Thomas and the Dragon Queen

by Shutta Crum

  The queen laughed again. “Now, let me see if I have heard all this correctly.” As she spoke, she ticked off each item on a hooked yellow claw. “You lost your sword. You loaned your steed. You allowed your jerkin to be stolen. So that makes you clumsy, foolish, and gullible.” She sighed, a deep dragonly whoosh that swept through the room.

  For some strange reason, that deep sigh calmed Thomas. She was right, of course, about his faults. What a champion I’ve made, he thought as he stared at his feet. He was certainly a sorry excuse for a knight!

  Queen Bridgoltha asked, “Thomas, tell me, are these the qualities that become a knight nowadays?”

  Thomas did not look up. He shook his head. “No.”

  “Have you any weapon or equipment at all for your quest?”

  Thomas spread his arms outward. “Alas, no, Your Majesty.”

  It was absolutely quiet in the nursery. Even the babies had stilled their whining and had stopped fighting over Princess Eleanor’s lap—which was the best seat for viewing all that was happening.

  It was Thomas who broke the silence. He finally raised his head. With his hands and fingers spread wide, he looked deep into Bridgoltha’s bronze eyes and said, “I have nothing.”

  “Well,” said the queen, “I must say this is refreshing! For a change, a would-be champion comes equipped just as we dragons always are … empty-handed. How absolutely delicious! We face each other with nothing but our natural talents. Ooooh, let me think about how we should proceed.” Queen Bridgoltha laid her chin down upon an outstretched foot.

  It was precisely at this crucial moment that Bittany decided to speak with her mother. She slithered off Nursie’s lap, and before Eleanor could retrieve her, she marched up to her mother’s chin.

  “Mama?”

  The queen rolled her eyes downward toward her daughter. She started to reprimand Bittany but had barely begun before Bittany announced, “He does have something! It’s a horse-beast! It’s called a toy. Da made it for Isabel. We played with it.”

  Queen Bridgoltha looked over at Thomas. “You came armed with a toy?”

  “Your Majesty, I almost forgot I had it!” Thomas said. He took it from his pocket and held it out for the dragon queen to see.

  Bridgoltha stretched out a single claw and lifted it from his hands. She twirled it about for a moment.

  Thomas gulped. Was she going to crush it?

  Instead, she glanced down at Bittany and said, “You interrupted while Sir Thomas and I were speaking.”

  Bittany showed her belly to her mother. Gently her mother laid a single claw tip upon it.

  Bridgoltha had just turned her attention back to Thomas when Bittany scuttled forward and showed her belly to him. Instantly, the mother dragon’s eyebrows rose threateningly, her topknot stiffened, and a rumble began to rise from deep in her throat. She glared at Thomas. But Thomas, who was used to Bittany’s ways, knelt quickly and tickled the small dragon—accepting her apology so that she could go back to the others, where it was safe.

  The dragon queen made a sound in her throat like a great harrumph! She watched her daughter return to the group. She looked back at Thomas and laid Isabel’s carved horse on the floor before her. To pick it up, Thomas would have to approach within inches of her wide mouth.

  Thomas stared at the small horse. It was all he had left of the gifts given him. And Da had made it! He stepped forward and, bending low before that set of sharp teeth, he picked it up.

  The dragon queen raised her heavy lower eyelids partway over her eyes and stared at Sir Thomas through the slits. She did not take her eyes off him as he ran his hands lightly over the toy, smiled to himself, and strode purposefully toward the dragonlets. The small knight knelt down and offered the wooden toy to Bittany.

  “When I left home,” he said to Bittany, “my sister Isabel gave me this horse. She shared it so that I would not be lonely upon my quest. Now I give it to you. You must learn to share it with your brothers and sisters.”

  “Take turns?” Bittany asked, her topknot quivering happily.

  “Yes. Like when we played with it on the ledge.”

  Bittany grasped the toy with her tiny claws. She stretched up and licked Thomas along the back of his hand.

  When he arose, he walked back to stand before the dragon queen. He took a deep breath and said, “Now I truly have nothing. I stand before you simply as myself. I’m sorry I thought to do you harm, Your Majesty. That was not befitting a knight.” Then, slowly but deliberately, he lay down upon the rock floor before her and offered his bare stomach.

  Eleanor gasped. The little ones stood at attention—their cries hushed, their topknots alert, and their eyes wide.

  If Queen Bridgoltha was surprised, she did not show it. Instead, she raised a claw and licked it. She took her time eyeing this unlikely knight at her feet. She held her claw over his vulnerable stomach. With one swipe she could have split him in two. In a deep voice she said, “You’ve lied to me, Sir Thomas. Oh, you came here armed with plenty of weapons! You did not lose them on the journey. I see that now.”

  Thomas closed his eyes. He hadn’t lied! He couldn’t help it if she didn’t believe him. Regardless, he knew in his heart that he owed her this apology.

  The last line of his oath to the king came to him. He whispered it to himself: “… to the end of my days.”

  The queen set a curved claw tip lightly upon Sir Thomas’s stomach. The tip scratched his skin; it made a bright red line across his middle. In the nest area, Bittany began to whimper and hid her head under Nursie’s arm.

  Then, gently, Queen Bridgoltha continued, “You came here to best me with your bravery and your honesty. You will not.” The dragon queen raised her claw.

  Thomas opened his eyes.

  Queen Bridgoltha dipped her head to him. “Your bravery and your honesty are talents that have served you well. Never let it be heard that one young, ragged knight bested the queen of the dragons in courtly manners! My natural gifts are just as strong as yours. I accept your apology. Rise, Sir Thomas, a Knight of the Realm.”

  After Sir Thomas’s apology there were several days of courtly negotiations to work through. However, the hard work of coming to terms was considerably easier when Queen Bridgoltha and Sir Thomas spoke of the beast in the lake.

  “You are quite sure the creature died?” Bridgoltha asked.

  “I believe so,” said Thomas. “Its tentacles were limp and strewn about the lakeshore.”

  “Hmm.” The dragon queen pondered this. “Dragon lore tells us that the beast was awaiting the return of something a great fish took from it. That must have been its tooth, the ivory from which your sword’s hilt was carved. We dragons have never liked what was living in that lake. But it did serve a purpose in keeping nosy people and fishermen away from my island. Now I suppose I shall need to learn to get along with human neighbors again.” She sighed and added, “However, I am impressed by your bravery, my young knight! Now let us see if we are both brave enough, and humble enough, to come to some agreeable terms for our mutual benefit.”

  The terms agreed upon were that Sir Thomas, Princess Eleanor, and Queen Bridgoltha would take turns caring for the young dragons. This was a solution proposed by Bittany, who insisted that they must all learn how to share.

  Sir Thomas would spend one season every year teaching the dragonlets chivalry, sharing, and storytelling, while Eleanor would come one season a year to teach courtly manners, politics, and elocution. Their mother could sleep soundly at those times. She would take care of them the other two seasons with the help of the first-hatched youngsters, who were getting big enough now to take on such chores as fetching water. During this period Wyndeth, the eldest dragonlet, would teach flying lessons, Rendall would teach mathematics, Tumbleson would pass on dragon history to his siblings, and the queen would continue with fire-breathing instruction and the fine art of listening. If these arrangements proved successful, Bridgoltha would not make off with any more nursemaids.

&n
bsp; As a favor, Thomas would bring Da to Barren Isle so that she might meet the man who had carved the wonderful horse-beast. In return, she would allow a couple of her dragonlets to visit Thomas in the countryside one day, when they were a little older. This was so that Ma and the others might get a glimpse of some astonishing dragon treasure—her babies.

  So it came to pass that on a sunny morning after negotiations had been concluded, Queen Bridgoltha scooped up Sir Thomas and Princess Eleanor and flew them across the bay, around the now peaceful lake, and to the abandoned cottage nearby. She would not take them closer to home at this time, for fear of knights who relied more upon their man-made weapons than upon their personal talents.

  When they alighted on the trail, she bid them farewell. Then the dragon queen said, “There is one more apology that must be made.”

  Eleanor and Thomas looked puzzled.

  “I,” said Queen Bridgoltha, “owe Nursie an apology for taking her away from her father and her kingdom, even if I do believe she enjoyed some of her stay with my family.” Then Queen Bridgoltha knelt upon the ground and turned toward Princess Eleanor in apology.

  Eleanor laid her hand upon the dragon’s soft underbelly. “Your gracious apology, great queen, is accepted—upon one condition.”

  The dragon queen’s topknot quivered, and she looked questioningly at Eleanor.

  “One day, you must invite my father to see the young ones fly at sunset,” Eleanor said. “He would like that.”

  Queen Bridgoltha nodded. “Of course. My little ones will miss you until your return. And you, Sir Thomas. I hope the food and the clothing we have gathered for you will suffice for your journey home. Travel well.”

  * * *

  Sir Thomas and Princess Eleanor walked all that day until they arrived at the cottage of the widow who had fed Thomas so well on his trip to Barren Isle. Again the widow made a humble but tasty meal for the travelers. As she cooked, she recounted the arrival of Bartholomew with the injured king and Jon.

  She had cared for the king while Jon had helped with the chores and tended to her animals. It was two days before the king was fit enough to be moved in a neighbor’s wagon. They had tied the donkey to the cart, and the king was able to lie down as he rode the rest of the way to the castle.

  The next morning that same neighbor left his farm to carry Thomas and Princess Eleanor home. As they traveled, the story of their adventures raced before them faster than wispy clouds on a happy day.

  The hill folk in the surrounding countryside came out to cheer the wagon when it passed. And when the farmer, Thomas, and the princess stopped for a meal, people gathered around to touch Thomas for good luck or to slap him on the back for a job well done. A few even said that they might go to the coast to fish again, now that the beast of the lake was dead and the dragons were no longer snatching nursemaids. In fact, several families were planning to visit the once dismal lake, for it was said that the waters had cleared to a shimmering blue after the monster died. And the new, soft grass along its shores made the pool inviting again.

  Early one day, while they were coming down from the highlands, Thomas spotted a lone rider on a black horse. It was Sir Gerald; he’d ridden out to meet them.

  Dismounting, Sir Gerald gripped Eclipse by the reins and bowed first to Princess Eleanor. “Your Highness,” he said. Then, turning to the elderly farmer, he dipped his head and said, “Good sir, you have once again come to the aid of the kingdom. We thank you from our hearts. You will be rewarded well.” Lastly, he bowed to Thomas. “Sir Thomas.”

  Thomas felt uncomfortable when Sir Gerald bowed to him. He clambered quickly down from the wagon seat and gave Sir Gerald a hug. “Sir Gerald,” he cried, “you won’t believe everything that’s happened!”

  “Oh, but I would,” said Sir Gerald with a laugh. “Stories of your deeds fly before you like the wind. I heard about you as I was coming home from the border.”

  “Are the northern borders secure yet?” asked the princess.

  “For the moment, Your Highness,” Sir Gerald replied. “The breach has been repaired, and there are sentries posted to watch for a new uprising from the north.”

  Eleanor smiled. “That is good,” she said. “And my father? We’ve heard on our travels that he is mending.”

  “The king is stiff, and just last night was able to walk a bit with a cane. But in all other respects he seems to be healing, my lady. He was, as I left him, peppering the kitchen staff with details for a grand reception in honor of your return and to celebrate our good knight’s deeds.” Sir Gerald nodded toward Thomas.

  “A reception?” asked Thomas.

  “A feast,” explained Sir Gerald. “And then a ball where you can put to use one of your other talents, your dancing ability. It is gossiped that several ladies of the court are vying for the honor of dancing with you.”

  “With me? In public?” squeaked Thomas.

  “They shall have to wait until I have had my turn,” said the princess.

  Thomas felt his face grow hot. He hid his blush by turning to Eclipse. “How are you, boy?” he asked the warhorse as he stroked Eclipse’s neck.

  “He is doing well,” put in Sir Gerald, “due to the kind of handling of our newest groomsman.”

  “Jon?” asked Thomas.

  Sir Gerald nodded. He added, “Jon was elevated in rank by Marshal Wattley. Wattley’s a cautious man and not given to doling out praise. Still, I think he was so surprised by our young Jon’s bravery and hard work that he brought him up from the rather lowly position of an assistant under-groomsman, or some such thing, to just plain groomsman. Apparently, this happened even though—as Marshal Wattley put it—he is like Sir Thomas, small for his age.”

  “Small for his age?” Thomas said with a splutter, and added, “Jon’s not—” Then he started laughing and coughing at the same time and could not finish what he’d meant to say.

  Soon they were all laughing.

  “In truth, I suspect our Wattley is not blind. I think he may have just taken a liking to the young rapscallion,” said Sir Gerald. “Come, I will escort you the rest of the way to the castle, where the king, Jon, and Thomas’s family are anxiously awaiting your return.”

  With that, the cart fell in behind Sir Gerald and they continued through the last hours of their journey home. Along the way more and more people came out to join the welcoming crowds.

  Thomas saw his family in the throng at the castle gate. Da had Isabel held high in his arms, and Ma was holding the new baby. Peter, who looked as if he’d been recently scrubbed raw, sat atop Albert’s broad shoulders. Around them ranged his other brothers and sisters. They were all waving, even Albert.

  Thomas stood in the wagon and returned their waves as the cart clattered beneath the raised portcullis and onto the cobblestoned courtyard.

  In the great hall, Princess Eleanor ran through the courtiers, knights, and ladies to throw herself into her father’s arms. Thomas knew her tears were tears of happiness.

  Thomas waited at the back of the room. In the crowd he spied several of the younger knights who had been pages and squires with him. Standing to one side was the brave knight who’d gone into the fight at the pass, when he’d still been a squire. Thomas smiled at him. He was glad that the young man had come home safely from the border.

  Sir Edwin was there, too, smoothing his finely embroidered tunic and snickering to a small crowd gathered around him. During their training he’d taken every opportunity to make fun of Thomas. Now, he pointed at Thomas.

  Thomas glanced down at the hodgepodge of his clothing. At least he’d been able to replace the shirt the princess had found for him in the nursery. He pulled up on his breeches, raised his eyes, and made a point of smiling at Edwin until the older boy had to look away.

  Finally, Thomas was motioned forward by Sir Gerald.

  When Thomas approached the king, he knelt on one knee.

  “Ah!” said the princess, freeing herself from her father’s embrace and wiping he
r eyes with a piece of lace handed to her by one of the ladies of the court. “Father,” she said, “may I present my champion.”

  Thomas looked up. The entire court, other than Edwin and his friends, were cheering. He blushed. Then he searched the crowd and saw Da.

  Da raised his hand and placed it over his heart.

  Thomas understood. Da was telling him that his heart and his hand had been strong enough, though he was but the son of a rough leathersmith. Thomas smiled at Da.

  He was quickly drawn back to the king who boomed, “Well met again, Sir Thomas!” The king motioned for Thomas to rise. “Thomas, we are greatly in your debt. I believe many a knight twice your size could not have accomplished so much. You defeated the beast of the lake, befriended the queen of the dragons, and rescued my daughter. For such a champion, no reward is too great. How shall I repay you?”

  Thomas thought for a moment. He’d only done what he’d felt was the right thing to do. Shoving Starfast into one of the mouths of the beast had been his only possible course of action at the time. And it was sensible to entrust the king to Jon’s care and Bartholomew’s steady gait. And apologizing to Queen Bridgoltha had been the proper thing to do—as Ma might have said. Surely he did not need to be rewarded for doing as any clearheaded person might. Then an idea came to him.

  “My liege …” He hesitated.

  “Yes, Thomas?” prompted the king.

  “If—if I might be trusted with another sword, I’d like that.”

  The king laughed. “I think we can see to that. Anything else, Thomas?”

  “Well …” Thomas licked his lips, not sure if what he was about to say would raise the king’s anger. He was not certain how one turned down an invitation by the king, or even if it was something that was allowed. “If—if Your Majesty does not object, I’d like to go with Jon and visit Bartholomew and be excused from the dancing, Sire. That is, if I may.”

  Everyone in the room seemed to draw in their breath. Then, just as comments began to fly through the crowd, the king threw back his head and laughed heartily. Finally, he said, “Few turn down an invitation by the king. However, you have done me a service beyond measure, Sir Thomas. Fulfilling this simple request is not nearly the reward due you. Still, it is granted. First we will feast. Your parents will be seated in a place of honor. After we have eaten and drunk to your health, you have my leave to go to the stables to visit your friends. You will be excused from the dancing.”