Knights vs. Dinosaurs

by Matt Phelan

  “Agreed,” said Bors. “And the sooner the better. Squire! I’m in need of a bandage for my arm.”

  Mel looked stricken.

  “I did not bring our supplies, Sir Bors. Only the weapons.”

  “No matter. Tear me a bandage from your tunic. In addition to this land looking entirely different, we seem to be experiencing the summer months. You will be fine.”

  “Perhaps one of these fronds or leaves would do better. They are quite sizable, my lord.”

  “I don’t want a leaf!”

  “I could find some herbs to go with it. A nice salve or natural ointment.”

  “I haven’t got all day if you haven’t noticed, boy! Your shirt! Bandage! Now!”

  “No, my lord.”

  The knights all turned to stare at the squire.

  “Did you say no?” Bors’s complexion went from dark to torrential.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I cannot.”

  Mel clutched his tunic as Bors straightened to his full, intimidating height.

  “I’m . . . I’m a girl, Sir Bors.”

  It had been a strange day. All four knights would have admitted that. And yet this new revelation was in its way even more startling than the events of the last several minutes.

  “You’re a what now?” growled Bors.

  “A female. A girl. A squire still! But a girl squire.”

  Bors strode over to Mel. She quivered but held her ground.

  Bors looked at her for a long moment.

  He opened his mouth to speak.

  He closed it again.

  Then Bors turned and walked over to a rock to sit down.

  “That’s just wonderful. England is gone. We are facing a monster of epic strength. There’s a mysterious tyrant king. And now my squire is a girl. Great. Fantastic. Anyone else here a girl?”

  The question was meant to be rhetorical.

  But the Black Knight raised a hand.

  Chapter Four

  More Terrible Lizards

  The Black Knight stood without a helmet for the first time in anyone’s memory. And it was true. The Black Knight was indeed a woman.

  The others remained as silent and still as stone. No one so much as blinked.

  The Black Knight spoke in a calm, measured tone. “My name is Magdalena. I am the daughter of Robert the Blacksmith. I have wielded a smith’s hammer since the age of two. I’ve swung a sword since age four. I have kept my identity a secret not out of fear or shame. I simply did not wish to deal with the stupidity of other knights.”

  She drew her sword slowly.

  “But now we are no longer in our Age, and we are most likely to die battling this infernal beast. Not that I mind that part. But I see no point in keeping up the ruse of my identity for you lot. So if anyone has a problem, let us discuss it with our weapons.”

  Still, no one moved.

  Eventually Erec found his tongue.

  “I think—I think we’re all—I mean, I don’t need to fight you. Personally. Anyone else?”

  “No! No!” chirped Hector.

  Bors eyed the Black Knight. She towered over him, her sword ready.

  “I have other fights to fight,” muttered Bors.

  “Let’s move on then, shall we? We still have a tyrant king to find,” said Erec, getting to his feet.

  The knights marched into the woods. Bors led the way without a look back at the others. Mel heaved the sack of weapons and followed, glancing back at the Black Knight in awe. Helmet on but visor raised, Magdalena brought up the rear.

  They walked in silence except for the unavoidable creaking and clanking of armor. Erec felt slightly dizzy. Whether it was due to the battle with the lizard, the tumble down the hill, the fact that he hadn’t had much to eat that day, or that he now found himself in the company of two people of the female persuasion, he could not say. It was a potent mix; that was for sure.

  After a few minutes the knights entered a large clearing. There were strange, enormous flowers. There were buzzing insects (also strange and enormous). There was grass.

  And there were several giant beasts grazing on the grass in the distance.

  Bors raised his sword.

  “Wait,” whispered Hector.

  The creatures continued to graze. A few lifted their heads to regard the knights with mild interest.

  “They appear to be docile,” continued Hector. “Like a herd of cows.”

  “Monstrously sized cows,” added Erec.

  “How many kinds of terrible lizards are there?” asked Bors.

  “A bookful, it seems,” said Erec.

  Smiling, Hector turned to face the company.

  “But not all bad! You see? Just very large cows!”

  One of the “cows” snorted. It lowered its head. Thick horns protruded from its crown. It pawed the dirt. Others began to do the same.

  “I think they might be bulls, Hector,” said Erec, lowering his visor.

  “Hmm?” Hector still had his back to the beasts. He looked over his shoulder just as the creatures burst into a stampede that shook the ground.

  “Ah! Attacking cows! Attacking cows!” screamed Hector, fumbling for his sword.

  Mel ducked behind a boulder as the herd came thundering toward them. They made an uncanny, high-pitched screech. It was no moo.

  The knights scattered. Erec was knocked aside. Bors tripped over Erec’s leg. His sword flew straight up, then came back down. Bors, eyes bulging, shifted just as the sword struck the ground an inch from his cheek.

  Hector, blinded in a cloud of dust, swung his sword wildly.

  The Black Knight had managed to wrestle one of the creatures to the ground and was pulling hard on its horns. It let out an ear-piercing shriek.

  And a deep, rumbling bellow answered from the nearby woods. Birds took flight. Even the bulls paused.

  “That does not sound good,” said Erec.

  The tree line exploded. Trunks crashed to the ground. An enormous monster rammed its way through. Its head was attached to a long, long neck of sheer muscle. Its tail whipped and took down three trees. The roar was deafening. The behemoth’s front legs came crashing down like sledgehammers.

  The bulls turned away from the pesky knights to face this more serious opponent. They charged at the giant.

  “Retreat!” shouted Erec.

  The Black Knight grabbed Mel and pushed her along.

  The knights made for the trees. A pack of the spiky-spined terrible lizards burst onto the scene directly in front of them.

  “Other way!” yelled Hector, tripping over Bors, who clanged into Erec, who slammed into the Black Knight.

  The lizards sniffed the air. Unimpressed by the bumbling knights, they joined the ongoing mayhem, fighting both behemoth and monster bulls with apparent glee.

  The knights and Mel took the opportunity to run as fast as they could, not daring to stop until they were deep into the cover of the woods.

  Safe. For the moment.

  Chapter Five

  Terrible Knights

  BONK!

  Bors’s armored fist came down on Sir Erec’s helmet.

  “What was that for?”

  “Getting in my way!”

  “Your way? You were in my way, you oaf!”

  “Oaf?”

  “Do you prefer lummox?”

  Bors shoved Erec. Erec shoved Bors.

  Hector tried to break it up and was kicked in the shin for his effort. So he kicked back instead.

  They pushed. They slapped. They fell over. It was clanging and awkward.

  “If I were alone, I would have smited all of the creatures with ease!” said Bors.

  “Smote,” corrected Hector.

  “Watch it, bookworm,” Bors said, turning to Hector.

  “You think you’d be better alone?” shouted Erec. “I know I would! I’m the king of alone! I adventure solo! No squire! No companions! No irritating, clumsy oafs to trip over!”

  “Oaves,” corrected Hector.

  �
��Oaves is not a word. I can read, too, Hector,” snapped Erec.

  Magdalena sighed and sat on a fallen tree trunk. Mel dropped the sack of weapons. She looked at the Black Knight. Magdalena indicated the trunk with a wave of her hand. Mel joined her.

  “Thank you, sir, um, ma’am,” said Mel.

  The Black Knight glanced at Mel and then spit a bit of blood onto the ground.

  Bors swung out a leg and knocked over Erec.

  “Might Makes Right!” shouted Bors.

  “Why don’t you Might Makes Right yourself out on your own, then?”

  “I will indeed!” said Bors, slamming his visor shut. “You all are slowing me down. I’ll have this tyrant king defeated by nightfall.”

  “I, too, shall go off alone!” chimed in Hector. “It will give me a chance to read Merlin’s book, which might provide a clue to getting out of this mess. A fact that you knights are too dense to see.”

  “Reading a book is not going to help. But please feel free to find yourself a nice comfy spot somewhere,” said Erec. “The rest of us will search for and deal with this king. Are we all agreed to venture on our own, then?”

  They all turned to the Black Knight. The Black Knight had already left.

  Bors yanked some weapons from his sack and stalked into the trees.

  Hector, with the book strapped to his back, charged in a different direction, sword in hand.

  Erec dusted off his armor. He glanced up. Mel was still sitting on the fallen tree. He looked around. They were alone.

  “Splendid,” Erec muttered. “Come along then.”

  He headed into the trees. Mel lifted her sack and set off after him.

  Chapter Six

  Tricera-Joust

  Sir Erec trudged through the woods with Mel trailing behind him. He stopped abruptly, unbuckled his leg armor, and tossed it aside.

  Mel reached for the armor.

  “Leave it. It’s just slowing me down. Besides, you are not my squire,” said Erec.

  Mel nodded.

  Erec continued at a faster pace. Mel tried to keep up.

  Erec glanced back. Mel met his eye, then looked away quickly.

  Erec sighed.

  “So . . . have you always been a girl?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hmm.”

  They walked some more in awkward silence.

  “What about your name? Is it truly Mel?”

  “I shortened it from Melancholy.”

  “Melancholy. Cheerful.”

  “I am a good squire, sir.”

  They left the cover of the woods and entered a dusty clearing.

  “I didn’t want to be a scullery maid or a serf’s wife or a—”

  Erec held up a hand. He sniffed the air. He glanced around.

  “It’s not that I don’t find your tale fascinating. And to be perfectly honest, I see your point. But I believe we are not alone.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A brutish creature meandered into the clearing. It was sturdy and solidly built, standing a few feet taller than Erec and measuring the length of a large cart. It had a shieldlike crest over its eyes and three serious-looking horns protruding from its head. Each horn was the length of a sword.

  The creature saw them and snorted. It squawked. It took a few steps closer. It squawked more loudly. It waited. Then it narrowed its eyes and lowered its head, taking aim with its three horns.

  “Squire—” said Erec.

  Mel was already holding out a short lance.

  “Excellent choice.”

  Erec moved into the clearing to face the brute. The beast eyed him but did not charge.

  Erec stepped closer, lance raised and ready.

  “I’ve seen worse than you. Wouldn’t mind a good horse at the moment, but it can’t be helped.”

  Erec got into position.

  “Come now, terrible lizard with pointy weapons, what say you to a bit of sport?”

  The creature charged. Erec charged. His lance hit the creature directly between the eyes. The beast grunted, veering off to the side.

  “Ha! I wish Arthur could have seen that! Or better yet, Guinevere.” Erec grinned at Mel and winked.

  Mel nodded and pointed. “Sir, I think you’d best—”

  The beast circled back again. Erec snapped into action. This time the creature deflected Erec’s lance and scooped him off the ground. It shook him once, twice, three times, then tossed him aside like a twig.

  Erec landed with a thud. Dust swirled around him. When he raised himself to a sitting position, a knight-shaped imprint was left in the dirt behind him.

  The three-horned monster squawked and charged from across the clearing.

  Erec’s lance had landed several yards away. Mel ran for it, but she would never reach it in time.

  Erec looked around quickly. A few feet away was a fallen log about the size and length of himself. He dived toward it.

  He planted his boots firmly on the ground. He put his shoulder into the log. It was heavy, but Erec put all his strength to the task. It lifted.

  Erec held until the very moment the creature was upon him and then:

  “Ha!” shouted Erec. He admired his work.

  The log creaked under the weight. The beast growled.

  Mel cleared her throat. “Sir, perhaps we should take advantage of this moment and—”

  “Run?” asked Erec.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I concur.”

  They ran into the woods and soon found shelter behind some large rocks. They sat and caught their breaths.

  After a moment Erec spoke.

  “My squire is worthless, you know.”

  He looked at Mel and smiled.

  “Bors is lucky to have you.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sir Hector and the Fearsome Chickens

  Sir Hector had been trekking alone in the forest for some time without incident. He was uncomfortably warm but still in one piece.

  When he came upon a secluded clearing with a nice inviting rock, it seemed perfect for a little sit-down.

  He surveyed the entire clearing.

  He poked the overgrowth with his sword.

  It appeared to be lizard free.

  Hector put his sword and shield down by the rock. He unstrapped Merlin’s book from his back, pausing a moment to admire the leather binding.

  “I don’t care what the others think. This book must be important. And I for one am going to read it.”

  He settled comfortably, opened the book, and began to read.

  Hector turned the pages with a mixture of awe, horror, and excitement.

  “Fascinating. Just fascinating,” he muttered.

  He read and read, flipping pages, going back and forth, making noises like “hmm” and “oooh” and “gadzooks.”

  “They are rather incredible, really. So much variety, too.”

  The bushes rustled.

  Hector looked up.

  A twig snapped.

  He slowly reached for his sword.

  A small creature hopped into the clearing. It was the size of a chicken. It even had feathers of many bright colors. But it also had the scaly head of a reptile.

  Large, inquisitive eyes blinked at Hector. It tilted its head and chirped. For a terrible lizard, it was adorable.

  “Hello!” said Hector gently.

  The chicken took a step back.

  “It’s all right, my small friend. I won’t harm you.”

  Hector put the book down and inched toward the shy creature.

  “There, there. That’s a good chicken. Don’t be frightened of old Hector. I am a Knight of the Round Table.”

  Hector reached out slowly.

  The chicken let him stroke its head gently. It almost seemed to be smiling.

  “That’s right. That’s right, my little friend.”

  The chicken closed its eyes and made a little purring noise.

  Then it locked its little jaws around Hector’s finger, clamping down
hard with a row of tiny razor-sharp teeth.

  “Yowwww!”

  He shook his hand, but the chicken would not let go.

  Hector fell backward. He looked up in time to see another chicken sailing through the air, teeth bared, before it landed on his head.

  “Eeee!”

  Hector rolled over, swatting wildly. The two chickens jumped off and regrouped. The first chicken opened its cute little mouth and whistled shrilly.

  Suddenly the bushes exploded with chickens. Hector was completely surrounded.

  He looked about him uneasily. He lifted the book. For a long moment nothing moved.

  And then the chickens snapped simultaneously into action.

  “Ack!” Hector swung the book, knocking chickens into the air.

  Even more appeared to take their place. Hector tripped and was instantly set upon by the tiny, vicious cuties. They scratched, nibbled, and pecked the noble knight.

  His opinion of the creatures soured considerably.

  Chapter Eight

  Sir Bors and the Mace-Tailed Menace

  Bors swung his sword with a fierce and mighty roar.

  CRACK! CRACK!

  The tree didn’t stand a chance.

  “Arrr!”

  Bors kicked the tree for good measure.

  He was frustrated. This was unusual. And bothersome. Bors liked to know where he stood. He had no patience for magic and spells. He had no tolerance for boy squires becoming girl squires. Or always being girl squires but tricking him. Tricking Sir Bors!

  “Arrrrrrrrr!”

  He smote the tree once more.

  What he needed right now was a good old-fashioned brawl. He needed a terrible lizard.

  As if in answer, a low bark sounded in the near distance.

  Bors crashed through the overgrown ferns. Before him stood a four-legged creature. Built low to the ground. Strong legs. Small head. Heavily armored back.

  It hissed at Bors.

  “Oh, you want to have a go, eh? Right!”

  The creature thundered up to him, turned sharply, and whomped Bors with its tail. The end of the tail was shaped like a large, rounded stone.