Pool of Radiance - James M. Ward [29]
"Are-are you sure you want me to have these?" asked Shal.
"Sure I'm sure," she said softly. "Besides, customers your size are few and far between." The woman saw Shal bite her lip and quickly blurted, "No offense intended, miss. I'll need to alter this some before you wear it. I mean, you're tall and all, but you've got a trim waistline, and there'll be… other adjustments to make. Isn't that right, young man?" she said, turning to Tarl.
Tarl hadn't taken his eyes off Shal since she had removed the blanket. Now his face burned red, and he grinned sheepishly. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sure you'll need to make some adjustments."
"Fine lotta help you are!" scolded the woman, and she shooed Tarl out into the street, with an admonishment not to come back until she pulled the curtains open again.
The leather tunic and leggings were the softest things Shal had ever felt against her skin. She brushed one sleeve admiringly, and the seamstress cooed proudly, "Genuine chimera leather. It don't come cheap, but it'll last you a lifetime if you treat it right. Now, you stand still, and I'll mark the places that need altering. I'll be able to send you home with these tonight, if you've got eight silvers and a couple of hours."
"I guess I have both and not much choice, regardless." Shal watched the woman as she whisked about her. She was as slender as a praying mantis, and not a muscle marred her silky skin. Just hours ago, my figure was like that, Shal thought. Now I'm nothing but a giant, some kind of freak. I even tower over Tarl, and he must be over six feet tall…
"So, is that cleric your beau?" asked the seamstress nonchalantly, interrupting Shal's thoughts.
"No. Uh… he's a friend… an acquaintance, really."
"His eyes weren't sayin' acquaintance, miss, if you don't mind my sayin' so."
"We just met. He… he healed me. I'd injured my hands, and my clothes were ruined…"
"You aren't exaggerating there. They look as though you burst out of 'em. I'll never understand how they coulda fit in the first place."
Shal didn't know what to say, or indeed whether it was worth explaining to this stranger or not, but she wanted to justify herself, to explain to somebody that she hadn't always looked like this. She told the woman part of her story, leaving out the part about how foolish she had been but explaining how she was magically changed to her current size.
The seamstress looked at her with genuine pity. It's sad enough a woman has to worry about her looks from the day she's born, she thought. This one's prettier than most, but she still feels she has to tell stories to explain her appearance. The seamstress tried to be reassuring. "I haven't seen many women your size in this part of the Realms, miss, but you don't need to apologize about your appearance to anyone. You look healthy as a horse, and you've got a nice face and beautiful hair. Why, you should've seen the look that young cleric was givin' you. There's many a woman who goes through a lifetime without being at the receivin' end of a look like that!"
Shal only felt worse, sensing that the woman's words were prompted by pity. She was certain Tarl's look was either that of a young, rather inexperienced man who'd never seen nearly so much of a woman exposed, or perhaps that of a warrior cleric admiring a person of equal brawn. At any rate, she really didn't want to think about it, so she stood quietly through most of the remainder of the fitting. It wasn't until the seamstress began sewing that she decided to find out if the woman knew anything about Denlor's tower. The seamstress knew of it. She said she'd heard that the old mage had managed to hold on to new territory gained in the northeast corner of Civilized Phlan for several months before finally succumbing to the onslaughts of the creatures attacking from the outside. Shal shivered at the way the local woman said "outside," as if she were