Carrington

The small thorpe contained one building more than twenty, nestled against the densely wooded area not far from the rugged and inhospitable Crag Mor hills, where rumor held the dragon made its den.

Lights glowed warmly though the windows as Sir George and Daffyd cantered into the small village.

“No palisade,” Sir George commented, noting the lack of a defensive perimeter.

Daffyd frowned, “We’re far enough inland, this place should be of no interest to raiders. Large enough too to discourage bandits,” he surmised.

The knight snorted, “No excuse not to have a barrier keeping monsters out,” he stated, pointing at a large building, painted sign above the door reading ‘The Dancing Unicorn Inn’.

Rather than argue, Daffyd dismounted and took the reins from Sir George, helping the heavy knight down from his horse before tethering the reins to the railing outside.

Striding confidently forward and into the establishment, Sir George raised his hands to shoulder height, “You may all forthwith relax, I, Sir George, have come to slay the dragon,” he boldly said with a grandiose flourish.

Besides the attractive young woman behind the counter, the other two patrons glanced up and then back into their cups.

“Forgive them brave sir knight,” said the woman, bowing slightly, “But Sir Ellard and Sir Roderick have both made similar claims in recent times and naught has been seen of them in a fortnight passed,” she explained.

Sir George nodded, frowning, “Both able knights aye, but not dragon slayers,” he opined.

Daffyd appeared inside the inn, coming to stand beside the knight. Grinning at the girl, who was maybe a year or two his senior, he bobbed his head and said, “We’ve two horses and an ass we’ll need to shelter for the night outside.”

She nodded, dark braided ponytail bouncing, “Two rooms or will ye share?” she asked.

Sir George held up the index finger of his right hand, “One room, my boy will remain with the animals in the barn,” he said.

“Right,” she said, “I’ll send my brother out to stable your horses,” she said.

“What have you for repast?” sir George inquired, looking toward the fire where an inky black cauldron hung suspended above the glowing coals.

“Food? We’ve a hare stew if that’s what you’re asking,” she replied, following his line of sight.

Sir George nodded, “That will be fine, we’ll have two bowls of that,” he expressed.

Dispatching a boy a couple of years younger than her, the young woman got the knight and the squire set up at a long table and provided them with a steaming bowl of stew from the cauldron, Sir George taking a tankard of ale to wash down the meal, while Daffyd was content with water.

Unleashing a noisome belch, Sir George rubbed his rounded stomach and smiled. Raising his free hand, he signaled the young woman over, taking another tankard, and another and another.

After half a dozen drinks, he summoned her back. “You are fair of face, how you called girl?” he queried, words slurred.

“Jenny, sir,” she replied politely.

He nodded, “I knew a Jenny once, pretty like you save for her lazy eye. I realize you are probably overawed by a knight of my caliber in your small little town, but I have decided I shall permit you the honor of sharing my bed this night,” cheeks colored by the consumption of alcohol, he said with big lopsided smile.

She half smiled, flicking a glance at Daffyd then back to the knight, “You do me honor good sir knight, but I am unworthy of such,” she paused, “Generous invitation.”

“Nonsense,” he blurted, slamming an open hand down on the table, making the empty wooden stew bowls jump a few inches into the air.

Daffyd shook his head at the young woman, slight frown pulling down at the corners of his mouth. “He’s in his cups, you’ve no need for alarm,” he said.

Sir George hefted his tankard and drank noisily, ale spilling out the sides and down his face onto his jerkin.

“Another,” he said, words almost incomprehensible, setting his now empty drinking vessel back on the wooden table.

Jenny looked at Daffyd. The boy shook his head and motioned enough with his hand.

Sir George turned to the boy, “Is she going to bring another?” he asked.

“No sir, she said the hour is late and you’ve need of a good night’s rest before setting after the dragon,” he said.

The knight nodded, head wobbling, “Aye, she’s a good lass and right she is, I’m to bed,” he stammered, trying to push himself to standing.

“Here let me help you,” offered Daffyd, getting up and sliding an arm under the knight’s shoulders to help him up.

Teetering, Sir George bowed awkwardly to the young woman, “Milady,” he slurred.

“Sir Knight,” she replied politely.

“You may need to assist me to my room lad,” Sir George said, shifting his weight onto the boy. Daffyd nodded and help get the knight to bed, the latter snoring before the lad had even gotten the inebriated knight properly prepared.

Returning to the taproom, he smiled at Jenny, “My apologies for Sir George, our journey has been long and with little to excite,” he offered.

She grinned and shook her head, “Is he really here for the dragon?” she asked.

Daffyd nodded and smiled, “He is Sir George, the Sir George,” he replied.

“Truly?” she asked, making a sour face.

“I speak true, think what you might of him now, come the morrow, he will be ready to conquer the dragon preying on this hamlet,” he said.

She chuckled. “And what of you? Are you here to help him?” playing with a loose strand of hair dangling down the side of her comely face.

Daffyd laughed, “I am no knight. I will help get him armored and ready for battle come the morn, such is my task,” he explained.

“You should take care going after the beast, tis said to be of such size to eat a grown man in but one gulp,” she cautioned, brows raised.

“Aye, I heard such, but Sir George is fearless and unafraid of such talk,” he replied.

Jenny nodded. “However shall I console myself that the opportunity to feel him between my thighs slipped away?” she said, tilting her head back and touching her forehead with the back of her hand in mock despair.

Daffyd chuckled and shook his head.

“What of you? I didn’t get your name,” she said with a smile.

“Daffyd,” he said.

“Odd name,” she said.

He shrugged, “Tis the only one I’ve got, better or worse,” he answered.

She laughed, “True enough,” she said, nodding.

Nodding in return, Daffyd said, “I think I shall go to the stable for the night.”

“There’s space by the fire if you would prefer to remain inside,” she offered, pointing to an area near the large stone fireplace.

He smiled and shook his head. “My thanks Jenny, but good eve,” he said, exiting the inn and heading into the stable.