The all-knowing Armon

Dillam has removed the charring with vinegar and polished his armour to a blinding shine. It’s not the easiest thing to do when it’s a hand me down from his Uncle Pillam, to his father, Hillam, to his elder brother Millam, then his second eldest brother Willam and lastly his cousin Nigel. Dillam makes the sign of the cross one, two…. He loses count. Some of the dents could be beaten out. Some of them make it difficult to breathe.

Armon is watching. Dillam is fortunate to have a friend like Armon. Armon’s family have been squires to the Dolts for generations, their assistance invaluable. Dillam is polishing so diligently because Armon said the shine temporarily blinds a dragon. Dillam is not so sure. Armon also told him Princess Erina liked men with facial hair and that didn’t go down well. It gave her a terrible rash. She didn’t speak to him for weeks. Come to think of it, Armon was the one who told him the castle was under attack by mountain trolls. It is Dillam’s job to ring the warning bell because his quarters are the closest to the bell tower and also because of his prowess. There is a very distinctive ring for mountain trolls. You have to ring the bell repeatedly whilst shouting, ‘You are all going to die’ at a volume that can be heard for a two-mile radius.

That also didn’t end well.

Dragon sighting.

No volunteers…

If Dillam comes back from his noble quest… No Dillam. Believe and you will achieve. Manifest destiny or something or other. He really wasn’t listening at the last Chivalric Spiritual Retreat. When he comes back, he will be able to afford to pay someone to shine his armour for him… and ring the bell and clean the lavatory and tidy Armon’s room. Yes. These were the tasks of a squire, but Armon said this was all part of his three-year knightly apprenticeship. A hazing of sorts. Dillam has been a night for five years and is still waiting for the official certificate. Armon said it must have gotten lost in the post.

There has been one positive. Apparently, Princess Erina has a thing for men who slay dragons. No. Armon didn’t tell him that. It was direct from the source. Princess Erina finally unlocked the door to her secret passage and when they last came up for air, she told him herself.

Take that Armon.

Apparently, they want Dillam to leave immediately. Armon said the king’s advisor told him, ‘The villager consumption has reached a statistical threshold’. They could have just said they were running out of people to grow their food. Dillam has written to the king about the need for self-sufficiency countless times. Vertical gardens. The castle has plenty of walls. He is still working out where to put the cows. Armon delivered the appeals because Dillam is not in the King's favour. Not just because of the mountain troll incident, but apparently, the King wants Princess Erina to marry some northern king and there is now some sort of who-ha about purity this and in her condition that. Armon said he didn’t mean to let slip about Dillam accessing the Princess’s secret passage. It just came up in conversation. He said that was another reason Dillam should leave immediately.

Dillam agrees.

Dillam doesn’t think he needs to pack a lot. Armon said grateful villagers along the way would shower him with gifts. He would be turning them away. Armon says questing knights are very popular among the ladies. Dillam has no interest in any woman but Princess Erina. Perhaps Dillam would stop for a night or two anyway because Armon also said the ones Dillam would pass have the best ale in the realm. Dillam has travelled that way before. Perhaps the villagers chasing him away crying ‘Begone you stupid Dolt,’ was some sort of misunderstanding. Apparently, his elder brother did something when he passed through. Armon said it had something to do with divining rods and a chicken. He was short on details. Armon said it would be a completely different story when Dillam wore his shiny armour. He also said it would be best to keep the helm on, just in case. The Dolts have always been known for their distinctive looks. Armon says their fair features are balanced out by some other deficiency but failed to provide those details either.

Armon had everything ready, a few provisions, the new Dolt banner, but at the last minute he said he couldn’t come. Apparently, there is a Squire Personal Development Day tomorrow and it’s compulsory. It’s a shame. Dillam was looking forward to the company. Armon said it was mere coincidence that his father, uncle and brothers were all struck with the same misfortune when it came time to accompany Dillam’s family on quests. They are an unlucky lot. Illness. Injury. Ill-timed religious holidays. Armon said that when Dillam returned triumphant, their long-standing friendship would see Armon receive his share of the glory anyway. Dillam managed to haggle Armon down from a 20-80 split to 50-50.

Dillam doesn’t think the horse should be making this noise. Armon said all horses occasionally bray. He also doesn’t think his feet should be brushing the ground, but Armon… Dillam turns the vertically challenged valiant steed back towards the stables and starts again.

There is a parade…

There are several people…

Armon leans on the wall by the portcullis laughing uncontrollably.

Princess Erina is waving from her window.

No. Being dragged back from the window by… Her father.

Ride faster Dillam.

Dillam doesn’t have far to travel. It’s the only craggy hill for 50 miles. He looks around. Yes. The rest are all undeniably smooth and occupied by cows... A cow. He is sure there were more. Apparently, dragons like eating those raw. No charring to be seen. The roofs. They could put the cows… cow on the roofs... roof.

Dillam is a little disappointed. No one comes to cheer him on. There are no gifts. There are no maidens. No beer. Not even cursing. Apparently, the dragon was aware of the village’s bounties and recently came to partake.

The smell is making Dillam hungry.

The villages nearby may be charred, but the castle is dragon-free because of the Dragon Defence System. Armon said dragons are literate and if you paint, ‘Eat your fill elsewhere, but do not exceed the statistical threshold,’ on the roof of the castle, the dragon pays attention. Dillam thought that was a bit of an exaggeration, but if you climb up the tower it is true. Almost true. What it actually says is, ‘Leave us alone and we will provide room service.’ Dillam thinks dragons must be extremely gullible.

Dillam has it all worked out. When he comes back with the dragon’s head to mount in the king’s hall, he will be wealthy enough to buy whatever he wants. No. He would not take the coin. He would ask for the hand of Princess Erin. How could the king refuse? Generations of his family have recently fought valiantly for the sake of the kingdom. Armon said the King would also be happy to solve some sort of issue with illegitimacy and humiliation.

Dillam sees the hill in question. The cragginess extends all the way to the base. The protruding stone is both a blessing and a disadvantage. Armon said the reason it was so easy for his own cousin to retrieve Dillam’s cousin’s armour was because of those very crags. Apparently, there was some kind of trajectory related something or other that led to Nigel bouncing all the way down here. The disadvantage is that the narrow path winds back and forward so much that Dillam is feeling ill. The higher Dillam gets, the more he must choke back the nausea. The higher Dillam gets he also becomes certain that the belching and bellowing is the dragon. Well, less bellowing and more belching. Perhaps it’s indigestion?

Dillam stops about halfway up to recover and lays some flowers on the four marked graves. Armon said questing is a family tradition and he should be proud of the Dolt’s achievements. All the other knightly families had shirked their responsibilities. Dillam wondered why their shirking hadn’t caused them to fall out of favour. Armon said the Dolts would be celebrated in heaven. Dillam would prefer a more immediate form of recognition, but as Armon said, the afterlife did last for an awful lot longer.

Dillam winds his way to the summit, throws up, and then stands proud. Unfortunately, his horse is far fonder of the windy path than the belching dragon and takes the opportunity Dillam’s motion sickness provides to head back down in haste. Dillam isn’t concerned. He will sever the dragon’s head and then push it off the cliff. Once again, the trajectory related something will be to his benefit.

A cave. Dillam wasn’t expecting that. Armon said nest. He said acquiring a dragon egg would be almost as valuable as the dragon itself and if he had the opportunity Dillam should just grab that and run. He said that not only would it be worth a fortune, but it would mean Armon wouldn’t have to perform the post-questing ritual. He said if Dillam wanted to know what that was he should go ask Armon’s cousin.

Dillam peeps around the corner. Despite its rather unseemly digestive issues, the dragon is beautiful. She reminds Dillam of Princess Erina. Not the shimmering gold scales, or the magnificent iridescent membrane of her wings, or the long jewel-incrusted tail, that is a bonus… OK. Not the best analogy. But just like Princess Erina, the dragon looks in deep, the gaze mesmerising, like she is reading his soul… or is aroused. He really hopes that in this case, it is the first. Oh. She is looking directly at Dillam. Armon said the most important thing about fighting a dragon is to make sure you never make eye contact and even worse, speak.

Dillam thinks about past circumstances and steps out.

“My apologies, but you’ve been causing a bit of trouble. You might not realise it, but the villagers really aren’t fond of being eaten. If you will just stand still.” Dillam draws his sword… His dull sword. Armon said he…

The dragon smiles and Dillam is dazzled. What a magnificent beast. Even in the face of certain death, she stands proud. Dillam thinks it will be a shame to hack and chop at this beautiful creature. He looks at his blade and then back at the scales. Dillam also thinks the task might be more difficult than he imagined. Armon said a single stab through one of her eyes and then a sawing motion would get the job done. Dillam really should have brought a stepladder. Oh, thank goodness. She has obligingly lowered her head.

Best get this over with.

Dillam raises the blade and prepares to run…

The dragon draws in a rather human sigh, as if resigning herself to her fate, and Dillam hesitates. That look. A dragon in flight is terrifying, and though she is large enough to fill the king’s hall, she looks so very vulnerable. Those pleading eyes. Those surprisingly short limbs. He can’t do it. She is glorious. Yes, she was a bother, but had she wronged him personally? Well now that he thinks about it, yes, but he will end this terrible cycle of violence right here and now. Dillam drops to a knee because Armon said that if he couldn’t take an egg and decided not to kill the dragon… Well, he actually said that if Dillam grew a brain, he should kneel. Something about providing a smaller area for direct contact and vinegar and polishing. Dillam wasn’t really paying attention.

He kneels.

“Magnificent beast. I, Hallam Dolt, will allow you to leave this place, head intact. I…

In his last moments, Dillam has only one thought. He really should have paid the other squires to help him force Armon into Dillam’s shiny dented armour and then push him down the well.

The dragon looks hard. This one is familiar, something about the nose and the shape of the eyes. Bruce peers in deeper. Yes. Another. Bred for purpose. What was he up to this year? Five. They never learn.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

That’s enough. Things to do. Places to be. In preparation, Bruce lowers his head. Target acquired. He draws in a long slow breath and then lets it out slowly. Flame requires one to reach a state of mind that transcends… Well not really.

The flame charrs steel, flesh and bone.

Bruce snorts. They always flail. It never gets old. One is enough or else his nostrils will feel raw for days. He really should have left him lightly toasted, but Bruce had already eaten. That, and the shell is hard to crack open. He prefers them already peeled. He broke a nail on that last one. Bruce lets out a rather large belch and tastes chicken. He kind of overdid it this morning. The small ones give him indigestion. He really should chew, but they just slide down.

Bruce stretches his neck, left and then right. He splays his shimmering wings wide and flaps them slowly several times. He judges the distance, then scans the runway. No. This won’t do. Bruce waddles forward, a dragon on land is not a pretty site, and then sweeps the corpse from his path and off the cliff.

He leans over and watches.

Bounce, bounce, bounce. Abrupt stop.

Bruce should have pushed him a little to the left and he would have kept bouncing at least four more times. That would have equalled his record.

Lesson learned.

He backs up five steps, and then runs and launches skyward. Bruce hopes no one is watching. Nothing dispels awe, fear and magnificence like a dragon running. It’s far worse than walking. Why are their arms and legs so short? A quandary for another time. A conversation starter at the next gathering. When was that? One... Two hundred years?

Bruce banks right then dips down over a nearby village he has left untouched for pure amusement. They scatter so quickly. Ants of sorts, only far less intelligent. As if hiding inside those little houses will do anything.

Two long beats and the buildings become specs in his peripheral. The castle. Yes. They deserve a visit. Room service indeed. He drops onto the tiles and burns away the white lettering. He extends a single claw and writes. Just for fun he leans over and sets a few things alight. Bruce will pay for it tomorrow, his nostrils really are a little raw, but it is worth it for entertainment value alone. More flailing and running. He takes advantage of the lack of an audience, gets a run-off, and launches into the air in a spray of tiles.

North. Bruce would head north. A cooler climate means a meatier snack. The skinny peeled ones get stuck in his teeth. A castle. He would scare them stupid so they congregate in a building of his choosing. From what he had observed, these fatter ones self-peel in their natural habitat.

Armon isn’t in the best of moods. First, he has to extinguish the fire. Then, in the absence of Dillam, he has been asked to climb up the tower and assess the damage. It’s a disaster, missing tiles… A trail of missing tiles as if something the size of a house was dragged off the end. A message. ‘Next… Rime? Time. Next time I am dining in’.

Armon thinks it is time for him to head off on his own quest. He would do the post-questing ritual, hopefully the bounce trajectory was in his favour, and then retrieve Dillam’s horse and assume his identity. North. Yes. A princess of his own.