the days before Selendrile, she had loved the peacefulness of the dawn. No one was awake, and it was like she was the only one in the world. Her breath puffed in small clouds and the cold air bit at her nose. She felt alive and vital, a swallowing sense of peace expending from her center. The effect lasted only a second, but it was long enough to remind her how life should be.
Alys scrambled through the snow, finding the well-trodden path to the outhouse. She did her business quickly, unable to block out the smell of other peoples' waste despite the helpful fact it was half frozen. That was one thing she hadn't missed about living in humanity – the stench. When she was finished and far enough away, she took a deep breath and wiped her hands against her pants. A year ago, it wouldn't have phased her, but right now she felt somewhat dirty and wished she could take a bath. Who knew how nice cleanliness felt? She barely even noticed her feelings towards Selendrile had morphed from extreme bitterness into something akin to nostalgia.
The moment she walked back into the house, she immediately felt the difference in the air. The atmosphere was tense, and Alys immediately felt unwelcomed. Both Lora and her husband were awake, the woman was moving around the hearth, kneading bread and starting to prepare the daily meals, while the husband was sitting insolently at the table drinking something steaming in a cup. A lump of day old bread was clutched in one of his hands, and he was watching his wife go about her duties.
"Feed the lad," he grunted, shoving a piece of his breakfast into his mouth.
Lora swung around, cleaning her hands on her apron. She rummaged through a burlap sack on the table, one similar to the one Selendrile used to horde her own food, and pulled out a hunk of bread. Alys smiled her appreciation, breaking off an even smaller chunk once Lora's back was turned once more and shoved the excess back into the bag. Gnawing on the hard crust, Alys glanced around the room for the water. At home, she had kept a bucket with a ladle around just for drinking, but she couldn't see that here. This new life was sometimes so similar to her old one, she was surprised when one small detail was out of place.
"Send the lad down with the other children," Conrad gave one final order to Lora before departing out the door with loud footsteps and an even louder slam of the door. Immediately, the weight pushing on the room seemed to ease and Alys was able to breathe again.
"Where?" She asked Lora, finally realizing that Conrad's departing words were about her.
"He's in charge of the local militia. Before he took over, they were a hopeless group of men with pitchforks and knives but no real skills. He's been training and practicing with them every day." On the surface, Lora sounded proud of her husband like a dutiful wife should, but Alys could detect an undercurrent of regret and hostility in her words. "The town believes his ideas are revolutionary, especially his idea to start teaching the boys how to fight at a young age."
"You don't think it's a good idea?" Alys asked, getting up from her seat to help knead dough.
"Our town was peaceful and happy. Now we've gotten cocky."
"Does this have anything to do with the dragon?" Alys blurted out, before she could stop the question from emerging from her lips. She didn't want to talk about dragons anymore, and she really didn't want to bring up the lie she had told the night before. Not only was she not sure she could keep up the pretence of having a brother eaten by a dragon, but Lora might be the only one in the entire town who questioned her story.
"The dragon always protected us," Lora told her with a saddened sigh. "When we couldn't protect ourselves. Now, the men think it would be a great testament to their skills if they could slay it."
"Are they nuts!" Alys breathed, blood running cold. Oh God, what had she done? Had she put Selendrile in danger?
Lora fell silent, lost in thought. However, her motions with the dough turned violent in a way that had nothing to do with mixing the concoction of grains.
"Is there anything you need me to do?" Alys offered once the bread was baking in the dug-out oven over the hearth. "Water? Firewood?"
"We could use both," Lora explained with a weary sigh. "Conrad usually doesn't have time for much work once he gets home, and I…" Lora broke off. "Gorge and Helen, the family next door, help out occasionally," Lora sounded resigned, and Alys knew how accepting the generosity of neighbours impacted one's pride first hand.
"I can go grab some water if you direct me towards a stream," Alys offered. She thought for a second, then added "and a pail."
"Over there," she pointed to a bucket sitting in next to the fire. Lora smiled wanly. "I've been melting snow."
Alys knew first-hand how surprisingly little water came out of a load of snow. She was suddenly overcome by an extreme dislike for this woman's husband. It was obvious that Lora's pregnancy was difficult for her, but Alys didn't know whether she was tired because of the baby, or because of the slave-labour she endured daily. It was normal life, she realized, something she witnessed and experienced every day for the first fifteen years of her life. Two months, a little bit of impromptu education, and the different ideals of a dragon later, and Alys found she actually thought differently than she used to – than most people still did. She didn't know if new standards were a good thing or not, just like it was impossible to tell who was right and who was wrong, but she didn't want to go back to being ignorant. "Where is a water source?" She asked Lora, somewhat harshly with these new realizations swimming around in her head like a bug drowning in a stream.
"Keep walking past the privy and there should be a trail through the woods."
Though the answer was somewhat vague, Alys grabbed the bucket and hurried out the door. She really did like Lora, but the conversation was starting to become a strain. She didn't know these people, but she felt as though she didn't fit in amidst them anymore. The familiar resentment towards Selendrile bubbled up, but she quickly dismissed it. Alys scurried through a field, the snow crunching beneath her boots. The way the cold air punched against her lungs hurt after she spent so much time in the warm caves, but she didn't pay it any heed. In fact, she sped up. By the time she reached the woods, and found the trail exactly where Lora had described it, Alys was sure that what she felt was real and not a paranoia.
Someone was watching her.
As subtly as she could, Alys stopped at the treeline and looked into the barren forest. Though the trees were leafless, mere skeletons of branches and bark, she couldn't see another creature – human or not – hiding in the covering. Turning around, as if to take in the view of the shimmering snow and town resting behind her, Alys then looked back to find no one in that direction either, sheltering her eyes with one arm. Not for the first time, she wondered what was wrong with this town. She hardly ever saw anyone bustling around doing chores, or chatting with neighbours like they were wont in her hometown. With a sigh, she convinced herself that the feeling of eyes following her every move was, in fact, in her head. Alys pushed into the forest, walking along a well-used trail. The branches threw strange shadows around her, and as she moved she was convinced that the sun was moving as well.
Maybe, she realized with a start, it was because she hadn't seen an actual day in a while. Her eyes were still extremely sensitive to the sun. She hadn't realized all the small adaptations she would have to make, her mind had been too focused on the one large one. The woods were making Alys nervous, and she kept having flashbacks to being almost lured into faerydom. That day in the woods had been tantalizing, and she wasn't sure if she would be able to resist without Selendrile's strength by her side. She wanted, oh so badly, to be lured and captivated by the fey, and she supposed in a way she already was.
Suddenly, Alys kicked a tree. Smattering of snow fell on her head, but she paid it now head. Frig, she was wallowing. Her every thought seemed to always go back to him. It was like he was an obsession. She hated him for that.
Picking up speed, even though her breath was already choppy and she could taste blood in every inhale, Alys finally broke through the strip of forest and found herself facing a frozen stream. She may have missed it entirely, if the tracks didn't stop, if the forest hadn't suddenly opened up to show a wide, snow covered expanse of nothing, and if a hole hadn't already been chopped out of the ice. Ok, the only way she would have missed it is if she was too lost in her thoughts to see anything at all, which was distinctly possibly in her state, but other than that the place was obviously a stream.
Alys dropped to her knees, slamming the bucket into the thin film of ice covering the opening to the water. This would be so much easier if there was a well like they had at home. She submerged the bucket into the water, slopping freezing water on the cuffs of her shirt. Alys shivered, fingers going numb within seconds. Carefully, she lifted the pail from the water, starting back towards the house with her heavy load. By the time she walked out of the forest, her fingers were raw, barely holding on to the wood, and she was starting to see the benefits of melting snow little by little. Half the water from the bucket had spilled out when she had tripped over a tree root.
Entering the house this time was like a blast back to the cave. Alys dropped the bucket on the table, less gently than she had intended and caused Lora to jump out of a nap she was taking in one of the hard-backed chairs. "I'm starting to see the benefits of melting water," Alys said crossly.
Lora looked amused, a thin smile pulling at the edges of her lips.
Alys stomped over to the fire, again her heavy movements were more because of the stiff coldness in her legs than true frustration. She warmed her hands against the open flame for a second, remembering how she used to do as many chores as she could without rest, so she could finish quickly. In theory, it would stop her body from relaxing so it was difficult to get started again, and later she would have more time to just sit. Of course, work never seemed to be done. "How can I get some firewood?"
"There's no time," Lora grabbed the hunk of bread Alys had replaced at breakfast and shoved it into her hands. She herded Alys towards the front door, swinging it open and looking up and down the street. "Steven!" She called out to a young boy of around eight. The blond cherub looked over at Lora and the stranger with her with curiousity.
"This the new guy?" He asked, looking up at Alys.
"This is Ellis," Lora explained, and once the child nodded, Alys realized that though she had yet to witness it, gossip got around this town just as quickly as it did at home.
"I'll show him where the training ground is," young Steven offered, immediately catching on to why Lora had called him over. Alys couldn't help but like the child. She followed him out the door, wondering if she was supposed to eat the bread now or later. Within seconds she realized it was a foolish thing to wonder about, especially once Steven spoke again. "Conrad said I'm natural with knives." He boasted.
Alys was pretty sure he didn't mean chopping vegetables either. It was surprising to think of such a small, angelic looking boy to be welding a knife. "That's great," she forced out with an equally fake smile.
"How about you?"
"I dunno," she answered truthfully.
"Here we are," Steven said with a grin. He didn't need to make the announcement, as Alys had already figured it out. The young boys were separated into sections according to skill, she assumed, since the ages seemed to be mingled. Alys paused, feeling that sense of being out of place again. Not only was she a stranger in this town, but she was also a woman. "You're over there with the other pussies." He pointed to a group of hopeless looking children, most probably sickly and on death's door.
"Excuse me?" Alys screeched, disturbed to hear such a foul word coming out of this child's mouth.
"They're the wimps who can't fight worth a damn," Steven explained, scurrying over to his designated area.
Alys hesitated, then joined her group of fellow losers. She was pretty sure she wouldn't be moving up in the ranks any time soon. The boys she joined, all of varying ages but none older than her current age – real age, that was, all eyed her with distrust. "Uhm, hi." She greeted them with a hesitant grimace. "I'm Ellis."
"New meat," a stocky kid with a surprisingly deep voice said. Alys pegged him as the ringleader of this troupe. He hulked up to her, his steps slow, and stretched out his hand for a handshake. Just as Alys was about to offer her own hand back, the guy struck with surprising speed for a fat kid and nailed her in the jaw. Alys stumbled backwards, eyes widening comically and hand coming up to gingerly touch her face.
"Ow," she muttered, and they all snickered.
"New guy's a girl," the ringleader said, witty as always. He turned towards his companions for their input. "Lets get her."
A beanpole of a boy wheezed his agreement.
"Raaaaaaaaaaaawr!" The fat guy growled, opening his arms up wide and running towards Alys at full speed. His run was more of a waddle, and he wasn't nearly so quick with his feet as he was with his hands. She looked at him in surprise, not knowing whether to start laughing now or later. She had enough time to debate the issue, finally side-stepping away at last minute. He twirled, arm connecting with her back with that swiftness again. Alys fell to the side, and as luck would happen, her leg accidentally smacked him in the stomach. Fatso fell to the ground and promptly burst into tears. Alys, beside him in the snow and probably far more bruised, had to bite her lip and look away before she started giggling.
"Ah, new kid is here." A man finally walked into the group and was largely ignored by all his wards. Alys wondered if she would still be called the new kid even if she ended up staying here until she was fifty. "I'm Gorge."
"Neighbour Gorge?" Alys asked, looking up at him from the ground. He was a short rangy man, his body stature somewhat reminding her of Selendrile. Even though he was apparently teaching the losers, she knew not to underestimate him. He had this quality about him that made her think that he could do things with the weapons strapped to his body that would make a warmonger like Conrad cringe away.
"That's right," he boomed, grabbing a knife from a belt on his side and tossing it down to her. "Lets see what you've got."
Alys stared at the knife handle, debating within herself whether she wanted to pick it up or not. She knew that this would lead to a knew chapter in her life, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to open up those particular opportunities for a future. She felt the strong urge to take advantage of this chance she had to learn more than Alys the tinsmith's daughter ever would have been able to. With a hesitant hand she reached towards the wood and steel, and grabbed it.
Then she lunged without a second thought.
©RelenaFanel.July22.2006
And life moves on with Alys. This chapter is wrought with things that are symbolic and/or have meaning for future chapters and previous chapters, and yet at the same time it is hastily put together. I wish it wasn't but I must admit that I wrote it in a few hours, posted it without a read-over, and didn't give the contents as much thought as I should have. Bad me.
Note: I'm sensing some very Mulan-esque scenes coming up. Barring, of course, those with Chang because Alys isn't about to fall for Gorge (Also barring those with musical entertainment, because I can't sing for crap and therefore Alys is not going to burst into random song).