The Dragon's Knight

Personally, I like the big guy, but that’s just me, you understand? I feel as though if the king wanted me to go slay a dragon, he should have picked a nastier one. This fellow ain’t bad at all is the problem. I showed up and he was just sitting there lighting the occasional tree on fire. Well, I suppose if you like trees, that sort of thing might upset you, but a tree never did me any favors, so what issue should I take with it?

Every other knight was given a notoriously terrifying dragon to vanquish, and by the time the king got to me, I could tell he was holding back a giggle. See, I’m not his favorite, because one time, I pointed out that the table isn’t even all that round. It’s really more of a sphere, if you think about it. Next thing I know, I’m no longer invited to any of the knightly activities. Then, I’m given the job of looking for all the worst relics, like the Odorous Slippers of St. George, who had remarkably smelly feet. The dragon was just the last straw. Sending me off to take down a lovely creature that just wants to sit around all day and set ugly old trees aflame. I have half a mind to ride that dragon all the way back to the kingdom and give him a real target to set his nostrils on, you understand.

The trouble is, even if I wanted to do such a thing, the big guy can’t really fly all that well. He’s got these little wings and a rather large body, what from eating all the local cows. Me personally, I don’t see anything wrong with a hearty appetite. Why, I myself could finish off two or three racks of lamb and a barrel of ale back when I was a lad. Can’t be doing that now though, or I’d be in the latrine for a fortnight. This dragon, though, is most likely not more than one or two hundred years old based on what I know about dragons. You see, the wings don’t come in until they reach three hundred, but the body grows much faster than that. No wonder the poor guy can’t get himself up in the air. If you ask me, he’s depressed about the entire situation, and the cows are just a way for him to eat his feelings.

Now, I can’t understand why the farmers are upset about their livestock. That’s their way of earning a living, and without livestock there’s no living. Still, you can’t blame the dragon for wanting to eat, and what with him being as big as he is, he’s naturally going to eat more than us measly humans. And you can’t blame him for not having any money, because he can’t rightly go out and get a job, now can he? What sort of profession do you want to see him attempt? Tailor? You want to ask a dragon to fix the hem on your skirt? I bloody well don’t think so. He’s not good for much, but sitting around, although don’t tell him I said that, because he’s very sensitive. Why, the first day I showed up, he was looking at a butterfly going around his nose, and he had tears going down his little dragon face, because he was so touched by the beauty and symmetry of that wonderful insect.

Then, the butterfly landed on his nose, and he sneezed, and incinerated the poor thing, but that wasn’t his fault now, was it? If you’re going to land on a dragon’s nose, you have to assume it may sneeze and turn you into a pile of dust. That butterfly took its chances, and look what happened. Me, I stay away from the big guy’s nose. Of course, you can lay on his stomach all you like, and it doesn’t cause a bit of trouble. He may be a bit ticklish, but he won’t hurt you provided that once he gets to laughing, you run behind the nearest rock. Once he gets going, there’s arson everywhere, but soon enough, he calms down, and then you can go right back to tickling him. It’s like a game the two of us play. We mainly spend time out in the quarry now though, because there are more rocks to hide behind, and because the last time we played it near the village, he lit up two churches and the butcher shop. Then again, what village do you know needs two churches? They must be doing a lot of sinning around here if they need that many, and I think the better solution is to simply stop sinning. Now, that’s just my opinion, but I’m entitled to it, you understand?

The king gave me two months to get here, slay the dragon, and get home. Dumb bugger doesn’t know a thing about the geography of his own kingdom. It’s only a day’s journey on horseback. That means, I can bide my time before going back to tell him off. When I do, he’s getting an earful from me, you better believe it. I don’t care if it costs me a trip to the dungeon. A man has to stand on some kind of moral principle, doesn’t he? When I took my knight’s oath, I promised to defend humanity against all threats foreign and familiar. Well, the way I see it, this dragon has been living in England his whole life, so he ain’t foreign. And I’ve now tickled him at least a dozen times, so he’s very familiar to me. All that being said, I don’t see how I can rightly slay him when it wouldn’t be upholding my oath. To me, he’s no different than a little baby sitting in a field, provided a baby could set a tree on fire. Who knows? Maybe there are babies that can. I’ve seen stranger things in this world, you understand?

Once I tell that king off, me and the big guy here are going to go traveling. Until his wings grow in, we’ll have to walk, but the exercise will do him good. I’ll take him around to see the whole world as we know it. Then, when we’re done, we’ll see the world as we don’t know it. You see, I never had a kid of me own, because as knights, we’re not allowed. So this dragon might be the closest I ever come to being something of a father. You can’t go throwing away a chance like that. It’s a beautiful thing when another living creature depends on you. If it weren’t for me, who knows what would happen to this defenseless creature? Why, just the other day, one of those poachers tried to sneak up on the big guy when he was asleep. Those poachers like putting dragon scales in their tea, because they think it makes them immortal. The great irony of that fool trying to live forever is once he tried to cut off one of the big guy’s scales, he scared him awake, and if you think the fire’s bad when he sneezes, you should see how hot it burns when it’s first thing in the morning. The only thing left of that poacher is half a toe and a few gold teeth. Garish fellow he was. I doubt he’ll be missed.

That’ll be the last close call my dragon has for awhile. I’m going to look after him now. Once I head back and give the king what for, it’ll be me and the big guy and nobody else, which is probably for the best anyway. He gets nervous around new people, and when he gets nervous, he gets to sneezing up a storm.

I think I’m about all the friend he can handle, you understand? It ain’t easy making friends when you’re a dragon.