Page One
The Beginning
It all began on an ordinary day, as most adventures begin. Squire Meek knew that he and his tall knight, Sir Grimhelm, were going on a morning ride into the woods, and he hurried to get ready. He pulled on his jerkin and boots, noticing sadly that the hole he had mended in his shirt had split open again.
"I mustn't eat so much," he thought, and his belly rumbled at the thought of breakfast. "Oh, fizzle," he said, and rubbed his face with cold water and smoothed his red spiky hair. "You're a fat little squire of sixteen years, Meek my lad, and you'll never be a tall strong knight unless a. sorcerer comes along and waves his wand and says, "By the great power of the protector of all knights...?"
As Meek ambled toward the great hall for breakfast, daydreaming of knighthood, he walked straight into the stable door, overturning a milk pail and scattering chickens in every direction. The young lad stumbled and sat down hard, his fine dreams shattered by an angry milkmaid with a broom.
"Out!" she cried. "Out, you clumsy dolt! Of all the king's squires, you are the worse!" She gave him an exasperated poke, and he stumbled out into the courtyard, leaving behind him a cloud of chicken feathers, puddles of spilled milk, and a sputtering maid.
The young squire walked slowly towards the common-room of the great castle where he was surrounded by noise and laughter and rough jokes. Meek joined the other squires with a sigh, wishing he were as merry as they.
"They're almost ready to be knights," he muttered to himself over his black bread and soup. "No more cleaning stables or mending armor or currying horses."
And then he thought of his kind quiet master, Sir Grimhelm, and he felt better. "I'd be a squire for another ten years if I could be a knight as noble as he."
Preoccupied by his thoughts, Meek never noticed the conversation that was going on around him. Suddenly he heard one word: "Grenfendel," and he turned to listen.
"They say he lives in the Baelwood. And no one has ever returned alive to tell where his den is hidden."
One excited squire was holding the others spellbound with his tale. "He's a dragon, a great fiery beast that shakes the earth when he walks."
"No, no," said another. "They say he's a man, a giant with long arms and great eyes that burn through his enemies."
Meek trembled as he listened to the stories of this fearsome creature that had eaten or otherwise destroyed all those sent out to find him. It was a nightmare that he often had, Grenfendel chasing him through the murky Baelwood, the gruesome monster's shape always changing. The young squire had never told anyone, not even Grimhelm, about his dream.
Meek quickly finished his soup, for even so terrible a beast as Grenfendel could not spoil the appetite of a young squire preparing for what might be a long and difficult journey. Then the round squire trotted off to the rooms where he and Grimhelm made ready for their adventure.
The stone floors were cold. But a fire crackled in the hearth, and the red curtains gave color to the otherwise bare room. Sir Grimhelm stood buckling on his sword, his fair hair gleaming and his grey eyes full of fun.
He turned to Meek and grinned. "All ready, squire" We have a ride of two hours into the woods. Take your water bag and let's be off."
Meek looked up at his knight with a broad, admiring smile.
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