Dragon Skin by G. L. Snodgrass Page B

man wanted my treasure and would do anything to have it.
    Morrell stepped away from the head table and gingerly crept down the stairs to stand next to the skin. Leaning on his staff he gingerly lowered himself to one knee so that he could run his hand along the scales. He lifted the skin to inspect the hide. Fingering and scraping the underside leather. Biting his lip he pondered what lay before him. Finally rising he looked at me, his eyes narrowing as he stared into mine. Turning he addressed the King. “It is genuine, your highness. It is a true Dragon’s Skin.”
    Another gasp erupted from the crowd of onlookers. Each knew this would be a memory to tell their children. They were there when Stephan, the smith’s son displayed the Dragon’s skin.
    “No!” Roland exclaimed. “It cannot be,”
    “You’ve already said that Roland,” the king said. “How boy, tell us how you obtained this.”
    “It is a long story your highness. A story I dread reliving,” I said looking briefly at Brianna. She had finally glanced my way, finally deigned to acknowledge my existence. I smiled to myself. Even she was curious. How had the mere Smith’s son obtained such a wonder?
    “Sire,” Roland said. “It is impossible, No metal can pierce a Dragon’s hide. No Magic can bring it down. Even if the boy found the Dragon already dead, he could not have removed the skin.”
    “Not so Sir Knight,” Morrell said as he moved back to his chair. “We know the ancients did it. We do not know how, but we know that it was done.”
    Roland stared at the Wizard as if he wished to strangle him, preferably slowly, while roasting him over an open fire. It made my insides feel warm and happy to see these two fight, especially over my treasure.
    “Quiet, both of you,” King Ferraught said as he lifted a hand. “Stephan is it?” he asked, his brow narrowing as if trying to remember. Trying to place me in the history of a thousand servants.
    “Yes sir, Stephan Smith. Former apprentice in Your Majesty’s forge.”
    “Well then Stephan, Tell us your tail. For it is only in the telling that we can decide if this is a true Dragon’s Skin.”
    “Of course sire,” I said, smiling on the inside. For it is only through the story that a myth becomes a legend. The story would travel well beyond the location of the skin. If told well it would enhance the value of what lay before me and add to my prize.
    .o0o.
    Brianna
    I watched my uncles eyes narrow. I’d seen that look whenever he wanted something.
    Stephan had changed I thought. While there was no hint of insolence, there was also very little deferment. A sense that he was talking to his betters appeared nowhere in his voice or his story.
    He is a man I realized, in more than size. No longer the young boy I remembered. What had happened to him on his quest? How had it changed him? And had it changed him so much that he no longer cared for me?
    Had there been other women. Even now might a wife and child wait for him?  Glancing quickly at the Hall door I held my breath, expecting to see a young woman with a child on her hip race to his side.
    When nothing happened I let out a breath and sighed to myself. What did it matter? I was betrothed to Roland these last two years. Uncle had demanded it. I would never have Stephan. My world would not allow it. Should I pray that he remain alone all his life, pining for me, his lost love. Did I want him to feel that pain, that lonely abandonment? No I realized, not really. Better that he be happy. At least one of us should.
    Turning I listened to him begin his story. His voice deep and confident. He spoke as someone intimately familiar with the tail. Someone who had been there and done the deeds himself.
    .o0o.
    Stephan
    “Your Majesty,” I began. “It was you who set me on my quest. It is because of you I sought the Dragon’s Skin.” I paused for a moment as the Hall fell into a deep quiet. Letting my audience take in what I’d said. Each person