In the days when knights fought in faraway lands and wolves hunted deep in the forests, a mysterious creature dwelt in the heart of Sussex at Lyminster. Here, in a corner by the church, a dark and silent pool hid terrifying deeds, for a monstrous beast lurked in the water's depths, emerging by night to ravage the countryside and strike panic into those who lived to tell the tale. Some swore it had iron talons, huge scaly wings and breathed fire, scorching the fields and trees for miles around. Others believed they saw a grotesque serpentine form prowling the banks of the River Arun at dusk.

The dragon was known as 'Knucker', a name only whispered amongst the bravest of folk. Knucker preyed on all that lived on the land, devouring sheep, cattle and men. Children were forbidden to go out after dark and anxious parents closed the curtains early, trying to shut out the fears which made every waking moment a living nightmare. No one dared approach Knucker's grisly lair, where it was rumoured bones lay scattered on the nearby banks. The water, which remained deathly cold all summer long, never froze in winter.

When a new King came to power, the tale of Knucker quickly reached his ears and he promised the reign of terror would last no more. He offered his only daughter's hand in marriage together with half the kingdom to whoever was brave enough to slay the dragon. However, in spite of a reward encompassing such beauty and riches, few were prepared to sacrifice their lives for what would surely be a futile endeavour. Knucker's tyranny continued unabated and the King feared no man would be equal to the challenge.

At about this time a local Knight, returning from adventures in foreign parts, came to hear of the peril which beset his homeland and vowed to deliver the people from the dragon's sway. Undeterred by his mother's pleas and his father's warnings, the Knight set off for Lyminster, determined to find Knucker that evening. A mist hung over Knucker's hole and unearthly vapours rose from from the surrounding marshes. Sword drawn, the Knight felt his way forward, expecting to meet Knucker at any moment.

As the church clock struck six, Knucker emerged from his pool, surprised to find any living creature where only the dead had passed before. They fought long and hard into the night, strength pitted against skill in a bloody contest.

When dawn came, Knucker, overcome with weariness and hunger and unfamiliar with the brightness of daylight, was defeated. A single blow struck a fatal wound into the black depths of his heart.

Rejoicing continued for many weeks as the Knight took the King's daughter to be his bride. Children played in the fields once again and farm workers whistled as they strolled home at the end of the day. The Knucker Hole, however, remains a place of mystery and dread. In the height of summer, the water remains bitterly cold and on the iciest winter day birds will be found splashing in Lyminster pool.

Story retold by Ursula Saunders, © Arundel Brewery 1992 and 2007