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The Dreadful Shepherdess (standard:fantasy, 1441 words)
Author: moyaAdded: May 17 2002Views/Reads: 3037/2114Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The dragon scam was going well until the shepherdess got involved. 2nd in Dragontails series.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

“Madam, I had no designs on your sheep, I was just admiring them . . . ”


“Oh yes? Pull the other one, it's got bells on.” 

She raised her cudgel. The dragon tried to breathe some fire, but it was
no use. He was totally out of fuel. Now he regretted expending so much 
firepower over the village. All he could manage was a small puff of 
smoke. 

“Say your prayers, dragon,” growled the shepherdess. The dragon closed
his eyes. 

“Excuse me,” a polite voice broke in, “but do you have a licence?” 

The shepherdess swung round. “Pardon?” 

“You need a licence for dragon-slaying,” said Sir Eustace, who had come
quietly up behind them. “Otherwise, you can't claim the fee.” 

“Bollocks! I can kill anything that's worrying my sheep.” 

“I wasn't, I didn't, I never even mentioned mint sauce,” cried the
dragon. 

“I know you,” said the shepherdess to Sir Eustace. “Aren't you the bloke
that blew up old Muggeweed's pig? He wasn't best pleased.” 

“My contract was to stop it tearing up the landscape,” said Sir Eustace.
“No-one said they wanted it back intact. And they still owe me. Anyway, 
my point is, if you kill the dragon, you do it for nothing. Whereas I, 
as a licensed dragon-killer, can charge a guinea a foot. Surely we can 
work something out, say fifty-fifty?” 

“What do you mean, kill me?” squealed the dragon. “You rotten beast, I
thought you were my friend!” 

The shepherdess looked from one to the other. “I get it. You're in this
together.” 

“They shouldn't have cheated me over the pig,” said Sir Eustace sulkily.


“Tell me something,” said the shepherdess, looking thoughtful. “When you
rescue a maiden from a dragon, you get to marry her, right?” 

“Assuming she's willing. Otherwise there's generally some financial
arrangement.” 

“But if she is willing?” 

“In that case it would be discourteous to refuse.” 

“OK,” said the shepherdess. “Here's what I want you to do. Get it right,
and you can have your dragon back. Otherwise,” an evil smile spread 
slowly across her face, “well, I always fancied a dragonskin handbag.” 

* * * 

After negotiating his fee with the village elders, to his satisfaction
if not theirs, Sir Eustace made his way to the forge, where he found 
the smith idly straightening horseshoes with his bare hands. 

“What can I do for you?” 

“Just need a few dents taken out of my helmet,” said Sir Eustace.
“Visor's sticking a bit. Can't be too careful, fighting dragons..” 

“Ah. You're the one they hired to sort him out?” 

“And rescue the virgin.” 

“Virgin? What virgin?” 

“Well, I think we can safely assume she's a virgin. The shepherdess up
on the hill.” 

“WHAT!” The smith dropped his hammer on his toe. “He's never got
Ferocity Wipstock!” 

“That'll be her,” said Sir Eustace. “Funny name that, for a girl,” he
added. 

“Oh,” said the smith abstractedly, “Her mam and dad called her Felicity,
but they soon saw that was a mistake.” 

“Then we'll get married, I suppose.” 

“You!” The smith stared with a mixture of bewilderment and rage. “What
makes you think you can just come along and marry Ferocity?” 

“Well, it's customary,” said Sir Eustace. “The rescuer always gets first
refusal. She's a well set up lass, if you like them big. And got her 
own flock. A man could do worse. I think it's time I settled down.” 

“Oh, do you?” The smith picked up his heaviest hammer. “You stay right
here, or I'll settle you. If anyone weds our Ferocity it's going to be 
me." 

Glowering, he marched out of the forge and set off up the hill. Sir
Eustace give him a few minutes start, then followed at a safe distance. 
 The battle was in full swing by the time he arrived.. The smith was 
taking mighty swipes with his hammer at the dragon, who was flying 
round him in circles, hissing. Ferocity shouted encouragement from the 
sidelines, while the sheep milled around looking sheepish. As soon as 
the dragon spotted Sir Eustace he flew up into the air. 

“All right,” he shouted. “I've had enough. I give up!” 

“My hero!” Ferocity rushed forward and flung her arms round the neck of
the smith, who promptly collapsed under the weight.  Sir Eustace left 
them to it. 

* * * 

That evening, as they sat by the campfire eating some sausages which Sir
Eustace had had the forethought to buy in the village, the dragon said, 
 “I'm not sure that I'm cut out for this ravaging lark. My nerves are 
shattered.” 

“Well, things didn't go exactly as planned,” said Sir Eustace, “but we
haven't done that badly. At least I remembered to ask for the fee in 
advance this time, and they paid up for the pig job as well.  We won't 
need to try anything else for a while.” 

“It's not that. I don't know if I can trust you anymore. You wanted to
go halves with that dreadful shepherdess!” 

“Don't be daft!” Sir Eustace stared. “I only said that to stop her
braining you. Of course I'm your friend.” 

“Promise?” 

“Knight's honour. Anyway, you're a fine one to talk about trust. You
won't even tell me your name.” 

“You'll laugh,” said the dragon. “Everyone does.” 

“ I won't. Honest” 

“All right. It's Snowdrop. You're laughing!” 

“No I'm not.” Sir Eustace hastily rearranged his face. “It's a very nice
name. Suits you. Anyway,” he added, “I know all about names. In school 
they used to call me Useless.” 

“Oh? I wonder why?” said the dragon. 


   


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