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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1498527
Based on my upcoming book that examines dragons in ancient human beliefs
In a moment it was all over. This celebrated knight, victor of many battles, and champion of tournaments lay crumpled in the dust of a cavern, the scale covered paw of a great golden reptile pinning him in triumph. Despite his martial prowness in wars against men, and like the countless succession of hapless warriors before him, he didn’t have a chance against the fifty foot long, winged reptile. “You cannot pierce its scales, so aim for its eyes or open mouth”, they said, but the beast’s head never came close enough to reach. The creature took no risks but was cool, calculating, a practiced expert at defeating the most skilled fighting men. Even when attacked by large numbers, the great Wyrm cut them down like chafe with a sweeping tail or large taloned forearms that had greater reach than any man with lance or sword. And against cowards who chose to fight it from afar, its scaly body impervious to lances, spears, arrows and crossbow bolts. If the beast could breath fire as well, it didn't have to bother, for its massive strength and size, the speed and abilities of a consummate natural predator and intelligence surpassing that of any human were more than enough to defeat not only one, but a veritable army of mere men however skilled in battle. It was if the dragon was not a mere animal at all, but a perfectly designed, living, breathing, weapon of mass destruction not of this world at all..

The erstwhile hero lay prostrate on the ground, body broken and with eyes shut tightly awaiting his gruesome fate. But instead of rending teeth or fiery breath, he heard a sibilant, inhuman but very articulate and cultured voice say in his own English tongue, “It is a fine harness of armor you wear sir.......of the Milanese school, is it not? I do so like its fine, clean lines compared to all complicated creases and decoraton of the German armor so very much in style now. I have acquired several such suits of this style from my previous, um, visitors, but never one so fine as yours. I am sure it cost you a small fortune.”

The knight opened his eyes to see the talkative beast’s toothy muzzle leering only an arm’s length away, and he felt its hot, moist, and fetid breath on his face. He propped his body up with his one good arm, looked for his sword, which was far from his reach, not that it could have helped him even if he were still whole. Gaining his composure,he replied to the monster in disbelief, saying, “You can speak?”

Scaly lips cracked into what seemed to be a grin, revealing rows of wicked ivory teeth, and the reptile replied, “Ah it is a rare event when my guests possess the fortitude to engage in conversation with their humble host that I am. Why of course I can speak sir, and in more languages I suspect, than you ever knew existed. Even in languages such as Akkadian and Sumerian to be sure, tongues that have been dead for three thousand years or more -- civilizations that are now only dust and forgotten in these modern times.”

Relieved he was not already in the monster’s belly, the knight now hoped he might survive this ordeal for the creature was obviously intelligent and could possibly be reasoned with. He had previously been captured in the unending civil war that had recently ended, but his wealth and status assured he was ransomed and not killed like his expendable peasant followers. More concerned with his survival than pleasant conversation, he bowed his head down and replied, “I submit to my captivity er... Sir Dragon. Be assured that my family will pay a handsome ransom for my safe return. My squire holds my horse in the copse of trees not far from your cave, and if I would be allowed to speak to him, I....”,

The dragon interrupted, “Regrettably sir, I have little need for money, despite the popular misconception that we enjoy lying on cold coins instead of warm furs. No, I have sufficient amounts of the stuff here to entice the thieves who come to steal it", and he nodded his snout towards a great pile of coins next to heaps of armor and weapons which the knight only saw now that his eyes adjusted to the cavern's dim light. "It is far more convenient having my prey come to me, than roaming about the countryside hunting creatures for sustenance that I bear no malice towards. For you may discern from my teeth and claws that I am carnivorous by nature, and I am sorry to inform you that it is the general custom of my race, and one which I practice most religiously, to eat those men who seek to do me harm. I do not think I am being unreasonable considering your violent intentions, and I must confess that your lack of fur, claws and horns make you humans the most digestible sort of foodstuff that a dragon could wish for. It is as if your kind were always intended to be our preferred prey, and for thousands of years the most detestable of your kind certainly have been, though you probably do not realize we are only allowed to prey upon the wicked of your kind.”

The knight’s fear turned into indignation and for the first time he dared to look into the creature’s intelligent, catlike eyes as he spoke. “Do you mean to say I am wicked and deserving of death? Why I am a warrior of God and you are a minion of Satan. It is your wickedness that I came here to vanquish”. He then reached into a leather satchel hanging at his hip and removed a pale tan, vellum covered Bible with intricate brass fittings, and thrust it in front of the dragon’s snout as though it were a powerful weapon. Then he raised his head and implored, “Oh God, bestow in me the power you gave Saint George to slay this foul demon.”

The dragon was not affected in the least by the incantation, but merely cocked his head to closely scrutinize the book with a great golden orb of an eye. Satisfied, he split a wide grin of delight, exposing those terrible batteries of sharp teeth again, saying, “Yes, yes, the corner plates, the lockets, if I am not mistaken, sir, you hold a tome produced in the Canterbury monastery from the middle of the last century, under the tutelage of Brother Gregory, I should think. The illuminations in that edition are quite breathtaking, and said to be painted by the hand of Brother Gregory himself.” The dragon then rubbed his chin in contemplation with the forearm that did not hold the knght down and added, “Considering the fact that you will have no use for that fine book where you are going, (and he rolled his pink, warty tongue over his teeth for effect once he had said it), “I shall consider this your gift to me in compensation for your invasion of my privacy.......... or my spoils of war if you like, which is likely how you acquired it, hmm? Might you have even wrested it from the hand of a priest you may murdered? It does smell faintly of human blood, and I assure you sir, that in my business I know that scent very well indeed. know."

The knight’s face reddened at the dragons’s accusations, but he said nothing.

The dragon rambled on, “Yes, yes, there was a great civil war going on, something about red and white roses as I recall. I would go at night to feast on the bodies left unburied on the battlefields, and their aubundance gave me this rather undignified paunch. You slaughter your fellow Christians and countrymen because they follow one pretender to the throne or another, and towns supporting the other side, including their churches are regrettably sacked. I have heard it all before, and it is amazing how many of you ruffians have the audacity to bring a Bible with you when you come to kill me, as if it were a magic amulet that will somehow protect you.” The reptile nodded to an iron bound chest in one corner of the surprisingly tidy cavern and said, “That trunk over there in the corner is full of them. Regrettably, I cannot leave them on shelves for the cave is too damp.”

Regaining his composure, the knight opened the sacred object and tightly gripped one half of it in each hand, saying, “I’d sooner sunder this holy book in twain than let it fall into the clutches of a vile devil like you!”

In a commanding voice the dragon warned, “You damage that book sir, and I can make your fate far more painful than you could ever imagine. And as for me being a vile devil as you accuse, have you ever even read what the Bible says about dragons?”. Psalms 148, Verse 7 specifically states "Praise the Lord from the earth ye dragons". Read it yourself, I assure you it is there. And what of the praise singing Seraphim described described in Isaiah, the highest ranked heavenly creatures who surround the throne of God? Do you have any idea what the word Seraphim means in the original ancient Hebrew in which it was written?

“An, an angel?” The knight meekly replied.

“Fool, it means a fiery flying serpent, just another way of describing a fire spewing dragon before the Greek word drakon was used, and which later would evolved into your English word ‘dragon’. In fact, when the Jews began writing their scriptures in Greek, they often used the Greek word Drakon instead of the Hebrew word Seraphim. But I suppose you cannot even read the Latin in which that Bible in your hands was written in. But I imagine you can at least look at the illuminations. Go to II Samuel, Verse XX, that should do. Never mind, you cannot read, so just hold it open.”

The knight held the book open, and with a sharp talon as long as a cow's horn, the dragon deftly leafed through the pages stopping at one in which the opening letter of a verse was cleverly formed into a little painting that depicted God on a golden throne strapped to the back of a large, winged dragon that bore a close resemblance to the very dragon flipping through the pages. Putting the huge claw just above the illustration, he spoke to the knight, “Look you there sir, you see God Almighty Himself riding on the back of a Cherubim dragon, another rank of my race just below the Seraphim. Do you even see the resemblance to me?”

The knight was truly amazed at the image, having never closely looked at the wonderful illustrations in his looted Bible. But no, he could not believe his eyes and said, “It's witchery you demon, you used the powers of Satan to change the images in this holy book to beguile me. If you dragons are truly heavenly creatures as you say, how do you explain Saint George? God gave him the power to slay an evil dragon just like yourself.”

The dragon harrumphed in indignation. “For over 1000 years sir, there was never a dragon connected to the story of St. George. It was made up by a fool of a Genoese Bishop, Jacobus de Voragine, only two hundred years ago. And he suffered the loss of his soul, to an enraged Seraph dragon for that piece of blasphemy, I might add. He invented a number of other nonsensical incidents of Saints slaying dragons in that ridiculous book of his, just to make it more exciting to foolish humans who know nothing about their true theology, but who enjoy stories of men and women triumphing over greater creatures. It is nothing new, every human culture has similar stories. But I suppose I would thank his spirit, if it had not been consumed, for his silly tale of St. George has appeased my appetite for wicked men, by sending hundreds of fools like you to my lair in your pathetic fantasy to slay a dragon. No one has ever killed a dragon, sir, that I assure you. This is why there are no trophies of the hides or bones of a dragon in any church or royal treasury, save for fakes and ancient fossils alleged to be dragons. As the book of Job states, all weapons of iron and bronze are but chafe against our mighty scales. It was I, and my kin that were the destroyers of whole armies recorded in the very scriptures you hold sir, not some swan-winged angel monstrosity copied from pagan Roman statues.”

The knight’s head was reeling now, both from this incredibly long-winded dragon’s revelations and the mortal danger he faced. If what the dragon said was true, his prayers for deliverance were probably futile . As a seasoned warrior of many battles, and owner of a large estate he was no fool, despite his inability to read, which he believed was an art reserved for weaker men. His only option now was to use guile and diplomacy to save himself, so he attempted a weak smile, gently closed the Bible, dusted it off, held it up to the dragon and meekly said, “I humbly apologize for my impertinence of intending you harm, holy and noble beast. I hope that in your capacity as a heavenly creature, you will find forgiveness in your heart, and spare this repentant Christian. Please accept this fine Bible you admire as my gift, and if you should require any monetary compensation for your troubles, I would be......”

“ENOUGH!” The dragon roared, cutting off the man’s plea. “You are a murderer sir, and it is within my rights to make you my prey. At another time, I might have released you, so pleased that I am to acquire this wonderful gift of a Canterbury Bible. But understand that even if I chose to spare you, and you lived to a ripe old age, another dragon, or even I myself would eventually consume your wicked soul when it came before judgement. And regrettably for you sir, this latest Sabbatical to your world is growing short, and you may be my last opportunity to indulge in my favorite repast for many years. I must return to a place where the only food for dragon and angel alike is that rather boring manna. In fact, the days when dragons are permitted to fly in the daylight and devour the wicked in body, are ordained to be concluded, and in the future we will be permitted only to hunt the seas and isolated forests and no longer shall our prey be men, however evil. As I perceive the order, as mankind’s knowledge of the sciences improve, we are to become only things of legend in the minds of men, and I suspect even our roles as heavenly creatures will be misrepresented and forgotten. For it is my understanding that you are to henceforth have freedom to believe in anything you wish, and not live in the fear of dragons whose mere existence would force you to worship the deity we creatures serve. But it matters not. We have lorded over the lands for long enough, and there are still the seas to hunt and explore in the centuries ahead, for we dragons are as at home in that environment as this one.”

The dragon was speaking wistfully now, and more to himself than to his trapped prey. But then he refocused his attention and picked the man up in his great taloned paws, and with great alacrity, (coming from doing this hundreds of times before), he quickly shucked the various parts of armor off the now trembling knight as one might peal the shell off of a hard boiled egg. All the while, the dragon spoke to the man, now in a calm, even soothing voice, saying, “I thank you for the Bible sir, and I shall treasure it to be sure. But you are pleading to deaf ears I am afraid, in regards to your deliverance. But despite you past wickedness, you can happily die in the knowledge that your erstwhile adventure here will provide ample sustenance this day for the wondrous heavenly creature you see before you.”

Now stark naked, the man cried and pleaded as the dragon’s great pink tongue licked him all over as a dog would a sausage, covering him in a thick coating of slimy saliva. As the dragon licked and smacked his lips, he continued to speak to the whimpering human, saying, “If it is any comfort to you sir, (lick).....let me assure you that despite your many sins.....(smack)....... that you needn’t worry about ....(slurp)...... suffering eternal damnation in a fiery hell.....(lick)........that sir, is a misunderstanding of the original scriptures, compounded by that popular book by Mr. Dante (smack)......for the truth of the matter was stated in a popular scripture........(slurp)........that was used by both the ancient Jews and early Christians alike, though it has now been left out of the Bible.........(lick).......You see, in the Apocalypse of Baruch, as this scripture is called, this saintly man Baruch, ......(smack)......is being shown the wonders of heaven by an angel, .....(slurp)........and Baruch notices a large dragon lying there in heaven, and asks the angel what is its purpose. The angel responds that the dragon is he who devours those who spend their lives wickedly.....(lick)”.

At this point the dragon laid down on his back, wiggling in the dust a bit as if to get comfortable. He gingerly grasped the knight’s right foot with two pinching talons and dangled the him headfirst over his gaping jaws. He continued to speak as the man shrieked in terror, saying, “And the last thing the angel said on the matter was”, and the dragon paused until the man stopped wailing. “Thank you”, the dragon said, and then continued when the man had his full attention, saying, “And the angel said, that the belly of the dragon was Hell”, and on that last word the knight was neatly dropped, now screaming again, straight into the black chasm that was the dragon’s gaping throat.
© Copyright 2008 Draconic Chronicler (ningishzida at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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