In Which I Receive Four Magical Gifts
By sundown, I was in the village of Gretten. When I reached the cottage that a townsman had pointed out as belonging to Mildred the Wise, I knocked and was invited inside. I stepped through the low doorway and dropped to one knee in front of the small woman sitting by the fire. (It never hurts to be polite to someone who could probably turn you into a toad.)
“W-wisest Mildred,” I said in my most solemn voice, “I s-seek your c-counsel to find a dragon, that I may s-slay the vile beast and become w-worthy of entering the K-King’s S-School for the E-Education of Future Knights.”
I had spent most of the day practicing that speech. “Do you always have a stutter, or only when you’re trying to speak to wise women?” Mildred asked. “A-always.”
Mildred gave me a look that seemed to see past my skin. “What is your name, young would-be knight?”
“H-Hobart Septavious of F-Finnagen.”
“That is a doozy,” Mildred said, “but not the worst I’ve ever heard.”
“W-what was the w-worst?”
“Peevish Petterbottom,” she said immediately.
That was admittedly worse, but since poor Peevish didn’t live in Finnagen, it didn’t do me much good.
“W-will you h-help me?” I really didn’t know who else to ask if she said no.
Mildred tilted her head, watching me. “Perhaps,” she said. “You know that to be eligible to take the examination for the King’s School for the Education of Future Knights, you must be nominated by three individuals?”
“Y-yes.”
“And how many nominations do you have?” Mildred said.
“N-none.” “Hmm,” she said.
“I-I’ve t-tried,” I told her.
Mildred gave me an assessing look and then said,
“Go bring me some firewood.”
I had been expecting a task, but something much more complicated than collecting wood. “Wh-where is it?” I asked.
Her expression turned sharp.
“I’ll f-find it,” I said and started out through the front door.
I found the neat little woodpile on the back side of the cottage, collected an armload of logs, and went back inside. Mildred promptly set me to work building a fire, peeling carrots, and then setting the table. Soon we sat down to supper.
Mildred turned out to be a fine cook, and I enjoyed the food, if not the conversation. From a long string of questions, she learned almost everything I wanted to keep to myself. That I was the seventh son of a pig farmer. That I had been stuttering since I was five. And that I was tormented by William, the nephew of our local lord.
“So you think that becoming a knight will solve all of your problems?” Mildred said.
“P-people don’t t-taunt men with s-swords,” I told her. “It helps if the men actually know how to use the swords,” Mildred said.
“W-which is why I want to go to s-school.”
“Not to serve the king and protect his people?” Mildred said.
“Th-that too.”
Mildred raised an eyebrow at me but didn’t comment.
When our bowls were empty, Mildred folded her small hands. “Are you set on a dragon?”
“Y-yes,” I told her. “I’ve t-tried everything else.” “Dragons are highly unpredictable.”
“I kn-know.”
“And have large appetites,” Mildred said, watching me with a critical eye.
I nodded. It was easier.
“Well, there is only one dragon left in this part of the world. He lives at Castle Flamegon in southern Rona. But there is no use in leaving for Rona until the morning. You can stay here tonight.”
“Th-thank you.” I was glad to spend at least one more night under a roof. I didn’t really know where I would sleep after that. Along the road, I guessed.
When the dishes had been cleared, I wrapped myself up in my cloak, lay down by the fire, and went to sleep.
That night, I dreamt that I was standing in a massive hall with a sword gripped in my right hand. The ceiling was distant, the floor covered in flattened gold coins. Lit torches sat in brackets along the walls. On the far side of the room was an enormous heap of treasure: gold and jewels, weapons, and crowns. And lying on top of the mound was a dragon. The beast was larger than I had thought possible. His green scales shimmered in the torchlight. His wings were folded, his eyes shut. Even with his mouth closed, I could see his teeth—white and sharp and as long as my forearm.
Why had I decided to try and kill this monster? I couldn’t remember exactly. But then figures appeared along the edges of the room. I knew their faces even before William started the chant, “Ho-brat, bull hat!”
My chin came up and my hand tightened around the sword’s hilt as the first tomato left William’s hand. I started down the hall, trying to ignore my uninvited audience. Which wasn’t easy, between the chanting and the flying fruit.
I used my left hand to wipe the mess out of my eyes and kept walking. But then the laughter reached new heights. I looked down to see that my clothes were gone, along with my sword. I stood completely naked, covered in tomato, holding nothing but a stick. The laughter echoed through the hall, building into a deafening noise.
Until the dragon opened his eyes.
I froze. The crowd drew back, suddenly silent as the dragon stared at me with silver eyes. Then the beast began to climb down from his pile of treasure.
“You come to best me with a stick?” The creature’s voice was low and rough like thunder.
“I h-had a s-sword,” I said.
“You seem to have misplaced it,” the dragon said. And then he ate me.
I woke up covered in what I thought was dragon drool. It took me a minute to realize that it was sweat, and then another minute to remember where I was. Mildred the Wise slept nearby; her hands tucked beneath her head. She chuckled in her sleep, rolled over, and began to snore. I did my best to go back to sleep, but my thoughts kept chasing after my dream. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be eaten.
The next morning, Mildred and I broke our fast on porridge, and then I got ready to start out on my journey. Before I left, Mildred said that she would like to present me with gifts. I felt a surge of relief. Not only was this wise woman going to give me a much-needed sword, but it might even be a legendary blade. Even I would have a chance of slaying a dragon if I had a legendary blade.
“First, take this,” Mildred said, and with great ceremony, handed me a large book. I tried to cover my disappointment, but apparently failed. Because she snapped, “What’s wrong with it?”
“N-Nothing,” I said. “I was just h-hoping for a s-sword.”
“A sword, heavens!” Mildred said. “If you had a sword, you would probably poke out your eye. No, this book will be much more useful. It’s an almanac. It’s not perfect at predicting the weather, but it’s useful nonetheless.”
I opened the book and flipped through the pages until I found the current date. “It s-says that it w-will be s-sunny today,” I said, and then looked from the window, which showed a steady drizzle, back to Mildred.
“I told you it wasn’t perfect,” she said. “Your second gift is this magical satchel. No matter how many times you empty it, it will always fill again.”
Now this sounded more promising. “Wh-what does it h-hold?”
“Turnips,” Mildred said, clearly pleased.
“T-turnips?” What was I supposed to do with an endless supply of turnips?
“They can be used in all sorts of delicious dishes,” Mildred said. “Fried turnips, sautéed turnips, baked turnips, turnip soup, turnip stew, turnip kabobs. . .”
“I g-get the idea,” I told her, but then I had to ask, “Wh-what’s the difference between turnip s-soup and turnip st-stew?”
“Potatoes. Now, your third gift is this spool of unbreakable thread. The only thing that can cut it is a diamond.”
“D-do you have a d-diamond?” I asked.
“No, I don’t like the look of them,” Mildred said.
I was beginning to think that stopping at Mildred’s had been a complete waste of time.
“I have one last gift to aid you on your journey,” Mildred said with great ceremony.
“I-I thought it was t-traditional to give a h-hero three g-gifts,” I said.
Mildred shrugged. “I’m a nonconformist, and you are no hero. Not yet anyway. You have quite a few things to learn first.”
“L-like what?” I asked, hoping for any clues this riddle of a wise woman might give me about how to slay a dragon.
“You will learn them when the time comes,” Mildred said. “But first, follow me.”
I was not interested in hauling any more useless stuff, but Mildred gave me a look, and I followed. We walked through the light rain to a small building behind the cottage. Inside stood a fine white horse. My spirits immediately rose. I no longer cared that Mildred had given me an almanac that didn’t predict the weather and an endless supply of turnips. This noble creature would make up for it all.
But then I had a terrible thought. What if she planned to give me a tired old donkey instead? I looked around, but the horse was the only creature in sight.
“Hobart, I would like to introduce you to Albert. Albert, this is your new master, Hobart. You will be accompanying him on his quest.”
“A quest, how exciting.”
I looked up at the horse, confused.
“I do hope that you are planning to wait until after the rain stops, though. I hate getting my hooves wet.” The horse looked at me with a worried expression. “Goodness knows we wouldn’t want me to catch cold.”
“Don’t be such a baby, Albert,” Mildred said to the horse. “A little damp won’t hurt you.”
I just stared at the two of them as I realized that this strange little sage was offering to give me a talking horse. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
By the end of the day, I was sure. It was a bad thing.