A New Quest

Without a doubt, the pebbly stream between the bluff and the stand of pear trees had the best water. Over the centuries, the insistent trickle had washed away the soil from the trees' roots, leaving a perfect filter for debris and little fish. And I didn’t like fish. They got stuck in my throat.

Unfortunately, the exposed roots needed maintenance, and a minnow slipped through in order to commit suicide in my gullet that morning. I wheezed. There I was, up to my ankles in mud, hacking and coughing to clear my throat while a yolk-yellow sun broke over the horizon. Picturesque, for sure.

The fish thrashed its sharp little tail, and I whipped my long neck in response. It had a good four or five feet to go before it got to my belly, so it really took a lot of effort to get this fish moving.

I tried not to make too much noise, as a general rule, because my voice has a way of attracting unwanted attention. But of course, that’s what happened. With the scaly little devil desperately wiggling in my throat, I couldn't help but bark and gasp, ahem-ing so loud the birds took flight.

I hadn’t even had breakfast yet -- not on purpose, anyway -- and I was already in trouble.

By the time the fish gave up and landed in my belly with a plop, I heard pounding hooves juddering the ground. It figured. My throat still hurt a bit, and I let out another choking yelp. There was no way they didn't hear me that time. Sure enough, I heard the hooves pick up the pace.

It was going to be one of those days.

When the horses finally got close enough to spy me between the pear trees, I reared up on my feline hind legs and spread my scaly hood. I bugged out my eyes, waggled my forked tongue, and thrashed my tail menacingly. As always, the horses screamed and reared up, dropping some of their armored knights with a clang. The rest of the knights drew their swords but did not approach.

The first knight, the one wearing a garish white and golden cape with ridiculous gems tucked into the fur, managed to cling to his horse. Too bad; I wanted to see mud on that priggish costume. He squared his underbite.

“O Honorable Questing Beast!” shouted the inbred knight. “I beseech thee! What is my quest?”

Well, this was off-script. I was usually the end goal of some quest, not a distributor. Not that I particularly minded my new role -- it was sure to be easier than vanishing in a mist at the last moment -- but I’ll admit I was caught off guard. I glared and snapped my jaws a few times while I stalled.

“Brave Knight! To approach the Questing Beast is evidence of a spirit of the highest purity!” I lied. Might as well butter him up. Anyone who had studied history knew who I was, but if this guy wasn’t smart enough to try to kill me, I could pretend not to know he was trash. “I shall assign thee thy noble quest, but first I require payment.”

“Name it, Beast!” The knight instructed his snorting, wild-eyed horse to bow. The other knights’ horses, terrified as they were, followed suit. Frankly, I was impressed. Clever beasts, but too dumb to be embarrassed. Ah well.

“Cleanse this stream of all fish and creatures aquatic.”

“All of them, Beast?”

“All of them. Leave no fish alive. This is The Spring of the Questing Beast,” I just decided, “and it must run clear. I cannot deliver thy quest without pristine water to quench my monstrous thirst.” That and I was still a little peeved about the fish ruining my morning.

“We shall do thy bidding, Questing Beast, and return here with the remains of all fish from The Spring.”

“Oh, no, that shan't be necessary. Thou mayst keep the fish. It is, ah, it is my gift to thy kingdom.” What was I going to do with a thousand dead fish? No thanks. I cleared my itching throat.

The snooty-looking knight must've had a grateful streak because he and his knights all bowed deeply with watery eyes. Wow, their kingdom must have been really poor if they were that happy about a few measly minnows. “Our sincerest gratitude, Beast, for thou art as generous as thou art hideous.”

“Go forth, Knights, and remove the fish from my stream. Return to me when the water is pure, and I shall deliver thy quest,” I roared. I blew some smoke from my slitted nostrils for effect.

The horses wasted no time speeding their riders out of my glen, and I was left to come up with a good quest. I hoped the knights had some trouble getting the fish out, because I needed time to think of something clever. If they weren’t on their usual mission to kill me, what were knights supposed to do in the woods? Clean up the stream, apparently. I plucked a pear from the tree and chewed while I pondered the new definition of the Questing Beast. The Beast Who Distributes Quests. Yeah. I liked the sound of that. This just might work.

What other chores could I dole out to these dolts?