Page 25 of The Dragon Queen #3

“There’s no need to stand on ceremony, Master Roland,” I said, rushing forward to take his hands. Roland jerked them back, holding them up to show me the mess on his palms. I shrank back instinctively, then found myself smiling. “Though perhaps we could dispense with handshakes?”

“Of course, High?—”

“Just Pippin will do,” I assured him.

The man’s eyes flicked around as if looking for palace guards. When he was assured no one would enforce the use of my title, he let out a breath.

“So, how may I be of service?” He nodded to the skin he was working on. “I’m working about as fast as I can, tanning leather to make boots for the king’s army.”

“You might have a more important contract to fulfil,” Ged replied. “You remember that compass you made me?”

“For the price of a couple of coppers rather than the whole pieces of gold they charge up the hill.” Roland nodded vaguely in the direction of the more well-heeled part of town. “I remember just fine. ”

“Well, the king wants about as many as you can make, Da,” Ged said.

“Compasses?”

“Gimbals, actually.” He pulled out the example he’d shown the lot of us from his satchel and then held it out. “You saw that explosive the king dropped yesterday?”

“Did I?” Roland frowned as he looked at the compass. “The whole damn city saw that, or heard word of it. That explosion gave me a start, thinking the boiler had exploded.”

“Well, if we’re to use similar explosives against Harlston, we need a means to transport the pots without blowing us up first. Stuff is terribly volatile.”

“And you need a mechanism to carry it without rocking back and forth in response to the movements of the dragons.”

Roland seemed to come to life then, his focus narrowing down on the compass and the gimbal. “Bit like when they transport blasting powder.” His eyes met Ged’s. “Can’t transport the stuff strung from ropes between two dragons, like they do when carting blasting powder via donkey?”

“Dragons ain’t no donkeys, Da,” Ged replied.

“No, I figured they’d be smarter than that, though perhaps that’s the problem.” Roland frowned as he crossed his arms. “So how exactly did you see a gimbal being useful?”

“From what I saw…” I paused. “Read, the queen’s riders used to use gimbals as a buffer between a bar that the dragons could grip and the explosive. The bar and the gimbal swayed, but not the pot.”

“Saw, hmm…?” Roland’s keen ears missed nothing. “Then perhaps you could draw me this mechanism you’re describing, though…” He glanced back at the near empty tannery as if remembering it existed. “I’m not sure how I’ll be of any help. Most of my lads have run off to become soldiers, fired up by the king’s display. What the hell they think they’re gonna wear on their feet, I don’t know.”

“Is a lack of workers your only obstacle?” I asked.

“Fit ones, strong ones,” Roland told me. “And ones with nimble fingers if we’re gonna do fine work like the gyroscope inside the gimbal.” He shook his head. “That kind of work would’ve been beyond my lads anyway.” He shot a sidelong look at his son. “Reckon you can requisition some of those snooty ‘artisans’ from the gold workers’ district?” I noted Roland’s square teeth as he began to smile. “Job might be a bit beneath them, but they know their way around something delicate.”

“Delicate…”

I looked down at my own hands and remembered the way I’d been forced to contort them as I stitched finer and finer items. The older I got it seemed, the smaller stitches were required, almost to make the hand of the seamstress disappear and make it look like the decorations just sprang into existence spontaneously.

“Would the construction of a gyroscope require a great deal of strength?” I asked.

“Not especially.” Roland looked me up and down. “You’ve obviously got an idea. Not sure where you would find workers like that at short notice. Everyone’s down men since the king’s recruiters started offering good coin for soldiering.”

But there were some citizens of the city who could never sign up to serve in the army.

Landing on the keep’s roof was a relief I hadn’t expected to feel. It was familiar, evoked a simple, easier time, though it hadn’t felt like it the first time I came here. I was sliding out of Cloudy’s saddle the minute his claws touched the stones, Glimmer flying down to join me.

“Wait, Pip…” Ged looked around as if to see if we had an audience. “Highness, where the hell are you off to? There’s no tannery at the keep. We buy the leather we need.”

“Strong, resilient, tough enough to deal with the Royal Riders,” I said, taking a step towards the stairs that led down into the keep. “And with nimble fingers that are used to serving meals or cooking, but with less riders in the keep…”

“The serving women?” Ged shook his head. “You want to take women from the keep down to bloody Cheapside? ”

“I want to ask them if they’d be interested,” I said. “All the men will be away from the city, and the women…” I paused where I was and Glimmer looked up at me in question. “We need to fill those gaps. I won’t try to force anyone to make leather or help construct gyroscopes, but I think it’s an option we need to look at.”

You do that , Glimmer said. I will go to visit Cynane.

Is that wise? I was moving to stop my dragon without even thinking. A queen doesn’t tolerate another queen in her territory, correct?

I saw then that vision I’d been forced to see, of a queen dragon invading another’s nest. Eggs were crushed and dead dragonlings littered the ground as the females duelled.

This is my territory . She said that with such confidence. Cynane knows this, and we have formed an alliance. While Wyrmpeak contains the only sands fit for hatching eggs, it is neutral territory. Dragons may come and go at will, as long as they have good intentions in their heart. I watched her blink slowly, her focus shifting to Cloudy. I will rise to mate when I am of age. I will bear my own eggs one day. My mother should’ve been the one to teach me about the process, but Zafira has gone.

Where? I wanted to ask.

Cynane is the last queen I can consult with in the flesh , Glimmer continued. I can see the births of so many dragons if I trawl through the memories, but that’s not the same as speaking with a dragon in the flesh.

And with that, she turned and flew down the stairs.

“And where’s the little queen off to?” Ged asked, moving as close as he dared so that if we were discovered we would look like rider and queen, not lovers.

“To talk to Cynane.”

“A broody dragon? Pippin?—!”

“I know.” I held up a hand. “I know. Glimmer seems to think she is in control here because this is her territory.”

It is. We both turned around to see Cloudy climbing to the edge of the keep roof, ready to throw himself off. You look after your mate and I will look after mine.

“Well, it looks like that’s decided,” Ged said, forcing himself to smile. “After you, Highness.”

I wanted to tell him not to use my title, not when we were alone, but we weren’t really. The Royal Riders served the throne, helped keep the king in power, and I would never do that by riding into battle. My job was to stand by Draven’s side and become the queen he needed, so that’s what I would do.

“Highness!”

I hated the way everyone stopped what they were doing as I walked into the keep kitchen. Meat still sizzled in frypans, pots still bubbled furiously as they cooked the evening meal.

“Your Highness,” the head cook said, moving forward and curtseying. “We didn’t know you were coming. Is there something we can do for you?”

“In a way, yes. Ladies, I have a proposal for you.” I glanced around the kitchen. “Some of you. I do not wish to strip key staff from the keep. My assumption is that after so many riders… defected to Harlston.”

“Turned traitor, you mean.” Nancy curled her lip, then spat on the floor. “I’m from Harlston myself, and you wouldn’t see me sneaking out of the keep to go back to that place.”

“With dragon eggs, of all things,” the cook said with a shake of her head. “We have got too many hands to keep busy. What did you have in mind, Highness?”

This.

It took longer to get back to Cheapside with us all walking, but I did so in the company of many women. Word had gotten around quickly of what I intended to do and quite a few ladies had decided to give making gyroscopes a go, but it wasn’t that which lightened my heart. It was the soft rifle of the breeze through my hair, the happy chatter as we got closer and closer, but most importantly, I felt like I was actually doing something. Draven might mobilise the city’s men to get our dragon eggs back, but I could perhaps do the same with the women.

“This feels good, Pip—” Maggie said, then slapped a hand over her mouth .

“Highness,” Nancy corrected with a sharp elbow to the other woman’s ribs. “Or is it Majesty?”

“It’s just Pippin. I’m fairly sure a war doesn’t care about rank or title, just who has the best weapons,” I replied. “We’ll make sure our men have them.”

“Do you have nose plugs to go with them?” another woman asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Cheapside is known for being… strongly perfumed.”

“Smells like a latrine well past being dug over, you mean,” Ged said, nodding her way. The ladies reacted in a flurry of smiles and blushes at his input, but he barely seemed to notice, marching on. “It’s worse at my da’s tannery. Brains rotting and piss, that’s what it stinks like.” He shot them a sidelong look. “Last chance to drop out, ladies.”

A few of the women paled, looking around and taking in the chaos of Cheapside before being forced to step sideways abruptly as a woman from the top floor of a sagging tenement dropped a bucket of stinking liquid out onto the street. To the women’s credit, none went scrambling back to the keep, not even when we marched into the tannery.

“Women?” Roland asked, shaking his head. “You brought me women?”

“You need to make gyroscopes rapidly and the work doesn’t require a man’s strength, but a woman’s nimble fingers and attention to detail,” I replied. “So, I found the one group that will not desert you to become soldiers.”

“I dunno.” Maggie put a hand on her hip as she surveyed the tannery. “Right now, a nice clean uniform and the king’s coin seems like a better idea than working here.”

“You think you can make weapons, girl?” Roland snapped.

“I reckon I can try.” Something dangerous glittered in her eyes. “I’ve got a man who’s a rider.” There were mutters at that as no rider was supposed to form long term relationships. The king had to rely on having their absolute loyalty. “I’d do anything to make sure he comes back safe, including making gyro thingies. ”

“Jewellers,” Roland growled, fixing his son in his sights. “I asked for jewellers.”

“The gold smithing guild sends their regards.” Ged grinned at his father. “And you and me both know that they’ll take a gods damn age making just one gimbal, where we’ll have made hundreds in the same span of time. The girls have got little hands, clever ones, so how about putting them to work?”

“I’m not above making this a royal decree…” I said, oh-so casually.

Roland let out a long sigh, then turned back to the women.

“Alright, ladies, gather round, because I won’t be repeating myself…”

I clustered closer along with all the other ladies and watched him work.