In Which I Travel Home Again
Lord Rupert and my friends were in a fine mood when I came down the next morning. Hero was entranced by the dragon’s collection of books. Lord Rupert was thoroughly enjoying one of Tate’s stories, and Tate seemed thrilled with his rapt audience.
Hero looked up and saw me as I came into the library. She closed her book and walked back to where I stood just inside the doorway.
“What did you decide to do?” she whispered.
“I can’t hurt him.”
Hero nodded. She glanced over at Lord Rupert and then back at me. “Have you noticed that you lost your stutter?”
I stared at her as I thought back over my words of the past day. She was right. My stutter was gone; but even that didn’t make me feel any better.
Hopkins called us to breakfast, and we all walked back across the hall to the dining room. Distracted, I didn’t notice Lord Rupert’s tail inadvertently swinging my way until it had splattered me against a wall. I had to peel myself off the stone before I could go in and find my chair. The table was heaped with griddle cakes and tureens of maple syrup. The pile of food in front of Lord Rupert was the size of a large boulder.
When the meal had ended, a massive tear came into one of the dragon’s dark eyes. “I suppose you will be going,” he said, looking slightly pained.
Tate nodded. “Our families will be worrying about us.”
Lord Rupert nodded his great head. “I do understand; but I dare hope that you might come to visit me again. You could stay as long as you wished.”
Hero patted one massive claw. “We’ll come back.”
“Perhaps for the summer solstice,” Lord Rupert said with a hopeful expression.
Tate nodded.
“Maybe so,” was the best I could promise.
Lord Rupert walked us out as far as the garden courtyard. Hopkins brought out the horses, groomed and saddled. Our saddlebags were once again full and smelled of fresh provisions and warm chocolate chip cookies.
“Safe travels,” Lord Rupert called to us and then pulled out an enormous handkerchief to dab at his eyes.
“Thank you for everything,” Tate called back. And we left Castle Flamegon.
Albert talked for the majority of the trip down the mountain. He told us all about his stay and the quality of the oats. We were nearly at the base before he seemed to remember that we had gone there so that I could kill something.
“That dragon seemed very much alive when we left,” Albert said.
I didn’t comment.
“He wasn’t anything like the dragons from the stories,” Hero told my horse. “It would have been dishonorable to kill him.”
She said that as if I had any honor to consider.
Tate glanced from Hero to me. “Maybe you’ll have better luck next year.”
“I’ll be too old next year,” I mumbled.
Hero whispered something to Tate, but their pity couldn’t change anything. Unless I wanted to become a bandit or the world’s worst minstrel, I was doomed to a life of being pegged with rotting fruit.
When we came out of the mountains of Rona, we reached a fork in the road. Hero pointed to the westward branch. “This road will take you straight home.”
I didn’t really want to go home, but I couldn’t think of a good reason why I should take the longer route, so we said goodbye. They were my first real friends. It was hard to see them go.
Albert and I traveled on alone. The same trip that had seemed to take months of travel on the way to Rona passed by in just over a week by this more direct route. And the day soon came when we reached the village of Gretten. I paused outside Mildred’s door. She was the first person who had taken my quest seriously, and now I had to tell her that I had failed. I stood there, staring at the wooden door, unable to bring myself to knock. Finally, I turned and went back to climb into my saddle.
“We aren’t going to visit Mildred?” Albert asked as I turned him away from the cottage.
“No.”
Albert sighed. “I wanted to tell her all about our adventures. She loves my stories.”
I didn’t comment.
I was in no hurry to get home, and what had taken me a day on foot at the beginning of my journey took me nearly as long on horseback. But eventually, Albert and I reached the village of Finnagen, a little after sundown.
The streets were quiet but not yet fully dark. Without scores of mockers yelling insults at me, I looked around, maybe for the first time, and saw that Lord Rupert was right. Finnagen really was a nice little village. And in a strange way, I was glad to be home. At least, I figured I would be glad to be home until my first run-in with William.
I led Albert through the sea of pigpens, ignoring his complaints about the smell, and got him settled in the barn before walking up to the house. Again, I paused in front of a door. But this door flew open. My mother stared at me for two breaths and then began to cry. Wrapping her arms around me, she pulled me into the house. Then everyone started talking at once. My brothers were asking where I had been and telling me how far they had gone looking for me. My mother cried into my neck, telling me how worried she had been. My father said that he was going to tan my hide. I just stood there, not having any idea what to do.
It had never occurred to me that they would worry about me or even miss me while I was gone. They had forgotten me so many times that I thought they wouldn’t even notice. But from what I could make out through the tangle of voices, they had really worried.
Maude came in with the food, set down the dishes, and came over to wrap her arms around me. “’Tis good to have you home,” she said into my hair.
Then we ate, my mother urging food into me until I thought I might burst. My brothers were in awe of Guardian and wanted to know how I had come by a legendary blade. And after supper, they insisted on meeting Albert, who told them all about our adventures. His tale was only loosely connected to fact, but my family enjoyed hearing it almost as much as Albert enjoyed telling it.
The next day, I woke up sore and happy, until my brother George told me that we had to leave for the May Day festival.
All the way to King’s City, I hoped that the nominations would be cancelled for some reason. But of course, they weren’t. And I had to stand in the crowd and watch as boy after boy was presented, each with a list of noble deeds. William of Finnagen was the first. He shot me a nasty grin as he climbed the steps onto the stage and took his place in front of the crowd.
The Lord of Finnagen had always brought in the best tutors for his nephew. So I had assumed that William would be staying at home to study to be a knight. He didn’t need a free education. But perhaps he liked the idea of training with the king’s own sons.
“Wasn’t this knight school why you set out on your quest in the first place?” Albert asked me.
I grumbled something.
“Why doesn’t someone nominate you?” he said.
“Because you can’t be nominated by your own family,” I said. “And at the moment, they are the only people who think I’m worthy.”
“I think you’re worthy,” Albert said.
“You’re a horse.”
“I don’t see why that should matter.”
“And you’re biased. You just want to get to be a knight’s steed.”
“True,” he said.
The king granted twenty-seven boys the opportunity to take the entrance exam for knight school before he said, “Are there any further nominations?”
The people crowded into the square looked around at each other, but not a single person raised a hand.
“Very well,” the king said. He took a deep breath in preparation for his annual commissioning speech, and then paused. A dark shape was moving overhead.
The king looked up, and the crowd followed his eyes. There were more than a few screams as the people realized what was coming toward them. I saw the dragon’s great shape, and for an instant, I thought that this could be my chance. If I killed this beast in front of the crowd, surely three people would be willing to nominate me. I placed a hand on Guardian’s hilt, ready to take one last chance at greatness, and then I dropped my hand again.
It was a very familiar dragon who landed on the platform with a thud and folded his great wings. The great dragon turned his large head, taking in the crowd through his spectacles, before turning to the king with a bow.
“Your Majesty,” he said in his deep voice. “I am Lord Rupert of Flamegon, who once served your noble grandfather. I would like to nominate one more candidate for your fine school.”
It has been my experience that most people are more than happy to go along with whatever a dragon says. The king was no exception. He nodded, looking rather pale, as he stared at Lord Rupert’s teeth.
“I would like to nominate Hobart of Finnagen, who showed his worthiness by taking the time to visit a lonely old creature.”
I stared at Lord Rupert, not really certain what to say. Before I could collect my words, Tate and Hero came bursting onto the platform. They were both breathless and excited. Behind them came a great collection of people.
Tate spoke in a loud, clear voice. “On two separate occasions, Hobart of Finnagen saved my life, at risk of his own.”
“He built us a bridge that we sorely needed,” Dan the Slight added.
“He gave me the courage to overcome my fear of the sea,” the fisherman said.
And then a dozen individuals, bedecked in turnip jewelry, stepped forward. “He saved our village from starvation by giving us the last food he had,” one of their number called out.
Hero was watching me when she said, “He offered me friendship when I greatly needed it.”
The king looked from Hero to the crowd. “Where is young Hobart of Finnagen?” he asked.
“Here,” my brother Robert called out, pointing at me.
“Come forward, young man,” the king said.
The crowd opened a path for me, and I walked shakily forward. My face felt as if I had been leaning into a fire. I couldn’t believe this was happening. But then my feet were carrying me up the steps and onto the platform. I took a knee, bowing my head before my king. When I looked up, he was gazing out at the crowd.
“We often hear about fantastic feats performed by knights,” he said. “But may we never forget that a knight is first and foremost a servant sworn by the oath of chivalry to care for and protect those in need.” The king looked down at me. His expression was serious, but his eyes seemed pleased. “I therefore deem that Hobart of Finnagen is more than worthy to take the entrance examination.”
I knelt there in shock as the people began to cheer. My nominators chanted my name, and the crowd soon joined them. I did finally find my voice long enough to thank the king, a moment before Tate and Hero threw themselves at me. I hugged them both but had to settle for wrapping my arms around Lord Rupert’s claw.
The next day, I took the entrance exam. I never have been lucky, but it turns out that effort is even more useful. I was determined, and my experiences of the past few weeks helped immensely. I could climb and balance, ride a horse, and run as well as any of the others. And thanks to Hero’s instruction, I could even hold my own with a sword. I passed the test.
And so, Tate set out for Fair Oaks with yet another story to tell. Hero went to live with Lord Rupert, where they studied and read together in happy companionship. My family went home again. And I entered the King’s School for the Education of Future Knights.
You might wonder what happened there. But that is another story altogether.
THE END