The Saga Of Wilam Bonbagga

This is the saga
of Willam Bonbagga
and Wolfrin his powerful mage.

Up hill and down;
through village and town
they'd followed the Black Dragon's rage.

In air so befouled
they'd heard the beast howl;
the sun lost behind his thick smoke.

Slogging through mud,
congealed with red blood,
Wolfrin at last his mind spoke.

"Yon village aflame;
he's good at his game,
we'd best rally men to our side.

For little we know
how this battle will go
and a failure we cannot abide."

So down the steep slope
with allies as their hope,
they rode through the gloom to the town.

Their homes all afire;
the townsmen's desire
was to hunt the Black Dragon down.

Bonbagga then spoke
as he pushed back his cloak
to reveal he was a Knight Templar.

"I'll deal him a blow
that will make the beast know
that he has met an exemplar."

So, mounting his horse,
he set off on his course,
with Wolfrin the Mage on his right.

While there on his left,
of weapons bereft,
the townsmen stayed home from the fight.

The lair of The Beast
was a cave in the east
in which a cathedral could stand.

Yet, at it's dark mouth,
these men from the south,
had faith in their powers at hand.

From inside the cave
came a howl from the grave;
a rumbling, earth shaking roar.

That withered the trees
and dirtied the breeze;
hinting at bloodshed and gore.

Bonbagga's sword flashed
as inside he dashed,
with the Dragon at last face to face.

With his aim at Its breast,
he put sword to the test
and instantly wished for his mace.

The Beast picked him up
as you would a young pup
and swung him all this way and that.

While down on the floor
just inside the cave door
Wolfrin in trancelike stage sat.

With a loud whining hum
Wofrin had begun
to cast a strong spell of binding.

It wove in and out,
and all round about,
the Dragon with its sweet notes blinding.


"Let loose from thy mouth
that man from the south
I cast thee to hell
by the words of this spell.
let light spread it's face
on this terrible place! "


Then, out of the sky,
the sun it did spy
and hissing with hatred and spite

and writhing in pain,
the Black Dragon was slain.
The heroes had won the fight.

Now from far and near,
those names you will hear
as the people all tell the old saga.

Of the bravest of men
who fought way back then,
Wolfrin and Wilam Bonbagga.


436 words