The Boy Knight

“Life is precious. All life is important. I cannot and will not kill an animal.”

Hugo Allard repeatedly muttered his pledge, as a vibration of trembling capacity shook the very core of his body, followed by a blast of hot air gently caressing his face.

“Life is precious. All life is important. I cannot and will not kill an animal.”

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, a sense of impending finality shook the heavy sword from his hand, dropping it to the floor of the catacombs he had arrived at in search of his prey, the Dragon of Voltaire.

“What are you muttering?” Came a voice so deep and rich in tone, it almost had a soothing effect on Hugo’s nerves.

“I-I-I’m telling myself to remain steadfast to my beliefs,” Hugo stuttered while keeping his eyes tightly shut.

“Oh?” Said the voice. “And pray tell me what you believe in, boy.”

“I-I-I,” Hugo stuttered as a small wave of fearful anticipation swept over him.

“Stop mumbling!” The voice bellowed. “….and open your eyes!”

On command, Hugo opened his eyes wide, fighting back the urge to immediately close them upon seeing a giant head, just one giant nose distance away from his face. Blurting out loud, like he had suddenly been coerced by some old witch’s truth concoction, Hugo stated his intent.

“I cannot and will not kill a…” He stopped short of labelling the dragon that stooped in front of him an animal, for he had never before encountered one breathing so close to him – let alone one that talked.

“Kill a what, boy?” The dragon urged Hugo on.

“A-a-a…”

“Animal?” The dragon deliberately asked. “Am I to be branded an animal?”

“O-o-only in the sense that you are not erm…” Hugo hesitated.

“Human?” The dragon suggested.

“…Yes.”

“Do you know how long my kind have roamed this land?” The dragon rhetorically asked.

“N-no,” answered Hugo – trying to steady his nerves.

“Long before your kind ever existed. Do you know what we called your kind – the first time we saw you?”

“No.”

“Animals. Isn’t that ironic. Do you know why?”

Hugo’s silence loudly expressed his lack of knowledge.

“Because your kind behaved wildly, hunting and killing everything you came across. The need for food, warmth, and shelter, laid barren waste to forests, destroyed the natural habitats of this land’s small but significant creatures, and imbalanced the sustainability of life. It has taken your kind hundreds of thousands of years to learn to live off the land. But the trail of destruction you leave in your wake, and the incessant desire to hunt, to kill, has scarred the foundations of time and made an enemy of my kind.”

“B-but I haven’t done you any harm,” Hugo pleaded.

“Yes, that is one of the reasons keeping you alive,” the dragon explained. “The other is when I look into your eyes, I see you have purity in your soul. So, why are you here?”

“I was sent to slay you.”

It started with a low rumble, building into a loud guttural chuckle, then concluding with a roar of laughter, as the dragon emoted his amusement.

“But I refuse to kill anything or anyone,” Hugo quickly added. “It is not in my nature to be that way.”

As quickly as the laughter began, the dragon stifled it with a loud huff.

“A human that doesn’t kill. Impossible. Then, why enter my lair?”

“To talk.”

“To talk? Ha ha!” Roared the dragon, as he bellowed out a huge torrent of fire from his lungs, illuminating the catacombs long enough for Hugo to see hundreds of sets of human bones, shields, helmets, and swords scattered throughout the chamber’s floor. To Hugo, it resembled a graveyard of knights, chillingly resting where slain.

“That is something I never have heard before,” the dragon confessed, looking down at Hugo, who after the flame throwing demonstration, gingerly re-emerged from behind his large shield.

“Whatever do you and I have to talk about?” the dragon enquired.

Placing his shield on the floor, Hugo’s fresh sense of bravado started to surface. Realising that he had survived longer than most that had come before the fiery beast, he summoned up the courage to talk.

“I want to make a deal.”

“A deal, you say?” the dragon teased. “What deal is so enticing that I will want to be a part of it?”

Hugo wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. The dragon’s last question accompanied a very warm exhalation from his mouth, causing Hugo to take a cooling deep breath.

“What have you to offer that I don’t already have?” The dragon pressed.

“…Eggs.”

“What do I need eggs for?” The dragon dismissively asked.

“Zygotte eggs,” Hugo clarified.

The dragon’s eyes widened in surprise.

“That is impossible,” the dragon declared. “I am the last of my kind.”

“Yes, you are,” agreed Hugo. “But until recently, there was another. A female.”

“I was not aware of another dragon living in my kingdom.”

“Perhaps, she came from somewhere else?” Hugo suggested, while trying to think quickly on his feet.

“Where is she now? I must meet her.”

“She’s dead,” explained Hugo regretfully. “I came across her in a cave while gathering mushrooms. She had been fatally wounded but had laid three eggs before succumbing to her wounds.”

“Three!” The dragon exclaimed. “How do you know there is life within?”

“The eggs were still warm to the touch, and I could feel them vibrate, like something is growing inside.”

“Then, you must take me to them, immediately,” the dragon demanded.

“I moved them,” Hugo guardedly replied. “I didn’t want them to be destroyed by young knights wanting to create a reputation for themselves.”

“Where did you hide them? They are dragon property. If what you say is true, boy, then there is still hope for my species to survive.”

“First, we deal,” said the shrewd young man.

“Deal?” The dragon loudly questioned. “What if I just turn you into ash?” His aggravated tone of voice sent a shiver of caution down Hugo’s back.

“The eggs need warmth, moisturising, and companionship,” Hugo answered in his defence. “Otherwise, they will become atrophied, and they will perish. They will need food when they hatch. Who will provide that if I’m dead?”

The dragon paused to mull over Hugo’s proposition. Standing up to a fearsome dragon is a formidable task, and the dragon admired Hugo for his tenacity.

“You are brave for your size, human, yet you can’t be more than a mere child.”

“I’m Fourteen-years-old,” Hugo declared. “I’m almost a man.”

“Say you. I see nothing more than a boy.”

“A boy who still breathes in your company,” Hugo countered.

“Hmm,” the dragon pondered. “What is your name, boy?”

“Hugo Allard newly of the house of Plantagenet.”

“Plantagenet, you say?” The mere mention of that name piqued the dragon’s curiosity. It was as familiar to him as death was to all from there that hunted him.

“And the Dauphin Angevin coat of arms on your shield. Are you family?”

“No, I am not related.”

“How came you to be a dragon hunter, then?”

“I’m not a hunter,” Hugo stated, then rapidly explained, “I am just a farmer’s son that stumbled upon a dead dragon. After securing her eggs, I discovered a scale from her skin had come loose, so I took it as a means of future identification. On my way to supply the castle with the food my family had grown, I was set upon by bandits, but before they could rob me of my cargo, a knight from the castle appeared and killed them. When he discovered I was carrying the scale of a dragon, he escorted me to the Dauphin to tell the tale of the boy dragon slayer. Next thing I knew, the Dauphin made me a knight, gave me a horse, clothes, sword and a shield, then ordered me to find the last dragon and to not return without proof of death.”

“Ah, yes,” the dragon interrupted. “Clothes and weapons. The accolade of favour. How desperate the Dauphin must be.”

“I don’t understand,” said Hugo.

“How many knights would you say reside in the Dauphin’s kingdom?”

“That’s easy,” replied Hugo. “On a weekly basis, I have to bring food to feed no more than twelve knights stationed at the castle.”

“And how many knights have come and gone over the past year of your weekly deliveries?” The dragon asked.

“From my calculations, each month ten new knights come to replace the ones that do not return.”

“And where do you think they disappear to, so frequently?”

Hugo took a moment to recall the number of helmets and shields he saw moments prior, then replied, “Here – by the looks of things.”

“Very perceptive, my young knight,” the dragon complimented. “Tell me, boy. “Did you catch a glance at any of the shield crests scattered around?”

“Yes, like mine, they are all the same…”

Hugo stopped before completing his observation, but to press home his point, the dragon once again illuminated the floor of the chamber with a stream of flame rushing from his lungs and out through his nostrils. Seeing a sea of shields with the three lions coat of arms scattered across the floor, the realisation of why he was knighted washed over Hugo like the heat of the dragon’s hot breath.

“The Dauphin has sent out a boy,” the dragon emphasised. “To do the work of a man. What does that tell you?”

“I’m the last knight,” answered Hugo.

“You, Boy Knight, are the last of his kind in as much as I am the last of mine. A peculiar similarity, yes? But tell me. I am curious as to why you accepted the Dauphin’s request. Wouldn’t it have been much simpler to just ride off into the mist?”

“He holds within his castle walls, a hostage very dear to me.”

Pulling a large pocket of air into his lungs, Hugo let it all out with a giant sigh.

“…My betrothed.”

“Your betrothed!” The dragon roared through the echoing catacombs. “The boy is to be married and he is not yet a man? How strange you humans are. Always in a hurry to do something or be somewhere. No time to stop and listen to the world around you.”

Swiftly picking up his sword, Hugo’s frustration boiled over into scorned youthful anger. Turning to face his taunting adversary, he pricked the dragon’s nose, causing him to wince, then recoiled in the anticipation of the dragon’s backlash.

“Ouch!” The dragon grunted. “Do you have a death wish?”

“I love her!” Hugo innocently cried.

Expecting to be instantly turned into ash, Hugo valiantly faced the dragon, but to his surprise, there was no reaction.

“Ah, love,” the dragon dreamily recalled. “A universal emotion. You are either very brave or very stupid, but I think I’m beginning to like you. Tell me more of your betrothed.”

“She is a chambermaid to the Dauphin’s sister, Arial. She is from my village, and we have been promised to each other since we were five years old. The Dauphin said that if I didn’t return with proof of you slain, he would marry her off to an old cousin of his.”

“Can he do that?”

“The Dauphin is the king’s son. He can do anything he wants.”

“So, I presume you would like me to visit this Dauphin’s castle, burn it to the ground in exchange for the eggs, yes?”

“No.”

“No? What then do you want?”

“I want you to threaten to burn down the castle and all in it, unless the Dauphin releases my Isabelle.”

“You think like a child,” huffed the dragon. “Ooh, let’s go knock on the castle door threatening to burn all within, unless they release a child chambermaid to a child knight.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Hugo petulantly asked.

“Because, threatening a castle with a Dauphin living there, means one call for help to his subjects will empower hundreds – if not thousands of fresh dragon hunters and knights to reinforce the castle. That would be suicidal for me and those Zygotte eggs you shelter. No, you need another plan.”

“I don’t have another plan,” Hugo despairingly replied.

“Then, you must fight the Dauphin,” suggested the dragon.

“My fate would be sealed,” Hugo stated. “For I will not kill.”

“Not even for love?” The dragon questioned. “What a curious young knight you are. You seek my help to free your heart’s desire, yet you seek not the sacrifice of death in which may be your only option.”

“It is my way,” Hugo explained. “All peaceful means must be explored.”

The dragon rested his head on the ground to think. Never before had such a conundrum demanded so much examination.

“Do you know why men are sent to kill me?” The dragon asked. “They fear me. They associate me with being a devil intent on their destruction. My kind bore no malice to your kind, until we were attacked. So, in retaliation, we reigned fire down upon them and their homes, their crops, and their loved ones, becoming the very image they had projected onto us. To your kind, we are the aggressors, the essence of evil. But from our perspective, we are merely protecting our way of life. It seems that once humans demonise something, it becomes folklore and an object to destroy.”

“Then, you and I share a common enemy,” Hugo highlighted.

“Indeed,” replied the dragon. “But I am sorry your quest ends here.”

“It is of no consequence,” Hugo responded, as he turned and started to leave. “I will find another option.”

The dragon silently watched Hugo step behind a large pillar and retrieve a wooden chest the size of a large chair. Carefully carrying it back to the dragon, he placed it in front of him, then opened the lid to reveal the three dragon eggs snugly nestled together on a bed of straw.

“It was always my intention to give you these,” Hugo confessed. “I’m sorry to have used them as a bargaining chip. I will take your leave and find a way to rescue my Isabelle. It was a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Monsieur Dragon of Voltaire.”

“Curious. You have sacrificed your leverage,” the dragon craftily pointed out. “What makes you think I won’t now kill you?”

“Because you are too noble and magnificent to kill at will,” Hugo confidently replied.

A smile crept slowly across the dragon’s face. He was not used to a human being kind to him.

“Then, you may safely leave with the knowledge that you have made a friend today,” the dragon gratefully acknowledged.

Picking up his sword and shield, Hugo once more turned to leave. He did not see the giant tear forming in the dragon’s eye as he walked away. He was too busy thinking about how to save his Isabelle. For some curious reason in that moment, the dragon felt Hugo’s forlorn love cry out to the heavens for help, sparking a memory of his own almost forgotten and distant recollection of young love.

“Wait!” whispered the dragon, loudly. “There is a vessel next to your feet. Bring it here, please.”

Looking down at the ground, Hugo saw what looked like a gold goblet laying there. Stooping to pick it up, he marvelled at its ornate decoration. If there ever was anything that looked like a holy grail, he thought. This was it.

“A trinket,” the dragon remarked. “Carried by those who would drain the blood from my corpse to prove their conquest. Bring it here, Hugo of the House of Plantagenet.”

Complying, Hugo approached the dragon, who - using a sharp claw, rasped a small incision across his own shoulder.

“Place the cup under the blood flow. There, hold it steady. Good. Now, take that back to the Dauphin and tell him you slew me. But tell him not where you slew me. My blood will be enough. I plan on taking these eggs to a safer kingdom, away from humans.”

Carefully guarding the goblet from spillage, Hugo stepped back from the dragon.

“How do I prove it is your blood?”

“Have you ever felt the blood of a dragon on you?” The dragon asked. “It is as hot as a boiled pot of water and will remain so for your journey back to save your Isabelle. There will be no doubt that it is authentic.”

“Will I ever see you again?” Hugo’s saddened tone asked.

“Only if your kind finds me and attacks me or my kind. So, make sure you’re not living in the path of my fiery retribution.”

“I intend for Isabelle and I to live as far away from any castle we possibly can,” Hugo pledged.

“Begone then, my friend,” the dragon bid farewell. “Promise me you’ll live your lives free of the evil nature of humans.”

With a respectful bow, Hugo turned and briskly walked toward the entrance to the catacombs. Just before he stepped out into the light of day, he glanced back at the dragon – who was cradling the three eggs like a mother hen. A reverberating hum travelled through the chamber accompanied by the echo of a strange type of singing he had never heard before. It sounded like a choir of deep-voiced Gregorian monks trying to chant a lullaby. Briefly listening to the hypnotic tones, Hugo realised that dragons and humans were not too dissimilar in how they valued family and security. Two separate species sharing a common bond of love for their own kind.

“If only humans were more like dragons,” he mused - as he disappeared into the light.

The trail of that thought must have whispered back into the cavern, for at that very same moment, a similar insight swept through the dragon’s thoughts.

“If only humans were more like this boy knight,” the dragon commented to himself - as he hummed to his Zygotte eggs. “Perhaps then, could we learn to live together in peaceful harmony…”