Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

dragon firmly. 'You're supposed to roar horribly, claw the ground, and then charge upon me breathing fire.'
    The dragon thought about this. Two thin plumes of smoke drifted up from his nostrils. 'Why?' he asked finally.
    Rupert lowered his sword, which was becoming heavier by the minute, and leaned on it. 'Well,' he said slowly, 'it's traditional, I suppose. That's the way it's always been.'
    'Not with me,' said the dragon. 'Why do you want to kill me?'
    'It's a long story,' said the Prince.
    The dragon grunted. 'Thought it might be. You'd better come on in.'
    He retreated into his cave and, after a moment's hesitation, Rupert followed him into what quickly proved to be a tunnel. In a strange way, he felt almost angry that he hadn't had to fight; he'd spent so long preparing for the moment, and now it had been taken from him. He wondered if the creature might just be playing with him, but it seemed unlikely. If the dragon had wanted him dead, he'd be dead by now. He clumsily stumbled on down the tunnel, a cold sweat beading his brow as the light fell away behind him.
    The unrelieved gloom reminded him of the Darkwood, and he was glad when the darkness gave wav to
    the cheerful crimson glow of a banked fire. He hurried towards the light, and burst out of the tunnel mouth to find the dragon waiting patiently for him in a huge rock chamber easily five hundred feet across, the walls of which were covered with the largest collection of preserved butterflies Rupert had ever seen.
    'I thought dragons collected hoards of gold and silver,' said Rupert, gesturing at the hundreds of highly polished display cases.
    The dragon shrugged. 'Some collect gold and silver. Some collect jewels. I collect butterflies. They're just as pretty, aren't they?'
    'Sure, sure,' said the Prince soothingly, as sparks glowed hotly in the dragon's nostrils. He sheathed his sword, sank down on to his haunches opposite the reclining dragon, and studied him curiously.
    'What's the matter?' asked the dragon.
    'You're not quite what I expected,' Rupert admitted.
    The dragon chuckled. 'Legends rarely are.'
    'But you can talk.'
    'So can you.'
    'Well, yes, but I'm human ...'
    'I had noticed,' said the dragon dryly. 'Look, most of the legends, that we're big and strong and nasty and eat people for any or no reason, all those stories were made up by dragons, to frighten people away.'
    'But ...'
    'Look,'said the dragon, leaning forward suddenly. 'One on one, I'm more than a match for any human, but no dragon can fight an army.' The huge creature hissed softly, golden eyes staring through Rupert at something only they could see. 'Once, dragons filled the skies, masters of all that was. The sun warmed our wings as we soared above the clouds and watched the world turn beneath us. We tore gold and silver from the rock with our bare claws, and the earth trembled when we roared. Everything that lived feared us. And then came man, with his sword and his lance, his armour and his armies. We should have banded together while we still could, but no, we fought each other, and feuded and squabbled, and guarded our precious hoards. And one by one we fell, alone. Our time had passed.'
    The dragon lay brooding a moment, and then shook himself. 'Why did you come to challenge me?'
    'It's supposed to prove me worthy to be King.'
    'Do you want to kill me?'
    Rupert shrugged, confused. 'It'd be easier if you were the monster you're supposed to be. Haven't you slaughtered women and children, burned property to the ground, and stolen cattle?'
    'Certainly not,' said the dragon, shocked. 'What kind of creature do you think I am?'
    Rupert raised an eyebrow, and the dragon had the grace to look a little sheepish. 'All right, maybe I did raze the odd village, devour an occasional maiden, but that was a long time ago. I was a dragon, they expected it of me. I'm retired now.'
    There was a long pause. Rupert frowned into the gently crackling fire. This wasn't at all what he'd expected.
    'Do you want to kill me?' he asked the dragon.
    'Not particularly. I'm getting a little old for all this nonsense.'
    'Well, don't you want to eat me?'
    'No,' said the dragon firmly. 'People give me heartburn.'
    There was another long silence.
    'Look,' said the dragon finally. 'Killing me is supposed to prove your worth, right?'
    'Right,' said the Prince. That much he was sure of.
    'So, why not bring back a live dragon? Isn't that an even braver thing to do?'
    Rupert thought about it. 'That might just do it,'