Time of the Knight (Part One)

A Quest for Redemption

  The sound of rippling river water was augmented by the buzz of insects on a perfect early Summer’s day. Jeanne was unaware that this morning would provide her with a memory that would define her life - she was only nine years old. This was her secret place; where the forest met the river. Suddenly the sparkle of a kingfisher hurtled low along the river. Jeanne giggled with pleasure. Shielding her eyes from the sun she peered into the depths of the water. There was something down there, shimmering in the dappled sunlight. A sword! It was too deep for her to reach but perhaps with a tree branch she could move it closer to the river’s edge. Finding one she returned and began fishing. After prolonged exertions she managed to shift the object a little closer to her. But it was too heavy for her by herself - she would need help. She really didn’t want her brother here in her secret place, but... Suddenly she felt that she was being watched. Looking around she saw nobody, but the feeling persisted. That settled it - she would get her brother Pierre. 

‘Go away, I’m busy. If I don’t get this patch dug then I won’t get paid’ said Pierre truculently.

‘But Pierre, I saw it, I promise. It was made of gold!’ pleaded Jeanne.

‘How do you know, you’ve never seen gold?’

‘I have, in the church, on the statue of Our Lady’

‘That’s just paint, stupid girl’

‘I’m not stupid, you are’ she said indignantly.

‘At least I can write my name. You can’t even spell Pierre’ she stuck her tongue out at him.

‘Alright, alright, little sister’ he laughed ‘We’ll go and find your treasure, just give me a half hour to finish this’

The half hour seemed like an eternity to Jeanne. Finally they approached the river and Jeanne pointed triumphantly at the sword.

‘Told you so’

Pierre got down onto his stomach and peered into the water.

‘Something down there alright - looks like a sword’

Jeanne rolled her eyes impatiently. Pierre was a good, strong, brave young man but he didn’t enjoy any intellectual talents. Although 8 years his junior it was Jeanne who did the thinking - in the absence of their mother. But she too had come to rely on her daughter’s intelligence.

Pierre started to take his clothes off.

‘I’ll have to wade in - the water shouldn’t come up to my mouth’

Shivering with the coolness of the water he carefully made his way in. Taking a deep breathe he ducked under the water. A minute or so later he emerged, gasping.

‘It’s stuck in the mud at the bottom, give me the rope’

Jeanne had foreseen the need for the rope but didn’t comment on the fact as she handed it to him. He ducked under again and emerged spluttering.

‘I think that will hold, I’ll pull it out’

‘Put the rope around that tree first, it’ll make it easier’ she suggested.

Sighing, he did so and they both pulled. Gradually the river bed gave up its treasure and the sword was dragged onto the river bank. 

‘WooHoo’ shouted Pierre as he struggled to lift it. It was a full sized two handed knight’s sword. With a great effort he lifted it above his head with delight only to freeze in that position, wide eyed.

‘What’s the matter Pierre?’ she cried.

He slowly put the sword down and pointed behind her. There, revealed by a shaft of sunlight, was a knight laying up against a tree, motionless. He had been there all the time, but in the shadow of a great oak, only now penetrated by the rising sun. 

‘Is, is he dead?’ asked a trembling Jeanne

‘Not yet, little one’ said the knight.

Chapter 2

  'Who are you?' asked Jeanne.

Her brother tugged at her sleeve, readying for flight.

'My name is Fulk'

'Are you waiting for something?

Her brother intervened: 'Sorry, my Lord, we didn't mean to disturb you'

'You have my sword, what are you going to do with it?'

Pierre walked forward, offering the sword.

'I don't need it anymore, I am not worthy. You may keep it'

Pierre's eyes widened: 'You mean it?'

'I've been watching your sister, she's your Lady of the Lake, the sword is your Excalibur'

Pierre looked confused.

'My brother has not heard the tales of King Arthur'

'He has much to look forward to. You have been educated?'

'My father read to me before he left for the Crusade'

The knight sighed: 'I had no daughter to read to before I left for the Holy Land'

'You are a crusader?' said Pierre excitedly.

The knight looked at the sky: ‘I once had the honour of being a Soldier of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon’

‘A Templar!’ Pierre’s voice echoed among the trees. He turned to his sister:

‘They say Templars can walk on water, slay dragons, talk with angels and fear nothing but God himself’

Jeanne looked thoughtful:

‘I would quite like to believe that but I would have to see it first’ she said, twisting a curl of hair around her finger. The knight laughed.

‘You are wise not to believe everything you hear little one, even from such an honest soul as your brother here’

The knight groaned as he shifted his position against the tree.

‘You need help, get the Lord Fulk some water Pierre’ ordered Jeanne. The water duly arrived and she knelt down beside the knight and put the improvised tree bark cup to his lips. He drank slowly, his blue eyes looking intently upon her. He had dirty long blonde hair and the beginnings of a beard. He might be thirty years old.

‘Will you come home with us Lord Fulk? You need food and rest’ said Jeanne.

‘I was going home to die, but something drew me to this forest. Then I saw you looking into the river and seeing the sword I have forsworn. Perhaps I am here for a reason’

‘Come with us my Lord and I will tell you the reason’ said little Jeanne in an almost adult voice.

Chapter 3

  Jeanne watched the knight sleeping in her mother’s bed. She did not know how they were to carry him to their simple home - until he whistled and a magnificent white warhorse appeared. Luckily everyone in the village was at harvest and so the knight’s arrival went unnoticed. Pierre helped him undress and she guiltily peered through the gap around the door. She caught her breath as she saw the many battle scars adorning his powerful body. They made him some broth and soon he was asleep. She would have to keep awake to warn their returning mother of his presence in her bed! It had been several hours since his arrival and Jeanne pondered why she had said what she did in the forest. Why had she seemed so sure of the purpose of the coming of the Knight? Perhaps her dreams were the reason? In them she had met a knight on the road, but she always thought it was her father returning in victory having been ennobled on the battlefield. But Fulk was most definitely not her father - she had very different emotions towards him. She was not exactly fearful of him but there was something unnerving about his presence. It was like he could stop time itself, nothing moved until he did! The little girl slowly let these thoughts drift her to sleep, to the rhythm of the snoring Pierre in the next room.

  The little house was awakened by a woman’s screams. Jeanne ran from her bedroom followed by Pierre, sporting his great sword. Their mother was standing with her back to the wall, her bright green eyes wide with fear. She embraced her children.

‘There’s a giant in my bed - we must run my darlings’

‘That’s the Lord Fulk, mother - he’s our friend’ said Jeanne.

‘Who?’

‘He’s a knight we met in the forest. He needed our help so we fed him and gave him your bed for the night. He was very tired and hungry - did we do wrong Mother?’

Yolande looked down upon her beloved daughter;

‘Of course not Jeanne, we must help all those who need it. I wish you had warned me, it was quite a surprise you know’

‘Sorry Mother, I tried to keep awake to tell you but…’

‘Where on earth did you get that?’ said Yolande pointing at Pierre’s mighty sword.

‘The Templar gave it to me, he said he wasn’t worthy of it anymore’

‘It’s true Mother’ said Jeanne in response to her mother’s dubious expression.

‘I will be interested to speak with this knight of yours but it seems my screams were not enough to rouse him from my bed. I’ll have to sleep with you Jeanne until the morning and then I will have some answers’

The house settled into silence once more with Fulk being none the wiser for the events his presence had provoked. 

Chapter 4

  Yolande was at the village well when the soldiers of the Comte de Sancerre arrived. Although in her early forties she was still the local beauty and she did her best to avoid the Count’s thugs. Sighing she made her way back from the well trying to ignore the soldiers. It was not to be.

‘Good morning my Lady Yolande’ said Thibaud, the Count’s son.

‘Why do you continue to ignore my invitations? I could insist you know, my father owns this village and all those in it’

‘I am no slave to be ordered at your caprice. You would not dare say such things to me if my husband were here’

‘Ah, but he is not and will never be. Haven’t you heard? The crusade is lost and all the crusaders have been massacred by the Great Satan, Saladin’

‘You lie, God would never allow such a thing to happen’

Thibaud grabbed her in a rough embrace.

‘LET MY MOTHER GO’ 

Jeanne stood, in a wide stance with her arms akimbo. After a moments silence the soldiers began to laugh.

‘Who is this little peasant girl? She needs a beating to teach her some manners’ laughed Thibaud.

‘BY YOUR LEAVE, MY LADY’

Fulk appeared at the doorway, bowing slightly to Jeanne.

Jeanne bowed in return and Fulk advanced slowly towards Thibaud. The soldiers stopped their laughter and a silence descended as the imposing figure walked towards them.

‘What do we have here?’ said Thibaud with a mixture of slight anxiety and arrogance.

‘A pilgrim who was lost and helped by this child and her mother whom you now hold without her permission. Release her you knave, do you have no honour?’

‘Bold words from a man without a sword’ snarled Thibaud.

At that moment Pierre emerged holding Fulk’s former blade, glistening in the morning sunshine. He walked up behind the Templar. Thibaud’s eyes looked at the great sword and then at Fulk’s eyes. His cowardly heart shrank and he released Yolande.

‘Do you know who I am?’ he shouted.

‘Oh yes, I have met many of your type over the years. You are about to tell me of your noble birth and the rights this entitles you to. But nobility resides in the heart and in righteous action -not just in the blood. Leave now and the Devil will have to wait for your soul a little longer, stay and you will meet him this day’

Again Thibaud looked at the sword and after a moment he remounted his horse. 

‘I am Thibaud, son of the Comte de Sancerre and I swear I will have my vengeance against you and this village for the insult I have suffered. Until we meet again Templar scum’

With that he spurred his mount viciously and he and his soldiers were gone.

The crowd of villagers that had gathered murmured their thoughts on the scene they had just witnessed. Yolande walked up to Fulk:

‘Thank you my Lord, Thibaud and his thugs often come here to steal and terrorise us. There is no law since the true Comte de Sancerre went on crusade leaving his wicked brother to rule. You are our saviour, I believe you are called Fulk - I am Yolande, mother of Jeanne and Pierre’

‘Ah, so ‘tis your bed that has given me such blessed sleep. It is I that should thank you’ 

Fulk bowed to her.

Yolande reddened with embarrassment and Jeanne giggled.

Regaining her composure she looked at him once more:

‘I am told you were a crusader, is there any truth in what Thibaud said about the Holy Land?’

‘Come, and I will tell you all I know my Lady - you must decide what truth lies therein’

They walked slowly back to the little dwelling, a trailing Pierre swinging the sword and saying softly to himself:  ‘Have at you, Thibaud the coward’

Continued in Part Two...

Reviews

[ladala6712]

I really like it! I really like the characters dialogue because it sounds authentic of the time period they were in.

[Wez Hardyn]

Thanks, at least I tried to give a flavour of how I imagine they spoke in the Medieval period - an impossible quest for authenticity perhaps.

[Tegon Maus]

Leave now and the Devil will have to wait for your soul a little longer, stay and you will meet him this day’... Some of the dialog is a little stiff for me but this part I liked very much. I can only assume the story takes off from here. I think you could cut these 4 chapters down to a few paragraphs to get to this spot and that would help move the story along a little quicker. It has hints of Robin Hood as well as a Knight's Tell. It will be interesting to see where you take this.

[Tomahawk Joe]

This story is intriguing and has great dialogue good job