The Knight Who Wanted a Song

A cool, soft breeze gently danced through the Princess’ tower window as the sun began to rise up from the horizon. The breeze always felt strange upon her skin, so delicate and almost gossamer. The pink and purple pastels she wore suited her body though, and her long, long hair glittered like spun gold. The cold tiles always felt uncomfortable beneath her bare feet, for she was used to heat and warmth. She missed the feeling of warm sand with nothing between you and a blazing sun except hot air you could dance in. The forest in which she now found her home was not quite to her liking.

She was used to being alone, for she was the only one in the tall tower overlooking the wild forest. There was peace in the solitary. Although she did sometimes become a little bored.

But eventually, as always, a Prince would come.

*****

The “Prince” in question was actually no Prince. He was a knight, a good knight even. But a knight nonetheless. He knew that many Princes had already put forth their hand to rescue the Princess, and many others of noble birth.

None had returned.

It was a well-known fact in the Kingdom that over a year ago, a ferocious dragon had stolen the Princess away. Its scales gleamed like blood rubies, its fire melted parts of the castle and its massive wings caused trees to bend down. No-one knew why the Princess had been stolen away, or even, really, if she was still alive. But the King and Queen held out hope, for the dragon had not returned to pillage the land, so surely it was still busy guarding its stolen charge.

At first, the offer to rescue the Princess was only offered to the Princes, and those of high-ranking nobles. The prize was, of course, marriage to the Princess and being the future ruler of the Kingdom. In the meantime, a wonderful lakeside castle was offered for them to live in until the crown passed on.

Many brave men were lured by that promise, most of them well trained in swords and warfare, all of them arrogant to a fault.

That arrogance began losing its shine as none of the self-assured nobles and Princes returned. It was assumed that they were all dead, but perhaps some had escaped and could not bear to return in their shame.

As time went by, less nobles and Princes offered themselves up, although in the end there were very few that remained.

Desperate, the King and Queen extended the offer to anyone who was brave enough to face the might of a dragon. That drew in a flood: some desperate, some brave, some deluded and some, like the knight, who wanted to be a hero in the songs.

The knight strode through the great marbled hall and bowed deeply before the two thrones that stood there.

“Greetings, oh Great Majesties. My name is Ser Aiden of Ardalan, a small town not too far from your palace. I come before you to pledge by sword to the rescuing of your daughter.”

He drew his sword, a family heirloom of great make, and held it before them.

The King, a man still in his prime but lined and fatigued with loss and worry, stood and strode towards the knight.

“I give you my blessing, Ser Aiden of Ardalan. Rescue you our daughter and bring her home, and the keys to the kingdom will be yours, and your heirs will rule after us,” he boomed throughout the hall.

The knight rose from his supplication and nodded firmly.

“I shall!” he declared.

Then with a sweep of his crimson cape and the glint of the sunlight on his armour, he strode from the palace to begin his journey.

*****

The knight Ser Aiden leaped on his prancing white stallion, the women of the court and palace servants swooning. He was a tall man, in dashing armour with hair the colour of night and eyes as blue as the sky. His eyes were rare in the Kingdom, a gift from his dearly departed mother, a foreign beauty.

He had risen to prominence through his charm and good deeds and buried deep within him was a burning ambition that had been sparked by the news of the Princess’ change in rescuers. He wished to honor his parents and carve out the life that they themselves should have had.

It also didn’t hurt that he would like a song sung in his hero’s name – Ser Aiden the Noble, Dragon-Slayer.

*****

The dragon had flown off with the Princess to the West. Far, far in the distance stood a mountain range that marked the border of the Kingdom and a huge, ancient forest grew up to its base. The knight knew he would find the Princess – and the dragon – either in the forest or in the mountains. He galloped off on his valiant steed and planned how to take down the most fearsome of all the beasts – a dragon.

*****

He knew from experience, although not direct experience, that dragons were notoriously hard to slay. They had scales stronger than the toughest armour, teeth and talons sharper than the greatest blades and wings so massive that they could knock you down and pin you to the ground. This dragon was a red one, said to be the most vicious and the most cunning. Why it had decided to attack the Kingdom and kidnap the Princess, no one knew. Perhaps Ser Aiden would find out before he slayed the dragon.

The road towards the forest of the mountains had become a dangerous one. Other fell beasts had been drawn to the paths, drawn by the dragon’s malicious presence. Bandits and other unsavory characters also haunted the roads, knowing that the Princes and heroes all carried on them great wealth in the jewels they wore or their glittering armour. Even the swords they wielded would be better than any a bandit could make or buy for themselves. The brave knight managed to face and defeat the dangers before him, although they tired him and made his journey longer and longer. He had yet to scour the forests and the mountains to find the dragon’s lair. As far as he knew, no one knew exactly where it was.

Eventually he reached the outskirts of the great forest.

The trees were tall, echoing the mountains’ height behind them with trunks so thick and wide that a horse could easily hide behind them. The branches were gnarled and twisting, clothed in dark green foliage that seemed to whisper maliciously in the wind. There was one road winding through, but it was faint and narrow and Ser Aiden had a strong feeling that eventually the road would disappear and he would be lost.

He reined in his steed and tried thinking of a plan.

From a small group of bushes by the side of the road, there was a rustling.

Ser Aiden drew his sword and prepared to fight.

“Who goes there?” he shouted.

A figure emerged from the bushes – a man who looked dusty from the road like he too had been travelling, or camping.

“Just a humble traveler. I have been camped here for many moons, ever since I saw the red dragon that all the nobles and Princes have been searching for. I am the only one who saw in which direction it flew,” he said in a voice that seemed hoarse from disuse.

“Has any one returned this way?” the knight asked.

The man sadly shook his head.

“None who have entered that deep forest have ever come out, at least not by this road.”

“Are there other roads through the forest?” Ser Aiden asked.

“No, there are not.”

“Which way did the dragon fly then, good sir?” the knight asked, his anxiety spiking as he knew his time to face this foe drew nearer.

“It flew straight towards the highest peak there,” he pointed to a snowy mountain top. “If you follow that peak surely you will find its lair. It descended somewhere into the forest there. Look for signs of its passing, for sometimes it flies lowly when it hunts away from its home.”

Without another word, the knight left the man behind and galloped into the forest.

*****

The forest was dark and silent, the only sound of hoofbeats on dead matter and solid wooden ground. Even that metallic sound of horseshoes was dull, swallowed up by the towering giants.

There were no bird sounds here, nor sounds of any animal life. All had been chased away by the dragon – or devoured.

He slowed as the gloom deepened and as he tried to look past the thick canopy of leaves, he found that he could not clearly see the sky, although he was sure the sun still shone as he had only entered the forest at midday.

He was certain that the mountain peak was still before him, for he had set as straight a path as he could. The trees were spaced well apart and the area was strangely bereft of low-lying shrubs and bushes. It was just leaves and dirt and dead twigs.

He slowed to a trot and then a walk as he sensed a great space up ahead.

Slowly, light started to pierce through the gloom and the pathway in front of him brightened slightly. He followed that, wondering if he had reached the end of the great forest already, or if this was simply a clearing.

Closer, closer, closer. He stopped his horse, silencing the jingle of the saddle and the metallic ting of the horseshoes. Faintly, he heard what sounded like humming coming from high above.

Eventually the trees thinned and he found himself in a clearing indeed. It was a massive clearing, almost a perfect circle and surrounded by trees whose branches bore signs of something massive rubbing against them and breaking them.

In the perfect centre of this clearing stood a tower.

It was old and covered in ivy that had forced its way in between the grey stone. The roof was a slanted dome of red and below that was an open window, bathed in soft yellow light. It was from this window that the noise flowed, louder now.

It was indeed a humming, a lilting tune that sounded as old as the trees and the rocks of the mountains.

“Are you there, oh fair maiden?” Ser Aiden shouted, dismounting from his horse.

The humming broke off and a figure emerged to stand in front of the window.

“Quiet, you fool!” came a voice whispered fiercely. “You will bring the dragon back!”

Cursing himself, the knight scanned the area, looking for signs of the beast. There were none, although that did not mean anything.

Who knew of the magics that dragons possessed.

“I have come to rescue you,” he whispered back, his voice barely carrying.

The Princess must have had good hearing.

“Yes, you and all the others. They have all failed. Why would you be any different?” she asked, frantically turning her golden-haired head left and right.

“Because they were all fools who thought they were mighty and brave. I have no such arrogance, only my earnest efforts. God fortunes the humble,” he replied.

The Princess laughed, a rather derisive laugh.

“God favours no one, least of all the humble,” she said.

The knight paused. She did not sound very much like a Princess.

“I can see why you may have lost hope, dear Princess, but you must not! There is always a way if one is strong enough.”

Although he could not see it, the Princess rolled her eyes.

A great gust of wind suddenly rolled through the tops of the forest, and the knight noticed the sun had started sinking towards the horizon. How long had he been in the forest?

“Quick! You must hide up here with me! I can try to hide you from the dragon. He usually comes back at sunset to torment me!” she began quickly tying the long strands of her hands into a braid.

“I shall simply leave now, before he comes and return to you at night when he has gone,” the knight said.

Ser Aiden did not particularly feel like fighting a dragon in the darkness of knight.

“He will see you, he will hear you, he will smell you out. He is a cunning old beast,” she said as she continued her work.

“And how will he not know I am up there with you?” the knight asked, torn between listening to her and, quite honestly, fleeing for his life. After all, the Princess was not harmed, or dead, so he could always return, perhaps with more men.

“The flowers and fruits that he brings will mask your scent. He is used to them, used to mine. Now stop asking questions and CLIMB!” she said, her voice finally rising to more than a whisper.

She threw her long braid of hair down the side of the tower. It was long enough for him to climb. He could not see any doors to enter the tower, and she seemed so urgent he did not want to waste time looking for something that didn’t exist. If the tower had a door, the Princess would have used it long ago.

He climbed the braid.

*****

He was worried he was hurting her, but she did not react to his weight as he climbed laboriously up. In fact, she seemed far more interested in watching him as he approached.

Finally, trying not to breathe too hard lest she think him weak, he reached the top and pulled himself up over the window ledge. He managed to land on his feet and execute a decent bow before taking a good look at his surrounding – and at the Princess.

The room he stood in was large, far larger than it should have been. The roof seemed to soar upwards and the floor seemed to stretch out past the boundaries of the physical tower he had climbed.

Dragon magic.

There was a canopied bed with bookshelves on almost every wall. Closets stood opened with dresses of all colours, but mainly light and pastels and a full length mirror gloriously wrought stood nearby. As the Princess had said, fruits and flowers were everywhere.

“Who are you? You aren’t a noble,” the Princess suddenly said.

She was staring intently at him and the more she looked, the more reptilian-like her face became.

“Indeed I am not, my lady, and I am sorry for that. But your father desperately wants you home and I would like to fulfil his wish,” he said, struck by her beauty as he saw her properly.

She began pacing around him, her pink-purple skirts softly swishing the ground along with her hair. She was tall and slender with perfect lips and a perfect heart-shaped face. All of her was fair and took his breath away.

All except her golden eyes and how she stared at him.

“Why are there no more nobles and Princes? It has been a while since I’ve had one of them. Have they all given up on me, the poor kidnapped Princess?” she simpered, and something about her voice struck him as disjointed.

Ser Aiden looked out at the window and saw that the sun was just about to dip below the horizon.

“Where will you hide me for when the dragon returns? You said it would be soon, and I do not wish to die just yet,” he said.

She Princess grinned, her teeth gleaming white.

“There is no hiding from the dragon now,” she said, her voice becoming deeper and more disjointed.

She kept circling him, except now instead of simply examining him, she seemed to be stalking him, round and round and round.

“Wha-” the knight began to say, but terror seized his throat.

The Princess was growing taller, larger and her eyes, those golden eyes were now slitted, predatory. Her braid grew longer, strengthening and lengthening until its ends turned into a point and spikes grew out from skin that was stretched and patchy with hints of red.

“None shall ever escape me,” she said, her face dissolving into long, gnashing teeth, her eyes burning.

Ser Aiden wished it was all a dream.

With a final, shuddering horror, the Princess had disappeared and, in her place, stood the red dragon.

The lashing tail hit a dark pile in the corner and there was a clattering as it collapsed. Ser Aiden’s eyes bulged as he saw what it was – armour and swords and bits of coloured, charred fabric that still clung to them.

“The nobles always taste the best,” the dragon hissed at him, his breathe so foul he nearly vomited. “That is why you steal the Princesses. They attract nobles like flies to honey. Eating the Princess always gives me such an appetite too. They all cling to the hope that she is alive and she is, in a way. She lives on in my bones, her shape I can take when the sun lights the land. That’s how I lure you foolish mortals to me. It is so, so easy.”

Ser Aiden ceased to function and fell to the floor.

“No matter. Meat is meat and I will feast upon you, and then the next and the next until this Kingdom has spent its greatest souls. Then I shall wreak havoc upon the land and eat my fill then. Goodbye, puny knight.”

The dragon drew back its head and Ser Aiden could see the flickering flames of his death as the dragon inhaled and then roared a pillar of flame.

He would never become the hero of whom songs were sung.