She lowered her visor and lance and spurred the horse forward.
Over the rise it lay, every joint plated, many sharp spurs covering it, razor sharp teeth filling its mouth. And it was regarding her. She charged. The lance struck home and she was hurtled
from her mount. With a glance from the dragon the stallion froze
- a statue. She tumbled to the base of another statue, that of a
naked woman and shuddered, wondering. Suddenly the thing’s
massive paw pinned her to the ground in her armor. The jaws
closed around the helm and ripped, freeing her long hair. The
dragon stopped, regarding her with a gleam in its eye.

My mind flicked back to the ceremony. Strangely, I did not
feel empowered by the High Mass. As I drank the wine and ate the
wafer, rather, all power seemed drained from me, and I felt
light, empty and powerless. I managed to walk to the Master for
the rest of the ceremony, receiving my blow and my knighthood. I
must have blacked out somewhere in the run to leap upon my steed,
and I do not remember making the strike, but I did, and I rode
forth from the town, clinging to my steed like a babe.