Dragons and Romans
Page 26
“She hurried home to organize her friends and servants into a search committee that would find out who the young man was and what would be the proper way to recognize and reward his valiant efforts in the market place. Meanwhile the young man, who by the way, was named Harry,” a chorus of hoots and snickers interrupted the old man. He looked around and saw the children trying not to laugh, “And just what is so funny?”
“His name!” the clamorous boy at the back of the group smirked, his lip beginning to curl. “His name is hairy, like he had hair growing all over him.”
“Oh, my friend...” the old man said in a very low tone that sounded almost like a growl, “he was not a ridiculous looking figure... Not at all ... And his name …his name means leader…leader of an army. It was a very strong name and an honor to wear it. Names mean things. His only problem was not that he had an overabundance of hair, but that he was very shy and extremely uncomfortable when speaking to people he did not know. So, quite naturally, at least for the time he lived, people thought he was cowardly and did not even think to consider he had just brought down a full-grown pig. They did not even consider it. They just laughed at him because he had the terrible habit of turning red when he talked to someone or started to stutter and stammer and sometimes would be so overcome with embarrassment he would just drop everything he was doing and run away and hide. Now the princess was determined to find him and reward him. And if the truth be known…” the old man bent over and whispered, “… I think she liked him.”
The little girls on the front row giggled and blushed as he whispered that. He quickly continued, “Now where was I … yes, yes... Meanwhile Harry was troubled.”
“Excuse me… excuse me…” the little girl with the gap-tooth smile interrupted.
“Yes?” the old man answered.
“Did the prince have a last name? Or did people just call him Harry?”
“Why of course he had a last name... and a first and one in between... Now where was I yes, yes... Harry was troubled.”
“Excuse me… excuse me,” the snaggle-tooth little naglet continued, “What was it?”
“What was what?” the old man asked innocently, teasing the young lady.
“You know what. What was his last name?!” she fumed exasperated.
“Oh … well, to be honest, I forgot.”
“What!” she cried. “You don’t remember his last name?”
“No, I don’t,” the old man lied crossing his fingers behind his back.
“Well ...well …” she puffed, hands on her little hips, and head cocked to one side. “You have to …you have to give him one!” And with that she sat down satisfied that the matter was as simple as that and had been cleared up.
“No, I don’t,” the old man responded calmly.
“Yes, you do,” she answered firmly. “He has to have a last name.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because he has to. Everyone has a last name. It’s part of their family.”
“Well, in that case, since I don’t know what it was, you do it.”
“I can’t do it! You’re the one making up the story! You have to do it!”
“What makes you think I am making up this story?”
“Well, aren’t you?” she asked confused.
“No, I am not. It is true. It really happened, and that is why I can’t just make up a last name for Harry.”
“Humph,” she said, her eyes frowning and eyebrows crowning the top of her forehead. “I guess I will give him a last name.”
“Really?” the old man bit his lip to keep from laughing but was unable to keep the twinkle from his eyes. “And what are you going to call him?”
“I am going to call him... Harry the Brave.”
“Ok now that we have that settled, may I continue?”
“Yes carry on.”
The old man smirked and hid his laugh behind a cough, but not before the little nagahina had cocked a fierce eyebrow in his direction. He hurriedly continued, “Now where was I? Oh yes, Harry was troubled. He was embarrassed and still blushing over the incident in the market, but more than that, he felt as though he had besmirched the honor of the princess by grabbing her and roughly handling her even though he did not mean to be rude or crude. He had brought her into his embarrassment and was thoroughly ashamed.”
“Excuse me… excuse me,” the little snaggle-tooth girl started to say.
The old man tried to continue and shushed her, but she was persistent. He continued with the story. “So,” he started, “Harry determined in his heart to find a way to honor the princess.”
“Excuse me… excuse me!” the nagahina continued impatiently.
“He thought and thought and then decided…” the old man tried to say.
“Hey! I have a question!” she shouted.
“So?” The old man answered. Then looking around the class he asked, “Is there anyone else with a question?” The whole class was getting disturbed with the little girl’s interruptions and were not happy with her.
“Sorry,” he looked at her and said, “you are quite out of your quota of questions, and since no one else is asking, I shall continue.” He tried to look sternly at the little girl but couldn’t do it. Her lips were quivering and a little tear trickled down her cheek.
He sighed and said, “Okay... Okay... don’t cry. What is it you want to know?”
As quick as lightning her countenance changed to a gap-tooth radiance, and the old man knew he had been played.
“All I wanted to know was what does ‘besmirched’ mean?”
The old man drew in a long breath and let it out very slowly, trying not to surrender to her grin and craftily answered, “It means sullied,” and then looked at her and laughed. She cocked another eyebrow, but he ignored it and went on.
“The young man had not wanted to dishonor the princess by exposing her to his embarrassing situation. It never occurred to him that she might feel honored and even wish to reward him for his bravery. It never entered his mind that she might have found him attractive. He only thought that she must have been as embarrassed as he was. So, Harry was thinking of ways to honor her, and she was thinking of ways to reward him, and that is when tragedy struck.
“The land that the princess lived in was a beautiful land surrounded by mountains that acted as natural barriers to the kingdom’s enemies. There were narrow passes that led to other lands, but they were easily guarded until the land became so prosperous and the people so wealthy that no one thought anything bad could happen. So eventually the narrow passes were left unguarded, and the land was left open to anyone or anything that wanted to attack it, and that is where the dragon entered. Where it came from, or how it came to be, no one knows. The dragon’s name was Romlott Hus. It was a vile creature choosing to weaken its prey before devouring them. It would drive the people it had chosen for destruction mad using their own weaknesses against them, and then finally having bound them into terrible habits, would swoop down on them and carry them off eating them like fattened cows. The people of the kingdom believed the stories about the evil serpent were lies. It didn’t really destroy people and devour their souls. So, the dragon ate and ate and grew and grew until one day about the same time as Harry the Brave had fought the pig, it came for the princess.”
The room had grown quiet as the dragon was described, and the look on the children’s faces was solemn. Then, as the old man finished the last sentence, the peevish youngster with the tight, mean smile said, “This is a silly story, and I am not going to listen to it anymore.”
“You don’t have to be afraid,” the little girl on the front row answered. “It’s just a story.”
“Is it?” the old man asked under his breath.
“Yes of course it is,” answered the little girl. “It’s just a story.”
“Then what about it troubles some of you?” the old man continued. “If I were to say oranges and sailboats, no one would be alarmed, but when I say dragons, and people lying t
o themselves, and being fattened for destruction, it bothers you.” The little girl sat down and even the peevish young boy looked thoughtful, got quiet, and continued to listen.
“Hold on a minute,” the thoughtful, snaggle-tooth little girl said. “Why did the dragon choose the princess?”
“Oh, that is simple my dear, the dragon wanted to destroy the country, and he knew the best way to destroy a people was to steal their heart. The princess was greatly loved by her people, and even though she could never see her beauty, everyone else did. When she would laugh, people would think the sun was shining even on a dreary, cold day. Wherever she went, she could say just the right word to just the right person and give them strength to carry on. She really was the heart of their country, and she didn’t even know it.”
“Oh,” the little snaggle-tooth said quietly and slipped back into her chair.
“Now as I was saying, the dragon stole the princess, flew back to his mountain cave, and chained her to a pile of rocks. She cried her heart out because she feared no one would ever find her, and if they did, she would probably be dead before they could rescue her. And then something even worse happened.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
William David Ellis is a storyteller. Whether it’s weaving an old narrative into an entertaining and illuminating yarn or fashioning something brand new from wisps of legend, he can tell a story. Both oral communication and the written page bend to the will of this wordsmith. Other than that, he is the son of an English teacher, the husband of an English teacher, and the father of an English teacher. In spite of them, he occasionally punctuates and is prone to a lapse of consciousness where the Muse of inspiration grants him the heart of a skillful writer. His contributions to publication include columns in small and large newspapers across Texas, short stories, and novels, one which has been exhibited here, and the rest which are either shipwrecked on the shores of imagination or being gestated as we speak. For more on William David Ellis go to his website: williamdavidellisauthor.wordpress.com