With a Jester of Kindness

by K. C. Herbel

  The armored man turned his mount around and moved closer to the fallen beast. He threw the broken lance to the ground and lifted his visor to better examine the body. Billy took this as a good sign and so started out of his little cave and across the pond.

  The victorious warrior leaned over his horse and looked down at the fierce fangs protruding from the thing’s mouth. The fallen monster’s eyes snapped open, and the horse and rider both jolted back, but it was too late. The creature was on its feet. Its claws immediately flew to the horse’s side and head, and its teeth sank into the armor on its neck. Billy could see the eyes of the horse grow large and feral with fear. The beast shook its head as the knight drew his sword from the scabbard. There was a loud snap, and the horse collapsed, throwing its rider to the ground with a crash. A loud grunt jumped from the man’s mouth as the wind exploded from his lungs. His long sword flew through the air and stuck point down in the sand before Billy, who now stood knee deep in the pool, frozen by fear.

  The knight slowly rolled up to his knees. He pulled off his helm and tossed it to the ground as he shook his head. His long brown hair swept around his head, and beads of sweat rolled down his furrowed brow. He blinked twice and then stood to face the beast that had just slaughtered the grey stallion. It was kneading its long, bloodied claws on the horse’s corpse and staring coldly at the dazed human before him.

  The knight’s hand absently grasped at his side but only felt the empty scabbard there. Frantically he glanced around. His eyes stopped on his sword. He barely noticed the little man standing behind it as he focused on his distant weapon. His sword looked so far away, too far to reach quickly, and all his other weapons were on his dead mount. He looked back to the growling beast. It wiggled and shook in anticipation as it readied itself to pounce.

  The man darted to the left and then ran directly at his sword. The strategy worked, for the beast sprang in the direction of the feint, missing his victim and almost going into the stream. The man ran as hard as he could, but it wasn’t enough. The quick reflexes of the monster allowed it to turn and rejoin the chase with hardly a lost step. The man’s face was red, and he panted forcefully as he strove to reach his sword. However, it was too late. The creature gained on him in a matter of a few steps and smashed him to the ground with a raking leap. This heavily battered the knight, but he managed to roll out of the way as the monster passed.

  The creature stopped and turned around. The man came up weakly to his elbow and stared at the beast coming towards him—its large, wide eyes glaring at him, its mouth drooling thick red blood. The creature came to a stop, and its eyes strayed from the downed warrior. The man, by reflex, followed its gaze. Just a foot from his side he found the odd little man, pointing his lost sword at the monster with both hands.

  The sword wavered as Billy struggled to hold out its heavy blade. He didn’t know why he had drawn the sword from the sand or how he had gotten to where he was. He glanced down at the prone man. The back of his leather armor was shredded, and Billy saw blood. The man’s face was curiously calm, but Billy looked into his green eyes and perceived turbulence.

  All three of them acted at once. The creature started to charge, Billy stepped forward, thrusting with the sword, and the knight pushed up from the ground and seized his sword from Billy’s trembling hands. The creature was on them instantly. It swung at the armed man first, but he skillfully dodged. Unfortunately, fear overwhelmed Billy’s untrained reflexes, and the attack struck him before he could flinch. He felt the claws slash across him as he was knocked back several feet into the stream.

  Billy felt a pain like fire burning on his chest and the cold water around him. The pain faded, and he felt nothing but cold. By sheer will, he forced his head forward out of the water and stuck a hand out behind himself. Dazed, he looked through his knees at the two combatants just ten feet away.

  The creature renewed its attack ferociously, but the knight countered with a quick step and a slash of his sword across his foe’s mighty paw. Once more, the monster cried out but continued to press its attack. Again it lunged at the man, and again the man sidestepped the attack, slashing this time to the creature’s neck. It reeled back with the pain but then quickly turned and raised itself up on its rear legs. This maneuver surprised the warrior, who was standing too close, and forced him to fall backwards as the monster brought its weight down on him.

  In the blink of an eye the knight brought his sword up and planted its pommel firmly next to him. The creature clawed at his shoulders and fell upon him. It curled back its lips baring a maw full of snarling teeth.

  “Die, dragon!” grunted the man, but the beast would not oblige. It gnashed its teeth and let out a spiteful roar that dwindled into a growl. Its entire frame quivered, and the growl gave way to gagging as it gasped for air. The knight could smell the warm, putrid breath of the monster as it hovered above him, panting in jagged breaths, its teeth mere inches from his face. The heavy brows over its eyes relaxed, and it collapsed on top of him.

  Billy was barely conscious now, and a peculiar pain began to nag at him, throbbing in his chest. He looked down and saw blood pooling in long gashes running across it. Billy fought to stay awake, but alas it was too much for him. He fell back into the water. The last thing he saw, before blackness surrounded him, was the first evening star. He feebly made a wish and fainted.

  * * *

  Billy awoke feeling something tugging on his leg. He inclined his head forward and saw the huge hairy beast’s eyes glaring down at him, its mouth around his foot. Horrified, Billy tried to scramble out of its grip but found he had no strength. The creature hauled him roughly onto the bank of the stream and dropped his foot. It softly padded over to him until its face was just above him. Billy felt a deep revulsion, but still he was unable to move. The creature grinned, showing its great maw of teeth. It then licked Billy’s chest, grinning even deeper as it savored the taste. Then with an amazing amount of gentleness, it rolled him over and picked him up by his tunic.

  They were moving. In the dark, Billy perceived the blurred outline of trees and rocks rushing by, as the creature carried him deeper and deeper into the forest. Billy hung limp like a cloth doll in its mouth. The monster trotted along for hours, seemingly tireless. Billy realized the creature was taking him to its lair.

  It seemed the creature’s appetite had been quenched; its stomach bloated horribly—impossibly—by its previous gorging. And still they moved on through woods, across streams, and over hills, but why was the creature taking Billy back alive? The only answer caused Billy to cry out, but alas even this was too much for him. He was sure that he was to be a fresh, live dinner for the creature’s mate, or hungry cubs, or maybe a snack for later when the creature’s incredible hunger returned. Billy fell in and out of consciousness, always awakening to find himself held tight in the horrible thing’s mouth, still moving.

  At last, a huge cave—its mouth obscured by an even larger rock—loomed before them. The lair! Billy’s hopes for release or escape faded.

  The monster entered the cave and plopped Billy down near the entrance on a large flat stone, worn smooth by many footfalls. Billy looked beside him and gasped. In a corner of the cave’s entrance lay a pile of well-gnawed bones, bleached white by the sun.

  Billy’s captor let out a terrible roar back into the cave. Much to his horror, there came a responding growl from the darkness. Then slowly, out of the deep shadows, another of its kind emerged. Several young, the size of large dogs, crowded in beside it. They glared at him with their yellow eyes and hungry mouths. With lips retracted, the large gnashing fangs and slobbering tongues moved closer to Billy. Then instantly they rushed him, their horrible mouths opening wide . . .

  Billy sat up screaming. He looked about him and saw that he was no longer in the creature’s lair, but in a big blue tent. He had been dreaming or rather “nightmaring” as John called it. However, now he was awake. He was sure that he was truly awake, for the pain in his chest was far too re
al.

  A man suddenly ducked in through the flap in the tent. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and well-muscled arms and legs. His long brown hair was pulled back from his face, wrapped in a blue ribbon, so that it sprang out from the back of his head like the tail of a horse. As he entered, his face and body were tense, and his brow wrinkled with concern. He relaxed once he saw Billy was safe. He had a kind face, and his green eyes sparkled as he gave Billy a gentle smile.

  “Lay still, my brave, little friend,” he said soothingly. “There are no dragons here.”

  The man’s voice was soft and pleasant. Billy lay back down, but his mind was full of questions.

  “That was a dragon?” he blurted. “And you vanquished him? Where’s Duncan? And . . .”

  The man gently placed his hand over Billy’s mouth then said, “I am sorry. Your friend, the Highlander, is dead. Now lay still and rest, for you need your strength.”

  Once the man was sure he had successfully quieted the boy, he continued. “Aye, that was a dragon, a forest dragon, and perhaps the last of its kind.” He spoke the last with a strange sadness. He was quiet for a moment then said, “And I . . . am Sir Hugh, son of Sir Sedgemore, knight-errant, and champion to the king.”

  Billy’s eyes popped open. “Sir Sedgemore? The king?” he spouted, but before he could say anything more, Sir Hugh had his fingers to Billy’s lips.

  “Shhh, my friend. There will be plenty of time to talk later. But now, sleep.” Then suddenly, Sir Hugh’s face took on a queer expression.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Billy.

  “Have we . . . met before?” asked Hugh.

  “No,” answered Billy. “I would remember you.”

  “Then it’s nothing,” Hugh said absently. “Don’t worry, my friend. Rest.”

  Billy closed his eyes. Slowly his weariness got the better of him, and he fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of knights and dragons, which were all too well defined now for him to rest quietly.

  The smell of breakfast awoke Billy. He breathed in the smells of the food cooking and savored them. It was a pleasant smell, and he half expected to hear his father’s voice asking why he slept so late. But the bed was not right, and the light had a strange tint to it. He opened his eyes to discover he still lay in the blue tent. He felt the urge to stretch as he yawned, but the wound and the tight bandages around his chest made it most uncomfortable.

  Billy painfully propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the tent. He lay on a bed made of leaves and pine needles and covered with a fine thick fur. In one corner there lay a cushion and a lantern. Next to the lantern lay a small open chest with papers and writing quill.

  In the opposite corner was something that caught Billy’s attention and fired his imagination. There was a tall wooden post with a full suit of armor hanging on it. From the magnificent white plumed helm to the silver filigree on the breastplate and greaves, it was beautiful. Also from the armor-scarecrow’s arm hung the silver spurs of a knight. The armor’s surface reflected the strange blue light, giving the suit a glow, as if the source of light were within it. Leaning up against the post was a beautiful shield of plain polished metal. It reminded Billy of a silver pot a peddler had once shown him. In front of the shield was a sword with an elegant white grip and silver hilt. A bright blue gemstone sparkled in the pommel. The scabbard was equally ornate, being covered with pebbled leather the color of bone and capped at either end with skillfully sculpted silver, which crept sparingly towards the middle like twisted vines of ivy. There was something oddly familiar about the sword.

  Billy painfully got up and crossed to the sword. Slowly his hand moved out to touch the pale grip. Then his hand was upon it. He held it there for a moment before his hand recoiled. He shuddered at the memory of facing the dragon. Had he really stood before the fearsome monster with nothing but the heavy sword trembling in his unskilled hands? The memory was unnerving, unbelievable, unthinkable, yet there he was, and so was the sword. An uneasy feeling came over Billy. He turned around quickly to see the tall brawny knight standing at the tent’s entrance. Billy had been in a trance and hadn’t noticed him enter.

  “I see you’ve recovered some of your strength,” said the knight, holding out a plate of food and a goblet. “Good! Here are some victuals to help you along.”

  Billy stared blankly at him as his mind flashed back to when he first saw the man’s handsome face. The taut, blood-stained features of the warrior had changed, but it was the same man.

  “I think you’ll need to eat before taking on another dragon,” the man said with a smile.

  Billy blinked, and then something inside him growled. Until then, he hadn’t taken stock of his stomach and was overcome suddenly by incredible hunger. He took the food from the knight with a bow and a “thank-you” and immediately began to cram it into his mouth without regard for common table manners.

  The knight left but quickly returned with more food for himself and his ravenous little guest. They ate in silence. As Billy’s stomach began to fill, his hunger lessened, and he began to remember his previous awakening. It seemed like a dream now.

  “Sir Hugh . . . ?” asked Billy cautiously.

  “Aye,” came the confident reply.

  Billy’s mind was full of questions. He wasn’t sure where to begin.

  “The monster . . . the dragon?” The knight nodded and Billy continued. “It is . . . dead?”

  “Aye. If not, I’m afraid he’ll be very put out with me for stealing his warm coat.” With this he gestured to Billy’s bed.

  Billy paled as he realized he’d been sleeping on the skin of a dragon. He stared back with wide eyes at the smiling knight.

  “No wonder I had nightmares!” said Billy, brushing himself off, in an attempt to get rid of whatever unthinkable thing he might have picked up from the dragon’s hide. He stopped his brushing and shuddered as he had done before with memories of the foul beast, which had come so close to devouring him.

  Sir Hugh was hard put not to burst out laughing, but he remained politely subdued in his mirth.

  “Say, I thought dragons had scales!” said Billy.

  “They do,” answered the knight.

  Billy examined the dragon’s hide more closely. Hesitantly he touched it and felt its long soft fur. Still curious about Sir Hugh’s statement, he ran his fingers against the nap, and something tiny and sharp nicked his fingers. He looked at the place where he had pulled the hair back and could see hundreds of tiny black scales, each one with many white hairs growing from it like the hair on an old pinecone.

  Billy returned to his meal and finished his second helping. Then he handed his empty plate to the grinning knight.

  “More?” asked the handsome warrior, astonished at his guest’s appetite.

  “No.” Billy patted his belly. “No. I don’t think I could take another bite. Thank you.”

  “You are most welcome, my brave friend.”

  “I’m not brave,” said Billy, with no false modesty.

  “Well,” said Sir Hugh, “it’s not every man who would stand toe to toe with such a monster.”

  Billy could only shrug in answer.

  The knight spoke half to himself, “Although why he was awakened from his deep slumber only the devil knows.” He paused and then added, “Yes, I think you’re very brave.”

  “But it was you who vanquished him.”

  “Maybe, but that does not diminish your bravery in the least my humble, young friend.”

  “And you are the son of Sir Sedgemore?” asked Billy.

  “Aye,” Hugh answered reluctantly.

  “My father told me about him. He must be quite famous!”

  The knight’s face became sad, and then he quietly said, “Some would say infamous.”

  Billy didn’t understand, but he could see that Sir Hugh didn’t wish to talk about his father. Billy took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Not to seem ungrateful, but how is it that ya came to that place when ya d
id?”

  The knight was still solemnly contemplating but finally answered, “That is a story in itself, but I will spare you the details. I was returning from a mission for my lord, the king, when I happened along a village not far from here. The entire village had been destroyed and all the inhabitants were gone—their food still on their plates. Not even a dog or cat was there to be found. I admit I was confounded by it all. And then I saw the signs . . . and the tracks of the beast. I tracked him to the ravine, and the rest . . . I think you know the rest.”

  The knight paused in contemplation before renewing the conversation. “And you, my fine young fellow, what on earth brought you to that ill-fated ravine?”

  Billy looked at him and started to speak, but then his eyes opened wide, and all he could blurt out was “Lady Myrredith!”

  “What?” replied the King’s Champion.

  “Lady Myrredith!” Billy continued frantically. He began to gather what little belongings of his were there and preparing to leave. “Ouch!” he said holding his ribs. “I must go! I’m sorry. Thank ya for your hospitality, but if I don’t get back soon, Lady Myrredith will be very worried!”

  “Slow down, my little friend,” the knight said gently. “Did you say Lady Myrredith?”

  “Aye,” said Billy, pulling on his shoes.

  “Would that be Lady Myrredith of Cyndyn Hall?”

  “Aye,” replied Billy.

  Sir Hugh’s countenance was contemplative, as if remembering with fondness some long-forgotten friend.

  Billy noticed the warrior’s expression and asked, “Do you know Her Ladyship?”

  “Aye,” said the knight, nodding his head. He was obviously still wading in memories.

  “Well, I’ll give her your best,” said Billy, pulling on his last shoe.

  “No,” spoke the warrior abruptly, “I’d like the honor myself. I’ll accompany you back, to greet her personally.”

  Billy noticed that his newly found friend had a glimmer in his eye that had not been there before.