Dragonscale Leggings

By Freya Pickard

Imagine Bridget Jones meeting Alice in Wonderland.

 

"Written as a journal, there is humour and imagination, an original take on dragons, a fiercely independent female lead, and a playful twist on Arthurian legend." Francis James Franklin

 

Meet Dracomagan who's lost her memory and is travelling in a land where only men can be dragon slayers.

 

Experiencing a fear of wizards (she doesn't know why) and persecuted by the knights of Camelot II (for being a female dragon slayer), Dracomagan romps through a rich and varied landscape.

 

When she ends up in prison with the knights determined to execute her, Dracomagan's only help comes from a retired pirate. Will he be able to reach Merlin before the knights prove she is guilty of crimes she hasn't committed?

 

Fantastical humour with tongue-in-cheek references to fantasy stereotypes, this is one book you HAVE to read before you die!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Freya Pickard
• Release date: Dec 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540158765

Freya Pickard

Pushcart Prize nominee, Freya Pickard, is the quirky, unusual author of The Kaerling series, an epic fantasy set in the strange and wonderful world of Nirunen. A cancer survivor, she writes mainly dark fantasy tales and creates expressive poetry in order to leach the darkness from her soul. Her aim in life is to enchant, entertain and engage with readers through her writing. She finds her inspiration in the ocean, the moors, beautifully written books and vinyl music (particularly heavy metal and rock). She enjoys Hatha Yoga, Bhangra and Yogalates and in her spare time creates water colours and pastel drawings of the worlds in her head.

Book preview

for Alison McLeod

CHAPTER ONE

WASTELAND

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26th June, Mid-Morning

Who am I? Where am I? And what on earth am I doing here in the blazing hot sun outside a cave in the middle of a mountainous wilderness with the decaying carcass of some huge monster? I’m wearing really strange clothes and a green cloak type of thing. This cloak has pockets and in them I’ve found this notebook and pencil and something that makes me want to call it tinder and flint. Notebook is bound in leather with recycled type paper inside. The pencil is thick and stubby. The corpse really stinks. I feel sick.

Lunchtime

On the way to be sick (not sure where I was going, there aren’t any loos round here), I found a white horse. It just stared at me and when I started throwing up behind one of the grey boulders lying around, it trotted off. I lay down for a bit, feeling vulnerable and pathetic. The white horse re-appeared while I was still feeling yuck and looked me up and down as if it knew me. Hauling myself to my feet I staggered over to it and hung onto its neck. It then led me step by step to a little gully where - how wonderful! - there was a stream! Water never tasted so good! Have a splitting headache so am going to sleep in the shade of a rock near the stream.

Teatime?

Headache gone. Stomach churning - perhaps the water was polluted. Feel light-headed. Horse has disappeared again. Sun not so hot. Brains completely scrambled. Am I really myself? I ask this because I am wearing the oddest pair of leggings I’ve ever seen. They look like grey and purple mottled scales. Very odd. I don’t remember buying them. I’m wearing knee-length leather boots, which are making my feet hot. I didn’t buy them either. The T-shirt I’m wearing I bought at a student sale. Aha! So I’m a student! What of and where at? Oh, I feel awful. Thinking makes my brain hurt too much. Am going to lie down again.

Evening – sun is sinking behind gully

Horse has returned. It’s a he. From what I can remember of A Level Biology, I’m pretty certain it’s a he. So, I did A Levels did I? I must have gone on to further education. When I try to think my brain goes blank. In horror I grab my long mane of hair and check its colour. Dark Brown. Always has been. Always will be. I’ve never been a blonde and I’ve not turned into one.

The horse wants me to follow him. He reached down with his mouth and grabbed the green cloak. He didn’t actually bite me but I got a good view of his square, yellowed teeth and I don’t think I’ll argue with him!

Twilight

Wonderful, heaven sent horse! Blessed creature of the fields! He led me back to the cave with that rotting carcass outside and showed me where his saddle and saddle bags were along with a sword, shield and something that looks like a giant potato peeler.  The horse seems to think they’re mine. Anyway, I saddled him - got the girth properly tight once I’d fallen out of the saddle before I’d got in it. I’m sure he was laughing at me. Haven’t saddled a pony, let alone a horse for years. So I did go pony riding at least once then. I got on board and he took me down to the gully where there’s lots of grass and a rowan tree growing. The saddlebags were full of food. I’ve got a water flask - nearly full, half a loaf of flat bread, a bag of wrinkled apples and some dried meat. I threw the meat away, there was something crawling in it! There’s a couple of magpies quarrelling over it now.

27th June, Dawn

Had the oddest dream. I was in a small room with two beds in it and the walls were covered with pictures. There were two girls with me but I couldn’t remember their names. They kept talking to me but their words didn’t make sense.

Horse is an absolute pig. Took my boots off to paddle in the stream (never going to sleep in my boots again - far too uncomfortable) and he pushed me right in! When I asked him what he wanted he high-stepped over to the saddlebags and started nosing at them. Dripping wet, I got up and went over to him. Found some oats in a bag at the bottom. Offered a handful to him and he blew them in my face. Ungrateful wretch! We’re not acknowledging each other exists now.

Mid-Morning

Apples for breakfast must be very healthy but all the bread’s gone and I’m still hungry. The meat I threw away last night is beginning to appeal to me, despite the something squirming in it.

A bit later

No luck. The magpies had eaten it all. Horse still ignoring me. Am going to think hard and try to remember.

Sometime later

I wonder if I’m in Narnia? No. It doesn’t feel right. If I was in Narnia, the horse would talk to me. But Narnia’s ended now hasn’t it? I’m sure I read something as a child that told of Narnia’s ending. Right! I’ve had a childhood! I can remember reading Narnia stories and I’ve been pony riding. I did A Level Biology - whatever that was - and am now at college. What is college? What did I do there?

Getting on for Noon

Cannot remember a thing. Perhaps I have amnesia. Find a doctor to cure me! A doctor, in this place? Where is this place? The sun is far too hot to be England. So I was somewhere called England. Perhaps if I think of other things, I’ll remember more about who I am and where I was and what on earth (or wherever) I am doing here. The sun’s hot enough to be Tatooine (where’s that?) But there’s no sand here. Oh, yes! That’s Star Wars, isn’t it? Doesn’t quite look the place for Darth Vader’s spaceship to loom down out of the sky. Though I suppose every technological world has its wastelands. Waste land. That rings a bell.

Midday

Well, I have now finished all my apples. I must move on, else I’ll starve. I wonder if the horse is talking to me again.

Evening

Have had a very eventful and beneficial afternoon. Horse decided to acknowledge me when I took him the apple cores. He seemed to think that it was a good idea to get moving and took me downstream for several miles until the path divided. The left hand branch went over a little stone bridge and ran to the southeast. The right hand branch curved up into the rocks. The left hand way looked a lot easier but my stomach churned at the sight of it. Horse looked at me over his shoulder, as if I had to make the decision. I chose the right hand way even though it looked pretty rough going. It was. Had to get down and walk.

We came out onto a level path running along a ridge of rock. The path curved a good deal but ran more or less westwards. About mid-afternoon we looked down into a stony valley on our right and saw a cave with a rotting carcass outside it.

Horse! I said sternly. If this is some kind of joke...?

He whickered loudly as if to say that he was surprised as I was. A moment later I saw why he’d made the noise. A figure in clanking armour was hauling a rather large cob-like horse up the steep incline onto the path. Horse and I looked at him in astonishment as he, (no woman would get dressed up like that I’m sure), clambered onto the path, the brown cob panting behind him.

Halt! In the name of Lord Pelles II, I command you, halt! His voice echoed slightly in his helmet.

Lord Pelles? That sounded familiar.

I’m not going anywhere. I pointed out to him. I can’t, you’re in the way.

Madam! He raised his visor and I could see his flushed face, dripping with sweat. Do you know anything about that dead dragon down there?

Oh! A dragon was it?

Might do, I replied.

Madam! What is your name?

I’ve no idea! I told him. I don’t know where I am, or who I am, or what I’m doing here.

He removed his helmet completely to reveal a puffy-cheeked, short-haired, squinty-eyed fellow. He had a pompous air and the design on his shield was of two batons crossed on a blue field.

You don’t know who you are?

YES! I replied very slowly and loudly, in case he was hard of hearing. I DON’T KNOW WHO I AM!

Don’t shout. I can hear you. If you don’t know who you are, perhaps you’d better go and visit the Magi on the Downs. It’s not far.

A shiver shot down my spine. I didn’t know why, but I knew I definitely didn’t want to go the Magi Downs.

But Madam! The knight puffed out his chest. Do you know anything about that dead dragon down there?

I shrugged my shoulders. You shouldn’t do that to your chest, it’s bad for your breathing, I said. And I might have killed the dragon, and then again, I might not.

His jaw dropped open. You killed the dragon?

Horse sidled near the cob.

I might have. I repeated, turning my head to keep the knight in view.

But you’re a woman!

I glanced down at my chest. How remarkable! I commented, looking back at him. At least I’m halfway to working out who I am now! Aren’t you observant?

The cob squealed in fear and side-stepped to the edge of the path. I saw my horse’s teeth near the cob’s flesh and reined him in sharply.

I must go and tell Lord Pelles! The knight cried, placing the helmet back on his head. A female dragon slayer! That’s heresy!

He swung awkwardly into the saddle and kicked the cob into action. Within a few minutes they’d disappeared from sight. I ordered the horse to move on but he refused. When I insisted, he shook his mane and stamped his foot. I leant over and saw a saddle bag in front of the horse. I got down and found he’d bitten through the strap of the bag hanging from the knight’s saddle and inside there were more provisions!

You are a wonderful steed! I told him and hugged him. He looked a bit wild-eyed at that but pleased all the same. I shall call you Tygar! I announced. He snorted and I laughed. There! I said. We both have names now! I am the Dragon Slayer and you are Tygar my trusty steed!

28th June, Dawn

Had a really strange dream last night. Very strange.

I’m dressing in that room full of pictures and put on my new leggings.

They’re nice. Claire said brightly. Where did you get them from?

The market. I replied, pulling a purple tie-dye T-shirt over my head. They were the last pair there!

Nice colours! Abigail, rolled her ‘r’s as only the Cornish can do.

They’re my dragonscale leggings. I told them.

They looked at each other with an ‘Oh, dear, she’s off again’ look.

And I think I’ll go and fight a dragon today!

Why not?! They said. We’ve got teaching practice. See you this evening!

I think I’m missing something but it hurts my brain to think about it too much.

Can’t get the hang of this tinder and flint thing. Got some bits of stick together from some thorn bushes but I can’t get it to light. Doesn’t matter too much though. I’ve got dried fruits and a mixture of nuts as well as some more of that black flat bread. Tygar is feasting on apples this morning as he ate all the grass here last night. I shall fill the water flask up from the tiny stream before we move on. Have examined the giant potato peeler by the morning light and have found some chunks of smelly meat and bloodstains on the jagged edges. Perhaps I did kill the dragon after all! It feels quite exciting to be a Dragon Slayer. The decaying meat still makes me feel sick though and I’ve cleaned the blade as best as I can.

Have been pondering Lord Pelles. I’m sure Pelles is a name relating to King Arthur. But where on earth did I learn about King Arthur?

Sunset

There is an end to this wasteland! We’re camped on the edge of it - Tygar and I. All day long we’ve followed the winding path through featureless, grey rock. And now, at last we’re in another gully, full of grass and flowers and there’s a fast flowing stream running south. It smells of damp earth and sun-baked grass. Tygar is happily tearing up great mouthfuls of the greenery. I’ve got a niggling thought that says to me ‘colic’ but I don’t understand what it means. I think Tygar knows what he’s doing. It’s wonderful to be lying on this thick, springy grass after a couple of days jolting around on Tygar’s back. He’s not exactly rider-friendly, though he does stop when I tell him to. It’s not much fun having a cold supper again but this tinder and flint will not work. It’s strange, because I remember making it work once! But when or where will not come to mind. I also remember having hot suppers in the evenings in that place I was before. Something called chips. What are chips?

29th June, Dawn

Over breakfast I’ve been pondering on how I know what date it is. Something important must have been going to happen on the 26th June. But what was it? Something to do with writing I think. Something to do with an essay? What’s an essay? Essay. College. Bother! It was probably a deadline for college and I’ve missed it now. Never mind! Can’t do anything about it. But what am I going to do?

Mid-afternoon

Tygar and I came out of the gully before the air was stifling and found ourselves in a very English scene. At first the land was slightly undulating and covered in fields of sheep and cows. Tygar and I had a wonderful gallop - he seems to delight in scaring other animals. I never knew sheep could run so fast and even the cattle ran off when Tygar started nipping them! Only one cow stood its ground. Though thinking about it, I think it was a ‘he’ because it had very long horns and was extremely large. The bull only stood its ground for a few seconds. Tygar screamed at it and I found myself rising up in the saddle and yelling out a kind of war cry whilst waving one hand above my head. Not quite sure what came over me, but I didn’t feel stupid. It felt quite natural! (I’m seriously starting to worry. I’ve never been like this before).

After the incident with the bull - it took fright by the way and jumped into the river - I noticed a figure running off in a south-easterly direction. Didn’t take any notice of it. No dwellings to be seen for miles. We stayed fairly close to the river and must have covered many miles by mid-afternoon. The land gradually changed to become fairly level and the fields of animals were replaced by fields of crops. It was really lovely to watch the wind blowing through the corn. Tygar cut a swathe through the fields and it was like being in a golden sea! Not long after we found this ford where we’re resting. A path leads westwards from the ford towards a sprinkling of trees that become a forest and beyond that mountains loom. On my side of the ford is a well-defined track leading due east. Another path leads southwards, disappearing into the golden fields.

Tygar has done his usual - well, where do you want to go now? - look at me over his shoulder, so we’ve paused for a while. Someone’s just shouted at me and waved in a friendly fashion from the other side of the river. So, we’re going to cross over and see what this tall, dark-haired, extremely handsome knight wants.

CHAPTER TWO

CEDAR

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Late Afternoon, Merlin’s House

Oh! The knight exclaimed, as Tygar and I crossed the ford. Methinks me was mistaken! Methought you was one of my brethren!

You what? I asked him, wondering if he was a religious knight. (How did I know Brethren were religious?)

"Methinks me does not know you! Methinks me has never seen a woman knight