Elvis watched the sun flash from the blade of his sword as he removed the dragon’s blood. It was his fourth killing this year and he was becoming bored. Not only he but the king’s subjects were becoming bored. He was no longer a hero but merely a workaday knight doing a job. He dropped his cleaning cloth and picked up his whetstone to sharpen the blade. Laying the sword across his knee the blade flashed once more and he looked up to see Queen Mammary. “Oh, what magnificent breasts,” he breathed without moving his lips. She turned in his direction, alerted by the blade’s flash rather than his unheard words, and smiled. Elvis did not notice; his eyes were so attached to her bosom. The queen crossed the courtyard, disappearing from sight, and Elvis adjusted his erection to a more comfortable position.

“Yes, a splendid brace, I do concur!”

Elvis glanced up from his sharpening. Unabashed he said, “Tessylwyg, how long have you been spying on me?”

“One need not spy when your thoughts speak so loudly, Dragon Slayer,” said the king’s magician. “It is no secret that Mammary’s globes are magnificently globular but to speak as you do is wishing for your own death.”

Elvis sighed, “If I could have but a few hours at her bosom, I would pay a hundred gold coins, yet King Todger has it all for free! Tessylwyg, there is surely no justice in the world.”

Ever wise to profit the magician tugged at the point of his sun-bleached beard as he pondered. “A hundred coins, you say? Elvis, you get paid as much for each dragon you slay, surely you would pay more for say, um, four hours at the queen’s bosom.”

Elvis lay aside his weapon, his eyes bright at the prospect. “Four hours and I would surely have my fill. That would be a once in a lifetime experience and something I would treasure till the day I died. For that I would gladly pay a thousand gold coins!”

“Very well, Dragon Slayer, for one thousand gold coins you shall have your life time experience. Let me retire to my rooms where I shall rake through my grey matter for a magic formula.”

Tessylwyg retreated, leaving Elvis to ponder the queen’s breasts as he polished his pommel until his erection returned.

It was while Elvis was taking his ablutions the following morning that he heard a knock at his roundhouse door. “Who knocks at such an hour? Does not the aroma warn that I am performing a task?”

“Yes, it is with deep regret that I call at such an ill-chosen time, but with such an urgent matter I thought haste would be at a premium, Dragon Slayer. The sooner you are at the queen’s breast, the sooner I can collect my payment!” called the magician through the door.

Elvis tugged up his breeches without wiping himself – Tesslwygs’s services, though expensive, were eagerly sought and difficult to acquire. “Please, wait a few moments,” he called. “Your coins are already warm in my palms!”

“I pray you have washed said palms, Elvis the Dragon Slayer, after you have performed your ablutions.”

Elvis opened the door to the grinning magician. “Judging by your smile you’ve been successful with the magic formula.”

“Indeed,” replied Tessylwyg, “here is the plan.” He produced a small pouch made of lamb’s leather from beneath his Hessian robe and jogged it gently before Elvis. “This powder, which I have instructed a certain lady-in-waiting to scatter upon the queen’s favourite dress, will produce an unbearable rash which can only a dragon slayer can cure.”

“But, Tessylwyg, I am not a physician, I know of no cure!”

“Oh, simple reptile killer, pray hush awhile; I will explain further. Of course I will convince the good Queen Mammary that only the saliva of a top quality dragon slayer will cure her malady. She would of course not know that my  €˜prescription’ would wear off after, say, four hours anyway.”

“And what of King Todger, would he suspect anything?”

“The poor man, though extremely jealous of his queen, is a simpleton and shall believe all that I tell him.”

Elvis had always feared his king, and equally his magician. But the powder that Tessylwyg had concocted was not magic, nor was it medicine. Tessylwyg was no more than a money-grabbing charlatan, thought Elvis. “How do I know your powder will work?”

“Shall we sprinkle some on your bottom hole to find out?” said an insulted Tessylwyg.

“That will not be necessary. I shall, however, keep my coins warm a while longer. But be assured: a dragon slayer is a man of his word.” Elvis snatched the pouch of powder and closed the door.

Whether magical or not Tesslwygs’s powder seemed to work. Elvis gorged himself at Queen Mammary’s magnificent bosom until his jaw ached enough to drop off and his tongue was as dry as ox leather, and still he lapped until finally the four hours were up and the Queen was cured. She covered herself and fluttered her eye lashes demurely.

“Thank you, kind dragon slayer; you have cured me of my embarrassing malady. If the unthinkable were to happen and it was to re-occur I will surely know where to come.”

Elvis drank greedily from a mug of water to moisten his mouth enough to talk. “It was a pleasure to be of service, Ma’am,” he said before bowing. This was more to hide his aching erection than courtesy, “Promise to call on me again; tis always a pleasure to serve the king.”

Elvis collected his tunic and left the Royal Chamber, only to be met by Tessylwyg. “All went well judging by you grin,” said the magician.

“Indeed,” agreed Elvis. “Now sadly my dream is over and I have nothing left to live for.” He stretched his jaw and massaged his jowls with his fingertips.

“Then, you have no reason to withhold payment further,” said the old man narrowing his eyelids.

“Very well,” Said Elvis, reaching into his pocket. “A hundred gold coins, wasn’t it?”

“A thousand! A thousand gold coins! What trick are you playing?”

“Trick, you say. You are the man of tricks. You are no magician, you are a fraud.”

“A thousand coins, Dragon Slayer, or you will be sorry.”

“You forget that I am now not only the Queen’s saviour but hero of the people. What will you do, magician; go to the king and spill all? Here, take one hundred coins and be grateful.” Elvis threw the fistful of gold to the ground, causing Tessylwyg to stoop to retrieve them.

“I’ll take these but not for me, the lady-in-waiting will need paying – again. And be assured, you do still have something to live for.”

Elvis farted loudly into the wind, mirroring Tesslwygs’s empty threat, and scratched his arse as he watched the magician retreat.

The memory of the week before was already fading, however much Elvis tried to maintain his grip upon it. He wished now that he could have behaved better towards Tessylwyg; then maybe he could have paid for further favours. But all his musings were chased away by a pounding at his door.

“Dragon Slayer, Dragon Slayer! Open up; the Queen calls you!”

Elvis’s hand went to his jaw in joyful memory of the ache – the queen’s malady had returned! He opened the door. It was the Royal Guard that greeted him. Elvis’s face was one of false sadness. He sighed, “Please do not tell me that the Queen’s malady has returned.”

“No, Dragon Slayer, your cure has been totally successful and the queen is free of all, ahem, irritation. No, it is King Todger. It seems he has contracted the malady about the, um, nether parts. It is he that requires your services.”

Elvis’s heart was as heavy as a rock as he spied Tessylwyg hovering close by. “This is your doing, magician!” he hissed.

“Tis nothing to do with me, Elvis, but, mayhap, there is justice in the world and at least you now have something to live for.” Tessylwyg touched Elvis’s cheek. “I hope these are in good shape – he is not named King Todger for nowt!”

————

Glen says: “I’m from the UK and Bard of Royal Leamimgton Spa in the English midlands. So far I’ve had over fifty stories published in the small press magazines including Dark Tales, Twisted Tongue, La Fenetre and Wortleberry Press. My debut novel, Waking Lloegr, is an Arthurian comedy fantasy and is looking for a publisher but till then is available at www.lulu.com. Some more of my work can be found at www.freewebs.com/glenniebatchelor“