With a last movement of the stone, Sir
Matthew finished sharpening his sword.
He held it for a moment, admiring it in the light, before sliding it
into his sheath. Then he knelt by his
shield and admired the coat of arms he had painted on it himself. He could have had his herald do the
paintings, but he felt he needed to do some things himself.
It was time. He was ready.
“Squire!” he shouted and his
assistant was instantly in the room. “What
news?”
“Well, we’ve received all the
replies to your appeals for a quest.”
“And?”
“And nobody has one.”
“What? Nobody?
I sent messages to every kingdom within a hundred leagues!”
The young squire merely shrugged.
“Tell the stables to saddle my
horse. And help me get my greaves
on. I’m going out.”
* *
* * *
It was late morning when he knelt
in the torch-lit throne room of his neighbor, Lord Snowdaw.
“Rise, good knight,” Snowdaw said
from his purple throne, “And tell us why you honor us with your presence.”
“My lord, I came calling about the
letter I sent you a few months ago.”
The king looked confused, and
stroked his salt and pepper beard.
“About the quest, my lord?”
“Oh! Yes.
Sorry, I can’t help. We don’t
have any quests for you.”
“But sir, at last season’s harvest
festival you told me there was a dragon plaguing your kingdom.”
“What? Oh, the dragon! Yes.
We have a dragon, but he’s no bother.”
“You told me he
ravaged the countryside, burning crops and devouring cattle.”
“Well, yes, he
does that a bit, but we can manage.”
Sir Matthew
stared at the king’s earnest face for a moment, confused.
“But, I’m
looking for a quest… And you… You have a dragon… I just thought… You know.
I could slay it for you as a quest.”
Lord Snowdaw
shook his head.
“No, no. Don’t trouble yourself. Thanks for dropping by, though. Always nice to see the neighbors.”
* * * * *
In the middle of
the afternoon, he reached the keep of Lady Ellech, who called down to him from
the parapet.
“No, sorry, no
quests here, good sir!”
“But, m’lady,
you told me once a hideous witch troubled your lands.”
“No, I would
never say anything like that.”
“I remember it
quite clearly. You said there was a hag
who ensnared men to break their marital vows.”
“No, I never-“
Another woman
appeared on the castle wall. She looked
much like Lady Ellech, but was younger, with tangled hair and bad teeth.
“What did you
say?” she said, practically bellowing at the Lady.
“I didn’t say
anything.”
“You called me a
hag? I’m your sister!”
“Don’t remind
me.”
“Did she tell
you I seduced someone?” the hag said, calling down to Sir Matthew. “It was one kiss. One. It was a party. He was drunk.”
“He’d have to
be,” Lady Ellech said.
Her sister punched
her in the arm.
“Ladies, if I
may…” he called from below, but they ignored him.
“You’re always
driving men away from me!”
“No, that’s your
breath.”
She punched her
sister’s arm again.
“Ladies!” he
shouted, but they continued to fight, ignoring him. After a few minutes, he turned his horse away
from the keep and travelled homeward.
* * * * *
He reached the
edge of his fields as dusk fell. The
serfs working the land were packing in their tools to head home. Several looked up as he halted his horse and
called out to them. After a few moments
of confusion, a short, dirty man came forward.
He climbed down from his saddle to greet the peasant.
“Good evening, Sir
Matthew.”
“Good evening to
you, peasant. What is your name?”
“Grunion, sir.”
“Grunion? Isn’t that a kind of fish?”
“I don’t think
so, sir. My father said he named me that
because I was always underfoot, like a grunion.”
“Er, I think he
meant ‘bunion.’”
“Did he? Well, then I guess my name should be Bunion,
sir. Thank you for correcting me. How may I help?”
“I’m on a quest
for… Well, quests. Is there anything you serfs need done?”
Bunion looked at
the others, confused.
“Like what, sir?”
“I mean, are there
any bandits? Monsters? Any children missing? Anything you might need the help of a knight
to fix?”
Bunion scratched
his head.
“No, I think we’re
good, sir. If you want, there’s an
orphanage down by the river. They can
always use some help.”
“No, no. That’s not a quest. I need someone to assign me a task.”
Bunion stared,
confused.
“See, it’s not a
quest if I just go do volunteer work. If
someone were to ask me to volunteer
somewhere in specific…
Bunion, still
confused, said nothing.
“Someone like
you, perhaps…”
Bunion scratched
his head again. The knight shook his
head , climbed back into the saddle, and rode off.
* * * * *
As he reached
the drawbridge of his castle, the portcullis raised and his squire ran out to
meet him.
“Sir! A quest.
It’s the Dowager!”
“My mother-in-law?”
“She’s on the
enchanted mirror. She needs your help.”
He practically
flew up the stairs to where his children clustered around the Kindle, talking
to their grandmother.
“Ah, there you
are, Sir Matthew. I was hoping you’d
help me with these paintings I bought in Nice.
I was showing them to your children, but I have trouble pronouncing the
painters’ names. You took French, right?”
He nodded, and
she held up a picture.
“Degas,” he
said. She held up another. “Gaugin.
Renoir.”
And so he
continued until she ran out of paintings.
“Thank you,” she
said. “And now you’ve completed a quest.”
“Er, well I
suppose. For it to be a real quest, you’re
supposed to give me a reward of some kind.”
She scoffed.
“I already gave
you the hand of my youngest daughter in marriage. What more do you want?”
The magic mirror
went black. With a sad sigh, he went to
bed.
