Sir Jacob's First Quest

Sir Jacob's First Questan original fairytale by Niceguy.
Part 1 of ?



Once upon a time there lived in a peaceful village a brave and courteous young lad named Jacob. When Jacob had come of age, he was granted a knighthood. But even three full months after receiving his knighthood, the brave young knight had still not been granted a single quest. It was a time of peace in the kingdom and thus there was nary a battle to be fought. There were some truly grand quests, but those were all granted to knights of renown - men who were knighted back when the honor still meant something. Nowadays, the younger knights cold only hone their skills in tournaments, but that was not for him. He found them to be a waste of time; a place for posers to show off, and nothing more. About halfway through another night of drowning his boredom in tankards of mead at the knight’s tavern, he saw something that made him question his senses. Or… at least wonder how much he’d drank.

A large reptile, too large for a chameleon and too small for an iguana slowly sauntered in though the tavern door. It was such a strange sight that he was surprised that no one else seemed to notice it - which made him question his senses even more. (Not to mention re-count his tankards.) The lizard slowly crawled across the room, seating himself right next to the young knight. Sir Jacob notice a small scroll of parchment tied to a makeshift collar around the strange creature’s neck. Despite the incredibly odd manner of the message’s delivery, the young knight could feel the touch of destiny as he reached for the scroll. He slowly unrolled it and read:

Brave Sir Knight,

I beseech thee. For I am cursed
by an evil wizard and have been locked away
in a tower, guarded by great monsters.
The tower lies only a few days trek into the dark forest.
I bid thee, please rescue me.

Yours, patiently waiting,
Princess Romana

PS.: Please excuse my choice of messengers.
I’m rather not fond of songbirds or pigeons. (Feathers.)

He brought the note close to his face and inhaled, expecting to find the scent of a maiden’s perfume. To his surprise there was none. Even so, he realized what this meant.

“Well, in spite of that last line… a bit odd that… This is definitely a quest, and I shall undertake it!” But at that moment, the mead seemed to go to his head all at once, and after making his bold and public declaration, he collapsed onto the table, much to the entertainment of the other bored and drunken knights in the tavern.

“…first thing tomorrow.” He said before passing out.

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When he awoke, he had only a hazy memory of what had transpired the night previous. He no longer possessed the note, and the strange lizard seemed to have gone s well. All he could remember was that a princess needed rescuing and that she was in a tower deep in the dark forest. That wasn’t much to go on, but he vowed to undertake the quest all the same. Pulling himself off of the table, and out of a puddle of – he didn’t want to know – he left the tavern and went into town to freshen up and get supplies.

After a much needed bath, he donned his armor (which having never been used, did not need for polishing), sheathed his sword (which also having never been used, did not need for sharpening), tethered his shield to his back and alit his helm. As it also had never been used, it did not need for polishing, but it did lack for flourish.

“This will not do! She will see that my helm is without flourish and know that I am not a knight of renown!” And, having forgotten the odd line at the end of the princess’s note, he went into town, purchased several long and colourful feathers and placed them atop his helm.

“I shall also need to bring favours,” he declared to himself, “For such a fine lady will want for more than mere rescue.” Figuring he should bear three gifts, not including the rescuing, he went from shop to shop but could only find two: A silk handkerchief and a slender bottle of perfume. He thought that flowers made also make a fine gift, but not knowing how long he would be riding feared that they would wilt. “I shall gather some wild blooms, once I approach the tower. The lady will surely know that I am a fine and chivalrous knight upon receiving my fine gifts and her rescue.”

And with that, Sir Jacob was off; driving his horse over hill and dale and to the edge of the dark forest. Although he would have many smaller adventures there within, none are important to this narrative save that he eventually reached an old, rickety bridge spanning a large chasm, across which lay what appeared to be a wizard’s dark tower. Although he could not know for sure, he again felt the touch of destiny, and knew that his princess lay trapped inside. Nearby he found a large stable, half filled with black horses. Knowing he could not bring his any further, he placed him in one of the stalls, marking the place in his mind so that he could later find his steed. Now on foot, he started across the dilapidated bridge.

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He slowly crept along the old, creaky rope bridge. Its boards were just a few feet wide, and several sagged under his weight. When he was but halfway across he heard a deep, gravelly voice call from behind him.



“I am here to free the fair maiden within yonder tower. And you are on the wrong side of the bridge to delay my journey!”

“Didn’t notice me, did you, little boy?” Another deep, gravelly voice called out again from behind him. Now he was trapped in the middle of this crumbling bridge between two enormous trolls. He drew his sword, even as he cursed his predicament. The trolls slowly closed in on him. The wood planks and ropes that made up the bridge creaked and strained under their combined weight. The chasm had to be a hundred feet deep, and he had no idea if he could hold on, should he cut the ropes. (Or if the old wood would hold him, even should he find the strength himself.) As the Trolls drew within striking distance, all three were suddenly distracted by an incredibly loud and high pitched sound that echoed through the forest.

“SHOOOOOOOO!” The scream-like note even seemed to startle a nearby flock of birds into flights.

The sound also caused the trolls to look up and, seizing the moment, Sir Jacob ducked under one and ran to the tower’s side of the bridge, slashing the ropes as he crossed the last plank. Whether it was the age of the ropes, or the untouched condition of his blade, it took only a single swipe to send the bridge and the Trolls falling into the chasm.

“Not bad.” He said to himself. “With the first swing of my blade as a knight I managed to slay two trolls. Of course, now I’m not sure how we are to get back across the chasm, but that shall wait. Let us see what other perils lay betwixt myself and the fair maiden.”

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Sir Jacob quickly closed the distance between the bridge and the tower and approached what appeared to be the main gate and quietly as his armor would let him. Seated in front of the gate, reclined and asleep against the wall was another enormous hulk of a man… like… creature. Sir Jacob estimated that it would be about eight feet tall standing up, and did not appear to be another Troll. From its crude wrappings and foul stench he assumed that it was an Ogre. He could see the keys to the gate hitched on its belt. Although not as fearsome as the Trolls, its weapon looked more like a tree than a club, and the young knight felt that, this time, discretion would be the better part of valor. He had just about slipped the key ring of the Ogre Belt when that same loud, high pitched sound echoed through the wood.

“SHOOOOOOOO!”

Sir Jacob’s blood froze, but the Ogre did not wake. He merely shifted his weight a little, snored a bit and went back into his deep slumber. Keys in hand, Sir Jacob opened the gate.

Going in, he found himself on a landing. A spiral staircase led both up and down. Figuring his quarry to be at the highest point in the tower he started up. He guessed that the Wizard and any other of his foul minions he had would likely have lairs below. After a grueling climb, he found himself on another landing, near what he figured was the top of the tower. He saw before an oaken door, reinforced with iron, closed with a lock, gilded in silver. Looking at the key ring, he found a small, silver key.

Slowly and quietly he turned the silver key in the silver lock. The hinge went slack and he opened the door. As he gazed inside he was struck by the beauty of the maiden he saw, back lit by the afternoon sun as she sat by the window. Her features were among the most delicate and beautiful that he had ever seen. Her eyes were those of an elf; a deep green, as if they could shame the most lush and fertile forest. She had the countenance of the purest faerie, with high, soft looking cheeks and a small slender nose that curved upward like a drawn bow, ending in the tiniest point. Although she seemed surprised to see him, her slender lips drew into a broad smile, revealing teeth so perfect that only a fairy-tale princess could possess them. She rose and started towards him. He fell to one knee and bowed his head taking her hand in his.

“Oh fair lady; I have traveled over hill and dale, though darkness and peril to bring thee to thy freedom. Come, alight with me and we shall be gone from this place. Wilt thou come with me?”

He remained kneeling as he awaited her reply but she said nothing. Then it seemed as though she would have withdrawn her hand, had he not held it so tightly. Surprised and even a little ashamed by this turn of events, he ventured a glance upward without raising his head. As he did, all became apparent.

When he knelt, he did not remove his helm. The very ends of the large plumes which sat atop his helm had just reached the tip of her delicate nose. She would have taken only a single step back, but could not as he held her hand fast. She had not replied because her breath had hitched almost immediately and she waved her free gently in front of her face as if in a effort to ward of n impending sneeze. By the time Sir Jacob had taken this all in, here eyes were already closing.

“ha… haah… haAAAH-SHOOOOOOOOO!”

In his shock, he released her hand. He could not believe that so thunderous a sound had emanated from so delicate a girl.

“P-please, b-brave sir knight. I b-bid th-thee… R-Remove you h-helm… p-please…”

He stepped back before bowing in apology. “I am sorry madam, for you no doubt wish to see the face of your rescuer.” He was, however, somewhat careless as he removed his helm and the feathers brushed across her nose once again.

“N-no… th-the f-feather… m-make… m-me… snee… hah… snee… haaaah… haAAAH-SHOOOOOOOOO! *sniff* sneeze.”

Immediately Sir Jacob stepped back several feet, and placed his helm as the far side of the room. “A thousand pardons I beg thee, my lady. Please, as a token of my sincerest apologies, please accept the wild blooms. I gathered them from the garden outside the tower before I came in.” Dropping again to one knee he raised the bouquet to a level where she would be certain to catch it enchanting scent. Again bowing his head he could not see the fear that now filled her eyes.

“W-wait… n-no… all those… in the garden… m-make m-me… snee… hah… snee… haaaah… haAAAH-SHOOOOOOOOO! *sniff* sneeze as well! *sniff* Please I bid thee… *sniff* away with them!” She held one hand to her nose as she tried to push them away with the other.

He quickly tossed the flowers out onto the landing. So far this rescue was not going as he had foreseen it. Additionally he was getting concerned that this delicate maiden’s window rattling sneezes would soon attract unwanted attention. All the same he was starting to find the whole situation strangely arousing. Although he felt it slightly cruel, he could not believe how unbelievably beautiful this fair maiden was, particularly when she sneezed. He sensed that she did not care for it herself, as she seemed to have fought mightily to prevent it, but in those brief moments she only seemed even more precious to him. Inside his armor, his codpiece began to grow ever more uncomfortable. Against his better judgment, he presented her with the second gift.

“*sniff* Oh my, what is this?” she asked sweetly.

“It is a lovely scent for you my lady.” And with that he removed the stopper and held it high so that she could smell it.

“Wh-what?… N-no… P-Please… I’m… going… to… snee… hah… sneeze… haaah… again… haaaaah… haAAAH-SHOOOOOOOOO! What *sniff* what are you doing brave sir Knight?! haaaaah… haAAAH-SHOOOOOOOOO! Why *sniff*… why did you come here?! *sniff* and wh-what is w-with th-these gi… gi… hah… haAAAH-SHOOOOOOOOO! GIFTS? Were you sent to rescue or to torment me?!”

Now holding the small bottle as far from the princess as he could, Sir Jacob fell back to one knee and apologizing again, held aloft the silk handkerchief. Since his head was down he could not see the tears welling up in the princess’s eyes. (But were they of joy? Or just allergies?)

“Oh brave Sir Knight!” She cried with glee, as she snatched the silken handkerchief from his hand, brought it to her nose, and gave it a mighty blow.

“PLLLLLLLPPPPBT!”

“Fair Lady…”

“PLLLBLPLBLPLPPPPBT!”

“I must again apolo…”

“PLLLLBLLPLLBLLPLLPPPPBBTT!”

“um… it can wait.”

Sir Jacob could now barely suppress his smile as the princess continued to blow heartily, nigh ruining the fine material, but apparently grateful for at least the one gift that did not cause her discomfort. When he looked up, the maiden was blushing. “I’m… I’m sorry brave Sir Knight. I’m sure that hardly behavior befitting a young lady. I do thank you for the lovely handkerchief though. Come sit by my bedside. You must be thirsty. Have some water, and rest a bit before we go.”

“Dear lady, I thank thee. And I do hope you accept my apologies. It was only my intention to bring for thee rescue, not torment.” He drank deeply from the flagon that she handed him.

“Your apology is accepted, brave Sir Knight. It is as much my own fault. I should have been more specific in my letter, but I feared that too much information might scare off a potential rescuer, or give the impression that I am some how sickly. I could not bear the thought of that.”

“Um… My lady… is it wise that we dawdle here? Surely the guards will have heard your snee… I mean our conversation by now?”

“You needn’t worry, brave Sir Knight. I am mostly left alone up here. I am given food and drink, and water for a bath. But aside from that, I never receive company.”

“But… your…” Sir Jacob was almost red in the face to say it. “…sneezing.” He managed in a whisper.

With that the princess let out a pleasant, almost musical laugh. “Oh that? You needn’t worry yourself about that either, brave Sir Knight. The guards are quite used to that by now.”

“How do you mean, my lady?”

“Well, this tends to happened a lot in the spring, when the trees and flowers are all in bloom…”

“I see…”

“And in the summer, when the weeds sprout…”

“Oh dear…”

“And in the autumn, when the leave fall and the hay is made…”

“My dear lady! Are you relieved then only in Winter?”

“Well I would do, except that I have rather a tendency to catch cold as well.”

“Oh my…”

“Plus I cannot abide a dusty old castle. Oh yes… Nor cats, nor dogs, nor horses, nor…”

“I say. That wizard seems to have placed quite a curse on you hasn’t he?”

At first, the princess merely stared at the knight, as if struck by a non sequitor, but then erupted in the same lilting, musical laughter as before. “You think my condition is the result of a curse?” Her smile was even wider than before, but the knight still felt that he had been overly presumptuous and out of turn.

“Forgive me my lady… I…”

“Oh no…” she interrupted, still laughing. “Not at all, brave Sir Knight. No. No. No. The curse I spoke of is an entirely… different nature.”

“And that would be…”

“A private nature.” The smile suddenly left her.

“I am sorry. Again I have spoken out of turn. I bid thee forgive me, my lady.”

“Oh it is no worry, brave Sir Knight. We have only just met, so it is natural that you should have questions. But as I say, my health is not the condition of any curse. I have been this way since I was a little girl.” The smile returned, appearing somewhat mischievous. “You should have seen how quickly I could clear a room, back when the fear of plague still gripped the land…” At that thought, they both laughed and Sir Jacob felt more at ease.

“Well, milady… Perhaps it is time that we leave this place?”

“I am yours for the rescuing, brave Sir Knight. I hope you will not take it a miss if, of your fine gifts, I take only the handkerchief, forsaking the others?”

A broad smile on his face, Sir Jacob answered, “My lady, I will not.”

And with that they started down the stairs...
to be continued?