Episode 5
St George's Day
In the courtyard of Castle Camelhot, Flicker was adding sticks and leaves to a tower of wood at least five times taller than he was. It was almost dark as he flew to the top of the structure and put on the last few things. When he fluttered back down to earth, Sir Blaze and Sir Burnevere were emerging from the castle, Sir Blaze looking particularly excited.
‘Is it ready?’ he asked.
‘I think it’ll have to be, don’t you?’ said Flicker, gazing up at his handiwork.
‘Aye, ’twill be a fine blaze,’ said Burnevere.
‘Ooh,’ said Blaze, ‘I can hardly wait for us to set fire to all the Georges and watch them burn! Did you make one, Flicker?’
‘I made Sir Loungelot’s,’ said Flicker. ‘I haven’t really had time to make another one for myself.’
‘Oh,’ said Blaze, with a sympathetic look, ‘what a shame!’
‘You’ve always found time to make one before,’ said Burnevere.
‘It’s all right,’ said Flicker, looking at Blaze. Then he looked at Burnevere, and said, ‘I was younger then, but this year… well, I woke up one morning, and I thought about all the work I had to do, and I decided I could probably do without. I mean, you only end up burning them, don’t you? Having a George is never as important as when you’re a child - even to you, Sir Blaze, I’m sure.’
‘Well,’ said Blaze, ‘I may have got a little more excited about it in my dim and distant youth, but I still love it! Someone telling the story of the Dragon and St George, and then everyone setting fire to their Georges, and all eating coffee-apples round a great big roaring bonfire…’
‘It is better with children, though,’ said Burnevere. ‘I remember telling the story on the first St George’s Day that the Princess stayed up for the bonfire. I can still see her wee face as she hung on my every word, a look of wonder in her saucer-like eyes… When I’d finished, she asked me a very good question. She asked why, if George was so bad, he was ever made a saint.’
‘That is a good question,’ said Flicker. ‘Why was he?’
‘He was canonised by humans, Flicker,’ said Burnevere. ‘Remember that stories are passed down through word of mouth, and along the way they’re embellished and added to - even changed completely. No doubt the humans thought they were doing right when they branded the Dragon as the evil one. Poor misguided souls.’
‘This is nice, isn’t it?’ said Blaze, as he smiled up at the unlit bonfire. ‘All the gang together.’
‘What gang, Sir Blaze?’ asked Flicker.
‘Oh, you know - the gang who went around questing together when Galahot and Hotbreath were away.’
‘We are missing one, Blaze,’ said Burnevere.
‘Are we?’ Blaze looked puzzled for a moment, and then he realised. ‘Oh yes. Well, we’re the best ones, aren’t we? Now, I’m off to bed. The sooner I get to sleep, the sooner tomorrow will come. Nighty-night!’
He made an excited little noise, clapped his hands together, then turned and skipped into the castle.
‘It’s true, you know,’ said Burnevere. ‘St George’s Day is for bairns. Well, I’m sure that one day there’ll be children in Camelhot again. Goodnight, Flicker.’
With that, Burnevere turned and followed Blaze into the castle. Flicker stood with his back to the bonfire, not noticing as someone crept out from
behind it and stole out of the castle grounds.
‘Is it ready?’ he asked.
‘I think it’ll have to be, don’t you?’ said Flicker, gazing up at his handiwork.
‘Aye, ’twill be a fine blaze,’ said Burnevere.
‘Ooh,’ said Blaze, ‘I can hardly wait for us to set fire to all the Georges and watch them burn! Did you make one, Flicker?’
‘I made Sir Loungelot’s,’ said Flicker. ‘I haven’t really had time to make another one for myself.’
‘Oh,’ said Blaze, with a sympathetic look, ‘what a shame!’
‘You’ve always found time to make one before,’ said Burnevere.
‘It’s all right,’ said Flicker, looking at Blaze. Then he looked at Burnevere, and said, ‘I was younger then, but this year… well, I woke up one morning, and I thought about all the work I had to do, and I decided I could probably do without. I mean, you only end up burning them, don’t you? Having a George is never as important as when you’re a child - even to you, Sir Blaze, I’m sure.’
‘Well,’ said Blaze, ‘I may have got a little more excited about it in my dim and distant youth, but I still love it! Someone telling the story of the Dragon and St George, and then everyone setting fire to their Georges, and all eating coffee-apples round a great big roaring bonfire…’
‘It is better with children, though,’ said Burnevere. ‘I remember telling the story on the first St George’s Day that the Princess stayed up for the bonfire. I can still see her wee face as she hung on my every word, a look of wonder in her saucer-like eyes… When I’d finished, she asked me a very good question. She asked why, if George was so bad, he was ever made a saint.’
‘That is a good question,’ said Flicker. ‘Why was he?’
‘He was canonised by humans, Flicker,’ said Burnevere. ‘Remember that stories are passed down through word of mouth, and along the way they’re embellished and added to - even changed completely. No doubt the humans thought they were doing right when they branded the Dragon as the evil one. Poor misguided souls.’
‘This is nice, isn’t it?’ said Blaze, as he smiled up at the unlit bonfire. ‘All the gang together.’
‘What gang, Sir Blaze?’ asked Flicker.
‘Oh, you know - the gang who went around questing together when Galahot and Hotbreath were away.’
‘We are missing one, Blaze,’ said Burnevere.
‘Are we?’ Blaze looked puzzled for a moment, and then he realised. ‘Oh yes. Well, we’re the best ones, aren’t we? Now, I’m off to bed. The sooner I get to sleep, the sooner tomorrow will come. Nighty-night!’
He made an excited little noise, clapped his hands together, then turned and skipped into the castle.
‘It’s true, you know,’ said Burnevere. ‘St George’s Day is for bairns. Well, I’m sure that one day there’ll be children in Camelhot again. Goodnight, Flicker.’
With that, Burnevere turned and followed Blaze into the castle. Flicker stood with his back to the bonfire, not noticing as someone crept out from
behind it and stole out of the castle grounds.
Count Geoffrey stood in the doorway of Threadbare Castle, watching as, across the moat, his three Evil Knights directed several serfs to form a bridge.
‘All right, that’s enough!’ Count Geoffrey called across to them. ‘Let’s test it. Come over here.’
Evil Knights Numbers One, Two and Three walked over the serfs all at once, causing them to cry out in pain and discomfort, but not one of them lost his grip.
‘Excellent!’ said Geoffrey, as the knights filed past him. ‘I don’t know why I was so worried about needing a new drawbridge.’
‘How will we close it, dread Count Geoffrey?’ asked Evil Knight Number Two.
‘Hmm.’ Geoffrey twirled his moustache thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps some kind of serf rope mechanism? Ah, but we may not have to worry about that for too long. Here comes my Evil Spy to tell me how I can get my hands on Camelhot.’
The Evil Spy ran across the serf drawbridge, causing it to cry out again, and then began whispering in Count Geoffrey’s ear.
‘I know it’s St George’s Day tomorrow!’ snapped Geoffrey, and his spy reeled back in alarm. ‘That’s even worse than when you came back with the news that it was Griddle’s birthday. Heh-heh-heh. Remember that? I pushed you into the moat, and the crocodiles… Oh, wait, that was my last Evil Spy. Well, what else? That better not be all!’
The Evil Spy whispered again into Geoffrey’s ear.
‘Hmm.’ Geoffrey walked through to his throne room, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he went, his four henchmen following him. ‘So those dragons think the dragon of the story killed St George, do they?’
‘I heard it was actually St Michael who killed the dragon,’ said Evil Knight Number Three.
Count Geoffrey paused, about to sit on his throne, and his eye twitched with irritation. ‘You heard what?’
‘A woman in the village told me that St Michael actually killed the dragon. Everyone thinks it was St George, but that’s a myth.’
‘The whole story is a myth, you fool!’ said Geoffrey. ‘There wasn’t really a dragon.’
‘How do you know that, dread Count Geoffrey?’ asked Evil Knight Number One.
‘Yeah, boss, how do you?’ said Evil Knight Number Two. ‘It’s not like there’s no such thing as dragons or anything.’
‘I know because all those stupid stories are myths,’ said Geoffrey. ‘They start with competitive types all showering together in a men’s locker room, making stuff up to try and convince each other they’re big brave heroes.’
As he finished speaking, there came a flash of lightning and a puff of smoke. Merle the Wizard had arrived.
‘You seem to know a lot about what goes on in men’s locker rooms, Geoff,’ she said.
‘That’s because I work out,’ said Geoffrey. ‘What do you want, you ugly old crone?’
‘Well,’ said Merle, ‘I couldn’t help overhearing, and I thought I should correct you. St George really did fight a dragon.’
‘But Merle,’ said Evil Knight Number Three, ‘this woman in the village told me -’
‘Was this woman in the village there?’ snapped Merle.
‘Obviously not,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Were you there, Merle?’
‘Sure I was. Georgie was a friend of mine. Nice fella. Great kisser. Of course I had to drug him first, being so old and warty.’
‘Really?’ said Geoffrey. ‘Weren’t you ever young?’
‘Maybe once,’ said Merle, ‘a long time ago. Well, anyway, that was all I wanted to say. I’ll be going now.’
‘No, wait,’ said Geoffrey. ‘If this St George guy really did kill a dragon… Wait, did he win? According to my Evil Spy, those Camelhotians think the dragon killed him.’
‘Well,’ said Merle, ‘it was a little more complicated than that. I don’t think you want me to tell you - it’ll spoil the illusion. You just enjoy the story the way you know it.’
‘Fine,’ Geoffrey said shortly. ‘Either way, this St George sounds like just the guy I need to empty Camelhot for me. If he killed the dragon, he has a proven track record. If not, he’ll have a taste for revenge. Or at least he will have when I’m through with him.’
‘But isn’t St George dead, dread Count Geoffrey?’ asked Evil Knight Number Two.
Geoffrey frowned at him. ‘Of course he is, you fool.’
‘But then…’ said Evil Knight Number Three, scratching his head.
‘We have a wizard, you bunch of numbskulls!’
‘Whoa, wait a minute, Geoff,’ said Merle. ‘If you’re talking about bringing someone back from the dead, that’s a huge undertaking.’
‘Are you saying you’re not powerful enough to do it?’ asked Geoffrey.
‘Well,’ said Merle, ‘of course I’m not saying that. It’s just that it might take a while. Let’s not forget that Georgie’s body will have rotted away by now, and without that for him to come home to…’
‘I’m not letting you take a while,’ said Geoffrey. ‘In fact, I want it done in the next twenty-four hours. It has to be St George’s Day.’
‘Why does it have to be St George’s Day?’ asked Evil Knight Number One. ‘He could kill those dragons any time he was here, couldn’t he?’
‘Sure, I guess,’ said Geoffrey, ‘but where’s the poetic justice in that? No, it has to be St George’s Day night, when those dragons are having their
bonfire… and what’s more… yes! I know how to do it. I take back what I said, Evil Spy - your information is proving most useful. I’ve picked up enough about dark magic from you, Merle, to understand a little about how these things work. I have a plan!’
‘All right, that’s enough!’ Count Geoffrey called across to them. ‘Let’s test it. Come over here.’
Evil Knights Numbers One, Two and Three walked over the serfs all at once, causing them to cry out in pain and discomfort, but not one of them lost his grip.
‘Excellent!’ said Geoffrey, as the knights filed past him. ‘I don’t know why I was so worried about needing a new drawbridge.’
‘How will we close it, dread Count Geoffrey?’ asked Evil Knight Number Two.
‘Hmm.’ Geoffrey twirled his moustache thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps some kind of serf rope mechanism? Ah, but we may not have to worry about that for too long. Here comes my Evil Spy to tell me how I can get my hands on Camelhot.’
The Evil Spy ran across the serf drawbridge, causing it to cry out again, and then began whispering in Count Geoffrey’s ear.
‘I know it’s St George’s Day tomorrow!’ snapped Geoffrey, and his spy reeled back in alarm. ‘That’s even worse than when you came back with the news that it was Griddle’s birthday. Heh-heh-heh. Remember that? I pushed you into the moat, and the crocodiles… Oh, wait, that was my last Evil Spy. Well, what else? That better not be all!’
The Evil Spy whispered again into Geoffrey’s ear.
‘Hmm.’ Geoffrey walked through to his throne room, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he went, his four henchmen following him. ‘So those dragons think the dragon of the story killed St George, do they?’
‘I heard it was actually St Michael who killed the dragon,’ said Evil Knight Number Three.
Count Geoffrey paused, about to sit on his throne, and his eye twitched with irritation. ‘You heard what?’
‘A woman in the village told me that St Michael actually killed the dragon. Everyone thinks it was St George, but that’s a myth.’
‘The whole story is a myth, you fool!’ said Geoffrey. ‘There wasn’t really a dragon.’
‘How do you know that, dread Count Geoffrey?’ asked Evil Knight Number One.
‘Yeah, boss, how do you?’ said Evil Knight Number Two. ‘It’s not like there’s no such thing as dragons or anything.’
‘I know because all those stupid stories are myths,’ said Geoffrey. ‘They start with competitive types all showering together in a men’s locker room, making stuff up to try and convince each other they’re big brave heroes.’
As he finished speaking, there came a flash of lightning and a puff of smoke. Merle the Wizard had arrived.
‘You seem to know a lot about what goes on in men’s locker rooms, Geoff,’ she said.
‘That’s because I work out,’ said Geoffrey. ‘What do you want, you ugly old crone?’
‘Well,’ said Merle, ‘I couldn’t help overhearing, and I thought I should correct you. St George really did fight a dragon.’
‘But Merle,’ said Evil Knight Number Three, ‘this woman in the village told me -’
‘Was this woman in the village there?’ snapped Merle.
‘Obviously not,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Were you there, Merle?’
‘Sure I was. Georgie was a friend of mine. Nice fella. Great kisser. Of course I had to drug him first, being so old and warty.’
‘Really?’ said Geoffrey. ‘Weren’t you ever young?’
‘Maybe once,’ said Merle, ‘a long time ago. Well, anyway, that was all I wanted to say. I’ll be going now.’
‘No, wait,’ said Geoffrey. ‘If this St George guy really did kill a dragon… Wait, did he win? According to my Evil Spy, those Camelhotians think the dragon killed him.’
‘Well,’ said Merle, ‘it was a little more complicated than that. I don’t think you want me to tell you - it’ll spoil the illusion. You just enjoy the story the way you know it.’
‘Fine,’ Geoffrey said shortly. ‘Either way, this St George sounds like just the guy I need to empty Camelhot for me. If he killed the dragon, he has a proven track record. If not, he’ll have a taste for revenge. Or at least he will have when I’m through with him.’
‘But isn’t St George dead, dread Count Geoffrey?’ asked Evil Knight Number Two.
Geoffrey frowned at him. ‘Of course he is, you fool.’
‘But then…’ said Evil Knight Number Three, scratching his head.
‘We have a wizard, you bunch of numbskulls!’
‘Whoa, wait a minute, Geoff,’ said Merle. ‘If you’re talking about bringing someone back from the dead, that’s a huge undertaking.’
‘Are you saying you’re not powerful enough to do it?’ asked Geoffrey.
‘Well,’ said Merle, ‘of course I’m not saying that. It’s just that it might take a while. Let’s not forget that Georgie’s body will have rotted away by now, and without that for him to come home to…’
‘I’m not letting you take a while,’ said Geoffrey. ‘In fact, I want it done in the next twenty-four hours. It has to be St George’s Day.’
‘Why does it have to be St George’s Day?’ asked Evil Knight Number One. ‘He could kill those dragons any time he was here, couldn’t he?’
‘Sure, I guess,’ said Geoffrey, ‘but where’s the poetic justice in that? No, it has to be St George’s Day night, when those dragons are having their
bonfire… and what’s more… yes! I know how to do it. I take back what I said, Evil Spy - your information is proving most useful. I’ve picked up enough about dark magic from you, Merle, to understand a little about how these things work. I have a plan!’
The sun had risen, and Princess Flame was taking an effigy of St George into the throne room. She found King Allfire and Queen Griddle both there, deep in conversation, but they stopped when they saw her.
‘What do you think, Stepmother?’ asked Flame, holding up the George. ‘Will he do?’
‘Perfectly, dear!’ said Griddle. ‘We did well there, didn’t we? Who’s a clever little seamstress, then?’
‘Now then, Stepmother,’ said Flame, holding her smile, ‘remember I’m not a child.’
‘Och, but that’s a bonny George you have there, Your Highness!’ came in ringing tones from behind Flame.
‘You know, Sir Burnevere,’ she said, ‘Daddy - I mean - Father and I were talking just the other day about how I’ve grown up so much lately.’
‘Sorry, Milady,’ said Burnevere. ‘You see, it was only last night that I was talking to someone about how St George’s Day is better with bairns, and remembering how much fun it all was when you were a wee girl.’
‘Oh,’ said Griddle, ‘I know! Won’t it be fun when there are children in Camelhot again, Flame? You know, dear, people are beginning to wonder -’
‘Stepmother, please, not now!’
‘Come along, dear,’ said Allfire, getting to his feet. ‘Why don’t we put George on the bonfire? Are you coming, Puff?’
‘No thank you, Daddy,’ said Flame, handing her father the George as he passed her. ‘It doesn’t take three of us. I’ll just set fire to him this evening.’
‘Very well,’ said Allfire, as he led Griddle from the room. ‘I’ll see you later, then.’
‘Bye,’ said Flame, looking a tad disgruntled.
‘Ehm…’ said Burnevere. ‘Did I bring up a delicate subject, Milady? I’m very sorry.’
‘Oh, it’s all right, Sir Burnevere,’ said Flame. ‘Stepmother Griddle was in matchmaking mode anyway. I’m pretty sure she’s planning some sort of occasion. She was on about finding the Minstrel the other day, and look at this.’ She went to Griddle’s throne, rummaged around behind it and pulled
out a scroll. ‘She’s even making a list of eligible… maidens? Oh, but that must mean…’
‘Coo-ee!’
The voice wafted in from the corridor outside. Flame jumped, dropping the parchment. It rolled across the floor, carried by the weight of its wooden rollers. She ran after it, picked it up and threw it out of the window just as Sir Blaze entered the room, carrying a snazzily dressed George of his own.
‘Mumsey not here?’ he asked. ‘I wanted to show her my George. He’s spiffing, don’t you think?’
‘Lovely,’ said Flame. ‘Stepmother Griddle’s outside, putting our George on the bonfire. I’m sure she’ll be blown away by that one, Blaze.’
‘It is rather good, isn’t it?’ said Blaze, gazing lovingly at the effigy. ‘I did wonder if his jacket clashed a little bit with his cravat, but - good heavens!’
He was staring at something directly behind Flame. She turned and saw a small dragon girl on the window ledge, dressed in a ragged brown dress and holding out Griddle’s scroll, which was now sopping with moat water.
‘Excuse me,’ said the girl. ‘You dropped this.’
‘Oh yes, so I did,’ said Flame, grabbing the scroll and stuffing it down the front of her dress. ‘Where did you come from?’
‘Just outside,’ said the girl.
‘Oh, right. And… before that?’
‘Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it?’ The girl hopped down into the room. ‘I’m here now.’
‘Why?’ asked Blaze. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, dear.’
‘Not at all,’ said the girl. ‘I just had a feeling that I needed to be here. For St George’s Day, you know.’
‘A bairn come for St George’s Day!’ said Burnevere. ‘Och, how bonny!’
‘Now, hold on a minute,’ said Flame. ‘Your parents will worry about you.’
‘That’s all right,’ said the girl. ‘I haven’t any.’
‘Oh,’ said Flame, ‘you poor thing!’
‘But someone must look after you,’ said Blaze.
‘I look after myself,’ said the girl.
‘But you’re just a little girl,’ said Flame. ‘If no one looks after you, then you must stay with us for longer than just St George’s Day.’
The little girl looked doubtful. ‘Well…’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Puff.’
Flame’s eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘Puff?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Well, Puff,’ said Sir Burnevere, ‘as it’s St George’s Day, I suggest the first thing you do is make yourself a George to burn. I’m sure the Princess will be glad to help you.’
‘Let Flicker help,’ said Blaze. ‘He hasn’t made one.’
‘That’s because he’s been very busy, Sir Blaze,’ said Burnevere.
‘Well,’ said Flame, ‘I can ask him.’
‘Then he’ll do it,’ said Blaze. ‘Gosh, how exciting! I’ll go and see if I can find any more old clothes with a bit of pizzazz!’
Blaze ran off. Flame reached down her front, pulled out the sodden parchment and put it back behind Griddle’s throne.
‘We’ll be stopping at my room on the way up, Puff,’ she said. ‘I’ve just put a lot of moat water all down my front.’
‘What do you think, Stepmother?’ asked Flame, holding up the George. ‘Will he do?’
‘Perfectly, dear!’ said Griddle. ‘We did well there, didn’t we? Who’s a clever little seamstress, then?’
‘Now then, Stepmother,’ said Flame, holding her smile, ‘remember I’m not a child.’
‘Och, but that’s a bonny George you have there, Your Highness!’ came in ringing tones from behind Flame.
‘You know, Sir Burnevere,’ she said, ‘Daddy - I mean - Father and I were talking just the other day about how I’ve grown up so much lately.’
‘Sorry, Milady,’ said Burnevere. ‘You see, it was only last night that I was talking to someone about how St George’s Day is better with bairns, and remembering how much fun it all was when you were a wee girl.’
‘Oh,’ said Griddle, ‘I know! Won’t it be fun when there are children in Camelhot again, Flame? You know, dear, people are beginning to wonder -’
‘Stepmother, please, not now!’
‘Come along, dear,’ said Allfire, getting to his feet. ‘Why don’t we put George on the bonfire? Are you coming, Puff?’
‘No thank you, Daddy,’ said Flame, handing her father the George as he passed her. ‘It doesn’t take three of us. I’ll just set fire to him this evening.’
‘Very well,’ said Allfire, as he led Griddle from the room. ‘I’ll see you later, then.’
‘Bye,’ said Flame, looking a tad disgruntled.
‘Ehm…’ said Burnevere. ‘Did I bring up a delicate subject, Milady? I’m very sorry.’
‘Oh, it’s all right, Sir Burnevere,’ said Flame. ‘Stepmother Griddle was in matchmaking mode anyway. I’m pretty sure she’s planning some sort of occasion. She was on about finding the Minstrel the other day, and look at this.’ She went to Griddle’s throne, rummaged around behind it and pulled
out a scroll. ‘She’s even making a list of eligible… maidens? Oh, but that must mean…’
‘Coo-ee!’
The voice wafted in from the corridor outside. Flame jumped, dropping the parchment. It rolled across the floor, carried by the weight of its wooden rollers. She ran after it, picked it up and threw it out of the window just as Sir Blaze entered the room, carrying a snazzily dressed George of his own.
‘Mumsey not here?’ he asked. ‘I wanted to show her my George. He’s spiffing, don’t you think?’
‘Lovely,’ said Flame. ‘Stepmother Griddle’s outside, putting our George on the bonfire. I’m sure she’ll be blown away by that one, Blaze.’
‘It is rather good, isn’t it?’ said Blaze, gazing lovingly at the effigy. ‘I did wonder if his jacket clashed a little bit with his cravat, but - good heavens!’
He was staring at something directly behind Flame. She turned and saw a small dragon girl on the window ledge, dressed in a ragged brown dress and holding out Griddle’s scroll, which was now sopping with moat water.
‘Excuse me,’ said the girl. ‘You dropped this.’
‘Oh yes, so I did,’ said Flame, grabbing the scroll and stuffing it down the front of her dress. ‘Where did you come from?’
‘Just outside,’ said the girl.
‘Oh, right. And… before that?’
‘Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it?’ The girl hopped down into the room. ‘I’m here now.’
‘Why?’ asked Blaze. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, dear.’
‘Not at all,’ said the girl. ‘I just had a feeling that I needed to be here. For St George’s Day, you know.’
‘A bairn come for St George’s Day!’ said Burnevere. ‘Och, how bonny!’
‘Now, hold on a minute,’ said Flame. ‘Your parents will worry about you.’
‘That’s all right,’ said the girl. ‘I haven’t any.’
‘Oh,’ said Flame, ‘you poor thing!’
‘But someone must look after you,’ said Blaze.
‘I look after myself,’ said the girl.
‘But you’re just a little girl,’ said Flame. ‘If no one looks after you, then you must stay with us for longer than just St George’s Day.’
The little girl looked doubtful. ‘Well…’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Puff.’
Flame’s eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘Puff?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Well, Puff,’ said Sir Burnevere, ‘as it’s St George’s Day, I suggest the first thing you do is make yourself a George to burn. I’m sure the Princess will be glad to help you.’
‘Let Flicker help,’ said Blaze. ‘He hasn’t made one.’
‘That’s because he’s been very busy, Sir Blaze,’ said Burnevere.
‘Well,’ said Flame, ‘I can ask him.’
‘Then he’ll do it,’ said Blaze. ‘Gosh, how exciting! I’ll go and see if I can find any more old clothes with a bit of pizzazz!’
Blaze ran off. Flame reached down her front, pulled out the sodden parchment and put it back behind Griddle’s throne.
‘We’ll be stopping at my room on the way up, Puff,’ she said. ‘I’ve just put a lot of moat water all down my front.’
Some time later, Flicker, Flame and Puff were kneeling on the floor of Flicker’s workshop, stuffing straw into a purple garment of some kind.
‘Are you sure you won’t want to wear this again, Flicker?’ asked Flame.
‘Quite sure,’ said Flicker. ‘I never really liked this one, to be honest. So, Puff…’
‘Yes?’ said Puff.
‘Are you sure you don’t just want to give us a little hint about where you’ve come from?’
‘Why? Don’t you trust me, Flicker?’
‘Well, I don’t know,’ said Flicker. ‘The last time a child turned up on our doorstep, it turned out to be a mole.’
‘What,’ said Flame, ‘a mole like a rodent?’
‘No.’ Flicker stood up, went to a chest and started rummaging through it. ‘A mole like Sir Agraflame.’
‘Oh, a mole like Sir Agraflame,’ said Flame. ‘When was this?’
‘A while ago. You and Queen Griddle had gone off somewhere.’
Flicker returned to the work station with a small sack, a large cabbage, a handful of white stuff, a red bobble-hat and a pair of black woollen gloves.
‘I’m afraid this is all I’ve got,’ he said, placing the items on the floor. ‘I don’t really go in for trousers. Nor woolly hats, really, but I seem to have this one lying around.’
‘Let’s see what Blaze comes up with,’ said Flame, as she stuffed the cabbage into the small sack. ‘He’s worn everything you can wear at one time or another.’
Flicker picked up the white stuff, tore some off and handed it to Puff, saying, ‘Wool cotton. I invented it to mop up battle wounds, but it makes great stuffing as well.’
Flicker and Puff each began stuffing a glove, while Flame set to work sewing the cabbage-in-a-sack onto Flicker’s purple jumper.
‘You and your three-quarter-length sleeves, Flicker,’ said Flame. ‘He’s going to have awfully short arms.’
‘Well,’ said Flicker, ‘I suppose we could lengthen them with a bit of old sacking or something.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ said Puff. ‘He’s going to look brilliant. And in answer to your question, Flicker, I came a long way.’
‘Oh,’ said Flicker, surprised to have received any answer at all. ‘How long?’
‘Further than you travelled to come here. I’ve heard the stories too, you know, of Camelhot and the Square Table.’
‘How do you know so much about my coming here?’ asked Flicker.
‘Well,’ said Puff, ‘it’s obvious, isn’t it? What else would a young man of principles be doing here?’
‘So you know I’m principled as well.’
‘If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be making a George with me when you’ve got important work to do. I only know what I’ve heard about this place.
Camelhot stands for all that is good and true. It is where noble knights and their king gather around the Square Table where, each side being of equal
length, every seat is at the head, to show that all men are equal.’
‘But not all women, unfortunately,’ said Flame.
‘That is unfortunate,’ said Puff. ‘If I was a boy, I might have liked to be a page here so I could learn the noble arts of knighthood, and then gone on to be a squire and eventually a knight. But I could never have done that, because I’m only a girl.’
‘Girls are quite as good as boys,’ said Flicker. ‘But knighthood is very dangerous, Puff, and we are sworn to protect our ladies.’
‘Who says we need protecting?’ said Flame.
‘The Code of Chivalry.’
‘I had to ask.’
‘I think the Code of Chivalry is a wonderful thing,’ said Puff. ‘I think it’s so wonderful that, if things change - just, you know, generally - the Code will change with them. Maybe one day women will be considered just as worthy of getting their brains bashed in as men.’
As she finished speaking, the door flew open, and Sir Blaze danced in holding up a pair of sparkly silver trousers and polka-dot socks.
‘Your fashion consultant has arrived!’ he said. ‘What do you think?’
‘Fabulous, Sir Blaze,’ said Puff, grinning as she took the socks from him.
‘Move over.’ Blaze helped himself to a position on the floor, between Flicker and Flame. ‘I’m a dab hand at sewing.’
‘Are you sure you won’t want to wear this again, Flicker?’ asked Flame.
‘Quite sure,’ said Flicker. ‘I never really liked this one, to be honest. So, Puff…’
‘Yes?’ said Puff.
‘Are you sure you don’t just want to give us a little hint about where you’ve come from?’
‘Why? Don’t you trust me, Flicker?’
‘Well, I don’t know,’ said Flicker. ‘The last time a child turned up on our doorstep, it turned out to be a mole.’
‘What,’ said Flame, ‘a mole like a rodent?’
‘No.’ Flicker stood up, went to a chest and started rummaging through it. ‘A mole like Sir Agraflame.’
‘Oh, a mole like Sir Agraflame,’ said Flame. ‘When was this?’
‘A while ago. You and Queen Griddle had gone off somewhere.’
Flicker returned to the work station with a small sack, a large cabbage, a handful of white stuff, a red bobble-hat and a pair of black woollen gloves.
‘I’m afraid this is all I’ve got,’ he said, placing the items on the floor. ‘I don’t really go in for trousers. Nor woolly hats, really, but I seem to have this one lying around.’
‘Let’s see what Blaze comes up with,’ said Flame, as she stuffed the cabbage into the small sack. ‘He’s worn everything you can wear at one time or another.’
Flicker picked up the white stuff, tore some off and handed it to Puff, saying, ‘Wool cotton. I invented it to mop up battle wounds, but it makes great stuffing as well.’
Flicker and Puff each began stuffing a glove, while Flame set to work sewing the cabbage-in-a-sack onto Flicker’s purple jumper.
‘You and your three-quarter-length sleeves, Flicker,’ said Flame. ‘He’s going to have awfully short arms.’
‘Well,’ said Flicker, ‘I suppose we could lengthen them with a bit of old sacking or something.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ said Puff. ‘He’s going to look brilliant. And in answer to your question, Flicker, I came a long way.’
‘Oh,’ said Flicker, surprised to have received any answer at all. ‘How long?’
‘Further than you travelled to come here. I’ve heard the stories too, you know, of Camelhot and the Square Table.’
‘How do you know so much about my coming here?’ asked Flicker.
‘Well,’ said Puff, ‘it’s obvious, isn’t it? What else would a young man of principles be doing here?’
‘So you know I’m principled as well.’
‘If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be making a George with me when you’ve got important work to do. I only know what I’ve heard about this place.
Camelhot stands for all that is good and true. It is where noble knights and their king gather around the Square Table where, each side being of equal
length, every seat is at the head, to show that all men are equal.’
‘But not all women, unfortunately,’ said Flame.
‘That is unfortunate,’ said Puff. ‘If I was a boy, I might have liked to be a page here so I could learn the noble arts of knighthood, and then gone on to be a squire and eventually a knight. But I could never have done that, because I’m only a girl.’
‘Girls are quite as good as boys,’ said Flicker. ‘But knighthood is very dangerous, Puff, and we are sworn to protect our ladies.’
‘Who says we need protecting?’ said Flame.
‘The Code of Chivalry.’
‘I had to ask.’
‘I think the Code of Chivalry is a wonderful thing,’ said Puff. ‘I think it’s so wonderful that, if things change - just, you know, generally - the Code will change with them. Maybe one day women will be considered just as worthy of getting their brains bashed in as men.’
As she finished speaking, the door flew open, and Sir Blaze danced in holding up a pair of sparkly silver trousers and polka-dot socks.
‘Your fashion consultant has arrived!’ he said. ‘What do you think?’
‘Fabulous, Sir Blaze,’ said Puff, grinning as she took the socks from him.
‘Move over.’ Blaze helped himself to a position on the floor, between Flicker and Flame. ‘I’m a dab hand at sewing.’
Some time later, the four dragons had finished making their George. When Blaze burnt off his last length of thread, the effigy had acquired a jacket and bowtie, and a pair of sandals large enough to fit the feet of a male dragon.
‘So long, Sir Delores,’ said Flicker.
Blaze looked up. ‘Sir Delores? Why do you bring her up all of a sudden?’
‘No reason,’ said Flicker. ‘There, I think he looks pretty good, don’t you?’
‘May I take him out to the bonfire now?’ asked Puff, smiling sweetly at Flame.
‘Of course you can, sweetheart,’ said Flame.
‘I’ll take you,’ said Blaze, jumping up eagerly. ‘I do so love colour coordinating the Georges on the bonfire - it’s like a little fashion show!’
Smiling, Puff grabbed Blaze’s hand, and together they carried the George out of the room. Flicker and Flame were left kneeling on the floor together. They looked at each other, smiling, then began to get up.
‘My knees are stiff,’ said Flame. ‘I must be getting old.’
‘Mine are all right,’ said Flicker.
‘Yes, well, you’re in tip top physical condition, aren’t you?’
‘Oh, well… I wouldn’t say that.’
‘I would,’ said Flame, bringing spots of red to Flicker’s cheeks. She decided to change the subject. ‘So, how are you these days?’
‘Can’t complain,’ said Flicker. ‘You?’
‘Oh, all right. I’ve just got something on my mind - you know how it is.’
‘Is it anything I can help you with?’
‘Not at all,’ said Flame, ‘but I’ll tell you anyway. Stepmother Griddle is organising a royal ball. At first I thought it was for me - you know, to get me married and making heirs - but then I found she’d made a list of eligible maidens.’
‘Gosh,’ said Flicker. ‘Do you think…?’
Flame nodded. ‘Blaze.’
‘I suppose she wants him to continue Sir Herman’s line.’
‘Yes, I suppose she does too. Well… there’s no need to worry, is there? Blaze might meet a nice girl, and… and want to marry her.’ She did not sound convinced.
‘Well,’ said Flicker, ‘we’ll see what comes of that, but in the meantime, we’ve got more immediate things to worry about. Just where did Puff come from?’
‘Outside,’ said Flame. ‘She flew through the window and said she wanted to be here for St George’s Day. When I asked about her parents, she
said she didn’t have any.’
‘Oh no!’ said Flicker. ‘The poor girl.’
‘It’s funny, isn’t it? Her name being Puff. That’s what my father calls me.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘It’s like she’s… connected to me in some way.’
‘You mean you think she’s your mother from the past or something?’ asked Flicker.
Flame shook her head. ‘Not my mother. I’ve only just gone and found out about her. If she was going to turn up as a small child, she’d have done it then, surely. No, you see, that Puff… well, she reminded me a lot of you, Flicker, when she was talking about the Code of Chivalry and the Square
Table and everything.’
‘She talked a bit like you as well, wanting women to be knights.’
‘Well, she had a point.’
‘Of course,’ said Flicker. ‘But I honestly think she’s just a waif, Flame, and after tonight we’re going to have to find something to do with her.’
‘So long, Sir Delores,’ said Flicker.
Blaze looked up. ‘Sir Delores? Why do you bring her up all of a sudden?’
‘No reason,’ said Flicker. ‘There, I think he looks pretty good, don’t you?’
‘May I take him out to the bonfire now?’ asked Puff, smiling sweetly at Flame.
‘Of course you can, sweetheart,’ said Flame.
‘I’ll take you,’ said Blaze, jumping up eagerly. ‘I do so love colour coordinating the Georges on the bonfire - it’s like a little fashion show!’
Smiling, Puff grabbed Blaze’s hand, and together they carried the George out of the room. Flicker and Flame were left kneeling on the floor together. They looked at each other, smiling, then began to get up.
‘My knees are stiff,’ said Flame. ‘I must be getting old.’
‘Mine are all right,’ said Flicker.
‘Yes, well, you’re in tip top physical condition, aren’t you?’
‘Oh, well… I wouldn’t say that.’
‘I would,’ said Flame, bringing spots of red to Flicker’s cheeks. She decided to change the subject. ‘So, how are you these days?’
‘Can’t complain,’ said Flicker. ‘You?’
‘Oh, all right. I’ve just got something on my mind - you know how it is.’
‘Is it anything I can help you with?’
‘Not at all,’ said Flame, ‘but I’ll tell you anyway. Stepmother Griddle is organising a royal ball. At first I thought it was for me - you know, to get me married and making heirs - but then I found she’d made a list of eligible maidens.’
‘Gosh,’ said Flicker. ‘Do you think…?’
Flame nodded. ‘Blaze.’
‘I suppose she wants him to continue Sir Herman’s line.’
‘Yes, I suppose she does too. Well… there’s no need to worry, is there? Blaze might meet a nice girl, and… and want to marry her.’ She did not sound convinced.
‘Well,’ said Flicker, ‘we’ll see what comes of that, but in the meantime, we’ve got more immediate things to worry about. Just where did Puff come from?’
‘Outside,’ said Flame. ‘She flew through the window and said she wanted to be here for St George’s Day. When I asked about her parents, she
said she didn’t have any.’
‘Oh no!’ said Flicker. ‘The poor girl.’
‘It’s funny, isn’t it? Her name being Puff. That’s what my father calls me.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘It’s like she’s… connected to me in some way.’
‘You mean you think she’s your mother from the past or something?’ asked Flicker.
Flame shook her head. ‘Not my mother. I’ve only just gone and found out about her. If she was going to turn up as a small child, she’d have done it then, surely. No, you see, that Puff… well, she reminded me a lot of you, Flicker, when she was talking about the Code of Chivalry and the Square
Table and everything.’
‘She talked a bit like you as well, wanting women to be knights.’
‘Well, she had a point.’
‘Of course,’ said Flicker. ‘But I honestly think she’s just a waif, Flame, and after tonight we’re going to have to find something to do with her.’
Some time later, Puff had separated herself from Sir Blaze, and found her way to the kitchen. She watched with interest as a large blue dragon in a chef’s hat and apron impaled apples on sticks, and dunked them first into a sticky substance, then into a large bowl of coffee beans.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Puff.
Chef Turnspit let out a yell of surprise, dropped the apple he was working on and clutched a hand to his heart. Once recovered, he looked around for the speaker. He had to crane his neck to see Puff on the other side of the table.
‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘I’m not sure you’re meant to be here, little girl.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Puff. ‘I’m a waif the Princess has taken a fancy to.’
‘Oh,’ said Turnspit. ‘Well, in that case, I’m making coffee-apples. Would you like to try one?’
He picked up one of the completed items and held it out to Puff. She took the stick and looked doubtfully at the coffee-covered apple.
‘You’ll want to cook it.’
‘Oh.’ Puff breathed a stream of fire onto the apple, turning it within the flames, then stopped and tried it. ‘It’s quite nice, isn’t it?’
‘It’s my masterpiece,’ Turnspit said. ‘Well, one of them.’
‘I’d better be going,’ said Puff. ‘Goodbye, and thank you for the coffee-apple.’
She climbed a flight of stairs, and then spent some time wandering around the corridors of Camelhot, nibbling on her coffee-apple. When she heard someone bellowing, ‘Flicker!’, she followed the sound to a door inscribed with a capital L. She stood in front of it, still nibbling the apple. A moment later, the door was flung open. Loungelot let out a small cry of surprise when he saw Puff.
‘Blazing dragons!’ he said. ‘Who the devil are you?’
‘Puff,’ said Puff. ‘You’re magic, aren’t you?’
Loungelot’s frown deepened. ‘No.’
‘But there’s something magic about you. I can tell, you see, because I’m magic too.’
‘Are you?’ Loungelot said scathingly.
‘Yes. I’m Puff the Magic Dragon.’
‘Of course you are. There you are, Flicker - it’s about time!’
Puff turned to see Flicker approaching, weighed down by vast amounts of clothing and armour.
‘What are you doing here, Puff?’ he asked, spotting her on his way past. ‘Why aren’t you with Sir Blaze?’
‘He lost me,’ said Puff.
‘Well, perhaps he’d better find you again, or the Princess had. You shouldn’t be wandering around on your own.’
‘Flicker,’ said Loungelot. ‘What is this obnoxious child doing here?’
‘She’s a waif,’ said Flicker. ‘We’re looking after her.’
‘And who, precisely, are “we”? You, the Princess and Sir Blaze, I suppose. May I remind you, Flicker, that you are my squire? You obey me before anyone else, including the Princess.’
‘What about the King?’ asked Puff.
Loungelot turned and frowned at her. ‘I thought you’d gone.’
‘Shows how much you know.’
Loungelot scowled. Flicker, suppressing a laugh, said, ‘You’d better go, Puff. We’ve got a lot to do here.’
‘All right, Flicker,’ said Puff. ‘I’ll see you at the bonfire.’
With that, she turned and trotted off. Loungelot slammed the door shut, then turned his gaze onto Flicker, who was now relieved of his burden. The room was in perfect order, with the clothes and armour all put away, but Loungelot was in a critical mood.
‘It took you an awfully long time to get my washing done today,’ he said. ‘You’ve been slacking off, haven’t you? You’ve been playing with that little girl.’
‘I can’t deny it, Milord,’ said Flicker.
‘You ought to be careful, you know. There’s something not right about that child.’
‘Well, it is rather funny her turning up out of nowhere like that. But she seems harmless enough.’
‘She told me she was magic.’
‘She told you what?’
‘You heard,’ said Loungelot. ‘If you ask me, that child is insane. Well, come along, don’t dawdle - it’s time for my pedicure.’
Loungelot plonked himself onto his chaise longue. A moment later, Flicker was kneeling beside him, filing down the claws on his feet.
‘You know, Flicker,’ said Loungelot, ‘I think your performance is beginning to drop off a bit.’
‘I’m terribly sorry, Milord,’ said Flicker. ‘I’ll try harder.’
‘See that you do. I’d hate to have to dismiss you.’
‘Mmm, I’m sure you would.’
‘You’re getting above yourself as well,’ said Loungelot, sitting up slightly. ‘There’ll be no more of this backchat, squire, if you know what’s good for you.’
Flicker said nothing. Loungelot frowned at him for a second or two, then lay back and tried to relax, but his brow remained furrowed.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Puff.
Chef Turnspit let out a yell of surprise, dropped the apple he was working on and clutched a hand to his heart. Once recovered, he looked around for the speaker. He had to crane his neck to see Puff on the other side of the table.
‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘I’m not sure you’re meant to be here, little girl.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Puff. ‘I’m a waif the Princess has taken a fancy to.’
‘Oh,’ said Turnspit. ‘Well, in that case, I’m making coffee-apples. Would you like to try one?’
He picked up one of the completed items and held it out to Puff. She took the stick and looked doubtfully at the coffee-covered apple.
‘You’ll want to cook it.’
‘Oh.’ Puff breathed a stream of fire onto the apple, turning it within the flames, then stopped and tried it. ‘It’s quite nice, isn’t it?’
‘It’s my masterpiece,’ Turnspit said. ‘Well, one of them.’
‘I’d better be going,’ said Puff. ‘Goodbye, and thank you for the coffee-apple.’
She climbed a flight of stairs, and then spent some time wandering around the corridors of Camelhot, nibbling on her coffee-apple. When she heard someone bellowing, ‘Flicker!’, she followed the sound to a door inscribed with a capital L. She stood in front of it, still nibbling the apple. A moment later, the door was flung open. Loungelot let out a small cry of surprise when he saw Puff.
‘Blazing dragons!’ he said. ‘Who the devil are you?’
‘Puff,’ said Puff. ‘You’re magic, aren’t you?’
Loungelot’s frown deepened. ‘No.’
‘But there’s something magic about you. I can tell, you see, because I’m magic too.’
‘Are you?’ Loungelot said scathingly.
‘Yes. I’m Puff the Magic Dragon.’
‘Of course you are. There you are, Flicker - it’s about time!’
Puff turned to see Flicker approaching, weighed down by vast amounts of clothing and armour.
‘What are you doing here, Puff?’ he asked, spotting her on his way past. ‘Why aren’t you with Sir Blaze?’
‘He lost me,’ said Puff.
‘Well, perhaps he’d better find you again, or the Princess had. You shouldn’t be wandering around on your own.’
‘Flicker,’ said Loungelot. ‘What is this obnoxious child doing here?’
‘She’s a waif,’ said Flicker. ‘We’re looking after her.’
‘And who, precisely, are “we”? You, the Princess and Sir Blaze, I suppose. May I remind you, Flicker, that you are my squire? You obey me before anyone else, including the Princess.’
‘What about the King?’ asked Puff.
Loungelot turned and frowned at her. ‘I thought you’d gone.’
‘Shows how much you know.’
Loungelot scowled. Flicker, suppressing a laugh, said, ‘You’d better go, Puff. We’ve got a lot to do here.’
‘All right, Flicker,’ said Puff. ‘I’ll see you at the bonfire.’
With that, she turned and trotted off. Loungelot slammed the door shut, then turned his gaze onto Flicker, who was now relieved of his burden. The room was in perfect order, with the clothes and armour all put away, but Loungelot was in a critical mood.
‘It took you an awfully long time to get my washing done today,’ he said. ‘You’ve been slacking off, haven’t you? You’ve been playing with that little girl.’
‘I can’t deny it, Milord,’ said Flicker.
‘You ought to be careful, you know. There’s something not right about that child.’
‘Well, it is rather funny her turning up out of nowhere like that. But she seems harmless enough.’
‘She told me she was magic.’
‘She told you what?’
‘You heard,’ said Loungelot. ‘If you ask me, that child is insane. Well, come along, don’t dawdle - it’s time for my pedicure.’
Loungelot plonked himself onto his chaise longue. A moment later, Flicker was kneeling beside him, filing down the claws on his feet.
‘You know, Flicker,’ said Loungelot, ‘I think your performance is beginning to drop off a bit.’
‘I’m terribly sorry, Milord,’ said Flicker. ‘I’ll try harder.’
‘See that you do. I’d hate to have to dismiss you.’
‘Mmm, I’m sure you would.’
‘You’re getting above yourself as well,’ said Loungelot, sitting up slightly. ‘There’ll be no more of this backchat, squire, if you know what’s good for you.’
Flicker said nothing. Loungelot frowned at him for a second or two, then lay back and tried to relax, but his brow remained furrowed.
Sir Hotbreath was in his quarters, clumsily stitching together a George with Sir Galahot. When Hotbreath belched and let out a stream of fire, Galahot pulled the George away from him and enveloped it in a protective embrace.
‘Pardon me,’ said Hotbreath.
‘Do hurry, Sir Hotbreath, sir!’ said Galahot, replacing the George between them. ‘We must have him ready in good time for the bonfire.’
‘Galahot, old friend,’ said Hotbreath. ‘Are you quite sure it’s not babyish for us to make a George?’
‘Why,’ said Galahot, ‘how preposterous! The story of the Dragon and St George is an important part of our heritage. We burn these effigies each year not merely to amuse our children, sir, but as a mark of respect to that brave Dragon.’
There came a knock at the door.
‘Come in!’ called Hotbreath.
The door swung open, and Sir Blaze entered the room.
‘By any chance, have you seen a little girl wandering about the place?’ he asked.
‘Not for many a year, sir,’ said Galahot.
‘Have you lost one?’ asked Hotbreath. ‘I didn’t know you had one in the first place.’
‘She’s a waif,’ said Blaze. ‘I was supposed to be looking after her, but she’s wandered off. Oh, I say, what a smashing George! Is he ready for the bonfire yet?’
‘I think he must be, sir,’ said Galahot, ‘for sunset is almost upon us.’
‘This waif of yours will come to the bonfire, won’t she, Blaze?’ said Hotbreath.
‘I expect so,’ said Blaze. ‘Well, come along then - we’d better get down there. Ooh, it’s so exciting!’
He skipped from the room, followed by Hotbreath and Galahot, carrying their George between them.
‘Pardon me,’ said Hotbreath.
‘Do hurry, Sir Hotbreath, sir!’ said Galahot, replacing the George between them. ‘We must have him ready in good time for the bonfire.’
‘Galahot, old friend,’ said Hotbreath. ‘Are you quite sure it’s not babyish for us to make a George?’
‘Why,’ said Galahot, ‘how preposterous! The story of the Dragon and St George is an important part of our heritage. We burn these effigies each year not merely to amuse our children, sir, but as a mark of respect to that brave Dragon.’
There came a knock at the door.
‘Come in!’ called Hotbreath.
The door swung open, and Sir Blaze entered the room.
‘By any chance, have you seen a little girl wandering about the place?’ he asked.
‘Not for many a year, sir,’ said Galahot.
‘Have you lost one?’ asked Hotbreath. ‘I didn’t know you had one in the first place.’
‘She’s a waif,’ said Blaze. ‘I was supposed to be looking after her, but she’s wandered off. Oh, I say, what a smashing George! Is he ready for the bonfire yet?’
‘I think he must be, sir,’ said Galahot, ‘for sunset is almost upon us.’
‘This waif of yours will come to the bonfire, won’t she, Blaze?’ said Hotbreath.
‘I expect so,’ said Blaze. ‘Well, come along then - we’d better get down there. Ooh, it’s so exciting!’
He skipped from the room, followed by Hotbreath and Galahot, carrying their George between them.
When Galahot, Blaze and Hotbreath reached the bonfire, they found Cinder and Clinker there, arranging a very small and badly made George near its base.
‘Another one - goodie!’ said Blaze. ‘But you know, Cinder and Clinker, I’m fairly sure St George didn’t have two heads.’
‘We only have two-headed clothes, Milord,’ said Cinder.
‘He’d have looked a bit silly wearing them with only one head,’ said Clinker.
‘Quite right - artistic licence,’ said Blaze. ‘I say, you chaps - Squire Flicker built a magnificent bonfire, didn’t he?’
‘Did he build this by himself?’ said Galahot, staring up at the towering structure. ‘And all in one evening? Egad, sir!’
Hotbreath belched, and his stream of fire licked the heads of Cinder and Clinker’s George.
‘Do be careful, Hotbreath - we mustn’t light the bonfire early!’ said Blaze.
‘It will be a magnificent sight, sir!’ said Galahot.
‘A towering inferno!’ said Hotbreath.
‘Oh dear,’ said Blaze. ‘I suppose I’d better have one more look for Puff. If she’s lost, she’ll miss the bonfire, and she won’t want that.’
He went back inside, while Galahot, Hotbreath, Cinder and Clinker all gazed up at the bonfire, their eyes bright with anticipation.
‘Another one - goodie!’ said Blaze. ‘But you know, Cinder and Clinker, I’m fairly sure St George didn’t have two heads.’
‘We only have two-headed clothes, Milord,’ said Cinder.
‘He’d have looked a bit silly wearing them with only one head,’ said Clinker.
‘Quite right - artistic licence,’ said Blaze. ‘I say, you chaps - Squire Flicker built a magnificent bonfire, didn’t he?’
‘Did he build this by himself?’ said Galahot, staring up at the towering structure. ‘And all in one evening? Egad, sir!’
Hotbreath belched, and his stream of fire licked the heads of Cinder and Clinker’s George.
‘Do be careful, Hotbreath - we mustn’t light the bonfire early!’ said Blaze.
‘It will be a magnificent sight, sir!’ said Galahot.
‘A towering inferno!’ said Hotbreath.
‘Oh dear,’ said Blaze. ‘I suppose I’d better have one more look for Puff. If she’s lost, she’ll miss the bonfire, and she won’t want that.’
He went back inside, while Galahot, Hotbreath, Cinder and Clinker all gazed up at the bonfire, their eyes bright with anticipation.
Not far from Camelhot, Count Geoffrey was standing at the top of a very tall ladder indeed. It was wobbling precariously, with nothing to lean against and only the three Evil Knights holding it upright. Merle was beside Geoffrey, floating on a cushion of magical energy.
‘More effigies!’ said Geoffrey. ‘How will you know which one to pick?’
Merle shrugged. ‘Eeny meeny miney mo? I may even have to use more than one - who knows? Let me worry about that, Geoff - just you and the boys be ready to come in and take over when we’re done.’
As she finished speaking, the voice of Evil Knight Number Three wafted up from the ground below. ‘What’s happening now, oh dread Count
Geoffrey?’
‘Nothing!’ Geoffrey called back irritably.
‘A dragon chef is coming out with a tray of snacks!’ Merle added.
‘What kind of snacks?’ asked Evil Knight Number One.
‘We can’t tell from here, you imbecile!’ yelled Geoffrey. ‘Just shut up and concentrate on holding that ladder.’ Then he looked at Merle, and asked, ‘Are you sure there’s no room for me on that cushion of magical energy?’
‘Sorry, Geoff,’ said Merle. ‘Wizard’s prerogative. Okay, the dragons are all coming out now - it’s time for me to split. See you after the slaughter.’
With that, she disappeared in a puff of smoke and a flash of lightning.
‘What do we do now, oh dread Count Geoffrey?’ called Evil Knight Number Two.
‘We prepare to march on Camelhot!’ declared Geoffrey. ‘Once Merle - not yet, you fools!’
But it was too late. The Evil Knights were running towards Camelhot, and Geoffrey was plummeting to the ground with a cry of anguish.
‘It’s my own fault,’ he said, rising tentatively to his feet and rubbing his bruised backside. ‘I never seem to learn.’
‘More effigies!’ said Geoffrey. ‘How will you know which one to pick?’
Merle shrugged. ‘Eeny meeny miney mo? I may even have to use more than one - who knows? Let me worry about that, Geoff - just you and the boys be ready to come in and take over when we’re done.’
As she finished speaking, the voice of Evil Knight Number Three wafted up from the ground below. ‘What’s happening now, oh dread Count
Geoffrey?’
‘Nothing!’ Geoffrey called back irritably.
‘A dragon chef is coming out with a tray of snacks!’ Merle added.
‘What kind of snacks?’ asked Evil Knight Number One.
‘We can’t tell from here, you imbecile!’ yelled Geoffrey. ‘Just shut up and concentrate on holding that ladder.’ Then he looked at Merle, and asked, ‘Are you sure there’s no room for me on that cushion of magical energy?’
‘Sorry, Geoff,’ said Merle. ‘Wizard’s prerogative. Okay, the dragons are all coming out now - it’s time for me to split. See you after the slaughter.’
With that, she disappeared in a puff of smoke and a flash of lightning.
‘What do we do now, oh dread Count Geoffrey?’ called Evil Knight Number Two.
‘We prepare to march on Camelhot!’ declared Geoffrey. ‘Once Merle - not yet, you fools!’
But it was too late. The Evil Knights were running towards Camelhot, and Geoffrey was plummeting to the ground with a cry of anguish.
‘It’s my own fault,’ he said, rising tentatively to his feet and rubbing his bruised backside. ‘I never seem to learn.’
Princess Flame was the last to join the dragons around the bonfire. She finally appeared leading Puff by the hand. Blaze, standing by Queen Griddle and King Allfire, looked relieved when he saw them. The other four knights stood close together, with Flicker nearby. Cinder and Clinker stayed near their two-headed George, while Chef Turnspit was busy arranging his coffee-apples on a trestle table.
‘Ah, there you are, Puff!’ said Allfire. ‘And, er… who’s this?’
‘A waif,’ said Flame. ‘Her name’s Puff.’
‘Is it?’ said Allfire. ‘That could get confusing. Well then, let the celebrations begin! Who is to tell us the story of the Dragon and St George?’
‘May I, Your Majesty?’ said Puff.
All eyes turned to the little girl. For a moment, there was silence. Then Flame said, ‘I think that’s a splendid idea.’
‘Yes, quite,’ said Allfire. ‘Why on earth not? If you feel you know the story well enough, young lady.’
‘I do,’ said Puff. ‘I know it very well. Sit down, and I shall begin.’
All of the dragons sat on the ground around the bonfire, while Puff let go of Flame’s hand and flew to the top. She sat on a flat piece of wood, far above all the other dragons and all of the Georges.
Sir Burnevere leaned towards Flicker, and said quietly, ‘She looks mighty serious, doesn’t she? Not how a bairn ought to look on St George’s Day.’
‘Not at all,’ said Flicker. ‘Where’s the look of wonder in her saucer-like eyes?’
‘A long time ago,’ said Puff, ‘there was a little dragon girl, and one day, she had a human friend round to tea. Unfortunately they were living in rather bigoted times, so the humans all thought the dragon girl had captured the human girl to eat her, and a random man called George decided to go and kill the dragon. The little dragon girl tried to explain, but George didn’t listen - he just stabbed her with a stinking great sword, so she had to roast him alive. George and the Dragon killed each other in the same moment, and since then, their fates have been bound together in eternity. Where one of
their spirits reawakens, the other must meet it.’
She finished there, and was met with silence. Then King Allfire said, ‘Well, that wasn’t quite the version we go in for, but it was most - blazing dragons!’
Everyone followed the King’s astonished gaze, and saw that one of the Georges - the one made by Flame and Griddle - was getting to its feet.
‘What is this?’ it said, from a crease in its pillowcase head. ‘Where am I? Odds bodkins - I am surrounded by dragons! Away, vile fiends!’
All of the dragons leapt to their feet, and those closest - Flame, Blaze, Allfire and Griddle - shot streams of fire at the George. Nothing happened.
‘I say, ladies,’ said Allfire. ‘You didn’t make your George fire retardant, did you?’
‘Oh, don’t be stupid, Allfire!’ snapped Griddle.
‘It’s part of the enchantment,’ said Flame, pointing at something on top of a high wall. ‘Look there!’
‘Hey, Georgie!’ called Merle. She was standing high above them all, in the path of Flame’s pointing finger. ‘Here’s your sword!’
She snapped her fingers and a long, shiny sword appeared in George’s hand.
‘Merle the Wizard?’ said George. He waved up at her. ‘What ho! Long time no see!’
‘My knights!’ yelled King Allfire. ‘Arm yourselves! Protect the child! Protect the women!’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ said Flame. She ran over to the knights, and said, ‘Can I please borrow a sword or something?’
‘Get behind me, Your Highness!’ cried Sir Galahot, throwing Flame behind his back. Then he and the other knights ran in to attack - all except for Sir Loungelot, who stood staring at the living effigy in blank amazement.
‘Flicker!’ said Flame, grabbing Flicker’s arm with both hands. ‘Where’s Puff?’
‘I… I don’t know!’ said Flicker, looking wildly around him, and between the clashing broadswords. All four dragon knights were fighting George, but already he seemed to be overpowering them.
‘Blazing dragons, but he’s powerful!’ said Flame. ‘I’ll fetch Excaliburn.’
‘Good thinking,’ said Flicker. ‘I’ll try and find Puff.’
He flew to the top of the bonfire while Flame ran inside the castle. There was no sign of Puff. Flicker looked down at where the knights were fighting the effigy. They managed to stab him two or three times, but to no avail; losing a little bit of stuffing didn’t seem to bother George at all. For a moment Flicker hovered and looked on, horror-struck, wondering whether he should try and help them and what he could possibly do. Then he saw Puff. She
was sitting up on a balcony, opposite Merle, gazing wide-eyed at the scene below her.
‘There are her saucer-like eyes,’ Flicker muttered, as he flew across the courtyard to hover in front of her. ‘Are you all right, Puff? Perhaps you should go inside.’
‘Don’t be silly, Flicker,’ said Puff. ‘Haven’t you worked out who I am yet? I really need to stay here. I’m just trying to work out what I can do about all this.’
‘Oh no!’ said Flicker, seeing that Blaze, Galahot, Burnevere and Hotbreath had all been disarmed, and their swords stuffed down George’s trousers. ‘I’d better get down there and see if I can -’
‘Get away from them, you… you jumped-up scarecrow!’
Flame had run back out into the courtyard, brandishing both Excaliburn and a fierce expression. On hearing her voice, George turned to face her, and raised his own sword. Flame ducked his blow, then sliced through the effigy’s legs. It fell to the ground, where it writhed helplessly like a fish on a ship’s deck.
‘Get in!’ said Flame.
‘No problem,’ said Merle, attracting the attention of Flicker and Puff. She did something with her hands, and a moment later another George was attacking, his sword now transferred to his new woollen hand. Not only that, Flicker noticed, but the dragon knights’ broadswords had been transferred to him as well.
‘Oh no!’ said Flicker. ‘That’s our George!’
‘Never mind,’ said Puff. ‘She’s got plenty to choose from - I’m sure ours being there doesn’t make any difference.’
‘Flame, for goodness’ sake!’ Allfire’s voice reached them from the ground below. ‘Give me that sword!’
‘I’m using it at the moment, Daddy!’
‘That’s Merle the Wizard, isn’t it?’ said Puff.
‘Yes,’ said Flicker, wincing as Flame narrowly avoided a violent stab to the stomach. ‘Do you know her?’
‘Just a little,’ said Puff, ‘from the old neighbourhood. She seems to have got more powerful since I last saw her.’
‘We need to try and do something about her,’ said Flicker. ‘Flame can’t hold off those Georges forever. No one can. We need to cut the puppet strings.’
‘Cut the puppet strings…’
Looking pensive, Puff hopped off the balcony and placed herself in midair, somewhere between Merle and the attacking George. She felt around with one hand, then beckoned Flicker over. He flew to join her.
‘It’s here,’ said Puff, very quietly, so that Merle wouldn’t hear. ‘There’s a cord or something connecting them… I can feel it. We can literally cut the puppet strings!’
‘Can we?’ said Flicker. ‘Surely it would take more than an ordinary sword… oh, well - I suppose if anyone can do it, we can. My Liege!’ he called. ‘With your permission, we need Excaliburn up here!’
‘I’m using it!’ Flame said irritably, as she parried another blow from George.
‘For shame, sirs!’ cried Galahot. ‘All this sorcery must have addled our brains! Why are we letting our beloved princess fight this vile creature alone?’
‘Because we’ve lost our swords and she’s got Excaliburn,’ said Hotbreath.
‘Oh, tish and pish,’ said Blaze. ‘Galahot’s right - we have to help her!’
‘Only trouble is,’ said Burnevere, ‘he’s got our swords stuffed down his trousers.’
‘Loungelot!’ called Galahot. ‘You must aid the Princess, sir!’
‘Oh… right,’ said Loungelot. He took some tentative steps towards George, then drew his sword. ‘Sir! You will step away from the Princess.’
George turned on him at once and, with a single swipe of his sword, he had disarmed the last dragon knight. Loungelot shrieked, and ran to a
position of safety behind the other knights.
‘Pathetic, sir,’ said Galahot.
Flame, meanwhile, had lost no time in flying Excaliburn up to Flicker. He took the sword from her, then turned to Puff, and said, ‘Where?’
Puff balled her fist tightly, and gave a tug on the invisible cord. ‘Here!’
Flicker raised the sword above his head, then sliced through the air, close to Puff’s clenched fist. For a moment, it wasn’t clear whether he had actually done anything. Then Merle’s cry of ‘Rats!’ confirmed that he had. Flame looked up at her.
‘She’s doing something up there,’ said Flame. ‘I think she’s starting again.’
‘Not if I have anything to do with it,’ said Puff. She was now horizontal in the air, her eyes on the collapsed George. ‘I’ve got to go now, but before I do, I want to thank you for - oops, too late! Bye now!’
She swooped down just as a ball of light began to rise from the bundle of clothing, her arms held out. When she reached the George, Puff enveloped the light in her arms, and both dragon and saint disappeared.
‘Ah, there you are, Puff!’ said Allfire. ‘And, er… who’s this?’
‘A waif,’ said Flame. ‘Her name’s Puff.’
‘Is it?’ said Allfire. ‘That could get confusing. Well then, let the celebrations begin! Who is to tell us the story of the Dragon and St George?’
‘May I, Your Majesty?’ said Puff.
All eyes turned to the little girl. For a moment, there was silence. Then Flame said, ‘I think that’s a splendid idea.’
‘Yes, quite,’ said Allfire. ‘Why on earth not? If you feel you know the story well enough, young lady.’
‘I do,’ said Puff. ‘I know it very well. Sit down, and I shall begin.’
All of the dragons sat on the ground around the bonfire, while Puff let go of Flame’s hand and flew to the top. She sat on a flat piece of wood, far above all the other dragons and all of the Georges.
Sir Burnevere leaned towards Flicker, and said quietly, ‘She looks mighty serious, doesn’t she? Not how a bairn ought to look on St George’s Day.’
‘Not at all,’ said Flicker. ‘Where’s the look of wonder in her saucer-like eyes?’
‘A long time ago,’ said Puff, ‘there was a little dragon girl, and one day, she had a human friend round to tea. Unfortunately they were living in rather bigoted times, so the humans all thought the dragon girl had captured the human girl to eat her, and a random man called George decided to go and kill the dragon. The little dragon girl tried to explain, but George didn’t listen - he just stabbed her with a stinking great sword, so she had to roast him alive. George and the Dragon killed each other in the same moment, and since then, their fates have been bound together in eternity. Where one of
their spirits reawakens, the other must meet it.’
She finished there, and was met with silence. Then King Allfire said, ‘Well, that wasn’t quite the version we go in for, but it was most - blazing dragons!’
Everyone followed the King’s astonished gaze, and saw that one of the Georges - the one made by Flame and Griddle - was getting to its feet.
‘What is this?’ it said, from a crease in its pillowcase head. ‘Where am I? Odds bodkins - I am surrounded by dragons! Away, vile fiends!’
All of the dragons leapt to their feet, and those closest - Flame, Blaze, Allfire and Griddle - shot streams of fire at the George. Nothing happened.
‘I say, ladies,’ said Allfire. ‘You didn’t make your George fire retardant, did you?’
‘Oh, don’t be stupid, Allfire!’ snapped Griddle.
‘It’s part of the enchantment,’ said Flame, pointing at something on top of a high wall. ‘Look there!’
‘Hey, Georgie!’ called Merle. She was standing high above them all, in the path of Flame’s pointing finger. ‘Here’s your sword!’
She snapped her fingers and a long, shiny sword appeared in George’s hand.
‘Merle the Wizard?’ said George. He waved up at her. ‘What ho! Long time no see!’
‘My knights!’ yelled King Allfire. ‘Arm yourselves! Protect the child! Protect the women!’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ said Flame. She ran over to the knights, and said, ‘Can I please borrow a sword or something?’
‘Get behind me, Your Highness!’ cried Sir Galahot, throwing Flame behind his back. Then he and the other knights ran in to attack - all except for Sir Loungelot, who stood staring at the living effigy in blank amazement.
‘Flicker!’ said Flame, grabbing Flicker’s arm with both hands. ‘Where’s Puff?’
‘I… I don’t know!’ said Flicker, looking wildly around him, and between the clashing broadswords. All four dragon knights were fighting George, but already he seemed to be overpowering them.
‘Blazing dragons, but he’s powerful!’ said Flame. ‘I’ll fetch Excaliburn.’
‘Good thinking,’ said Flicker. ‘I’ll try and find Puff.’
He flew to the top of the bonfire while Flame ran inside the castle. There was no sign of Puff. Flicker looked down at where the knights were fighting the effigy. They managed to stab him two or three times, but to no avail; losing a little bit of stuffing didn’t seem to bother George at all. For a moment Flicker hovered and looked on, horror-struck, wondering whether he should try and help them and what he could possibly do. Then he saw Puff. She
was sitting up on a balcony, opposite Merle, gazing wide-eyed at the scene below her.
‘There are her saucer-like eyes,’ Flicker muttered, as he flew across the courtyard to hover in front of her. ‘Are you all right, Puff? Perhaps you should go inside.’
‘Don’t be silly, Flicker,’ said Puff. ‘Haven’t you worked out who I am yet? I really need to stay here. I’m just trying to work out what I can do about all this.’
‘Oh no!’ said Flicker, seeing that Blaze, Galahot, Burnevere and Hotbreath had all been disarmed, and their swords stuffed down George’s trousers. ‘I’d better get down there and see if I can -’
‘Get away from them, you… you jumped-up scarecrow!’
Flame had run back out into the courtyard, brandishing both Excaliburn and a fierce expression. On hearing her voice, George turned to face her, and raised his own sword. Flame ducked his blow, then sliced through the effigy’s legs. It fell to the ground, where it writhed helplessly like a fish on a ship’s deck.
‘Get in!’ said Flame.
‘No problem,’ said Merle, attracting the attention of Flicker and Puff. She did something with her hands, and a moment later another George was attacking, his sword now transferred to his new woollen hand. Not only that, Flicker noticed, but the dragon knights’ broadswords had been transferred to him as well.
‘Oh no!’ said Flicker. ‘That’s our George!’
‘Never mind,’ said Puff. ‘She’s got plenty to choose from - I’m sure ours being there doesn’t make any difference.’
‘Flame, for goodness’ sake!’ Allfire’s voice reached them from the ground below. ‘Give me that sword!’
‘I’m using it at the moment, Daddy!’
‘That’s Merle the Wizard, isn’t it?’ said Puff.
‘Yes,’ said Flicker, wincing as Flame narrowly avoided a violent stab to the stomach. ‘Do you know her?’
‘Just a little,’ said Puff, ‘from the old neighbourhood. She seems to have got more powerful since I last saw her.’
‘We need to try and do something about her,’ said Flicker. ‘Flame can’t hold off those Georges forever. No one can. We need to cut the puppet strings.’
‘Cut the puppet strings…’
Looking pensive, Puff hopped off the balcony and placed herself in midair, somewhere between Merle and the attacking George. She felt around with one hand, then beckoned Flicker over. He flew to join her.
‘It’s here,’ said Puff, very quietly, so that Merle wouldn’t hear. ‘There’s a cord or something connecting them… I can feel it. We can literally cut the puppet strings!’
‘Can we?’ said Flicker. ‘Surely it would take more than an ordinary sword… oh, well - I suppose if anyone can do it, we can. My Liege!’ he called. ‘With your permission, we need Excaliburn up here!’
‘I’m using it!’ Flame said irritably, as she parried another blow from George.
‘For shame, sirs!’ cried Galahot. ‘All this sorcery must have addled our brains! Why are we letting our beloved princess fight this vile creature alone?’
‘Because we’ve lost our swords and she’s got Excaliburn,’ said Hotbreath.
‘Oh, tish and pish,’ said Blaze. ‘Galahot’s right - we have to help her!’
‘Only trouble is,’ said Burnevere, ‘he’s got our swords stuffed down his trousers.’
‘Loungelot!’ called Galahot. ‘You must aid the Princess, sir!’
‘Oh… right,’ said Loungelot. He took some tentative steps towards George, then drew his sword. ‘Sir! You will step away from the Princess.’
George turned on him at once and, with a single swipe of his sword, he had disarmed the last dragon knight. Loungelot shrieked, and ran to a
position of safety behind the other knights.
‘Pathetic, sir,’ said Galahot.
Flame, meanwhile, had lost no time in flying Excaliburn up to Flicker. He took the sword from her, then turned to Puff, and said, ‘Where?’
Puff balled her fist tightly, and gave a tug on the invisible cord. ‘Here!’
Flicker raised the sword above his head, then sliced through the air, close to Puff’s clenched fist. For a moment, it wasn’t clear whether he had actually done anything. Then Merle’s cry of ‘Rats!’ confirmed that he had. Flame looked up at her.
‘She’s doing something up there,’ said Flame. ‘I think she’s starting again.’
‘Not if I have anything to do with it,’ said Puff. She was now horizontal in the air, her eyes on the collapsed George. ‘I’ve got to go now, but before I do, I want to thank you for - oops, too late! Bye now!’
She swooped down just as a ball of light began to rise from the bundle of clothing, her arms held out. When she reached the George, Puff enveloped the light in her arms, and both dragon and saint disappeared.
Count Geoffrey and his Evil Knights were waiting outside the drawbridge.
‘How much longer, dread Count Geoffrey?’ asked Evil Knight Number One.
‘I don’t know!’ snapped Geoffrey.
‘Maybe we should have tried to reawaken the spirit of St Michael after all,’ said Evil Knight Number Three.
‘Shut up!’ said Geoffrey, just as Merle appeared in a puff of smoke and lightning. He turned to her. ‘Well?’
‘Didn’t work,’ she said.
‘What?’ cried Geoffrey. ‘Why on earth not, you incompetent old crone?’
‘Because those dragons have a magic sword, okay? Give me a break!’ With that, Merle disappeared as suddenly as she had arrived.
‘Well,’ said Geoffrey, ‘I guess that’s it, then. Back to Castle Threadbare.’ He puffed out his chest, raised his shoulders and then, quite suddenly, he seemed to deflate. ‘I can’t believe this! Why do my plans always fail?’
‘This plan only failed because of Merle’s magic,’ said Evil Knight Number Two.
‘Yeah,’ said Evil Knight Number Three. ‘Maybe Merle’s the problem.’
‘Hmm… good point,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Maybe I’ll have to come up with an evil plan or two that we won’t need magic for. All right, boys, let’s go home.’
The quartet turned and made their way, slumped and dejected, across the darkened landscape.
‘How much longer, dread Count Geoffrey?’ asked Evil Knight Number One.
‘I don’t know!’ snapped Geoffrey.
‘Maybe we should have tried to reawaken the spirit of St Michael after all,’ said Evil Knight Number Three.
‘Shut up!’ said Geoffrey, just as Merle appeared in a puff of smoke and lightning. He turned to her. ‘Well?’
‘Didn’t work,’ she said.
‘What?’ cried Geoffrey. ‘Why on earth not, you incompetent old crone?’
‘Because those dragons have a magic sword, okay? Give me a break!’ With that, Merle disappeared as suddenly as she had arrived.
‘Well,’ said Geoffrey, ‘I guess that’s it, then. Back to Castle Threadbare.’ He puffed out his chest, raised his shoulders and then, quite suddenly, he seemed to deflate. ‘I can’t believe this! Why do my plans always fail?’
‘This plan only failed because of Merle’s magic,’ said Evil Knight Number Two.
‘Yeah,’ said Evil Knight Number Three. ‘Maybe Merle’s the problem.’
‘Hmm… good point,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Maybe I’ll have to come up with an evil plan or two that we won’t need magic for. All right, boys, let’s go home.’
The quartet turned and made their way, slumped and dejected, across the darkened landscape.
After the disappearance of George and the Dragon, the party was soon underway again. Once the bonfire was lit, and every dragon present was
tucking into a coffee-apple, King Allfire went around congratulating everyone on their contribution.
‘We didn’t really do anything,’ said Clinker, when the King had given thanks to him and Cinder.
‘You maintained calm,’ said Allfire. ‘I could not have asked you for anything more.’
‘Thank you, Your Majesty,’ said Cinder.
‘Nice George, by the way,’ Allfire added.
Cinder’s smile widened. ‘Thank you very much, Your Majesty!’
To Sir Loungelot, Allfire said, ‘Er… good try, Loungelot.’
Loungelot looked most displeased with this. Flicker and Flame, meanwhile, were watching the bonfire together and discussing the day’s events.
‘I bet she wanted to thank us for the way that we always honour her with our bonfire and our storytelling and our coffee-apples,’ said Flicker. ‘It’s odd, isn’t it? I don’t suppose anyone ever thinks of the Dragon as being a little girl.’
‘It’s obvious now we know who she was,’ said Flame, ‘but I must say, I didn’t call that. I got caught up in other ideas, what with her name being Puff and everything… but she wasn’t really connected to me after all.’
‘She’s connected to all of us, Flame,’ said Flicker. ‘To all true dragons, everywhere.’
‘Of course. We’re all very honoured to have met her. It’s just that… well, with how much I’ve been thinking lately about… things…’
‘We shouldn’t talk too much about things, Your Highness.’
‘I don’t think I’m talking too much,’ said Flame. ‘Just let me say this. I had a lot of fun making the George with you and Puff… and Blaze, when he turned up. I hope we’ll be able to do that again one day. You know… when there are children here.’
Flicker looked at her, unsure of what to say, and he hadn’t time to think of anything before King Allfire appeared between them with a smile on his face and a coffee-apple in his hand.
‘Good work this evening, squire,’ he said, ‘as usual.’
‘Thank you, Your Majesty,’ said Flicker.
‘And you, Puff, fighting that George with a big heavy sword like Excaliburn! I didn’t know you had it in you. Good thinking too, going to fetch it in the first place. We really couldn’t have done without it.’
Allfire gave both of them a touch on the arm, and then went back to join the main body of the party. Flicker and Flame exchanged a smile. Then they turned their faces back to the bonfire and watched it burn.
tucking into a coffee-apple, King Allfire went around congratulating everyone on their contribution.
‘We didn’t really do anything,’ said Clinker, when the King had given thanks to him and Cinder.
‘You maintained calm,’ said Allfire. ‘I could not have asked you for anything more.’
‘Thank you, Your Majesty,’ said Cinder.
‘Nice George, by the way,’ Allfire added.
Cinder’s smile widened. ‘Thank you very much, Your Majesty!’
To Sir Loungelot, Allfire said, ‘Er… good try, Loungelot.’
Loungelot looked most displeased with this. Flicker and Flame, meanwhile, were watching the bonfire together and discussing the day’s events.
‘I bet she wanted to thank us for the way that we always honour her with our bonfire and our storytelling and our coffee-apples,’ said Flicker. ‘It’s odd, isn’t it? I don’t suppose anyone ever thinks of the Dragon as being a little girl.’
‘It’s obvious now we know who she was,’ said Flame, ‘but I must say, I didn’t call that. I got caught up in other ideas, what with her name being Puff and everything… but she wasn’t really connected to me after all.’
‘She’s connected to all of us, Flame,’ said Flicker. ‘To all true dragons, everywhere.’
‘Of course. We’re all very honoured to have met her. It’s just that… well, with how much I’ve been thinking lately about… things…’
‘We shouldn’t talk too much about things, Your Highness.’
‘I don’t think I’m talking too much,’ said Flame. ‘Just let me say this. I had a lot of fun making the George with you and Puff… and Blaze, when he turned up. I hope we’ll be able to do that again one day. You know… when there are children here.’
Flicker looked at her, unsure of what to say, and he hadn’t time to think of anything before King Allfire appeared between them with a smile on his face and a coffee-apple in his hand.
‘Good work this evening, squire,’ he said, ‘as usual.’
‘Thank you, Your Majesty,’ said Flicker.
‘And you, Puff, fighting that George with a big heavy sword like Excaliburn! I didn’t know you had it in you. Good thinking too, going to fetch it in the first place. We really couldn’t have done without it.’
Allfire gave both of them a touch on the arm, and then went back to join the main body of the party. Flicker and Flame exchanged a smile. Then they turned their faces back to the bonfire and watched it burn.
Written by Rosey Collins