Chapitre 2: In Which Cimorene Discovers The Value Of A Classical Education And Has Some Unwelcome Visitors
Inside, the hovel was dark and cool and damp.
Cimorene found it a pleasant relief after the hot, dusty road, but she wondered why no sunlight seemed
to be coming through the cracks in the boards. She was still standing just inside the door, waiting for her
eyes to adjust to the dark, when someone said crossly, "Is this that princess we've been waiting for?"
"Why don't you ask her?" said a deep, rumbly voice.
"I'm Princess Cimorene of Linderwall," Cimorene answered politely.
"I was told you could help me."
"Help her?" said the first voice, and Cimorene heard a snort. "I think we should just eat her and be
done with it."
Cimorene began to feel frightened. She wondered whether the voices belonged to ogres or trolls and
whether she could slip out of the hovel before they made up their minds about eating her. She felt
behind her for the door and started in surprise when her fingers touched damp stone instead of dry wood.
Then a third voice said, "Not so fast, Woraug. Let's hear her story first."
So Cimorene took a deep breath and began to explain about the fencing lessons and the magic lessons,
and the Latin and the juggling, and all the other things that weren't considered proper behavior for a
princess, and she told the voices that she had run away from Sathem-by-the-Mountains to keep from
having to marry Prince Therandil.
"And what do you expect us to do about it?" one of the voices asked curiously.
"I don't know," Cimorene said. "Except, of course, that I would rather not be eaten. I can't see who you
are in this dark, you know."
"That can be fixed," said the voice. A moment later, a small ball of light appeared in the air above
Cimorene's head. Cimorene stepped backward very quickly and ran into the wall.
The voices belonged to dragons.
Five of them lay on or sprawled over or curled around the various rocks and columns that filled the huge cave where Cimorene stood. Each of the males (there were three) had two short, stubby, sharplooking horns on either side of their heads; the female dragon had three, one on each side and one in the
center of her forehead. The last dragon was apparently still too young to have made up its mind which
sex it wanted to be; it didn't have any horns at all.
Cimorene felt very frightened. The smallest of the dragons was easily three times as tall as she was,
and they gave an overwhelming impression of shining green scales and sharp silver teeth. They were
much scarier in person than in the pictures she remembered from her natural history books.
She swallowed very hard, wondering whether she really would rather be eaten by a dragon than marry
Therandil.
"Well?" said the three-horned dragon just in front of her. 'Just what are you asking us to do for you?"
"I-" Cimorene stopped short as an idea occurred to her. Cautiously, she asked, "Dragons are… are
fond of princesses, aren't they?"
"Very," said the dragon, and smiled. The smile showed all her teeth, which Cimorene did not find
reassuring.
"That is, I've heard of dragons who have captive princesses to cook for them and-and so on," said
Cimorene, who had very little idea what captive princesses did all day.
The dragon in front of Cimorene nodded. One of the others, a yellowish green in color, shifted
restlessly and said, "Oh, let's just go ahead and eat her. It will save trouble."
Before any of the other dragons could answer, there was a loud, booming noise, and a sixth dragon
slithered into the cave. His scales were more gray than green, and the dragons by the door made way for
him respectfully.
"Kazul!" said the newcomer in a loud voice. "Achoo! Sorry I'm late, but a terrible thing happened on
the way here, achoo!"
"What was it?" said the dragon to whom Cimorene had been talking.
"Ran into a wizard. Achoo! Had to eat him; no help for it. Achoo, achoo. And now look at me!" Every
time the gray-green dragon sneezed, he emitted a small ball of fire that scorched the wall of the cave.
"Calm down, Roxim," said Kazul. "You're only making it worse."
"A choo! Calm down? When I'm having an allergy attack? Achoo, oh, bother, achoo!" said the graygreen dragon. "Somebody give me a handkerchief. A choo!"
"Here," said Cimorene, holding out one of the ones she had brought with her. "Use this." She was
beginning to feel much less frightened, for the gray-green dragon reminded her of her great-uncle, who
was old and rather hard of hearing and of whom she was rather fond.
"What's that?" said Roxim. "Achoo! Oh, hurry up and give it here."
Kazul took the handkerchief from Cimorene, using two claws very delicately, and passed it to Roxim.
The gray-green dragon mopped his streaming eyes and blew his nose. "That's better, I think. Achoo! Oh,
drat!"
The ball of fire that accompanied the dragon's sneeze had reduced the handkerchief to a charred scrap.
Cimorene hastily dug out another one and handed it to Kazul, feeling very glad that she had brought
several spares.
Roxim went through two more handkerchiefs before his sneezing spasms finally stopped. "Much
better," he said. "Now then, who's this that lent me the handkerchiefs? Somebody's new princess, eh?"
"We were just discussing that when you came in," Kazul said, and turned back to Cimorene. "You
were saying? About cooking and so on."
"Couldn't I do that for one of you for a while?" Cimorene said.
The dragon smiled again, and Cimorene swallowed hard. "Possibly.
Why would you want to do that?"
"Because then I wouldn't have to go home and marry Therandil," Cimorene said. "Being a dragon's
princess is a perfectly respectable thing to do, so my parents couldn't complain. And it would be much
more interesting than embroidery and dancing lessons."
Several of the dragons made snorting or choking noises. Cimorene jumped, then decided that they
were laughing.
"This is ridiculous," said a large, bright green dragon on Cimorene's left.
"Why?" asked Kazul.
"A princess volunteering? Out of the question!"
"That's easy for you to say," one of the other dragons grumbled. "You already have a princess. What
about the rest of us?"
"Yes, don't be stuffy, Woraug," said another. "Besides, what else can we do with her?"
"Eat her," suggested the yellowish green dragon in a bored tone.
"No proper princess would come out looking for dragons," Woraug objected.
"Well, I'm not a proper princess, then," Cimorene snapped. "I make cherries jubilee, and I volunteer
for dragons, and I conjugate Latin verbs-or at least I would if anyone would let me. So there!"
"Hear, hear," said the gray-green dragon.
"You see?" Woraug said. "Who would want an improper princess?"
"I would," said Kazul.
"You can't be serious, Kazul," Woraug said irritably. "Why?"
"I like cherries jubilee," Kazul replied, still watching Cimorene.
"And I like the look of her. Besides, the Latin scrolls in my library need cataloguing, and if I can't find
someone who knows a little of the language, I'll have to do it myself."
"Give her a trial run first," a purplish green dragon advised.
Woraug snorted. "Latin and cherries jubilee! And for that you'd take on a black-haired, snippy little-"
"I'll thank you to be polite when you're discussing my princess," Kazul said, and smiled fiercely.
"Nice little gal," Roxim said, nodding approvingly and waving Cimorene's next-to-last handkerchief.
"Got sense. Be good for you, Kazul."
"If that's settled, I'm going to go find a snack," said the yellowish green dragon.
Woraug looked around, but the other dragons seemed to agree with Roxim.
"Oh, very well," Woraug said grumpily. "It's your choice, after all, "It certainly is. Now, Princess, if
you'll come this way, I'll get you settled in."
Cimorene followed Kazul across the cave and down a tunnel. To her relief, the ball of light came with
her. She had the uncomfortable feeling that if she had tried to walk behind Kazul in the dark, she would
have stepped on her tail, which would not have been a good beginning.
Kazul led Cimorene through a long maze of tunnels and finally stopped in another cave. "Here we
are," the dragon said. "You can use the small room over on the right. I believe my last princess left most
of the furnishings behind when she ran off with the knight."
"Thank you," Cimorene said. "When do I start my duties? And what are they, please?"
"You start right away," said Kazul. "I'll want dinner at seven. In the meantime, you can begin sorting
the treasure." The dragon nodded toward a dark opening on the left. "I'm sure some of it needs repairing.
There's at least one suit of armor with the leg off, and some of the cheaper marc swords are probably
getting rusty. The rest of it really ought to be rearranged sensibly. I can never find anything when I want
it."
"What about the library you mentioned?" Cimorene asked.
"We'll see how well you do on the treasure room first," Kazul said.
"The rest of your job I'll explain as we go along. You don't object to learning a little magic, do you?"
"Not at all," said Cimorene.
"Good. It'll make things much easier. Go and wash up, and I'll let you into the treasure room so you
can get started."
Cimorene nodded and went to the room Kazul had told her to use. As she washed her face and hands,
she felt happier than she had in a long time.
She was not going to have to marry Therandil, and sorting a dragon's treasure sounded far more
interesting than dancing or embroidery. She was even going to learn some magic! And her parents
wouldn't worry about her, once they found out where she was. For the first time in her life, Cimorene
was glad she was a princess. She dried her hands and turned to go back into the main cave, wondering
how best to persuade Kazul to help her brush up on her Latin. She didn't want the dragon to be disappointed in her skill.
"Draco, draconem, dracone," she muttered, and her lips curved into a smile. She had always been
rather good at declining nouns. Still smiling, she started forward to begin her new duties.
Cimorene settled in very quickly. She got along well with Kazul and learned her way around the caves
with a minimum of mishaps. Actually, the caves were more like an intricate web of tunnels, connecting
caverns of various shapes and sizes that belonged to individual dragons. It reminded Cimorene of an
underground city with tunnels instead of streets. She had no idea how far the tunnels extended, though
she rather suspected that some of them had been magicked, so that when you walked down them you
went a lot farther than you thought you were going.
Kazul's section of the caves was fairly large. In addition to the kitchen-which was in a large cave near
the exit, so that there wouldn't be a problem with the smoke from the fire-she had a sleeping cavern,
three enormous treasure rooms at the far end of an intricate maze of twisty little passages, two even
more enormous storage rooms for less valuable items, a library, a large, bare cave for eating and visiting
with other dragons, and the set of rooms assigned to Cimorene. All the caves smelled of dragon, a
somewhat musty, smoky, cinnamony smell.
Cimorene's first job was to air them out.
Cimorene's rooms consisted of three small connecting caves, just off Kazul's living cavern. They were
furnished very comfortably in a mixture of styles and periods, and looked just like the guest rooms in
most of the castles Cimorene had visited, only without windows. They were much too small for a dragon
to get inside. When asked, Kazul said that the dwarves had made them in return for a favor, and the
dragon's tone prevented Cimorene from inquiring too closely into just what sort of favor it had been.
By the end of the first week, Cimorene was sure enough of her position to give Kazul a list of things
that she needed in the kitchen. The previous princess-of whom Cimorene was beginning to have a very
poor opinion-had apparently made do with a large skillet with three dents and a wobbly handle, a
wooden mixing bowl with a crack in it, a badly tarnished copper teakettle, and an assortment of
mismatched plates, cups, and silverware, most of them chipped or bent.
Kazul seemed pleased by the request, and the following day Cimorene had everything she had asked
for, except for a few of the more exotic pans and dishes. This made the cooking considerably easier and
gave Cimorene more time to spend studying Latin and sorting treasure. The treasure was just as
disorganized as Kazul had told her, and putting it in order was a major task. It was sometimes hard to
tell whether a ring was enchanted, and Cimorene knew better than to put it on and see.
It might be the sort of useful magic ring that turned you invisible, but it might also be the sort of ring
that turned you into a frog.
Cimorene did the best she could and kept a pile in the corner for things she was not sure about There
was a great deal of treasure to be sorted. Most of it was stacked in one of the innermost caves in a large,
untidy heap of crowns, rings, jewels, swords, and coins, but Cimorene kept finding things in other places
as well, some of them quite unlikely. There was a small helmet under her bed (along with a great deal of
dust), a silver bracelet set with opals on the reading table in the library, and two daggers and a jeweled
ink pot behind the kitchen stove. Cimorene collected them all, along with the other things that were
simply lying around in the halls, and put them back in the storerooms where they belonged, thinking to
herself that dragons were clearly not very tidy creatures.
The first of the knights arrived at the end of the second week.
Cimorene was busy cleaning swords. Kazul had been right about their condition; not only were some
of them rusty, but nearly all of them needed sharpening. She was polishing the last flakes of rust from an
enormous broadsword when she heard someone calling from the mouth of the cave.
Feeling somewhat irritated by the interruption, she rose and, carrying the sword, went to see who it
was.
As she came nearer to the entrance, she was able to make out the words that whoever-it-was was
shouting: "Dragon! Come out and fight! Fight for the Princess Cimorene of Linderwall!"
"Oh, honestly," Cimorene muttered, and quickened her step. "Here, you," she said as she came out into
the sunlight. Then she had to duck as a spear flashed through the air over her head. "Stop that!" she cried. "I'm Princess Cimorene."
"You are?" said a doubtful voice. "Are you sure? I mean-" Cimorene raised her head cautiously and
squinted. It was still fairly early in the morning, and the sun was in back of the person standing outside
the cave, so that it was difficult to see anything but the outline of his figure against the brightness. "Of
course I'm sure," Cimorene said.
"What did you expect, letters of reference? Come around here where I can see who you are, please."
The figure moved sideways, and Cimorene saw that it was a knight in shiny new armor, except for the
legs, where the armor was dusty from walking. Cimorene wondered briefly why he hadn't ridden, but
decided not to ask. The knight's visor was raised, and a few wisps of sandy hair showed above his
handsome face. He was studying her with an expression of worried puzzlement.
"What can I do for you?" Cimorene said after several moments had gone by and the knight still hadn't
said anything.
"Well, um, if you are the Princess Cimorene, I've come to rescue you from the dragon," the knight
said.
Cimorene set the point of the broadsword on the ground and leaned on it as if it were a walking cane.
"I thought that might be it," she said.
"But I'd rather not be rescued, thank you just the same."
"Not be rescued?" The knight's puzzled look deepened. "But princesses always-" "No, they don't,"
Cimorene said firmly, recognizing the beginning of a familiar argument. "And even if I wanted to be
rescued, you're going at it all wrong."
"what?" said the knight, thoroughly taken aback.
"Shouting, 'Come out and fight,' the way you did. No self-respecting dragon is going to answer to a
challenge like that. It sounds like a child's dare. Dragons are very conscious of their dignity, at least all
the ones I've met so far are."
"Oh," said the knight, sounding very crestfallen. "What should I have said?"
"'Stand forth and do battle' is the usual challenge," Cimorene said with authority, remembering her
princess lessons. She had always been more interested in what the knights and dragons were supposed to
say than in memorizing the places where she was supposed to scream. "But the wording doesn't have to
be exact as long as it's suitably formal.
You're new at this, aren't you?"
"Rescuing you was going to be my first big quest," the knight said gloomily. "You're sure you don't
want to be rescued?"
"Quite sure," Cimorene said. "I like living with Kazul."
"You like-" The knight stared at her for a moment. Then his expression cleared and he said, "Of
course! The dragon's enchanted you. I should have thought of that before."
"Kazul has not enchanted me, and I do not want to be rescued by anybody, "Cimorene said, alarmed
by the knight's sudden enthusiasm.
"This place suits me very well. I like polishing swords and cooking cherries jubilee and reading Latin
scrolls. If you don't believe me, ask anyone in Linderwall.
They've been complaining about my un-princesslike behavior for years."
"I did hear something about fencing lessons," the knight said doubtfully, "but knights aren't supposed
to pay attention to that kind of thing.
We're supposed to be above rumors and gossip."
"The fencing lessons were just the beginning," Cimorene assured him.
"So you see why I'm perfectly happy being a dragon's princess."
"Um, yes," said the knight, but he did not look convinced. "Speaking of dragons, where's yours?"
"Kazul's not my dragon," Cimorene said sharply. "I'm her princess.
You'll never have any luck dealing with dragons if you don't get these things straight. She's gone to the
Enchanted Forest on the other side of the mountains to borrow a crepe pan from a witch she knows."
"She's what?" said the knight.
"She's gone to borrow a crepe pan," Cimorene repeated in a louder voice. "Perhaps you'd better have your helmet checked when you get back.
They're not supposed to interfere with your hearing, but sometimes-" "Oh, I heard you," the knight
said. "But what does a dragon want with a crepe pan?"
"She doesn't want it; I do. I found a recipe in the library that I want to try, and the kitchen just isn't
equipped to handle anything but the most ordinary cooking. Kazul will fix that eventually, but for the
time being we have to borrow things like crepe pans and souffle dishes."
"You really do like it here," the knight said wonderingly.
Cimorene refrained from replying that this was what she had been trying to tell him all along and
instead said, "How did you know where I Was?"
"Things get around." The knight waved a hand in a vague manner.
"In fact, I had to hurry to make sure I was the first. Half of the Kingdom of Linderwall and a princess's
hand in marriage is a reward rich enough to tempt a lot of people who wouldn't normally bother with
this sort of thing."
"Father's offered half the kingdom to whoever rescues me?" Cimorene said incredulously. "That's
more than all my sisters' dowries put together"
"It's the usual thing in cases like this," the knight said mildly.
"It would be," Cimorene said in tones of deep disgust. "Well, at least you can go back and tell them I
don't want to be rescued. Maybe that will keep anyone else from coming up here."
"I can't do that!" the knight said. "It's-" "-just not done," Cimorene finished. "I understand perfectly."
She gave him a polite farewell, more because she had been well brought up than because she felt like
being polite, and sent him on his way. Then she went back into the cave and polished the broadsword
until it was mirror-bright, which relieved her feelings a little.
There were two knights the following day, and four more the day after that.
On the fourth day there was only one, but he was exceptionally stubborn, and it took Cimorene nearly
two hours to get rid of him. By then she was thoroughly disgusted and even considered letting Kazul
handle the knights from then on. She could not quite bring herself to do it. The knights would certainly
attack Kazul as soon as they saw her, since that was what they were coming for, and sooner or later
someone would get hurt. Cimorene did not like to think that someone might be hurt trying to rescue her,
particularly since she did not want to be rescued, so with a sigh she decided that she would continue to
handle the knights as long as Kazul would let her.
Prince Therandil showed up at the end of the third week. He was limping a little, as if his metal boots
pinched his toes, and the feathers attached to the top of his helmet sagged badly. He stopped and
carefully struck an impressive pose before issuing the usual challenge.
Cimorene was not in a mood to be impressed. Besides, she could see that his helmet was a different
style from his gold armor and that the armor had gaps at the knees and elbows where it didn't fit together
quite right.
"Aren't you a little slow?" she asked irritably. "There've been eight knights here before you."
"Eight?" the prince said, frowning. "I thought by now there'd have been at least twelve. Perhaps I'd
better come back later."
Cimorene stared at him in surprise. "Why?"
"Well, it would look better," Therandil explained seriously. "There's not much glory in defeating a
dragon that hasn't already beaten ten or fifteen people at least. Sir Gorolax of Mirstwold won't even
consider going after a dragon whose score is less than forty-five. I don't think I want to risk waiting that
long, but eight just doesn't seem like enough."
"You're going to go away and wait until Kazul has defeated fifteen knights before you come back to
rescue me?" Cimorene said. She found Therandil's smug confidence very annoying, but she didn't like to
say so straight out.
"Not if you'd rather be rescued now, of course," Therandil said hastily.
"Though you ought to consider the advantages, and I expect it won't be so very long…" His voice
trailed off, and he looked at her hopefully.
"I'm afraid it will be a very long time," Cimorene said with satisfaction.
"You see, Kazul hasn't defeated any knights at all yet."
"B-b-but I thought you said there'd been eight," Therandil spluttered.
"I said eight of them had come by; I didn't say they'd fought anybody.
I sent them away."
"You sent them away?" Therandil repeated, plainly horrified. "But that's-that's-" "-not done, I know."
Cimorene smiled sweetly "But I've done it. And I intend to go on doing it, so you might as well go home
and warn your friends. They'd feel so foolish, you know, if they came all this way into the mountains to
rescue me and then had to turn around and go back home without doing anything."
"They certainly would? Therandil said indignantly. "What do you mean by playing these kinds of
tricks? Don't you want to be rescued?"
"No," said Cimorene, losing her patience at last, "I don't. And I'm tired of having my work constantly
interrupted. So please go away, and don't come back."
"You can't possibly mean that," Therandil said. "Besides, everyone expects me to rescue you."
"That's your problem," Cimorene told him. "I'm going to go fix dinner.
Good-bye." Before he could say anything else, she turned and ducked back into the cave, hoping the prince wouldn't follow.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone