[ WP ] ... and that 's why it 's a really really really bad idea to refuse giving the hero who saved your kingdom his reward .

`` Say again, I think I misheard you, *friend*.'' 
 
 `` I said Sir -'' 
 
 `` Lancealittle, it's Sir fucking Lancealittle! I did just slay the fucking dragon, the least you could do is remember my god forsaken name...'' 
 
 `` Yes, as I was saying, Sir Lancealittle, we will not - simply can not, pay you five thousand gold coins for slaying the dragon -'' 
 
 `` The five thousand gold coins **that were offered** for slaying the dragon!'' 
 
 `` Yes, Sir, the five thousand that were offered, I know well and good how much was offered - I paid the criers, the bards, and the raven keepers myself to spread the word. You see, it's just that no one in their right mind will slay a dragon for less than four thousand gold coins! We could n't very well just pay fealty to the dragon, we hardly have - `` 
 
 `` Pay fealty?!'' 
 
 `` Yes, the dragon told us he would tax us at 50 % or burn our fair hamlet to ash!'' 
 
 `` He told you?!'' 
 
 `` Why, yes Sir, told us 50 % or death and ashes!'' 
 
 `` I slew and intelligent fucking dragon, a creature not heard of for half a hundred years, possibly the last of his kind... for free?! You have got to be fucking kidding me. I swear on his magnificent dragon cock, if you do n't start pulling coins out of your arse I'm going to start slaying fucking people, you stupid son of a whore!'' 
 
 By now, the balding priest was growing considerably red in the face - as a man of the cloth he was used to being treated with great respect, and this upstart knight was making him feel rather foolish. 
 
 Lancealittle was all in a bluster, face redder than apples himself and nearly panting. He never was a skinny Knight, and being out of practice for a time hand n't done him any favors. As his Ma was fond of saying, his blood was fit to boil. 
 
 `` Sir, sir! You sha n't talk to me like that, I am a clergyman!'' 
 
 `` You're a cheap scoundrel son of a corner whore is what you are. Lying scum not fit to polish my cock like your mother woud've - let alone my armor! If you have n't got the five thousand, how many gold pieces *do* you have?'' 
 
 `` To be quite honest sir, a lie is a sin for the seven hells Krull forgive me, we have n't got any pieces at all...'' 
 
 Sir Lancealittle gave an exasperated sigh - first a dead squire at the hands of a dragon, and now no pay. Does it ever end? 
 
 `` I would ask a boon of you, priest.'' 
 
 `` I will do whatever I can Sir knight, you have done us well and Krull curse me if I do n't try to do right by you. We've no proper whores if that's what you're after, but some of our servings girls used to ply the trade...'' 
 
 `` Nay, not whores, but drink, and a mightly container to put it in. One barrell, half full of your purest alcohol, and your sharpest, hardiest wood axe, if it please you.'' 
 
 Though he did n't look it, he was deadly sharp - sharper than any wood axe that fool priest would bring him. 
 
 By nightfll, Lancealittle had seen hide nor hair of the priest and wearily began to make camp. He set up a ramshackle tent, and coaxed a small fire from the piss elm twigs he found along the path. He threw a hunk of salted rabbit meat, maybe squirrel - he could n't remember and the last of his herb pouch in his small pot on the fire, setting a square, okay a few squares - what a knight likes his bread, next to the coals to warm when he saw someone approaching in the distance. One body, a horse, moving slowly. He drew his sword, tired of this shit and just wanting to bed down for the night. 
 
 Lancealittle was relieved to see it was, but an aging crone with a cask of alcohol towed behind her in a makeshift cart. He was n't relieved to see a babe hardly off the teat riding in front of her though. 
 
 `` Aye madam, priest has you doing his dirty work?'' 
 
 `` Nay, Sir knight, I asked him if I could deliver your pay meself. See, we of Summerhill are mighty greatful and we'd be struck dead if we did n't try to show it. You asked your boon of the priest, and he done his best to make good, but the small folk wanted to thank you in our own way. I brung my daughter, Lily. She's young yet, but fiery bright, and she'd make a good squire I think. I know it is n't an even match, but a life for a life Sir. Us, the smallfolk I mean, we're right sorry your boy was burned. He was nice and we were glad to know him, even if just for a short while. I know Father Eustace done you a turn, but we'd like to do by right by you and the boy, Krull rest his soul.'' 
 
 With that, she unhitched the cart and rolled the barrel off it and then handed me axe and babe in the same breath. 
 
 `` Please, Sir. You can give her a better life than I and she's right smart.'' 
 
 `` Aye, yes, I'll take the lot. Thank you.'' 
 
 Lacealittle was angry, frustrated, sick to death of this piss ant hamlet and their lack of pay, but he was a good man at heart and he could n't bring himself to turn down a good person trying to do a good thing. She was well right, Cuthbert was a good boy, a good squire and he did n't deserve to die for such a shithole as Summerhill. He would take this woman's daughter and make a squire of her, Krull be damned. 
 
 As the sun settled and the old woman rode off, Lancealittle began to hack at the corpse of the dragon. He knew a necromancer who could do amazing things if given the right organs... 
 
 -- - 
 
 If you're interested in reading more about my Lancealittle, I wrote this as an impomptu prequel to a previous prompt about him that you can read [ here. ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2brflt/wp_take_a_plot_trope_cliché_or_story_element_that/cj893wf ) 
 

