Paying the Toll
By: Matt Carroll
He wasn’t thinking about fishing poles or queens as he walked.
His chain mail bounced against his armor. His specialty was once archery, but he preferred the sword these days. His bow lay over his shoulder, the quiver behind him, and the sword sheathed.
The tall oak trees outlined the dirt path he walked. The smell of the fresh daisies along the roadside was refreshing in the cool autumn breeze. His armor was dark blue and reflected the sun. White clouds scattered across the sky.
He was part of the 13th Regiment and he was recently discharged. The terms of his discharge were of honor, not dishonor, and war was simply not an option these days. In times of peace a warrior was free to roam the world as he pleased until another conflict called for his skill and profession. He was a lifetime warrior, but he had other skills. He could read and he could write.
He pulled a small pocketbook from his side-sack and continued forward. The book was of poems he had written over the years as well as ones he copied down to read on his own. He wasn’t much of a scholar compared to the church’s standards, but he was good enough to carry out his hobby with pleasure. He began to read some of his old writings as well as some of the poems and words he’d copied from others over the years.
He was unsure of where he was going or where he was meant to be, but the path was comforting. As he stared down at the words written down in his book he heard running water ahead and thought about how refreshing it would be to sip on the cold spring water.
The man looked up from his book when he heard the roar of the river only to see something peculiar.
The warrior put his book back into his side sack and unsheathed his sword, but he was unsure if this was a threat he looked at, so he left his shining sword dangling from his fingertips at his side.
There was a long wooden bridge that lead to the greener grass on the other side, the grass the man wished to go to, but the bridge’s entrance was blocked by a large dragon.
As far as the man was concerned the dragon was the most ridiculous there could ever be, although he’d never seen a dragon before this moment. The dragon was fat, severely obese, as far as the man knew. The bright green dragon’s stomach spanned the entire bridge’s entrance. The dragon had a long and skinny neck that stood upright on his large body. His arms were long and dangling, his legs stretched out in front of him as he sat on his bottom facing the road that led to the bridge. He expected the dragon to be savage like the ones he read about in books, or the type of dragon he imagined when his ancestors told great stories of knights like he hoped to be someday. Instead this dragon was reading a book while wearing glasses.
The dragon used his index finger to follow where he was reading, but he did notice the warrior occasionally looking up from his reading as the man came closer and closer to the blocked bridge entrance. Finally the dragon finished, laughing to himself at the completion of the book, which the man had to think was a great ending to make the dragon giggle, and finally the dragon slammed the book shut and set it to the side.
“Good morning!” The dragon said in a great booming voice that made the ground shake beneath the knight’s boots.
“Hello. . .dragon?”
“Please, call me Harold.” The dragon insisted.
“Hello. . .Harold. I was wondering if it was at all possible to cross this bridge to the greener side?” The man asked. The knight kept a distance that was good enough to not get scorched by the dragon in case he was a fire breather. The knight was timid. He knew better than to wake sleeping giants with threats.
“Of course you can.” The dragon laughed and the ground shook. “But, first, there are a few things you must understand. First, I will not harm you unless you try to cross the bridge without the proper clearance. I will not harm you as long as you are true. Second, you must answer a few questions before you cross the bridge. These are common questions many people have the wrong answers to, but you look smart enough, so answer from your heart.”
“Fair enough Harold.” The knight sheathed his sword and came closer to the dragon. Harold was a gentleman and the knight trusted him.
From the woods nearby there was a scream that startled the knight, the glasses wearing dragon named Harold watched as the screaming man charged the bridge entrance, and when the screaming man got closer there was a grumble inside Harold. He let out a scream as fire came from his nostrils and mouth incinerating the screaming man on sight and turning him into a pile of ashes in front of the bridge.
The knight was unharmed, but shocked at the sight. The screaming man was a dead pile of ash.
“Should we begin?” Harold asked. The knight simply nodded his head. “Okay.” Harold adjusted his glasses and pulled a journal from the side where a stack of books lay. “First question: if you were stranded on a topical island what three items would you bring and why?” Harold asked.
“Um. . .” The knight thought about a true answer from the bottom of his heart. “First I would bring a fishing pole to catch fish in the water. A man can survive as long as he uses his resources. I would also get a large barrel so when it rained I could catch water to drink. Finally, I would bring an axe because it’s a valuable raft making tool.”
“Good answer.” Harold smiled. “Second question: if you were named king for a day name two things you would do.”
“Um. . .” The knight wanted to continue the sincerity in his answers. “First I would take care of the poor because they are the legs of the table the kingdom stands on. Then, I suppose I would have to find a queen that would stifle my pigheadedness.”
The dragon huffed. “Good enough.” Harold searched his book for the third question. The knight was sweating. He trusted Harold, but the pile of ash still scared him. “Third and final question: how much wood could a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”
The knight’s eyes grew wide.
“Well, I suppose if the woodchuck used wood as a viable source of nutrients he would chuck the wood until he was satisfied, if not then he probably wouldn’t chuck wood unless necessary.”
The dragon nodded his head.
“You may pass.” The dragon insisted.
The knight did stare at the greener grass on the other side.
“Thank you kind dragon Harold, but I think I’d rather stay here now.” He and the dragon both laughed.
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