“People are fickle,” he announces, slurring the words through bruised lips. I’m a little frightened. It’s hard to tell that the blood-stained scarecrow across the cell from me is even a man anymore. I inch away a bit.
“What makes you say that?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. I fail. Am I really so afraid to be in this place with this man? Slowly I lower myself to sitting on my haunches in the furthest corner from where he is chained. A slight smile splits the filth on his lips before words do.
“Would you believe I used to be a great knight?” He makes a dry crackling sound which I take to be a laugh.
I nod slightly, warily, wondering if this man has some sort of disease that I should know about. I hesitate, but: “It seems hard to believe, but we all must come from somewhere.” I pause again. I want to seem genial. Better to have him on my side that not. “Your tale may whittle away the time.”
He stands a little taller, the chains clinking slightly that hold him upright against the walls. He takes a deep breath, and piercing eyes meet mine. I’m a little taken aback, but then he speaks, not in his dry rasping voice, but in a clear strong baritone.
There was a time (he begins), when there was a rather large and vicious dragon, really a violent sort, roaming about the land, destroying and burning and eating maidens left and right. The duke’s men were sure that they could defeat this monstrosity and restore peace and harmony to the land, while earning fame and fortunes for themselves. They took it upon themselves to slay this dragon, but their shiny armor and fine weapons only served to toast them further when their prey issued its fire, reducing them to somewhat charred heaps of smoldering metal. I’m told the smell is like that of roast chicken, with a bit more tang. In any case, when the duke’s men who dared go never returned, the rest of his chosen warriors mysteriously disappeared. Left like this, with the dragon pillaging and devouring its way toward his castle, the duke whose land it was decimating had no other choice than to ransom his most prized possession to the man who could slay the dragon.
I have always traveled around, ever since I finished suckling at my mother’s breast. There is a grim sadness in constantly being alone and never having a bed of one’s own, but I grew strong quickly and could fight for money. Sometimes it was for contest, sometimes it was for the protection of my patron, sometimes it was for my own pleasure. Nothing quite drives away loneliness like a large cheering crowd and a couple of soft girls to warm one’s bed at night.
Maybe a week before the appearance of the dragon, I had been hired to fight a contest in the castle of this duke to celebrate the twenty-fifth year of his reign. My sponsor promised to reward me richly if I won; the penalty for losing, of course, was likely to be death. I agreed readily. This would be an excellent opportunity to display prowess and to test my mettle.
It was to be a contest of arms. On the day of this contest, the duke himself came to our barracks, holding his daughter by the hand, radiant and ethereal in the dirty duskiness of the barracks. The duke gave a rousing speech and promised a kiss from his daughter to the winner. I heard only that, for I had already fallen too deeply in love.
Needless to say, I fought furiously for that single kiss. I felt that I was on air, undefeatable, and apparently this was true, for I won. Despite my gory hands and stained cheeks, the duke’s daughter bravely strode forward, and, without even steeling herself, pressed her delicate lips to my cheek, grasped my hand and pulling it up into the air, declaring me the winner. The crowd was screaming, but all I could feel was her hand.
Let it be known that my sponsor was true to his word and showered me with comforts aplenty. There was food and wine and medicine for my wounds and lice-free beds and girls, but all I could think of was the duke’s daughter.
As these rather pleasant days were passing for me, full of daydreams and luxury, the dragon had emerged from its lair and started laying waste to the countryside. Little did I know that this would be the opportunity that I had been waiting for.
At first, it was only rumors. Knights would go out to fight a monster and not come back. A few dirty peasants would wander into the castle, frightened and ragged. Prices for vegetables went up.
No, it was when the terrified remnants of towns, startlingly lacking most of their young women, set up a makeshift camp outside the walls of the castle. They begged the duke to help them, and we realized with a start these rumors were true. Their numbers and volatility started to increase exponentially. Sometimes there were several dragons, sometimes this was heavenly punishment, sometimes the world was coming to an end. In any case, it needed to be stopped.
The duke decided to offer the hand of his daughter, the person dearest to him, to the man who could slay the dragon. This practice was ancient, but not unheard of in these modern times. Upon learning this, I offered my services immediately. If I could slay the dragon, that beautiful creature that I desperately adored would be mine to love forever.
The duke accepted, and this is when I first went off to slay the dragon.
I am yawning, but stop abruptly when I see the dirty look being shot my way. “So,” I respond quickly, “you’re in jail because you ran away from the dragon after promising to slay it?”
His glare darkens, and I quickly rescind my remark. “I mean, you beat the dragon?”
“Well, I’m still alive, aren’t I?” he spits, a little disgusted with me.
I nod hurriedly, though I am wondering how alive he is really is. But how am I so different? Same as him, I only have so much time left.
“No, I beat that dragon soundly,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “It was quite valiant, if I do say so. It was belching fire and hissing smoke and all that, and a great deal larger than me. But the duke’s daughter seemed more important than my life at the time. Ah, the follies of love.”
I lean forward, ready to listen again. He seems to nod, and takes his opportunities where he sees them.
After the duke accepted my bid to slay the dragon, I headed off to where the most recent peasants had fled. I felt like a fish swimming upstream.
Logic prevailed. The dragon had taken up residency not in a typical cave, but in the stone keep of the small castle of this duchy. The town surrounding had been obliterated, and was mostly smoking rubble. Everything was as silent as death, except for an eerie sound like a thousand maidens crying.
I approached in the night. Though many say dragons have excellent night vision, the only time theirs is better than ours is when they have a moving target. Even if the dragon saw me, if I froze in place, I seemed to him to nearly vanish. I hoped with all my heart that he would not consider the possibility of trying to singe me with that breath of his while I was immobile.
I picked my way through the debris of the town, praying for the clouds to keep cover over the moon. My goal was not to slay the dragon yet, but to scout out the circumstances the dragon was in, or to see if perhaps he had any weak points. I did not think that luck would be with me in this, but it didn’t hurt to try, yet.
I made it unseen to the castle. The wall seemed unscalable. It was marred by fire, the stones barely standing on top of each other. Making my way slowly around it, I realized that most of the wooden support beams in the keep had been destroyed or weakened by the flames. With a plan in mind, I sneaked back to my saddled horse, rode away a few miles to where I felt I would not be bothered by any wandering dragons, pulled out my bedroll, and slept the rest of the night away, assured of victory.
The next day when the sun was bright, I started back towards the castle. Every child knows that a dragon hunts at daybreak or sunset, so I was not worried.
Almost boldly this time, I strode up to the keep with thick ropes and, as quietly as I could, started winding them around the fire-molested support beams of the keep. I tied each noose tightly, because my plan depended on the strength of the rope and the knots. When I knew that I had done enough, I started towards the belly of the keep, sure the dragon would be there.
I am actually listening intently now. Perhaps he should have been a bard instead of a fighter.
“And?” I demand. “Was the dragon there?”
He smiles through bloody teeth and I don’t even cringe by now. “Of course. I always had very good warrior’s instinct.” I realize he is speaking about himself in past tense. “In actuality, dragons stink like charcoal, sulfur, and charred flesh.” He inclines his head knowingly.
“Well, what happened? Did you get it then?” I move a little closer.
He sighs deeply and nods, his eyes seeing far beyond the dank walls of the cell.
Black lizard skin greeted me first, the hindquarters of the beast, and a rolling, endless tail wrapped around itself. My goal was the neck.
Dragging the rope, hoping it would be taut enough, I moved forward, circling around the creature. It was radiating heat like a huge furnace. I wondered how many demons it had devoured to create the fire of hell inside it.
Keeping my eyes on the dragon was easy. It was getting my heart not to pound that was more difficult. Despite their mediocre vision, dragons have a keen sense of smell, and something as strong as sweat could easily trigger a reaction.
But the dragon didn’t move. I eased my way up to his long slender neck, his head resting on huge claws. Blood stained what might be considered lips, and the torn dress of a maiden, pierced on a fang, fluttered in the slight breeze of his breath like a tormented ghost. Grimacing, I brought the rope to his neck, slipping it around and around. My breath I held, praying to God to save me, something I seem to only do when I am in desperate circumstances. But God listened, and the dragon did not wake. I tied the end of the rope off and started backing away slowly, and the dragon did not wake. I turned and started toward the exit to make my escape, and the dragon did not wake.
And suddenly there was a desperate cry of a maiden, and the dragon waked.
Huge orange eyes greeted me with slanted pupils, nothing at all like worry in them. I held my breath and did not move and prayed a little harder.
I had not seen the captured girls the dragon had saved for supper trapped in a balcony room above us. I had only been looking at my foe. Now, if the dragon moved and destroyed the support beams of the keep, all of these nice young girls would surely perish with him.
The dragon eyed me for a moment, pondering his decision, and seemed as if he were about to go back to sleep, until a piercing cry from above rang throughout the chamber: “Please, for the love of God, save us!”
Perhaps the pitch of this plea angered the dragon, for he started moving. This left me very little time to save the girls, and more importantly, save myself.
Ignoring my bodily safety for a moment, I spun around searching for the stairs to the room where the girls were. After a moment, I found them and flew up them, taking three or four at a time. Heavy rubble had, of course, been placed in front of the door to keep them from escaping. Using all my strength, I started shoving aside pieces of castle and town to get through.
By this time the dragon was sure that something was up. He was looking around at the commotion, and noticed the rope tied around his neck. Every time he moved I could feel the walls of the keep tremble.
I clambered over what rubble I couldn’t move and made my way to the door. I threw a shoulder at it, trying to break it down, because it seemed it was barred from the inside too. After a few bruises on my shoulder, I pulled out my sword and started hacking at the hinges. With those removed, I pulled the door off to see more rubble.
This was mildly disheartening. However, I started pushing it, and slowly, some of it started to give way. I heard a muted voice in the background commanding: “Push harder, girls!” and felt a bit of relief at that.
The dragon was getting agitated. He couldn’t move very well, but his food was all riled up and moving around. The chamber grew hotter and hotter, and I was feeling more and more nervous. Conceptually, he could toast all of us and save us for later. Better to eat leftovers than to go hungry.
The rock moved.
It seemed like hordes of girls rushed out past me, disappearing down the stairs in a flurry of smocks and peasant shoes. I squeezed out of the way because if they were going to get eaten first, I didn’t want to be part of the appetizer. But the dragon did not do anything except struggle against his bonds.
The last girl made it out and turned to look me straight in the eye. “Go now, sir knight! You’ve done all you can.” She too fled ahead of me.
I decided her advice was proper. Almost on her heels, I descended the stairs.
Apparently, dragons need to build up their fire inside before they use it, so the first set of girls out the door had been fine. By the time the last girl and I made it down the stairs, he had summoned enough flame. He opened his mouth and bellowed, and fire came tumbling out, aimed directly at us.
I grabbed the girl and threw us both behind a large rock that had fallen out of the wall. The trembling of the keep continued, shaking harder as the dragon’s fury increased. When the flames died down, I grabbed the girl by her dress and pushed her through a hole in the wall. “Run! Don’t stop!” She nodded once and disappeared.
Thus unburdened, I could make my last stand with much more aplomb. I was fearless, strong, brave. And unbidden, the face of the duke’s daughter rose to my mind.
Cursing the same God who had just protected me, and hoping that most of the girls had made it outside by now, I started taunting the dragon. I had to live in order to marry the girl of my dreams. She was all that mattered. If I died here, who else could protect her?
“Ah, bumblesmoke! Who shat on your face?” I yelled, dashing towards the exit after the girls. He had to follow me or all was lost. “Pox-ridden phlegm-dripping yellow snake! See if you can catch me!” With those words, I turned and did not look back.
My insults had done the trick. With a scream of rage at the annoyance I had inflicted on him, he started towards me, spitting hot coals and trickles of flame. I dodged as best I could, occasionally getting a bit more singed than I would have liked. I will admit that it was very difficult to get out, and I was not at all unscathed. But there have been times that I have bled more, so I was sure I would live. Wounds that are burned scar, but stop the bleeding.
The outside air was cool and fresh, though still stained with the scent of sulfur. I barreled through the remains of the town, desperately seeking anything I could hide in. I feared that my trap would not work and that I had doomed myself and the maidens, and worst of all, eventually the duke’s daughter.
But a clap of thunder and then the rolling noise of a storm sounded behind me. The earth shook like a baby’s rattle and I was thrown to the ground. I was tossed about a bit, but finally came to a stop, and turned behind me.
The keep had collapsed and the thrashing of the dragon was just serving to destroy it more. The dragon seemed frantic. I sat and watched, and after a time, it was over.
“You mean to say that the castle collapsing on the dragon did it in?” I challenge. “I thought they were nearly invincible!”
He gives me a dry look. “Wouldn’t you die if a castle collapsed on you?”
This perturbs me. “Well… I should assume so.”
“Dragons are not made of suits of armor. They’re more like chain mail. A sword won’t pierce chain mail, but if you drop a boulder on someone wearing it, it’s bound to sting a bit.”
I frown slightly, but nod to indicate he should go on.
The dragon had managed to free his head, but the heavy stones had crushed his light bones like twigs. Dragons have hollow bones like birds so they can fly, but it makes them particularly susceptible to crushing deaths. It is, however, somewhat difficult to get dragons in a situation where you can crush them. I was lucky.
I approached the head warily, and after kicking it a few times, I opened his mouth not without distaste, cutting out the huge tongue with my sword. Gore dribbled onto my shoes, but I stuffed the tongue into the side-bag I had deliberately brought for such a thing. It smelled fierce.
Bruised and singed, I made my way back to my horse, and was surprised to see the maidens, now free, standing around it. Many of them were crying, but the girl I had pushed through the wall walked up to me, calm. “We thank you from the bottoms of our hearts and beg you to let us accompany you to the castle to find our families.”
How was I supposed to say no to dozens of sweet nubile young girls?
We traveled for days and nights over the rough surface torn by the dragon’s hatred, taking it much slower than I had alone with my horse, for the girls had to walk. Those who were most injured I allowed to ride, and I myself walked. I had several burns on me from the dragon which were rapidly turning into scars. It was, despite its lack of speed, a much more pleasant journey than the one I had previously embarked on for more reasons than one.
The day arrived when we finally reached the castle. The girls split up from me and went to find their families, not without a moment of sadness from me. And I myself headed towards the castle, to the throne room, my bag dripping with blood and gore and victory. Nothing could stop me now from the princess, my heart’s desire. Nothing could stop me from getting what I deserved so richly.
“And the duke’s daughter accepted you?” I ask eagerly.
He glares. “Do you think I would be here if she wanted to marry me?”
“But the story is supposed to end with the hero and the girl together! Isn’t that right?” I’m frustrated now. “You gave the duke the dragon’s tongue, right?”
“Of course I did,” he replies gruffly. “But things don’t always turn out the way they are supposed to.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, perplexed. Stories had to end the right way. We don’t need any more tragedies to think about while in this dungeon.
He looks away, quiet. “I entered the castle and presented myself to the duke. That’s where my dreams of heroic deeds and princesses ended.”
The castle was beautiful, especially the throne room. I had not bothered to change my clothes or clean myself in preparation for meeting the duke, which, in retrospect, I probably should have done. But it doesn’t matter now.
I was escorted with several armed guards, a precaution I felt unnecessary. And the doors to the throne room were opened and I entered, and there were so many royal courtiers and the duke, but all I could see was the princess.
I knelt with what little manners I knew, bowed my head, and set the bag with the dragon’s tongue down at her feet. “Your highness, this is the tongue of the dragon that I have killed. The maidens he had captured to eat I have already returned to their families. The land is ravaged, but it can be saved. I have done my part.”
He eyed me, a dark look in his eyes, which worried me. “You, sir, are a liar.”
Now I raised my head with a jerk. “Your highness?”
His steely gaze met mine, and I realized for the first time in my life that there was a man more powerful than I. “You are lying in order to marry the princess. Another killed the dragon.”
Now this was too much to take. I had the burns and gashes to prove my valor. And I had the tongue of the dragon. “Your highness, I killed the dragon! How else could I have acquired the tongue?”
The duke issued a meaningful look to a good-looking, well-dressed courtier who stepped forward. The man bowed a golden head haloed by the light. I could see no calluses on his hands. “I killed the dragon. I have the head. It has already been mounted on a pike in front of the castle to signal our victory.”
It was then that the shock and horror of my situation completely dawned on me. The duke had no intention of wedding me, a terribly boorish commoner, to his lovely and politically marriageable daughter. I should have seen it from the beginning.
The princess reached out her hand towards me, a comforting gesture, understanding and compassion clear in her eyes, but she too was a prisoner. Still shocked, the guards pulled me out of the room, down a set of stairs, and threw me in here. It has been one week since then. My time is up today.
“How can this be?” My sense of justice is outraged.
He sighs, his breath making the hairs of his beard tremble. “It makes sense. I should have seen it from the beginning. He just sneaked back and took the head of the dragon after we had all left. I had been foolish and lost in love. It seems that I got what I deserved.”
“That’s not–”
There’s a cackle and a shaking at the door as the key rattles into the lock. “You got what you deserved, all right! And now it’s off to the gallows with you!”
I cringe back into the corner. The jailer was the last person I wanted to see.
He, however, stands tall. “I am ready.”
“You’d better be!” Another cackle and the grimy jailer is at his cuffs, twisting keys and wheezing his laugh. Two burly men stand at the door, ready to escort the prisoner. I watch, not without loathing, knowing this will be my fate as well soon enough. The door is closing as I lunge forward. “Your name, sir! Tell me your name!”
He gives me a look over his shoulder, his eyes kind, as the door shuts and locks between us. “Don’t worry; you’ll hear about me in legends soon enough.”
I stare after him, watching until he disappears around the corner of the dungeon, then sigh. Had he really killed the dragon in order to be sentenced to death? This royal crime made trespasses committed by commoners completely forgivable in comparison.
Suddenly, out in the hallway, I hear the sounds of a scuffle and muffled curses. My eyes widen as I realize what’s going on. “Stop him! He’s escaping!” Suddenly there is a flash of white teeth grinning in front of me and keys are dropped in my hands. “Here, you need these more than I,” and he’s gone.