Originally, I had hoped to convince a publisher to make “The Dragon Story” into a picture book. Illustrator Susanna Natti agreed and drew four sample illustrations for it. They are posted here with her permission. Despite, Susanna’s great artwork, I couldn’t interest a publisher in the picture book format. The Obsolete Dragon earned an honorable mention in the 1996 Black Hills Writers’ Competition, which received about 900 entries. An edited version was published in Newfangled Fairy Tales (Meadowbrook Press, 1997). This is the original version. ---CGV
THE OBSOLETE DRAGON
by
Text © 1997 by Carole G. Vogel
Illustrations © 1997 by Susanna Natti
"Why don't dragons leave their caves anymore?" asked the young dragon.
The old green dragon gazed at the young one and sighed. Smoke curled out of his nostrils.
"Long ago we dragons were needed," he said. "In those times girls did not choose their husbands. Their fathers told them whom to marry. Desperate maidens came to us in secret. They hired dragons to fight their unwanted suitors."
"I remember one beautiful lady in distress. Maid Gwendolyn was her name. I can see her standing before me now."
'Mr. Dragon, Mr. Dragon I need your help,' she pleaded. 'My father has promised me to Sir Grimbald, the evil knight. I fear for my very life!'
'Why?' I asked.
'People say he killed his first two wives,' she replied. 'But, even if Sir Grimbald was kind and gentle, I still would not wish to be his bride. I love another. Sir Blazenwood is his name. Please, Mr. Dragon, fight Sir Grimbald and defeat him.'
'For a fee, of course, my lady,' I said.
'Will a month's supply of pyrocrackers and one hundred gallons of dragon ale be enough?'
The lady must have known that the way to a dragon's heart is through his stomach. I readily agreed.
'I have a plan to arrange for Sir Blazenwood to win my hand,' she said. 'If you can make it succeed, I will pay extra.'
One cannot fight if the opponent does not know there is to be a battle. So, I went from inn to inn and said terrible things about Sir Grimbald.
'Sir Grimbald is a toad-eating, good-for-nothing, cow-stealing liar,' I yelled at the first inn.
My words upset no one. I knew the knight was not there.
At the next inn I called out, 'Sir Grimbald is an egg-sucking, chicken-hearted, snaggletoothed thief!'
Again no one became angry. I traveled onward.
At the third inn I shouted, 'Sir Grimbald is a flop-eared, yellow-bellied, bowlegged glob of chicken fat.'
This time someone responded.
'Who dares to insult me?' cried out an angered knight.
'Tis I, the fire-breathing, death-defying fearless green dragon.'
'You are an over-grown swamp lizard,' the knight said with a sneer. 'With one hand tied behind my back I could reduce you to a pile of greasy green scales. Go back to your cave before I snuff your flames forever.'
The knight turned from me and picked up a glass of ale.
'I have heard that you are afraid to battle a dragon,' I said.
The knight spun around and looked me in the eye. 'Take that back or fight to the death!' he demanded.
I blew out enough smoke to fill the room. 'I'll see you Tuesday at daybreak in front of the vine-covered castle.'
I spent the next few days preparing. I roared terrible roars, practiced blowing smoke rings, and rehearsed my victory speech at least 50 times.
News of the coming battle quickly spread. As the sun rose on Tuesday, hundreds of people lined the battle green near the vine-covered castle. Maid Gwendolyn sat beside her father under a large tree.
At one end of the green stood Sir Grimbald, looking evil and mean.
'Boo!' the people shouted.
Sir Grimbald shook his fist at them and then mounted his horse.
I, at the other end of the green, appeared handsome and graceful. I nodded toward the people and blew perfect rings of green smoke.
'Yea!' the people cheered. 'Squash the evil knight.'
'Let the fight begin!' called the referee.
'Gra-a-agh!' I roared like thunder and raced across the green.
Charging, Sir Grimbald met me in the center. With a shrill cry he thrust his lance toward my side. It bounced off.
Sir Grimbald challenged me again. This time he swung a battle-ax at my neck, but the weapon broke in two when it struck my hard scales.
Sir Grimbald attacked once more. Waving a mighty club he yelled, 'Prepare to die, Dragon!' He aimed the club between my eyes.
Flames leaped from my mouth and turned the club to ash.
'Enough of this play,' I decided.
Forming clouds of black smoke and roaring the loudest of roars, I attacked. I knocked Sir Grimbald from his horse and backed him against a tree. As I was about to make the most terrifying performance of all time, the knight ruined it. With a cry of defeat he dropped to the ground. He crawled from his armor, dashed under my belly, and disappeared into the crowd.
And then Maid Gwendolyn stole the show. 'Father, oh father, how can I marry such a coward?' she cried. Her chin trembled and tears streamed down her face.
'Daughter, dear daughter, you are right. Somebody better suited must be found.'
Before Maid Gwendolyn's father could continue, I interrupted. 'Excuse me, Sir, but there is no need to find someone else for your daughter. She now belongs to me.'
'Preposterous!' her father shouted. 'You have no right to her!'
'But I do. I won the battle. Maid Gwendolyn is my prize.' I grabbed the young maiden and held her to my chest.
'Help! Save me!' she screamed.
Maid Gwendolyn's father shouted to the crowd. 'If any man can defeat this dragon, he may marry my daughter.'
The people looked at each other. Would anyone accept the challenge?
'I will fight the dragon,' called a voice from the middle of the crowd.
People stared as the challenger marched forward. 'It's Sir Blazenwood!' they cried. 'He has saved many a lady in distress.'
I put Maid Gwendolyn down and charged Sir Blazenwood. Our battle was quickly fought. The knight lunged a gleaming sword toward my heart. I shifted my body. His weapon slid harmlessly under my arm and broke a small bottle of red dye hidden there. As the dye leaked to the ground, I pretended to be gravely wounded. I roared a few pitiful roars, belched out a cloud of steam, rolled over, and played dead. What a performance!
'My hero!' Maid Gwendolyn called to the knight. She rushed onto the battlefield and into the arms of Sir Blazenwood.
'Yea!' shouted the people.
The men congratulated the winner. The women gathered around me and pretended to look at my fallen body. In whispers they praised my grand acting.
'What color will you paint your scales next?' asked one young maiden.
'What name will you fight under?' asked another.
'How much will you charge to help me avoid a terrible marriage?' asked a third.
After the people left the green, I crept silently to my cave. At the entrance I found twice the amount of pyrocrackers and three times as much dragon-ale as promised.
'Thank you!' read a large note attached to them. 'I will tell all my friends about you. Love, Gwendolyn.'
The old dragon stopped his story and glanced at the young dragon. "Alas, the number of young maidens who needed my help grew smaller and smaller."
"Why?" asked the young dragon.
"Times changed. Gradually, maidens had more say about their marriages. Why today, they even choose their own husbands! Modern women have no use for dragons. I, like all other dragons, am obsolete."
The old dragon smiled sadly. "We dragons haven't seen any reason to leave our caves in centuries."
"But, I don't want to sit in a dark, drafty cave for the rest of my life," said the young dragon. "I want to do something important."
So the young dragon packed her bags and went out in the world to find new uses for dragons.