A Lucky Knight

A sleepy river wound its way through the houses and huts of Hamdorn, a peaceful village in the kingdom of Bardton. The river provided the essentials for the village to thrive: water, fish, and boats laden with goods from Elgin. However, tonight, it added one more essential: a romantic backdrop. Sir Dugmore and Lady Frances walked along its grassy banks, holding hands and speaking in hushed tones.

"I don't understand," Sir Dugmore said.

"What's so hard to understand about liking dragons?” Lady Frances said.

"The part where you like them?"

'Well, now you have."

"You are laughing?"

"No."

"You are with your eyes." He looked intensely at her with a grin. "You are jesting with me?"

"I am serious," now she laughed. "When I was a little girl, I saw a green one with flecks of purple and deep blue scales fly over my house. She was so beautiful."

"How do you know it was a female?" He questioned with a smile. "It is impossible to tell."

"Okay, Dragon Slayer," she said in a playful mocking tone, "I don't know what it was, but I've always believed it was a female. It was too beautiful to be otherwise."

He laughed, "Dragons beautiful? Not in my book. Dangerous and sly is more like it."

"I would expect nothing less from a dragon slayer. Your line of work has blinded you."

"Many dragons have tried."

"Be serious. You have only fought dragons. You have never tried to get to know them."

"They never seem to be in a conversational mood, with them spewing fire at me and all."

"I'm done talking with you," she acted offended, turned her head, and walked a little before him.

"I'm sorry. Please forgive my crude behavior," he said as he caught up to her.

 "I might," she smiled.

"What must I do?"

"You could change careers."

"Sorry?"

Her expression became serious. "The past few days with you have been wonderful, but I can't agree to marry you because of what you do."

"Slay Dragons?"

"Yes."

"But it is the most noble calling of a knight."

"Not in my opinion."

"It's the highest-paid."

"I don't care about money. If you really want to marry me, then stop."

"What would I do if I did?"

"You could go on quests, guard castles, or go around protecting the weak."

"Is there any compromise? I love you more than words can say. However, I would be grateful if there is any way to avoid a pay cut. I want us to have a lovely house, nice clothes, and financial stability. Knights who go on quests hardly get paid since they usually never find what they seek. Guarding castles is the lowest-paid position, and as for protecting the weak, I have always believed I was doing that by slaying dragons.”

"You've thought of our future? That is so sweet. There may be a compromise. What if you don't kill the dragon but instead convince it to relocate. Your employer would be happy, and so would I."

"I have never negotiated with a dragon before, but I am willing to try for your hand in marriage."

"Prove that you can do it, and I will marry you."

They held hands again and headed back to her father's house. As they went, Sir Dugmore's mind raced as he began to realize the difficult position he put himself into, but then he took another look at the beautiful Lady Frances, and it erased all confusion.

* * * * * * *

Two weeks later, near the castle of Igstone, Sir Dugmore advanced cautiously to the mouth of the cave that housed Moog, the red dragon. Lord Adar hired him to rid his land of this evil menace. A breeze escaped the mouth of the cave as he entered by skirting the wall. He felt the dragon's presence before he could see it. He heard the breathing of the dragon and could smell its sulfurous breath. He grabbed his prized invisibility cloak he purchased for a significant sum from a wizard. It not only protected him from being seen but also from being smelled, which is equally important when dealing with dragons. Then he pulled out his dragon-scale sword, capable of cutting through the dragon's scales. Armed and hidden, he put a flute to his lips, but instead of producing music, it bounced his voice from place to place to confuse the dragon of his whereabouts.

"Hello," he blew the flute, and his voice sounded like it came from the other side of the cave.

The dragon stopped breathing and began to stir. He stretched and sat up on his front legs, shaking his head while looking towards where the voice came from. "Have you come here to die?"

"It's not on my list of things to do today, but I would like to talk." This time, his voice came from behind the dragon, and Moog turned towards it.

"Where are you?" Moog asked. The monstrous red dragon rose to all fours, sniffing the air. He scanned the cave but saw no one. "How can I hear you from different directions but can't see or smell you?"

"I have my secrets."

"Who are you?" Moog was stalling while he searched.

"I'm Sir Dugmore. Perhaps you've heard of me?" His voice now came from a corner of the cave.

"Sir Dugmore? The name does sound familiar. Are you the infamous knight who slew Brygon, the orange?" He continued searching with his long neck stretched, sniffing the corner.

"I am. However, I have changed."

"How? Do you just talk to dragons now instead of killing them? Am I supposed to believe you?”

"I could have killed you already. My sword is made of dragon scale."

Moog suddenly pulled his neck back and crouched in fear. He knew the power of a dragon-scale sword. "Alright, Sir Dugmore, what do you propose?"

"Lord Adar has hired me to get rid of you, so you must go, but we could skip the fight and devise a better idea.”

"I'm listening."

"I found a cave in the north that would be perfect for you. It is isolated and the land around abounds with mountain goats and rams. If you agree to move, I won't kill you."

"I have been thinking about leaving here. It has grown too populous, and Lord Adar keeps sending knights to kill me. I'm not getting any younger, and eventually, one of them will succeed," the great beast paused to think. "I agree to your terms."

"Great. There is just one more catch. You see, I only get paid if you die. So, I need you to pretend to die. I thought I could shoot you with an arrow after you fly out of your cave to supposedly cause havoc and mayhem."

"Arrows can't pierce my scales. Everyone knows that."

"Of course, but everyone also knows all dragons have one scale missing on their belly."

"Ha. No man can hit such a small target. It's only two fingers in size."

"I know. However, if you fall after I shoot my arrow, everyone will believe it because people saw it with their own eyes."

"I guess so. Men are stupid. It should work. But won't they find me and try to steal my scales?"

"They would, but I won't shoot until you fly over Lake Refleet. It is so deep no one will try to scavenge your scales. All you must do is stay underwater until dark, then fly to your new cave."

"Do I fly out now?"

"Give me five minutes to get my bow, and remember to head towards the lake. It wouldn't hurt if you blew out fire and roared a little to get everyone's attention."

They both readied themselves for the play to begin. After five minutes, Moog flew out of his cave, roaring and blowing fire. He flew over the lake and circled a few times. Sir Dugmore pulled back on his bow, closed his eyes, and let the arrow fly. It sped through the air into the tiny exposed spot on Moog's belly. When Sir Dugmore opened his eyes, he saw Moog grasping the arrow as he fell into the water.

"Oh, dear God, what have I done?" Sir Dugmore lowered his head and thought of his beloved Frances. "What will she say when she hears that I killed him?"

* * * * * * *

Sir Dugmore rode back to Hamdorn with a heavy heart. How could I have made that shot? It was one in a million, he thought. As he neared the village, he saw Lady Frances walking towards him. Even from this distance, he could see she wasn't happy. Obviously, she had already heard.

He pulled on the reins, dismounted, and tied his horse to a hitching post. "Hello, my love."

She stood tapping her foot while he parked his horse. "Hello? Is that all you have to say?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to shoot an arrow at the dragon?"

"No, I did mean to do that, but I didn't mean to hit him."

"So you just accidentally hit a spot no bigger than my hand while he was flying hundreds of feet in the air at great speed? Is that what I'm supposed to believe?"

"It was a one-in-a-million shot. I didn't even have my eyes open."

"A one in a million? Are you sure about that?"

"Well, I guess it could have been a one in eight hundred thousand. Maybe a million is a bit of an exaggeration. But I really didn't mean to shoot him. It was only supposed to look like I shot him."

"Well, it definitely looked like you shot him. Wait a minute, that's because you did."

"I don't know what to say. Please forgive me for being so lucky?"

She stomped her foot down, turned, and walked away.

Sir Dugmore hung his head down and went back to his horse. He got a room in a local inn in hopes that Lady Frances would change her mind. But after a few months, he fell into a depression and tried to drown it at the local pub. The villagers couldn't understand his behavior since they all saw him as a hero, the knight who made a one-in-a-million shot. Many nights, Sir Dugmore would get drunk and say, "One in a million," repeatedly. The men in the pub would cheer each time, thinking he was bragging. Some nights, he would drink so much he would pass out. The pub owner would get a few men to help him carry Sir Dugmore to his room. Once in bed, they could hear him softly say, "One in a million. One in a million."

The pub owner said, "That's right. You made an impossible shot. You are a lucky man."