Lambdon's Dragon

By Ann Wamack

In the olden days of dragons, a young boy lived in the Northumberland region of Northern England. This lazy lad enjoyed fishing in the river. One day, he had caught several fine fish for his supper and one very unpleasant looking worm. On his way home in the afternoon, Lambdon was admiring his catch and tossed the inedible serpent creature down the village well. He continued on home and thought no more about it.

The years passed, as they always do. The serpent-dragon grew in the bottom of the village well. Lambdon grew, too, and to everyone's delight, he grew out of his indolent ways. Lambdon grew into a fine young man and, as all fine young men did in those days, he went to fight in the Crusades. All the while, the monster continued to grow in the bottom of the well.

One day, the fiend emerged from the well and slithered back to the river. There it grew larger and larger and became the terror of the countryside, feasting on any luckless creatures that crossed its path. The dragon ravaged through the village and finally made its way to Lambdon Hall. With the instructions from the chief steward, the household was prepared. The largest feed trough was set in the castle yard and filled to the brim with milk. The dragon drank every drop of the milk and slithered away satisfied, only to return the next day. The trough was filled every day and, if the serpent was not satiated with enough milk, the creature would tear trees from the ground and go rampaging through the region, devouring any living being it encountered, creating mayhem and spreading fear among the residents.

In this way, the castle was visited daily by the dragon and the countryside continued to suffer for many years until Lambdon returned from the Crusades. Horrified, he recognized immediately that the devastation throughout the countryside was caused by the ugly worm he had caught in the river many years before. Courageously, Lambdon vowed that he would rid the castle of this ghastly guest and restore peace to his homeland.

But Lambdon had a plan. He went straight away to the armorer and arranged for a new suit of armor. This new suit of armor was studded all about with blades and spikes sticking out like a hedgehog's coat. And it was in this new suit of armor that Lambdon strode out to face the dragon, his sword gleaming in the early morning sun.

The dragon was furious that there was no milk and turned his full wrath upon the knight who confronted him in the castle yard. Lambdon struck at the monster's head with his sword, but the wily and wicked worm wound his tail around the knight's legs, then around his chest, and intent on squeezing the life out of the valiant warrior.

The serpent dragon squeezed and squeezed, wrapping its long coils tighter and tighter around the knight. But the harder the dragon constricted around Lambdon, the more the spikes began to tear into the monster's flesh. The spikes sank deeper and deeper and the blood gushed forth. In pain and anger, the dragon bellowed its rage and coiled tighter around Lambdon until ultimately it had torn itself to pieces on the blades and spikes in the armor.

As the dying dragon's grasp weakened, Lambdon chopped off the creature's head with one strong blow from his sword. All the servants in the castle ran out into the yard and began snatching up the pieces of the dreaded dragon that had terrorized them for so many years. With Lambdon leading the way, the bits and pieces of the dragon's flesh were carried down to the rushing river and tossed into the strongest part of the current, where they were swept away forever.

Ann Wamack is a freelance writer for The Folklore Store ( http://www.folklorestore.com ), a gift shop on the edge of a land of myth and imagination. Please visit The Folklore Store for gifts and decor about fierce dragons, delicate fairies, winsome unicorns, mysterious wizards and mythical creatures.

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