Short Story Spotlight: Alfonso and the Duke

Written originally for my Reedsy.com blog, Alfonso and the Duke is a fun, fantastical tale of a demon tempting a knight to act against his principles...or is it?

This story was written in response to the following prompt:

Write a story about a warrior who doesn’t want to kill the dragon.

And, without further ado...

Alfonso and the Duke

The duke surveyed the dragon atop its perch, staring unblinkingly as it always did at some unknowable goal on the distant horizon.

"Something must be done about it," Alfonso hissed into the duke's ear.

The duke considered the sly spirit's words. It was true that he had not hitherto considered the dragon to be a threat to his little corner of the world, protect it as he did with all his might. After all, the dragon had merely sat upon its mountaintop, unreachable, concerned only with its own thoughts and never once impinging on the wellbeing of those the duke cared for most. But now, looking at it in the morning sunlight, the rays reflecting off its unnatural glassy scales, the duke began to understand Alfonso's position.

The duke had been down this path before. Alfonso was not a spirit that could be trusted. Yes, like Caspian and Leonidas, Alfonso was Of the Realm, and therefore automatically under the duke's protection. Unlike Caspian and Leonidas, who were calmer, older spirits who trod lightly and worked for the betterment of the God, Alfonso was always on the cusp of bringing anger down on them all, caring not who he hurt in the process.

But that dragon. . . there was something about it's stance, poised always ready to leap, behaving as if it knew of things outside the realm of natural comprehension but of which it did not see fit to speak. What was it planning? What was it's purpose, its goals?

Did it mean to harm the God?

"Silence is always suspicious in these parts," hissed Alfonso, and the duke found himself nodding in agreement. It was, after all, something that the God said often, and the God's words were always right.

A single swipe would--

No.

The duke would be strong. Alfonso wove lies and lived in mischievousness and deceit. The duke would not succumb this time.

"Do it yourself, if its so important," the duke growled. Alfonso was capable of the same feats, if not greater, than the duke himself. If the dragon was a bother, the spirit could deal with it.

"I would like nothing better than to wipe that beast from the face of the earth," Alfonso hissed darkly. "But alas, I cannot--my recent forays into the Land of Countertop have left me. . .diminished. I come to you, my Dear Duke, for assistance during my infirmity."

Dear Duke. The God's words, again. Sometimes the duke thought that Alfonso knew the god better than any of them.

"The God warned against visiting that land," said the duke severely. "Time and time again they warned, and time and time again you visited. The calamity you befall there is entirely of your own making."

"Silence!" said Alfonso. "The God, in her infinite wisdom, has already seen fit to forgive me that transgression, and I am, of course, suitably contrite."

The duke snorted. He very much doubted that. The moment Alfonso's wounds were fully healed, his forays into forbidden lands would continue, unabated. The duke knew full well that the God's temper had been lessened only due to Alfonso's distress--had the spirit survived unscathed, the God's wrath would not have abated nearly as quickly.

"What do you say, Duke?" Alfonso cajoled. "For the good of the kingdom?"

It was tempting. There was something pure about unleashing death and destruction upon those who deserved it, a glorious rush of righteousness that the duke did not often allow himself to feel.

But. . .

"I cannot," said the duke. The dragon was of the realm, which meant that, like Alfonso and Caspian and Leonidas, it fell under the duke's protection. Under the God's protection. It had to be left untouched.

"Oh, Duke," said Alfonso, shock and disappointment heavy on his lips. "I though that you, out of all of us, would be brave enough to face this, the greatest peril to ever visit out lands! A dragon, Duke. A dragon! Does not the God herself cower when these vicious beasts appear in the stories of which she is so fond?"

"The God does not cower," the duke growled.

"No, no, of course, you are right," Alfonso said, placatingly. "I misspoke. But you, Duke, always so perceptive, so ready to counter any danger or discomfort that the God is made to endure, do you not yourself, brave Duke, shout until the beasts retreat from the narrative, ignoring even the God's entreaties for calm?"

"They move," grumbled the duke. "The movement--it is unpredictable, unreliable, the God does not seem to understand. . ."

"Exactly, my dear friend, exactly! The God does not always comprehend the danger she is in, but you, dear Duke, never allow that to stop you from executing your most sacred duty: to protect the God and all that the God possesses."

"The movement. . ." the duke muttered again. Movement when there shouldn't be, it was always unsettling. And the dragon did look rather like the creatures that the God surveyed every evening after the sun had set. Perhaps. . .

"Are you nothing but bluster, Duke? Nothing but words?" Alfonso's face was close to the duke's now, yellow eyes staring directly into his soul.

The duke was quivering . His eyes fixed upon the dragon--all else faded into into insignificance.

Why not? Why shouldn't he rid the realm of a clearly evil force? The God would understand, the God would forgive.

"It's so close," Alfonso whispered. "It's a mere swipe away, dear friend."

The duke's muscles tensed involuntarily at the spirit's words.

"That's right," said Alfonso, encouragingly. "That's good. Careful now. You don't want it to see you coming. Good, good. . ."

As if in a trance, the duke obeyed Alfonso' words, approaching the dragon's perch slowly, careful not to attract its attention.

"Good, good," Alfonso's voice continued. "Careful now, careful. . .and . . .NOW!"

The duke leapt.

There was a moment of pure joy, the feeling of righteous justice being meted to a worthy adversary, the thrill of the chase, the hunt, the kill, and then. . .

Chaos.

The dragon tumbled to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces, and the duke knew, deep in his bones, that he has made a mistake.

"Curse you, Alfonso!" the duke growled as he darted for the safety of Sofa.

Alfonso merely laughed and returned to the comfort of his cushioned bed, settling to watch the events that he had instigated unfold.

A roar signaled that the God had been alerted. She thundered forth, surveyed the scene, and with a a sigh that shook the rafter she spoke thusly:

"Dammit, Duke! That thing cost me a packet at Comic-Con! Really, sometimes you're as bad as the damn cats."

The God thundered towards the duke's hiding place--she didn't need a spirit to tell her where he hid. She was, as always, all-knowing.

The God's moved into view, first her feet, and then her knees, and then her face as she knelt to look into the disgraced duke's eyes. The duke stared back nervously and gave a single wag of his tail to indicate his contrition.

Another sigh. A softening around the eyes and mouth, and then:

"You're lucky you're cute."