The Archbishop and the Dragon 2.7k (standard:fairy tales, 2663 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jun 19 2020	Views/Reads: 1440/978	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The king of England orders an adviser to chase a dragon from the island. The adviser objects since the dragon, Gargoyle or Gargie is gentle and even gives gifts every Christmas. A visiting archbishop is given the task.

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the Cathedral of Blookings. With a heavy sigh, the churchman put away 
his papers. He had been studying a speech. The archbishop had an 
audience scheduled with the Queen that evening but first he had to meet 
with that thrice-damned black priest. 

Well, if we have to let them into the church this sewer is a good place
to store them, he thought as the carriage door opened. 

He was met by Bishop Nakuma at the front door of the edifice. The Bishop
motioned a lackey to take His Honor's baggage and the two church 
officials exchanged false pleasantries. The odor was more tolerable 
inside, with sweet-smelling candles lighting their way. 

*** 

Mai Li was new to London, or any large city. After a life in the open
countryside of rural China, the narrow winding streets were confusing. 
In those days sidewalks were unheard of and the press of population 
meant streets were only wide enough for a small cart or carriage to 
travel. Not enough for two to pass. 

Whenever a carriage would approach she as well as other pedestrians
would scramble to seek shelter in doorways, alleys, and alcoves. 
Cartier's crept along, neither they nor their horses, ponies, or oxen 
paying attention to the press of humanity. 

Normally pedestrians would tiptoe down the center of the thoroughfare,
carefully avoiding animal and human droppings. Get too close to the 
buildings and you'd risk the contents of chamber-pots dropping from 
above. 

Being from a farming community, Mai Li was accustomed to the odor of
sweet violets, sweeter than the roses, covered all over from head to 
toe, covered all over with ... sweet ... vio-- You get the idea. 

The Chinese girl was tired from her long journey across several
continents. She had come all that way to see a supposed dragon named 
Gargie. As exhausted as she was, she'd first have to find a place to 
stay for the night and tomorrow continue on the last leg of her 
journey. 

The dainty little fluff turned another of the numerous corners and found
she had to wait for yet another carriage. That one sported a couple of 
huge ruffian footmen dressed in fancy pantaloons. They were having a 
laughing good time shoving people out of the way so that the carriage 
wouldn't have to slow down even more. 

The mischievous girl, using sorceress powers, muttered a curse in her
native language. The two bullies stumbled, only to fall on their faces 
as very-proper pantaloons dropped off fat bellies and skinny shanks, 
down to plump ankles -- thereby revealing a lack of very-proper 
undergarments. 

The carriage driver jerked on his reins, causing both horses to halt and
the carriage to do likewise. Pedestrians, however, took a great deal of 
pleasure in the sight. While the pair of prettily clad pantywaists 
--well actually panty-ankled church footmen -- struggled to regain 
their dignity, a little boy rushed over and stole a slipper off one of 
them. 

Finally, the archbishop's carriage resumed its travels, amid a gale of
laughter. The two footmen, one limping, became more gentle in their 
efforts. 

“Ay, lookie ‘ere, Alf,” she heard behind her, “a right nice piece
a'fluff, don' ye think?” 

She turned to see a trio of unwashed young men behind her. One was
imitating her walk -- to the amusement of his fellows. As a small 
oriental teenager, she looked particularly vulnerable. Another rubbed 
his crotch and winked one eye at her. 

The dainty little girl was not amused, not at all. She had encountered
others like them during her travels. Besides, she was in a good mood 
after the incident with the carriage. She gave them a bright little 
smile, licked her lips suggestively, and turned down a convenient space 
between two buildings. 

The three young men whooped in anticipation as they followed her into a
constricted alleyway. Mai Li used another incantation to cause a strong 
arctic wind to blow through the narrow space. It flattened the trio to 
a wall. They couldn't move, the blast holding them like glue. 

Smiling, Mai Li went over to each of them, unmindful of the wind, and
quickly searched their pockets for valuables. That happened to be one 
way she had financed her long journey. She never robbed anyone who 
didn't deserve it. One of the young men was good-looking, so she gave 
him a kiss on the cheek, the others she kicked between the legs before 
leaving. After she had a good headstart the wind ceased as quickly as 
it had begun. 

*** 

Gargouille, or Gargie to his many friends, sat on a large rock at the
entrance to his cave. Although his eyesight had been going bad for the 
last hundred years, he still enjoyed sitting in the open air while 
reading classical and religious literature. 

It was pleasant for the gentle dragon to sit in warm sunlight while
reading about past loves and wars. How mighty dragons had, like 
himself, saved pretty maidens from evil knights.   As it slowly set, 
the sun felt warm on his scales. 

Occasionally Gargie would reach down and, using a large silver fork,
tear a piece off a roasted lamb. The snack was a present from the 
townspeople for helping them build a new town hall. They'd promised to 
feed him for a week. Gargie owned plenty of jewels and gold to pay for 
his keep but it was a nice gesture on their part. 

He realized, sadly, that he had quite a few mean ancestors who had
accumulated a very large fortune to hand down to him. It felt nice to 
be rich and sit in the warm sun, reading a good novel. 

He felt a sneeze coming on and hurriedly raised the book above his head,
shielding it from a huge blast of flame erupting from partially-blocked 
nostrils. 

“Darn that cold air,” he roared. Gargie couldn't help roaring. A
dragon's throat was not made for soft speaking. “I ruin more darn books 
that way.” 

Gargie had burnt a book a few days before, when the sneeze snuck up on
him. On Sundays, he couldn't even enter the church when he had a cold. 
He was afraid he would burn it down by reflex. Gargie had, just 
yesterday, finished repainting his living room after a sneezing bout 
had blackened the walls. “It's my curse,” he reminded himself with a 
snort. 

*** 

“What? You mean you actually allow a dragon to reside in your kingdom,”
the archbishop bellowed in astonishment. “Unheard of. Completely 
unheard of. Of course I'll drive it out for you.” 

Bishop Nakuma was surprised at the intensity of his superior's reaction.
On the other hand he was glad to get rid of the officious ass for a 
while. 

The next morning, refreshed by a good night's sleep, the archbishop
unpacked a set of silver armor studded with huge opals and started out 
on a holy quest. 

Not being stupid, the church official stopped at the nearest landlord's,
the Duke of Earl's, castle to pick up a retinue of pikemen to accompany 
him. The Duke, being relatively poor, had no knights. He could support 
a hundred foot-soldiers for the cost of one knight. As a matter of 
fact, since he needed all his young men for other duties, he employed 
only over-age ex-farmers and brickmakers for his castle guard. 

Accompanied by thirty such soldiers, the archbishop set out to battle
the dragon. Due to their advanced age, arthritis, and piles most of 
them preferred to ride in wagons. Unknown to the archbishop, they 
brought along a more than generous amount of dark ale to give them 
liquid courage. In holiday spirits since they held no fear of Gargie, 
they rode out on the great adventure. 

The procession made for a strange sight with the dour Archbishop of
Rouen riding into the dragon's den on a large white mare, followed by a 
gaggle of old drunks, them throwing up and sprinkling roadside trees as 
they covered the few miles to battle. 

The sight was not appreciated by the small Chinese girl. She was forced
to step off the roadway to allow them to pass by. 

Cries of “hooboy, lookit the broad, Harry me boy,” accompanied their
passing. 

“Oh what I could do to her.” 

“You mean thirty years ago, Jim.” 

“Yummy. Yummy. Yummy.” 

“You can't cut the mustard anymore, boy'o.” 

“But I can still lick the jar.” 

The cries gradually faded as the retinue passed Mia Li and faded into
the morning fog. She attempted to reenter the roadway but, after 
dodging around several pools of alcoholic vomit, decided to cut across 
the field toward a simple village in the distance. 

When the parade finally reached the monster's cave, the soldiers spread
out and prepared to attack. It was a tightly-knit force, the drunker 
ones supported by their buddies, that hobbled into the cave -- lances 
extended to do battle. 

“I was here last month, Alfie. He has some wonderful German wine. Hope
there's some left.” 

“Don't make him angry or we won't get any.” 

Ahead of them, the archbishop, cross held ahead of him to ward off the
evil beast, swept the cave with angry eyes. With the exception of a 
large unmade bed there was no sign of occupation. Even the dishes were 
washed. 

Rouen called his men back and they set off to search nearby villages. It
was Sunday and, since he was there, the archbishop thought he should 
visit a local church. He saw it as a duty. 

Mai Li, seeing the gang coming back at her, turned and trotted toward a
church spire as seen across a small wheat field. She didn't 
particularly want to meet that drunken mob again. 

*** 

Gargie was also engrossed in the church service. It was one of his
favorites, about the life of John. He was eagerly waiting for the next 
hymn. He sang tenor in the choir. 

Someone nudged the huge dragon and he turned to see a drunken procession
staggering down the road toward the church. The priest stopped his 
sermon to take in the sight as they approached. 

Seeing the dragon seemingly attacking the congregation, Archbishop Rouen
jumped off his horse and charged the monster with his holy cross, 
before which no dragon could stand. 

“Oh, that one's pretty, sir. I've got a bigger one, if you'd like to
have it? Go ahead, I have many more at home.” Gargie offered the 
Archbishop a huge twenty-pound jeweled cross. The two of them stood, 
the archbishop and the monstrous dragon, poking jeweled crosses at each 
other. 

The Archbishop realized he couldn't shove the other's religious object
aside to get at his foe. Whenever he fainted toward one side, the 
larger cross followed, continuing to flaunt him. Finally the archbishop 
retreated and screamed at his troops. 

“Get him. Attack and kill the monster.” 

The pikemen, having no intention of harming their friend, simply stood
and shook their heads, which infuriated the Archbishop. He grabbed a 
sharp weapon from one of the brave warriors and ran at the monster. 

Mai Li, seeing the unwarranted attack, called on the Chinese rain spirit
and the church official found himself inundated by a small but violent 
storm which took shape above his official head. He was drenched in a 
moment. As Archbishop Rouen tried to advance, the tiny torrent 
intensified and followed him, eventually filling the heavy armor with 
rainwater and driving the theologian to the ground. 

After he regained his feet, the archbishop found everyone set against
him, the pikemen, villagers, and dragon forced him to get back onto his 
horse and leave. He was so humiliated that he immediately turned to 
head back to his home in Paris, leaving carriage and footmen behind in 
London. 

The experience didn't stop him from writing a report to the Pope about
how he had slain the monster with his cross. Unfortunately, it was the 
Archbishop's version that made its way into the history books. 

Everything turned out well. Gargie, who's name was Gargouille, became
famous and had gargoyles named after him. They are still used to drive 
evil spirits from buildings, including churches. 

The next Christmas, the dragon sent a tub of jewels to the King. The
villagers kept their benefactor. Mai Li, herself, turned out to be the 
beautiful daughter of the Eastern Sea Dragon King. All the time, she'd 
been a dragon in disguise. 

She had been coming as a bride, the marriage arranged hundreds of years
before by their parents. Having powers over weather and water, she 
could even keep the temperature in their cave warm. He no longer 
suffered from colds or shot flames ... except to light cigars. 

The End.


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