The Lambton Worm

Young Robert, the son of Lord Lambton, was very fond of fishing. He would go to the riverbank – not far from the castle flowed the River Wear, and in it swam large, fat fish – cast his fishing rods, and sit all day, waiting for a bite. He even forgot about his lessons.

One day, as he sat on the riverbank, gazing at the swiftly flowing water, he didn’t notice his sister Jane sitting beside him.

“So here you are, Robert! Why did you run off without asking? And you haven’t done your lesson... Father is angry.”

“The fishing is really good today. Look how much fish I’ve caught. It’ll make a fine soup!”

Jane peered into the bucket where the caught fish were thrashing their tails and said:

“There’s something else swimming in there. It’s either a tiny fish or a worm. Isn’t it funny? But it’s so small – not fit for soup or frying.”

Jane examined the strange creature for a long time: its body was long and round, its head flat, and it kept wagging its tail.

“I’m afraid of it. Look at those evil eyes, they’re gleaming.”

“Silly, it’s just a little snake,” said Robert, glancing at the sky: “And it’s really time to go home! Oh, Father will scold me!”

He reeled in his fishing rods, picked up the bucket of fish, and they headed home. They passed a round green hill and approached an old well. No one had drawn water from it for a long time, and the local boys loved throwing stones into it. The siblings stopped by the well and peered into its dark depths. Suddenly, Robert reached into the bucket, pulled out the little snake, and said:

“Why carry home such a tiny thing? Let it swim.” And he tossed it into the dark, still water.

A year passed, then another. Robert turned fifteen. Then Lord Lambton prepared to go to war. Robert begged his father to take him along. His father was afraid and didn’t want to bring his son, but Robert insisted, and they went to war together.

“They won’t return home,” cried Lady Lambton. “I’ll never see my son or husband again.”

Jane comforted her, though her own tears flowed freely.

Lord Lambton did not return; he fell in battle against the Turks. Robert rode home alone; he hadn’t seen his homeland in five years.

The journey back was long, and at last, Robert set foot on English soil. He rode on, hurrying. Soon he reached familiar lands; his heart tightened – soon he would embrace his mother and sister.

But what was this? The fields around lay bare and black, the village reduced to ashes. No human voices, no barking dogs. Robert felt a chill: had Lambton Castle burned down? No, fortunately, the castle stood intact. Robert rode closer – all the windows and doors were tightly shut, the grass in the courtyard waist-high. He rode into the courtyard, and the front door cracked open slightly. His sister peeked out. Robert didn’t recognize her at first: Jane had grown into a beautiful young woman.

“Oh, Robert!” exclaimed Jane, running to meet him. “You’ve finally returned. Save us, dear brother!”

“Save you? From what? What’s happened here, dear sister? And where is Mother?”

“Mother hasn’t left her chambers. If you don’t save us, we’re all doomed.” Jane buried her face in her hands.

Her brother embraced her, and she stopped crying, saying:

“Come to the riverbank; I’ll show you a monster more terrifying than anything in the world.”

The siblings walked along the path leading to the River Wear. There was the green hill, but its summit was bare, and a furrow ran down its slopes, the grass torn away. Soon the river glistened in the sun.

“Look,” Jane pointed.

Robert looked where his sister gestured and gasped in astonishment. In the middle of the river, a rock jutted out of the water, and coiled around it in black rings was a monstrous creature resembling a giant serpent. It raised its head, breathing noisily, and flames shot from its mouth.

“It’s hungry,” whispered Jane. “I hope it gets enough milk today. Every day we bring it milk from nine cows. Once it drinks its fill, it leaves us alone. But if there aren’t nine cows – disaster! It crawls through the countryside, spewing flames. Everything in its path is burned to ashes. You’ve seen it – everything around is dead: the fields, the trees. Our land can no longer sustain us, and many have left. Those who remain are dying of hunger.”

“Where did it come from?” asked Robert.

Jane looked at her brother for a long moment and said:

“It’s the serpent, Robert. The same serpent.”

“What serpent?”

“Remember when we were little, you went fishing and caught a black snake. Then you threw it into the old well.”

“But it was so tiny,” he protested.

“I even said its eyes looked evil. And you said: nonsense, it’s just a little snake. Then you left, and one day I walked past the well, looked inside, and saw something glaring at me with evil eyes from the darkness. I looked closer – a large serpent was coiled at the bottom of the well, but I recognized it by its eyes. I often went to that well afterward. The serpent grew and grew. I was so afraid, but I didn’t tell anyone. Soon it became too big for the well. One day it crawled out and slithered back into the river. Since then, it’s been tormenting us.”

“It won’t torment us for much longer!” exclaimed Robert. “I caught it from the river; I’ll kill it.”

Meanwhile, the serpent slipped off the rock into the water and swam toward the shore. It crawled onto the land, writhing toward the green hill, and when it reached the summit, it coiled its long body around the slopes nine times.

“How can I fight it on top of the hill?” Robert wondered.

Just then, three village lads, pale with fear, approached the hill, each carrying a heavy pail.

“See, they’ve brought the serpent milk from nine cows.” Slowly, the serpent descended the hill.

“Let it drink; that’s when I’ll kill it,” whispered Robert. He waited until the serpent lowered its head into the pail, then silently approached. Jane stepped back, too afraid to move. The serpent drank, noticing nothing. Robert raised his sword, struck with all his might, and sliced the serpent’s soft body in half.

“Oh, Robert!” cried Jane. “You’ve killed the monster!”

But it wasn’t so. From one serpent came two, and both halves thrashed so violently on the ground that Robert quickly stepped back. The two halves slithered toward each other, and – wonder of wonders! – the serpent was whole again. It raised its terrible head and breathed hot flames. Robert’s hair singed, and he had to retreat empty-handed.

The next day, Robert attacked the serpent again. He waited until it slept, then hacked it into three pieces. The pieces immediately fused, and the fire-breathing serpent advanced on the brave man. Robert fought valiantly, but again had to retreat. He was lucky to return home alive.

“It’s hopeless!” Robert cried in despair. “Even if I chop it into a thousand pieces, they’ll just grow back. Who can defeat such a monster?”

“Strength won’t help here,” said Jane. “We need to think of something. There’s an old wise woman left in the village, living at the far end. Maybe she can advise us?”

That evening, Robert went to the wise woman. He entered her house and saw her sitting by the hearth, a black cat purring on her shoulder, another rubbing against her feet. The old woman listened to Robert, thought for a long while, gazing into the fire, and finally said:

If you wish to save us all,
Fight the serpent in the river’s call.

She spoke these words and fell silent. Robert left her with that.

“How can I fight it in the river?” Robert asked his sister. “The current is so fast, and it’s deep in the middle. I can’t even touch the bottom there.”

“What if you stand on the rock? Swim to it while the serpent drinks its milk. When it returns, fight and kill it.”

Robert listened to his sister. The next morning, he went to the riverbank, and the serpent lay in the river as if nothing had happened, coiled around the rock in black rings. At noon, it uncoiled and swam to the shore to drink the milk the village lads had left at the foot of the hill.

Robert jumped into the water and, without wasting time, swam toward the rock. The current was swift, the water cold, and Robert feared he wouldn’t make it. But his arms were strong, and he overcame the current. He climbed onto the rock and waited with a pounding heart for the serpent’s return.

At last, the long black body appeared on the shore – writhing, hurrying toward the water. The serpent saw the rock occupied by a man and stopped. Its evil eyes gleamed, flames shot from its nostrils. It dove into the river and swam toward the rock. Robert drew his sword, ready to battle the monster. But the serpent didn’t want to climb the rock; it just circled around, so fast that it was hard to tell where its head or tail was.

Suddenly, the fire-breathing head emerged from the water. Robert swung his sword, but the serpent wrapped its tail around his leg and began to pull. “Well,” thought Robert, “my time has come.” He strained, swung his sword, and severed the tip of the serpent’s tail.

Then Robert understood why the old woman had told him to fight the serpent in the river. The tail tip fell into the water, and the current carried it away before it could reattach.

The serpent hissed furiously and lunged at Robert, breathing flames. Robert raised his sword with renewed strength and began hacking at the serpent’s black body; each piece he cut off was swept away by the current.

And so, Robert destroyed the terrible serpent. The people of Lambton returned to their homes and lived without fear. The land soon turned green again. Only the very top of the round hill remained bare – a memory of the serpent. Since then, people have called it Serpent’s Hill. They say that even a hundred years later, the furrows – the marks of the nine coils – could still be seen.

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The Lambton Worm

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