What Would Gladys Think ?

The young man gently pulled on the reins, the rough rope feeling almost silky in his heavily calloused hands. The horse exhaled and shook its large head as it responded to its master’s demands, coming to a halt in the short, dew-rich grass beside the gentle stream. The horse appeared uncharacteristically nervous and agitated, a feeling that was shared by the knight mounted on its back. An indescribable sense of dread and uneasiness grew within him. He raised his visor and dutifully surveyed the forest. His sense of uneasiness did not subside. He slowly removed his helmet expecting to hear the intoxicating sounds of the forest, the buzzing insects, the incessant and heart-warming calls of the birds usually so voracious at this time of the year. Nothing. He felt the warm, gentle breeze of the wind against his dry skin and, as expected, heard the seductive and hypnotising trickle of the stream. But something was missing, something was undeniably wrong.

He dismounted, securing his loyal steed to a nearby oak, resplendent in the warm, early morning sun. The bark felt welcoming beneath his weather-beaten fingers, like an old and trusted friend. The breeze suddenly brought the beautiful fragrance of a nearby wild honeysuckle to his keen attention, bringing back memories of a beautiful young maiden and a temporary halt to his troubles. He looked around for any signs that could confirm his worries. As he turned to his left a large shadow briefly passed over the sun behind him, briefly blocking out all light and casting utter fear into the young man’s heart. He instinctively knew what had caused the sudden shadow and he now knew why the birds were not singing. They, like all other living creatures, were hiding in terror, terrified of the skies and the danger from above. After many years of peace the legendary monster had returned and the world would never be the same again.

The young knight cast his gaze to the west and knew that the cold, hard mountains would be the one place that offered security to this famed creature. The mountains offered sanctuary, a harsh, unforgiving place within which the creature could hide and rest. The young man returned his gaze to the gentle stream, the source of which he knew also lay up in the high mountains.  How could something so calm, so beautiful and so innocent originate in a land inhabited by the winged serpent ? He had no choice, his fate was sealed. Untying his steed from the mighty oak, he placed his hand on the trunk and paused, allowing the energy of the forest to once more enter his already weary body. He mounted, turned and headed off towards the mountains and, more specifically,  towards the many caverns that lay beneath.

The cave mouth was anything but inviting, for the knight knew what secrets it held and what evil lay within its walls. The beast of all beasts had chosen this place as a refuge, a haven and a place it could easily defend.

The air was stagnant and heavy with expectation, silent but for the heavy pounding of his heart. What he would have given to be back in the forest beside the gentle stream with fresh air in his lungs. That was not to be. The foul, putrid stench was becoming overbearing, becoming stronger with every step. With darkness growing it was becoming more difficult for his eyes to penetrate the gloom with any clarity. His opponent was, as yet, unwilling to reveal itself and make the first move. The intrepid knight gripped the heavy sword with both hands knowing that his future, and the future of his quest, lay in the keenness of that very blade.

At the edge of the darkness an even darker shadow lurked, immense, filling the air with a sense of monstrous dread and foreboding. Legends have been passed down through the ages of the invincible beast, as old as the earth itself, the destroyer of dreams. He was about to encounter the dragon far from the aid of any other man. The crushing feeling of utter despair began to take its hold.

Two large reptilian eyes glared unflinchingly at him, totally focused, looking through his heavy armour and piercing his very soul. A growing dread fell on him and he swallowed hard, aware of the huge task that lay ahead of him. Never before had he encountered such a magnificently powerful foe. Death and despair oozed from its jaws, its huge claws sharp enough to tear any living beast into a hundred pieces.

Time was against him. If the blade did not find its mark very soon then the princess would be lost forever, bringing endless despair to thousands of innocent lives. Knowing that it was now or never, the knight took the bravest and most important step forward in his young life. He wanted to be a boy again, safe in the comfort of his mother’s arms as she stroked his soft hair and caressed his cheek. But that was not to be, and there was no turning back. The beast released a long and fearful breath, as if it were mocking the knight for being foolish enough to enter its hallowed lair. The smell was overpowering, the stench of a hundred rotten carcasses released in a single moment.

Mustering up the remains of his courage, the fearless warrior attempted to lay down the terms of what was inevitably going to become doom - either his own or that of the ancient dragon.

”Come forward, beast of darkness, reveal thyself and face thy fate !” he bellowed, ready to swing the shining double-edged blade into action the moment the beast left the safety of the shadows. The beast did not respond to his demands. Instead, it slowly raised itself to its full height, a full three score metres above the coldness of the cave floor. The large wings slowly unfolded to reveal their vast size, encapsulating the diminishing human form that stood before them. The knight held both his ground and his nerve.

“You have ravished this land and terrorized the good people for too long. Now you must pay the price for your treacherous deeds,” declared the knight.

“Is that so ?” The sinister and hoarse reply brought terror to the young man and he felt his once infallible knees weaken, the blade beginning to tremble in his muscular hands.

“I have been sent forth by the king and the good people of this land to put an end to your miserable life once and for all,” he replied defiantly. “Prepare to… .”

The knight never managed to complete his threat, for at that point there was a sound so strange and alien that both parties were momentarily frozen in both time and in their actions. Was it music ? What could it mean ? Was it a blessed signal from the Gods ?

“Pray hold, for one moment,” requested the knight. He reached beneath his once shiny breastplate to reveal a small dark item, hidden from the dragon’s acute vision. Yet again, the musical notes emanated from the small object, the sound reverberating off the damp, stony walls of the cavern.

The warrior placed the object to his ear and the beast was astonished, despite the severity of the situation, to observe a smile appear on the face of his adversary. Tiny to begin with, almost imperceptible to all but the sharpest of eyes, but it was there – a smile. Suddenly the smile erupted into something that the dragon had not encountered before. Was it happiness ? A display of pure joy ? Whatever it was, it was a state of being that was virtually incomprehensible to the old dragon.

“It’s ok. I didn’t recognise my own ringtone there for a second !” the knight shouted as he held the phone to his ear. “It’s just my mum. Do you mind if I put her on speaker phone ? Must be the echo or something, I can’t seem to hear a word she’s saying.”

“Be my guest,” hissed the beast, somewhat bewildered by the sudden change in events.

“Ok mum, you’re on speaker phone. Go ahead.”

“Where are you, Timothy my love ?” said the voice of a caring and concerned mother. “You said you were coming round this afternoon to fix the ballcock in the toilet. Your father is as useless as ever. God knows what I ever saw in him ? Gladys next door would never tolerate this from her Peter. In the meantime the damn thing won’t flush and I can only sit here cross-legged for so long, you know !”

“Sorry mum, but I had to come into work. Listen, hang on a minute.” The young man lowered the blade and rested the tip on the stone floor, resting the weight of his weary body on it. “Gees, that’s better. Why they still make these bloody things out of heavy iron I don’t know. ”

“I agree,” interrupted the dragon. “Especially when there are so many lightweight alternatives nowadays that look just as effective, but are a fraction of the weight.” He appeared to be enjoying the unexpected halt in proceedings.

“So mum, I’m currently about to kill this legendary dragon, rescue a princess and save the kingdom. Once I’ve done that I’ll come straight over and fix your toilet. How does that sound ?”

“I thought you stopped all that fantasy stuff, darling ? ” mum asked. “You know what happened last time, or do I need to remind you ? That last dragon you fought all but ruined your favourite hero outfit. Remember ? You were upset for weeks. To be honest I don’t think I’ll ever fully get the stains out as long as I live.”

“It’s all part and parcel of being a freelance story character mum. My agent calls me with a story, usually there’s an evil, twisted monster to fight and then I rescue some princess or whatever and end up making the world a better place. Someone has to do it and Emily down the chip shop reckons I look rather ravishing in a suit of armour. I’m just her cup of tea, she says.”

“Who are you calling evil and twisted ? ” snapped the dragon. “I’ll have you know that I’m a jolly good sort, and a life member of the Royal Society For the Protection of Birds !”

“Sorry mum, but I’ve got to go. As soon as I’m done here I’ll pop over. I’ll have your toilet and your bladder all sorted before the end of the day, I promise. Then you can go next door and tell Gladys what a wonderful son you have.”

“Ok Timmy, take care and mind where you point that sword. You’ll have someone’s eye out. ”

“Love you, mum.” With that the knight ended the call and replaced the phone behind the breastplate.

“Well that changes things a bit, doesn’t it…..Timmy ? “ sniggered the old dragon.

“I guess it does, ” replied the young man.

“Sir Timothy ! Not the greatest and romantic name for a loyal knight of the king, but we all have our crosses to bear I guess. So, I’m guessing you’re a freelance story character, huh ?”

“Yep. You ?”

“Yeah, six years now,” said the dragon. “It’s not ideal, but the tax benefits make it more appealing these days.”

“You’re not wrong, my scaly foe. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always pleased to get a call from my agent, but I just wish he’d drop all this old fashioned fairy tale nonsense and get me some more contemporary work,” said Timothy exasperatedly. “Don’t you ever get fed up being the bad guy, the horrible dragon who never even ends up getting mentioned in the credits ?”

“The scary dragon played by Graham. My real name’s Graham.”

“Graham ? Graham ? And you’re taking the piss out of Timothy ?”

“Ok, ok. Don’t even start me on that one, brother, ” the large lizard replied, returning his immense wings back to their resting position. “You’d think in this modern era that the demise of stereotypes would be promoted. Why can’t a dragon be a positive role model in society for a change, why is the knight always the good guy and why is the princess always a chick ?”

“I have no idea, my friend, ” replied Sir Timothy. “So what happens now ? I don’t really want to kill you, or save the princess for that matter. In fact, if you ask me she’s a bit above her station. I don’t know what sort of deal her agent managed to secure for her, but I’m sure it’s over-inflated and unjustified. There must be something better than this ?”

Graham reflected on Sir Timothy’s words for a moment before speaking. “I’m beginning to think there must be a mutually beneficial way of resolving this. You don’t want to slay me in an overly dramatic and theatrical fashion, and I’m not keen on turning you into toast either. So let’s try and make a deal, eh ?”  

“Like what ?” asked Sir Timothy, slowly removing his helmet for the second time in the story and wiping the sweat off his manly brow.

“Well, we could both call our agents and tell them we’ve had a change of heart ? Simple, but…. potentially effective.”

Sir Timothy sighed. “Not sure my agent would fall for that old chestnut,” he said. “He’s a bit of an arsehole. Signed contract and all that jazz.”

“Then why don’t we just pretend we fought,” suggested Graham. “Then you rush off, save the princess, give her a peck on the lips and all that luvvy duvvy stuff and then the kingdom is saved. Everyone lives happily ever after. We both get paid. The end.”

For a moment Sir Timothy’s face lit up with excitement at the thought of the mutually agreeable solution, one in which no wounds were inflicted and no unsightly or persistent stains remained on any clothing. A few moments later a frown began to inhabit his face, suggesting that he had identified a flaw in the plan, much to Graham’s dismay.

“But the guy who’s writing this story will know, won’t he ?” Timothy began to explain. 

“That’s the point. Everything that we say, or think, is written down in print for everyone to read, even this conversation. That’s what a story is. If you farted, yeah, even discreetly in the corner of the cave then everyone would know about it, and the author would probably use lots of fancy words to describe how awful it smelt. Right there for everyone to read. There’s nowhere to hide - admit it. We’d never get away with it !”

Graham was clearly in deep thought, distressed that his initial and seemingly ingenious plan was torn to pieces in seconds by Sir Timothy. “But wait a minute !” he suddenly exclaimed. “These fairy tales are only read by children. They wouldn’t know or care that we never really fought, as long as the princess is saved. We could pull it off for sure. Come on, what d’ya say, Timmy ma boy ?”

“Do you know how many adults are into fantasy, sci-fi and all that ? Some of these people never grow up. I’ve got a 50 year old mate whose Facebook profile is him dressed up as Luke Skywalker for crying out loud ! I mean how sad can you get ? It would only take one said adult to question the plot and we’d never get any work again. My suit of armour would literally be on the scrap heap and as a dragon, well, excuse the pun but you’d be fired !”

“So what do we do, Sir Timothy ?”

“I don’t know Graham. I really don’t know. But we need to work this out pretty damn quick. I’ve got a toilet to fix later this afternoon and I don’t want Gladys next door thinking badly of me.”