Tooth and Claw by Jo Walton Read Free Book Online Page A

Frelt explained, ignoring her denial, knowing all females refused the first time. “If you married me you would be mistress of your own establishment, and you would not have to leave the countryside you love. Parsons’ wives are not forbidden to fly.”
    “I said no,” Selendra said, turning and scurrying away from him up the passage, letting her words drift back to him on the wind of her passage. “I hardly think you know what you are saying, sir. You do not know me and cannot mean to seek my person in marriage. You once loved my sister Berend, I know.”
    “Oh, that was long ago when you were but a dragonet. Before I saw your beauty I loved your sister as the shadow of what you would be.” Frelt was rather proud of this speech, which he had prepared on the way over the mountain, in case she might refer to his earlier wooing. He wished he could deliver it in better circumstances—Selendra was scuttling away from him as fast as she could, and he had difficulty keeping up, so that he almost had to shout, and could not be sure she heard.
    “My answer is no! Please do not bother me further,” Selendra begged, all but crying, running with little leaps of flight whenever the ceiling was high enough. Frelt pursued her as fast as he could, but with bound wings he was at a disadvantage.
    Selendra almost burst into the dining room where her family was gathered, with Frelt still in pursuit. Fortunately her good sense returned to her when she was far enough from him, so she could turn and face him in the broad hallway between the speaking and dining rooms.
    “I am serious, sir, and I mean what I say,” she said. “No, do not come closer, you are a parson and I know you were making me an honest offer and do not mean to ravish me.”
    Ravishing her was closer to Frelt’s thoughts than he would have wished to admit, but he also was calmer after the chase andstopped as he was bidden. “Will you not take a little time to consider?” Frelt asked. “Must I consider my hopes dashed forever?”
    “Yes, yes, forever,” Selendra replied, still in some agitation. “Now go, please, if that was your purpose in coming here.” Again she repeated the rote words of refusal, running them together in her haste to have them said. “I am sensible of the honor you do me but my answer is no. Please believe me, Blessed Frelt.” She put her hand on the door to the dining room. “My brothers are here and I am under their protection.”
    Frelt found himself growling far back in his throat. She had not needed to say that. He was a respectable parson, not some bandit. He forgot for the moment that he had hoped to carry her off and go through formal arrangements later. He even forgot how close he had been to her, and that he might yet have succeeded in his object despite all her denials. He turned around huffily, and before him lay the long downward corridor, and beyond that the long walk home, and once more he was facing it without having partaken of any refreshment.

3
The Sisters’ Vow
     
9. SELENDRA’S COLORING
    A ll three dragons looked up from their beef as Selendra pushed the dining room door open in its arch. It was a sturdy old-fashioned close-fitting wooden door, and it creaked beneath Selendra’s hand. Some say wooden doors are Yargian and therefore abhorrent, lumping them with mantillas, confession, and cooked meat, others say they are simply out of the mode for the time being. Bon Agornin had yielded sufficiently to fashion to remove the door on his speaking room, but he had insisted that tradition must rule so far as concerned his dining room. The siblings therefore had the protection and warning a door affords, and prepared themselves to greet their sister and, as they still imagined, the Blessed Frelt.
    Selendra came in in some confusion. At one moment she was flushed almost pink, at the next, she went pale, paler even than Haner’s accustomed delicate gold. She closed the door behind her and stood a moment with her tail to