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The Cat, The Dragon and A Rose
This is the first part of an early draft of Chapter One written in 1999.
Every step in rhythm with the beat of her heart, Clarissa sprinted down the narrow, twisting pathway through the forest.
The rushing wind pulled curling red hair free from its bonds and tossed it out behind her like a flag unfurled in the breeze.
She ran for the pure joy of being away from the Manor . . .
A resounding crash ripped Clarissa
from her reverie. A spreading puddle of water soaked the hem of her skirt and her shoes; shards of porcelain dotted the dark
wood floor. She untangled a thorny stem snared in her sleeve, and held it away from her body as if it carried a noxious disease.
"Can't you do anything with out creating a disaster? Look at what you've done to my poor roses."
The Mistress burst out of her chair and surged across the room toward Clarissa like a storm tide breaching the seawall. "You're
useless! You'll never amount to anything. Girls like you never do." Clarissa cringed against the table just vacated
by the huge vase of fresh cut roses.
"You're only good for serving your betters and you don't
even do that very well. In fact, you don't do much of anything right. Now get busy and clean up this mess."
Half listening to the Mistress's continuing tirade Clarissa gathered up pieces of the vase she'd just toppled.
She dropped them next to the dishes on the breakfast tray and sopped up the rest of the water with the soiled breakfast linens.
"Before noon, I want all of my silver shining and my china spotless. I expect tea to be served precisely
on time this afternoon. And don't you dare spill or drop anything when you bring it up. This time you?etter do it properly.
I have very important guests coming, so make sure you are presentable for once. Do you understand me, Clarissa?"
Clarissa nodded her head and bobbed a perfunctory curtsey, before rapidly backing out of the room arms loaded
with the breakfast tray. Her hip jammed against the door frame hard enough to rattle the dishes. She shot an agonized look
heavenward and raced down the hall, the Mistress's admonitions trailing after her.
"Been at
you again, has she?" Cookie asked when the girl burst into the kitchen.
Clarissa nodded her
head. It seemed she did a lot of nodding these days. She'd discovered it was a lot safer to just nod when somebody wanted
something from her.
Sighing, she slumped against the kitchen doorway and plunked the Mistress's
breakfast tray, on the counter next to the scullery sink. Her head drooped as she folded in on herself, arms crossed and
resting on the drain board. She propped her forehead on her wrists and stared at grain patterns in the wood only inches from
her eyes.
"It doesn't matter what I do, I'll never be good enough!" she groaned from
under her elbow. Cookie gave her a sympathetic glance but she didn't notice. "I wish they'd just left me at the cottage
after Meg died. I could have taken care of myself. She was teaching me. It sure would have been better that this. Cats
Paws anyway!"
"Enough of your swearing, my girl. Not language fit for a lady,"
Cookie said. "Five-year-olds can not take care of themselves. You were better off with someone to look after you."
"Ha! I'm no lady. Never will be," Clarissa said. "Just ask anyone. They all think I'm a
useless nobody. I'm only good enough to do the dirty work no one else will stoop to. The only time anybody wants me is when
something nasty needs to be done. They've all treated me like a slave for years. That's never going to change. So why should
I worry about acting like a lady?"
"Things do change and you're old enough to start making
a place in life," Cookie answered. "You can take care of yourself now, but you couldn't back then. Now, that's
enough feeling sorry for yourself. Clear off that tray and go on out for a while. Younglings need fresh air and freedom
now and again. Not that her Ladyship would approve. I'll see that the silver and such shines before time to take up the
tea. Mind you, just make sure you don't lose track of time and miss the serving again. You'll be back to cleaning the cellars
if you do, and there'll be nothing to get you out of it."
"What if she rings for me early?
She'll have me on short rations again if I don't show up immediately."
"No chance of that.
The Mistress'll new dressmaker is due at ten. Once she's waist-deep in satin and brocade, she'll not be looking for the likes
of you. Go on. Clean off that tray and scoot out of here before I change my mind. Farley there can scrub them dishes. He's
been out all morning anyway."
Always ready to take advantage of a few free moments, Clarissa dashed
straight for the forest. She ran at a brisk pace and easily reached the cool shelter of the trees before she was out of breath.
Glad to be quit of the Manor, she shook her head to rid herself of the morning's unpleasant scene, so she
could enjoy her brief freedom. Clarissa slowed her pace a bit, but kept running, enjoying the twists and turns in the path,
and wondering what would appear around each bend. She was far enough into the forest that she felt safe from observation.
Few people ever went near the Wood, let alone deep inside.
Farley, one of the scullery boys, had
gotten interested once. Clarissa, desperately wanting to keep the sanctity of her favorite escape, had pulled him to the
side of the pantry before bed that night. "If nosy little boys get lost in the Wood the dragons will eat them! As scrawny
as you are only two bites and you're gone for good. First the top half," she slashed her hand across his midsection
to show where the first bite would end. "Then the bottom. Cats' Paws anyway, you'd only make an appetizer for one of
them! With those big teeth they won't have to chew you up much. Just chomp once or twice and down you go. You want to stay
in one piece? Just remember what I'm telling you, Farley." She tossed the last over her shoulder as she pushed by him
and walked away, feeling confident that her place of refuge was safe, at least for a while, from invasion by pain-in-the-neck
scullery boys.
It must have been enough to scare him and his little friends off. After that she
noticed they all avoided going anywhere near the Wood during their free time. That suited Clarissa just fine. Now she reveled
in the luxury of being alone and free to do as she pleased. She ran and ran deeper into the Wood that had become her closest
confidante.
"Probably ought to turn back soon," she told some near-by trees. "It
isn't fair to leave Cookie holding the bag if Mistress Ethridge gets her feathers in a ruffle and wants something." She
toyed with the idea of returning to the Manor, but she kept running down the winding path. The branches overhead formed a
cool, shady canopy. Time seemed to stop. The near-hypnotic sensation of her running made her feel as if she were floating
through an endless, twisting tunnel of dim green and brown.
Flashes of light flickered through the
trees in the distance tweaking Clarissa's curiosity. There shouldn't be any clearings around here. She slowed and looked
around as she jogged along the path. I don't think I've been in this part of the Wood before. Then again, just about everywhere
in a forest looks similar to everywhere else in the same forest. It didn't look all that different from what she was used
to, but something about it felt . . . strange.
With no warning she burst through a gently waving curtain
of moss and vines into a blaze of sunlight. She skidded to an abrupt halt. For a few moments her eyes refused to focus
as they tried to defend themselves against the painful brilliance.
"Holy Cats!" Clarissa's
breath jammed up in her throat as her vision cleared and she gazed at the view before her. Her bare, sun-browned toes curled
tightly around a large flat rock. She kneeled, peered over the edge and gasped. The rock was perched on the lip of a sheer
cliff that plunged nearly three hundred feet straight down. A beautiful glade nestled serenely at its foot.
"I had no idea this was here." She sank to a seat on the edge of the rock and, tentatively let her feet dangle
over the side. She wiggled her backside back and forth trying to make the rock wobble. It was solid and didn't move. Clarissa
relaxed.
A cool breeze tickled her toes and toyed with the rough hem of her workskirt. She slouched
back on her elbows and slowly kicked her legs back and forth, content to soak up the warm sun. Clarissa's houghts wandered.
If I hadn't stopped just then, I'd be dragon fodder for sure. Fall that far and there wouldn't be much left to pick up and
bury afterward. Thank all the havens I managed to stop.
She leaned forward and began to survey the small
paradise below. A magnificent splash of deep crimson captured her eye. On the far wall a bank of climbing rose vines clung
tenaciously to the stony slope just above a rippling pool. Hundreds of darkest red roses in all stages of bloom turned the
slope into a riot of color. The vibrant flowers glowed with life. She yearned to caress the enormous velvet petals and cradle
the blossoms in her hands. From across the glade their lovely aroma wafted on the rising air, delicately scenting the entire
area.
"I heard that some roses are magical. If any really are, these are." Clarissa stood
up entranced by the beauty and vibrancy of the blooms. They make the Manor roses look positively drab. The Mistress would
be pea green with envy if she ever saw them. She thinks her roses are the best in the country and hers are just barely starting
to bloom. Cat's Paws! Wouldn't I like to see her shown up! Wonder what makes them grow so well. I guess there could be
something special in that pool. Then again it might be the waterfall."
Across the glade, near the
rose vines, a not-too-large waterfall capered down the cliff, jumping from rock to rock, scattering rainbow gems of mist and
spray every time it landed until it reached its destination in the sheltered pool. So much of the falling water dissipated
as it splashed on the rocks that when it reached the bottom it was no more than a gentle shower - in Clarissa's mind a shower
perfect for bathing. The ripples it made rolled across the pool to tease a tiny sand beach nestled beneath several sheltering
willows.
"What a perfect place!" She longed to slide into the cool water and let it soothe
her dusty, parched skin and nudge the tangles out of her unruly, waist length hair. "I can just see myself swimming
and sunning there. Not much hope for that though! There isn't any way down." Clarissa searched back and forth around
the rim of the cliff for a safe route to the pool. Hidden behind a thick stand of brush, she finally found the entry to an
ancient pathway that had been carved into the side of the cliff. Most of the pathway had crumble, a victim of time and the
elements. "No way down now except to fly!
"A dragon could do it easily. No problem . . . A flat
rock - that one - would make a great landing place. Even looks like it already has talon gouges. Bet dragons landed on it
all the time. Wish one would come along and take me there right now." She laughed at herself.
"Listen
to me. Dragons are just tales for tiny younglings still in nappies." Clarissa laughed again, stretched her arms out
and twirled on her toes as if dancing. "you sure don't hear much laughing going on at the Manor . . . The Manor! Oh!
Holy Cats! Cookie'll scorch my ears. I'm going to miss the serving again."
She raced around the rim
of the glade. As she neared the moss and vine curtain leading to the path she caught glimpses of bright apricot weaving in
and out of the shadows near the edge of the clearing.
"What in blazes?" she paused. "Nooo
. . . I can't be getting distracted. I have to get back now, or I'm going to be stuck in that thrice-blasted cellar for a
week." she hurried on shoving aside the moss and vines blocking her way. The path ran clear and straight in front of
her. She dashed headlong down the trail trying not to let branches and twigs snag her hair and clothes. Elusive flashes
of apricot kept tempting her to leave the path. Her curiosity urged her to follow and investigate. The questions darting
around in her mind raced with her running feet. What in the world could be that color and size? Doesn't seem like any animal
I ever saw. Why do I see it everywhere? Why didn't I ever see anything like it before? Where did it come from? What is
it?
In no time at all she was back at the Manor. "Sure doesn't seem like it took me as long to
get back here." The dressmaker's carriage was still on the side drive. "Maybe I made it in time after all."
When she reached the back kitchen door she noticed a flash of apricot at the corner of the garden hedge. When she turned
to look, it darted under a bush and disappeared.
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