When George set out from his father's house, he had a fool-proof plan, or so he thought. Unless he was a fool for thinking it up, which was always possible.
Somewhere, there were other would-be heroes. Others who wished to slay dragons. He would journey to another town where no one had heard of his defeat, and make it known that he wished to engage an apprentice. An apprentice hero, if there were such a thing. Perhaps even several, if he could find enough suitable boys. He didn't dare hope for a girl like his fairy godmother, and yet…he'd seen dozens of men challenge the dragon, but he alone among them had survived by running away. And he'd managed that only because Zoraida battled the dragon alone, distracting the beast.
He'd take up residence in the best inn in town, and pay the town crier to shout his news to all who would hear it for a few days. Then, he'd have applicants lining up across the town square, he was certain of it.
He'd even made up some signs he would nail to the outside of the inn, for those who could read. After all, if his father was right and a man needed more brain than brawn to beat a dragon, then an educated apprentice would be a wise choice.
He unrolled the signs on the table, surveying the top one with a critical eye. He hoped it would be enticing enough. He'd drawn the dragon himself, and his drawing skills had never been the best.
Heroes wanted, the poster read, for monster slaying of all kinds. Apply within.
"Are you looking for a hero, boy?"
George looked up. The man who met his gaze looked like one of the knights who'd died trying to defeat the dragon. A hero, in other words.
A hero who would claim all the glory, if they were to team up to kill the beast, George's traitorous mind added.
"Where's the dragon and what's the reward?" the man asked, turning the poster so the writing was right way up.
"Kasmirus, between the city and the river," George admitted. "But I don't know the reward. Every time it kills another knight, the king increases it."
"How big is the beast, and does it breathe fire?"
George swallowed. "It would scarcely fit in the square outside, and its fiery breath is so hot, it has been known to melt a man's armour."
The man considered the scroll for a long moment, then rolled it up. "Which means it's impossible to kill."
"Not impossible," George countered. "All creatures must die some time."
The man grinned. "Even us. But there's nothing heroic about being roasted alive. I'm Sir Chase." He held out his hand.
"George," he said, clasping the knight's arm briefly before letting go.
Sir Chase gestured to the innkeeper. "Two more ales for me and my friend here!" When the innkeeper nodded, Chase turned back to George. "Where are you headed?"
"Aros," George said. It was the nearest large town to Kasmirus, though hopefully far enough for no one to have heard of him before.
Sir Chase started, his eyes widening in horror for a moment before his expression relaxed into a smile again. "Not a good city for heroes, Aros. Their queen isn't fond of adventurers."
George raised his eyebrows. "That's not what I heard. When they hold tourneys, the queen richly rewards the victor. She holds heroes in high regard, or so it is said." And a kingdom where its queen held so much power was the most likely place to find a girl who would answer his call for a hero, George thought but did not say.
Sir Chase choked on his ale. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he said, "Aye, I heard the same. Until I met the woman. Beautiful as the day is long, but cold as ice. Looking into her eyes is enough to freeze your soul, and no mistake."
George paused for a moment, considering. Was he wrong to head for Aros? Perhaps he should travel further to another city.
No, he decided. What was a queen to him? He wanted to recruit some of her subjects, not meet the woman or even set foot in her court. "Then I'll be sure to avoid her," George said finally.
"Wise choice." Sir Chase raised his ale. "And I will avoid your dragon. I heard about a pack of troublesome wolves in the north. I might go see to those instead."
George clunked his cup against the knight's. "To both our good health, and long lives," he said gravely, and drank.
As he drained his drink, George prayed that he wasn't making the wrong decision in heading for Aros. Only time would tell.