The Code of Chivalry

THE CODE OF CHIVALRY

By

Doug LeBlanc


He rode through the bright sunshine, smiling happily. Knights don’t usually ride about smiling happily, but Sir Renault was not your usual knight. He was young, in the prime of his strength, he was without obligations, and he had God on his side. He had dedicated his life to the knightly quest: to ride out in search of wrongs to right. He considered it his divine right to right wrongs, no matter how wrong or how much it took to right it.
He had set out some ten days ago in search of those wrongs, and he would stop at nothing to find them. So far, he had met with little success. There was the case of a lady who screamed incessantly at a butcher for not giving her a big enough piece of meat for her money, but there was nowhere to really apply knightly prowess to such a situation. He tried to mediate between them, but neither seemed especially grateful for his interference. In truth, the lady’s obscene advise as to what he could do with his interference was not only physically impossible, but not at all a lady-like thing to say. He shuddered as he thought of it, and turned his mind to other things.
He had been looking for wrongs since then, but had been unsuccessful so far. One reason for this was the fact that his armour clanged like a collapsing furnace, giving evil-doers plenty of warning of his approach. Another reason was similar to the episode with the butcher and the lady; it was often difficult to distinguish who was in the right and who was in the wrong in any argument. Real crime was usually dealt with through the local magistrates, who were not open with their welcome of brainless young knights roaming the countryside seeking mischief. As often as not these young knights were the cause of more difficulty than they solved; but that was of no matter to them. They would seek out and cure injustice, and they didn’t care what commotion they caused in this pursuit.
Sir Renault was different than the normal knight in this regard, but only slightly. He followed the code of Chivalry to the letter, and without compromise, thus establishing the difference between young and older knights, who quickly learned that compromising the code was not necessarily necessary, but was certainly most convenient when it came to amassing certain gains from their employment. As they were expected to follow the poverty of Christ as part of the code, compromises to the code were accomplished with compromises to the conscience as well.
Sir Renault rode along, singing to himself, which was just as well, for his lack of ability in this area was enough to frighten a troll, but knights were supposed to sing out joyously as they rode along, and he did so. Soon he could perceive an occurrence of some kind up ahead, and spurred his horse to a gallop to discover the source of the trouble.
Within minutes he was near enough to see the difficulty, and it was an amazing difficulty. Three people were in some kind of dispute over a large, squealing pig. As the pig was a recent guest to a mud hole, and the animal was experiencing some reservations about being handled by any one of the participants involved, the gathering was not without its humorous side.
Sir Renault shouted into the din, but was unable to get anyone’s attention. He then tried banging his sword on his shield, and again failed to have anyone notice him. He then took out his horn, and, drawing a great breath, blew a tremendous blast upon it. This time he had the attention of all the participants save the pig, who took advantage of the lull to bolt for greener pastures. Its departure was not met with universal approval.
“Hey, that’s my pig that’s getting away, you oversized oaf!” yelled a woman of great size whose voice could shatter mountains. “Well, don’t just sit there,” she bellowed at the knight’s inactivity, “go after it!”
Sir Renault, being a knight of gentle breeding and habits, was loathe to refuse an order, even from so vulgar a woman, but he was at a loss as to what to do with the pig upon his catching up to it. Still, an order was an order, and he spurred his horse forward to do the lady’s bidding.
As he had anticipated, catching up to the pig was not the task that actually capturing it was. After cornering the animal in a nearby thicket, he dismounted, and walked forward. The pig grunted and squealed in a most distressing way, and Sir Renault advanced threateningly.
Now, normally, given the situation, one would assume the odds for victory would be even, with perhaps a slight advantage to the pig for slipperiness. However, when one of the participants is covered in armour, the odds change rapidly. Sir Renault braced himself, and walked gingerly toward the terrified animal. Giving a great squeal, the pig exercised its only available option, and charged. It went right through Sir Renault’s legs, causing the armed gentleman to lose both his balance and his dignity in one fell fall.
An armed man, once down upon the ground, was almost as helpless as a turtle on its back, so it was with considerable effort that the knight finally made it up to a sitting position. Exhausted by his efforts, he opened his visor and wiped his face free of sweat. It suddenly occurred to him the pig was before him, watching his every move. Behind him he could clearly hear the others, barely able to contain their amusement at his predicament. He couldn’t be sure, but the pig looked greatly amused as well.
Now, it is indeed a difficult thing for a knight to bear the ridicule of fellow human beings, but a pig was another matter entirely. With a squeal, the creature charged at the helpless knight.
Then, much to the spectator’s amazement, the knight drew his sword and killed the pig with one swipe of the weapon. One minute a very funny scene was in full swing, the next an animal lay dead in a pool of blood. The amusement of the spectators vanished.
The large woman stormed up to the knight. “Why did you do that? You’ve killed my pig! You had no right to kill my pig!”
“You told me to,” Sir Renault answered hotly.
“I told you to catch it, not kill it!”
“Well, I wasn’t going to be able to catch it unless I killed it, now was I?”
“He’s got a point there, Esme,” another man stated.
She fumed at the man, then laughed. “Well, yes, I suppose you’re right. Do you think we should invite the gentleman to our house to help eat the pig he’s just killed?”
“As you wish, my dear.”
“Very well, then. Seth, you get the cart and bring the pig and the knight home. I’ll see you there. If we’re having guests for dinner I must make my way to the market.”
She went off while Seth helped the knight to his feet, then escorted him to their humble home. That night they dined on the pig, and welcomed the brave Sir Renault. Afterward he aided them in some small chores, then retired for the evening.
The next day dawned bright and warm. Seth and Esme were up early, while the knight remained abed slightly longer. People with a knight sleeping under their roof tend to lose their normal edge of caution, so it was when three mounted men pulled up outside the gate. They asked, politely enough, for a drink of water from the well. They were invited to do so by Esme, but she was shocked to suddenly find herself surrounded by drawn swords.
“Bring your valuables out, now, and make it fast, or you’ll be sorry,” the leader growled fiercely.
She was so stunned she was utterly at a loss as to what to say or do.
“NOW!” the man yelled, and she turned to do as he bid. Suddenly something flew by her head, and she turned to look behind her. The first man had a knife embedded in his chest, and a look of stunned amazement on his face. The other two looked shocked as well, but they quickly recovered when a man with a sword appeared in front of them.
The first man died within seconds. He was simply too startled to properly defend himself, and fell with a sword swipe to his neck. The other man watched in horror as the blood gushed out from his partner’s neck, and he raised his sword to defend himself.
Sir Renault may not be much to watch in a fight with a porcine foe, but against another armed man he was the picture of fluid, lethal grace. He made three blows at the robber, then a short feint, and the man died of a short thrust to the chest. He fell from his saddle and struck the ground with a thud, gave a deep groan, and died.
The silence was deafening for a moment. Three violent deaths, all within seconds of each other, can have that effect. Esme, not normally known for her reticence, stood staring at the man who had just saved her life.
“Sir knight, we are in your debt,” she told him quietly.
He shook his head. “There is no debt. I have a duty to protect you, and I performed that duty, although it grieves my heart to do so. I would have tried to make them surrender, but you were too close, and I could not take the chance.”
“I thank you, brave knight.”
“I would like to offer my thanks as well, Sir Renault,” a man’s voice said, and Seth was there. “You leave us in your debt. Ask anything of us, and it shall be yours.”
“There is nothing I need from you, save a good breakfast, my friends.”
Esme smiled. “That, at least, you shall have, my lord. Please, await us in the house until it is prepared. My husband and I shall dispose of these bodies.”
He shook his head. “You would do me a greater favour by preparing the food. Good Seth and I shall be equal to the task of burying this rabble.”
She nodded, “As you wish, my lord.”

After a good breakfast, Sir Renault set out once more upon his road. With him he took a sack of fresh apples, a parting gift from Esme and Seth, and one much appreciated. He was given directions by the grateful couple as to the whereabouts of the lord of these lands, and Sir Renault made his way there to pay his respects.
After some few hours travel, he spied a large castle in the distance; undoubtedly the home of King Justin, and his wife, Queen Bethel. A huge imposing edifice, the castle dominated the skyline, as it was undoubtedly intended to. Built high on a hill, the unattractive structure appeared to be the work of a deranged imagination. Gloomy and gothic, it seemed the perfect setting for every good ghost story ever written.
He rode up to the gatehouse and politely inquired after the gatekeeper’s health and the clemency of the weather. The gatekeeper, a sour old man with the disposition of a freshly neutered wildcat, demanded to know his business, and to keep such superfluous comments and inquiries to a minimum, although he said so in much more abrupt language. Sir Renault informed the man that he was a knight- errant, seeking an audience to pay his respects to the king.
The old man grumbled, but he could find no reason to deny entrance to the young knight, so he bid him enter. Sir Renault did so, wishing the man a good day as he passed by. The gatekeeper expressed a wish for the knight to be to some goodly distance removed from his gate, although again, this was expressed in much more uncouth terms.
As he rode into the courtyard, he was greeted by a knight under full arms. “Greetings, sir knight! Welcome to Vantrix Castle!”
Sir Renault bowed low. “Greetings to you, sir knight! I am Sir Renault, a knight-errant, seeking adventure in the world.”
“Say you so? Well, then, we might find some amusement for you hereabouts. We have our share of brigands and thieves in the area. Your aid in helping rid us of them would be most welcome. I am Sir Bowdwin, at service to his majesty, King Justin of Vantrix.” He extended his hand, which Sir Renault grasped and shook warmly.
“I am most honoured to meet you, Sir Bowdwin. I place myself at your service.”
“If you would follow me, then, I shall place you in the hands of the king’s chamberlain. He shall see to your comfort during your stay here.”
“You are most kind, Sir Bowdwin. I am in your debt.”
Together they rode to the keep, and Sir Bowdwin introduced the knight to Sir Ledlipitz, a dry stick of a man, and the king’s chamberlain. ‘Leadlips’ as he was known to the castle folk, was immediately taken with the young man, and for no better reason than the fact that he did not laugh at his name when they were introduced. Sir Bowdwin excused himself, citing the need to watch his charges. Young squires were apt to misbehaviour without a figure of authority present.
Sir Renault thanked him sincerely for his warm welcome, and wished him good day. Sir Ledlipitz then instructed the young knight to follow him, and they proceeded to the stables, where a young boy dressed in the king’s livery took his horse. Another appeared to take the young knight’s luggage, and they made their way into the castle.
As they were climbing the stairs, a voice rang out, hailing Sir Ledlipitz in an unwelcome manner.
“Hey, Leadlips! Hold up!”
The chamberlain groaned to himself, but was noticed by Sir Renault. Just then a middle-aged man ran up to them. He was dressed in colourful robes, and had an amused look on his face.
“Ah, there you are, you stone-lipped wonder, you. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Why?” he demanded. “Have you run out of other people to abuse?”
“Now, now, Leadlips, there’s no need for sarcasm, however true it might be. Say, who’s your tin-plated companion?”
“Oh, forgive me. Sir Renault, this is the king’s jester, Basic. Basic, this is Sir Renault, a knight newly arrived here in Vantrix Castle.”
“Welcome, Sir Knight! It’s good to have you here with us! We’ve need of someone to frighten away the crows from our grain fields!”
Sir Ledlipitz was about to respond, but Sir Renault forestalled him. “Indeed, my lord. One would think your sour humour would serve that purpose admirably. In truth, I have no doubt as to your ability to frighten away any known pest common to this area, as they would recognise that another pest had already taken up residence in their place. Ah, I believe you were leading me to my rooms, Sir Ledlipitz?”
“Indeed I was, Sir Renault. Please, follow me, and forgive the interruptions.”
As the both walked away from the fuming jester, the young knight continued on. “I quite understand, my lord. In our country such vermin often afflict us, but we do not tolerate them. Perhaps you should recommend some local exterminator to your king.”
Sir Ledlipitz laughed; he couldn’t help it. “Most droll, Sir Knight! I see you are as able to defend yourself in the court as you, no doubt, are in the courtyard.”
He bowed his head in acknowledgement of the compliment. “I have found myself needing prowess in both places during my life, my lord. I am no stranger to battling with my wits as well as under arms.”

After he had been shown to his rooms, Sir Renault rested for a few hours, then was escorted to the audience chamber to meet the king and queen of the land. He wore his best doublet and hose for the occasion, and his finest shoes. Thus clad, Sir Ledlipitz escorted the young paladin to the meeting.
A short knock brought a command to enter, and the chamberlain entered with a bow. “Your majesties, may I present Sir Renault, a young knight seeking adventure in our country.”
The young knight bowed low before the king and queen, who greeted the young man warmly. “Sir Renault, we welcome you to our fair lands,” the queen stated formally.
“Your presence here brings honour to our court, Sir Knight,” the king greeted warmly. “Welcome to Vantrix!”
Sir Renault bowed formally, deeply moved by the reception. “I thank you for your welcome, your majesties, and pledge my loyalty to your service. Your wish is my command.”
Both royal personages bowed their heads in acceptance of the young knight’s vow, then invited him to a less formal setting to refresh themselves and become better acquainted. That evening they all dined together, along with other members of the court. Sir Bowdwin was also present, as was the jester Basic, who entertained them with stories, songs and feats of juggling. The feast lasted long, and the moon was high in the night sky when they finally retired to their beds.
Sir Renault opened his door, and lit the lamp closest to him from the candle he carried to light his way. He turned, and much to his surprise, saw the jester sitting in his room!
Such was his surprise that a blade was in his hand almost without thinking. Basic put up his hands in surrender, but the young knight had secreted the blade within his robes just as quickly as he had withdrawn it.
“What do you want here?” he demanded speaking more harshly than he intended.
The jester rose slowly from his seat. “I merely thought we should perhaps discuss certain, ah, difficulties with this court. You know almost nothing of the situation here, and you should know what you’re letting yourself in for before you get further involved.”
“Indeed. And why should I concern myself with anything a mere jester has to say? You’re as likely here to amuse yourself on my behalf than out of any real concern.”
Basic grinned. “Well, that is normally a very astute and accurate observation, but not so in this case.” Suddenly the smile vanished from his face.
“Are you aware of the Vow of Distrance?” he demanded, with no trace of humour in his face.
Taken aback by the sudden change, he could only nod his acquiescence.
“I place myself under the Vow now, at this time, to tell you of the gravest danger here. Will you listen?”
Sir Renault thought for a moment, then gestured for the jester to be seated, and took a seat himself. “Very well. I will listen, but I will weigh the import of your words, and the decision as to my actions concerning your words must be mine alone to decide.”
Basic sat forward. “You are a knight sworn to the Code, you must do what is right, regardless of your feelings in the matter. You know this is so.”
Sir Renault nodded, suddenly fearful. The jester’s seriousness warned him that the matter about to be broached was not to be taken lightly.
“Very well, then. Unfortunately, I am under my own oaths, so I cannot fully explain everything. You must make use of my warnings, or only evil will come of it.”
“Say on.”
The jester rose from his place, and began to pace about the room. “Sir Knight, things at this court are not all that they seem. Much that may seem dark is light, and much that may seem light will be dark. The safest place may contain deadly danger, and the places of peril may have havens. There is life in death here, and death in life, for those who have sworn oaths. I am one of these. My death would bring great comfort, yet my life brings great danger to others. Those who are dark need my darkness, but those who are dark fear my light.”
The young man waited for more, but the jester had nothing else to say. “Is that all?”
“Isn’t that enough?” he demanded angrily.
“Well, I do have one question.”
“You may ask it, but I may not be able to answer.”
“What in God’s Great Word are you talking about?”
The jester laughed. “Well, I don’t blame you for asking that, but I cannot answer. You must decide for yourself what my words mean, and decide for yourself what you are to do about them.”
“If you’re going to sneak into my room at night, swear an oath then recite pointless riddles at me, you can hardly expect me to take you seriously, despite your oath. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to rest.”
Basic rose to leave but hesitated with his hand on the door. “Sir Renault, I urge you, I beg you, in all sincerity, to leave this place at once, and never return. If you do, all will be well with you. If not, you will be faced with a horror unlike any you have ever known in your life. Is that plain enough for you?”
Sir Renault was surprised at the jester’s vehemence, but he had his own way of dealing with trouble, and that did not include running from it. “Good night, my lord,” he stated firmly.
“Good night, then,” he said dejectedly, “but I am no lord. You’ll find that out soon enough, I guess.”
The door closed, and the young man was alone with his thoughts. He quickly prepared, and was soon fast asleep, refusing to even think about the strange warnings and messages the jester was giving him. The words he said, however, would haunt him for some time to come, and the day would dawn when he would most bitterly regret not heeding that warning.

Word came the next morning of a raid by a band of outlaws on a small farming community some twenty miles away. Sir Renault begged permission to join the investigation, and the king granted it willingly. They rode out an hour later, a force composed of some fifty men at arms. Sir Bowdwin, the knight Sir Renault had met the day before, led them. As they rode along the two became better acquainted, and were soon fast friends. Their loud laughter and shining courage lent support to the others travelling with them, many of them younger, more inexperienced knights. Indeed, by the time they had arrived the bandits had fled. They were still in the vicinity, and the king’s force set out after them at once.
They rode for more than three hours with only a brief rest stop, and they managed to finally catch sight of the bandits. Much to Sir Renault’s utmost surprise, Sir Bowdwin broke off the pursuit. The force would have to return immediately to the town to aid the survivors.
Sir Renault, like most knights, was conditioned not to question orders, and he did not do so now. They turned and headed back to the town, and Sir Renault did not think of Sir Bowdwin’s orders as anything other than orders. But once they were on their way back to the castle, the questions he didn’t want to think about appeared in his mind. He quickly dismissed them, but they persisted in haunting him. Why did they turn back just when the culprits were in sight? They easily could have overtaken them, but the commander did not even try to do so. Then he realized that Basic’s riddles from the night before were behind his wondering, and he angrily put them out of his mind. He succeeded in this, but the seeds were sown.
When they returned to the castle Sir Bowdwin was asked to report to the king, and that worthy knight kindly asked Sir Renault if he would accompany him, and he gladly accepted. Together they met the king in his audience chamber, in an informal setting. Wine was served by the servants, and, at a nod from the king, they departed the room and left them alone.
“Well, Sir Bowdwin? How bad was the attack?”
“Bad enough, sire. We lost cattle and sheep, and the public purse was stolen from the local bursar’s office.”
The king’s eyes seemed to light up at this, but he quickly caught himself. “That’s terrible!” he growled. “Do you have any idea who the culprits are?”
Sir Bowdwin shrugged. “Black Hugh, of course. Who else would dare attack us like this?”
“Black Hugh! I want that criminal found and hung, do you understand me!” the king swore angrily.
“Of course, your majesty,” Sir Bowdwin answered. “We’ll catch him soon, I promise you.”
The king turned to Sir Renault. “And you, Sir Knight. What was your opinion of the damage this renegade has done?”
“Sire, I find that the worst damage lies in the five people killed by this criminal. As God is my witness, I shall not rest lightly until he is captured and brought to the king’s most high justice.”
The king nodded approvingly. “Good. That is all for now. Let me know how you’re proceeding against him.”
He bowed, and Sir Renault bowed as well. “As you wish, your majesty,” Sir Bowdwin stated, as he bowed his way to the door. Together they withdrew.
“Well, that’s done,” Sir Bowdwin told him. “He’s not as angry as he usually is after such reports. Let’s head for the buttery, I’m famished.”
“Very well, my lord. Lead on, I shall follow.”
As the walked, Sir Renault had many questions, especially about this ‘Black Hugh’ he had heard about.
“Well”, Sir Bowdwin answered to his inquiry; “he’s been a viscous outlaw around these parts for better part of three years now. We’ve almost caught him several times, and several times his band has led us into an ambush.”
“Is that why we didn’t pursue his men when we came up with them today?”
The knight looked at him in surprise. He seemed taken aback by the question. “Yes, it is. I recognised their style. I must say, though, Sir Renault, I didn’t think you would be one to question my orders. It is most unchivalrous of you.”
Sir Renault turned white. “Forgive me, please, my lord. It was not intentional, I assure you, and I promise nothing of the kind shall happen again.”
Sir Bowdwin waved his hand. “No need for apologies, my lord. We al have these little lapses from time to time. The matter is forgotten.”
“My thanks, Sir Bowdwin. “
“Now, let us see to lunch. “I’m famished.”
“Please excuse me, Sir Bowdwin, but I seem to have lost my appetite. I wish to rest after this morning’s exertions.”
“Of course, my lord. I shall see you this afternoon in the courtyard. Perhaps you can assist in the proper training of our young squires.”
“I shall be honoured to, my lord. Until then.”
They bowed to each other, and parted ways, Sir Bowdwin to his lunch, and Sir Renault to retire to his room to think over his faux pas. He swore he would not make such a mistake again.

Black Hugh made three more strikes in the next two weeks, and the king’s public anger grew in leaps and bounds. Once he publicly recriminated Sir Bowdwin for his lack of success in dealing with him, something that King Justin was not normally wont to do. Basic the jester grew more outrageous in his comments and antics as the days dragged on, annoying more and more people, so much so that even the king found himself having to reprimand his jester. Basic simply took these reprimands in stride, and usually had the king laughing again within minutes.
Sir Renault’s popularity at court was remarkable. He was the centre of attention everywhere he went, and was greatly admired by all. Unfortunately, Queen Bethel took a special interest in him, and a few times he found himself in a position to have his knightly virtue compromised. Fortunately, nothing untoward occurred at such times, although such was the queen’s beauty and persuasiveness that it was a near thing on more than one occasion. Sir Renault’s guilt at the temptation was deep-seeded; while the queen seemed to be quite undisturbed by her attempts at adultery.
Then something happened to change everything at court. There came a night when Sir Renault found himself unable to sleep, bothered by restlessness. He wandered the castle’s confines, looking for nothing save to tire himself out so that sleep would come more easily. As he was wandering, he chanced to look out the window and noticed something strange. Sir Bowdwin was mounted on a horse, but not his own. He was dressed in regular clothes, and wore a wide-brimmed hat. Intrigued, Sir Renault followed him.
Sir Bowdwin made his way through a postern gate of the castle, not realising he was being followed. Sir Renault stayed as close behind as he could, but there was only a half moon that night, and it was difficult to see the way as they entered the forest.
The lateness of the hour may account for what happened next, the sleep in the good knight’s eyes, and the difficult terrain he tried to traverse. Normally, such things did not happen to Sir Renault, but this was not an ordinary night. Sir Renault was watching his quarry enter a thicket, and was awaiting his re-emergence. The thicket was a small one, and he should have come out the other side in few seconds, but after five minutes had passed, Sir Renault began to panic.
He decided to try to enter the thicket himself, hoping to find Sir Bowdwin before it was too late. A quick search of the brush, however, soon brought the situation into clarity. Sir Bowdwin had obviously left the thicket through another way, and Sir Renault had no idea which way that might be. He was in a forest far from home, late at night, with no way of knowing how to return to the castle, or how to get help. Much as he hated to admit it, Sir Renault was totally lost.

There are those to whom wandering around in the dark is an adventuresome thing, just the right sort of exercise to give an edge to one’s appetite, and add zest to one’s life. Sir Renault, although he would never admit it publicly, was not such a one. He was cold, he was afraid, and his backside was itching like nobody’s business, which, of course, it was. This last point may not sound like much, and to most people, it’s a minor inconvenience. A good scratch, however aesthetically displeasing, can settle the difficulty. However, when one is encased in steel, such a solution is far from easily accomplished. In such a case, there was no option but to simply sit and endure.
Sir Renault sat, and endured. He did neither happily. He deeply regretted wearing his armour at all, but he never went anywhere without it, so as to accommodate the body to its plethora of discomforts. He wandered about, lost as a mole in a maze, wondering how best to keep his curiosity under control to avoid future escapades of this sort. Had the effort not been utterly impossible, as accoutred as he was, he would have kicked himself severely.

Wandering aimlessly through the woods, not seeing another living soul, Sir Renault eventually saw the most wonderful sight he had ever seen in all his days: the light from a fire. He rode gladly toward it, ready to call out, but something made him hesitate. He rode closer, hoping to see what was happening, when he realised it was a band of horsemen riding through the woods. A warning sounded in him: there was something wrong about this. He thought about it, and was fairly sure he was seeing the band of outlaws that had struck the day before. He rode closer to them, loosening his sword in his scabbard as he went.
Sure enough, the band came to a village, and charged to the attack. There were screams in the night, and flames were seen amongst the houses. The ground ran red with blood in the smoky torchlight.
The attack was going according to the usual plan, but suddenly took a turn for the worst. Without warning a fully armed knight attacked, knocking men from their horses, and killing the few well-armed men they had. The leader, embroiled as he was in the attack, didn’t notice the knight until he looked up from killing an innocent peasant. Suddenly he recognised the knight, and tried to flee.
Sir Renault charged into the crowd of bandits, brandishing his sword. Three of them went down before they knew what was happening, horses squealing in fright. Two others turned on him, and he was forced to kill one, but managed to disarm the other before knocking him from his horse. A third armed man turned on him, and after a brief flurry of flying steel, swept the robber’s head from his shoulders. One of the bandits seemed to realise what was happening, and bolted for freedom. He might have made it, save that a villager, outraged at the attack, threw a large stone at his head as he rode by, knocking him senseless form his horse.
Sir Renault laughed, and raised his sword in salute to the man, who flushed at the tribute, and smiled in return. The young knight then returned to the battle, but the others turned and ran. Some were caught by the enraged townsfolk, but those did not easily capture mounted men on foot, and many succeeded in escape.
Sir Renault quickly organised the townsfolk into parties to extinguish the fires, a task he himself took a hand at. The captives were rounded up and brought to the town square, where Sir Renault would deal with them later. The brave young knight hauled water until all the fires were out, thus endearing himself to the townspeople forever. Never before had a member of the nobility aided them in such a way, and their gratitude knew no bounds.
Finally the flames were all extinguished, and the strong young knight rested with the others. When they brought out food and drink he partook of the humble fare, thus earning even more respect from the people. Few nobles would have eaten with such peasants, and relished the meal as well.
“I thank you, my friends,” he told them after the food was gone. “An excellent repast, but I must depart. The king must be told of this attack, and the prisoners questioned.”
“We are in your debt, sir knight,” answered a large man he took to be a leader of the community. “Our lives and homes are safe because of you.”
The people cheered loudly, and the knight bowed his head.
“It is my privilege and honour to aid such fine people, my friends. Now, I must return to the king at once to report our success. Have all the criminals been rounded up?”
One of the men laughed. “Those still alive, my lord. We have them bound in the town square.”
“Good. Now, if one of you would be good enough to lead me there, I will be on my way.”
“Certainly, my lord,” several answered. “This way, if you please.”
They all walked with the knight to the town square, arriving there in a few short minutes. Sir Renault went over to the prisoners to examine them, and as he did so spied one that he could not believe. He went closer and stared hard at the man. He could not believe his eyes.
He turned to the townsfolk. “Surely there must be some mistake! This man is no robber, no thief! How can this be?”
“There is no mistake, my lord. These are all the men that were attacking us. This one is their leader, the bandit known as Black Hugh. He’s been seen before.”
“Black Hugh?” he asked in shock. “It can’t be, it can’t ..., be...”
“Indeed, he is, my lord. I’ve seen him before myself,” stated another, “when my town was burnt to the ground by this animal.”
Sir Renault shook his head. He felt like the world had come crashing to a halt. The man he was looking at, the man they had identified as Black Hugh, was none other than Sir Bowdwin himself! He had no idea what to say or do, or how to proceed.
“Why?” was all he could ask.
Sir Bowdwin looked up. “That is not your concern,” he answered coldly. “A knight’s...”
Without warning Sir Renault’s fist caught him and smashed him to the ground.
“Don’t ever speak to me of knighthood, you villain! You have besmirched the honour of all good knights that have ever lived!” the young knight shouted. “You will not speak to me of knighthood! “
Sir Bowdwin spat. “You simple-minded idiot! Do you think you’re the only one ever to follow the code of chivalry? So many of us started out the same way as you, but we quickly learned the truth. No one cares! No one gives a damn about your stupid ways and rules. The world is made up of the strong and weak. The strong rule, the weak obey. There is nothing to your ridiculous code of chivalry, nothing!”
Sir Renault shook his head. “I would expect such words of corruption from one fallen as far as you have. You have lost your way, my lord. If you would follow my lead, I can help you find it again.”
Sir Bowdwin laughed. “My, you are naive, aren’t you?”
Sir Renault’s fist struck him again, but he only laughed.
“There, you see? Does not the Code say it is foul to strike an opponent when he is helpless? And is this not the second time you have done so? How many more compromises will you make? How many more times will you break your sworn oath when it suits your needs? So began my corruption, so begins yours. Once compromised, you go on until nothing of your oath has any meaning anymore.”
Sir Renault looked troubled by these words, but then he thought of something. “What you say has some grain of truth to it, but not much. The Code is not for us to follow to perfection, but to constantly strive for. The ideals are worth striving for always, and those ideals are the ones I live by, and live for. In proof of this I will give you what you do not deserve, a chance to prove your words in single combat, here, now, in this place.”
Sir Bowdwin looked shocked, then shook his head. “I bear no armour here. I cannot agree to your request.”
“It wasn’t a request. I will remove my armour, and we will battle with sword and shield alone.”
The knight shook his head. “I refuse.”
“Then I will hang you from the nearest tree, as befits a common criminal.”
“I demand to be returned to the castle. Only King Justin has the right to pass judgement on me.”
“Very well, then. We return to the castle at once.”
A lady from the village stepped forward. “My lord, please, may I speak?”
Sir Renault nodded. “Of course, my lady. Say on.”
“My lord, this man has been captured three times now, and each time he returns to terrorize us. Would not the same thing happen once more?”
Sir Renault frowned. “Perhaps there was a lack of evidence against him. This time I am an eye witness to his misdeeds.”
“Not so, my lord, for my father also was an eye witness. He spoke against Black Hugh in the court of the king, and was dead the following day, also by Black Hugh’s hand.”
Sir Renault turned to Sir Bowdwin. “Is this true?”
He shrugged. “Of course. You don’t believe the king would take the word of a peasant against the word of a noble, do you?”
Sir Renault thought about this. “This may be true, I do not know. For now, I reissue the challenge. We will fight until one of us is dead.”
“Again, I refuse,” he demanded proudly.
“Does anyone here have a rope handy?” Sir Renault asked without taking his eyes from Sir Bowdwin.
Several offers were forwarded, and the senior knight bowed his head. “Very well, my lord. It seems your foolishness is about to cost you your life. Let us proceed.”
Sir Renault began to remove his armour, assisted by a young man from the town. Sir Bowdwin was released from the group of bandits, and had his sword returned to him. When all was in readiness, they approached each other across the square. He spoke quickly to the townsfolk before the duel began.
“If I should fail in this battle, hang all of the criminals. If anyone questions this, quote my direct orders.”
“As you wish, my lord,” they responded formally.
The duel began, and a bloody and horrible conflict ensued. Without armour, both combatants were soon covered in blood. However, Sir Renault was the younger of the two, stronger, suppler, and he believed greatly in his cause. Such should not be a factor according to Sir Bowdwin’s ideas, but it was, notwithstanding. After half an hour Sir Bowdwin lay upon the ground, mortally wounded. His sword lay shattered beside him, and blood flowed open from his wounds. He beckoned Sir Renault over, and that gallant knight buried his sword in the ground, and knelt by his dying opponent’s side.
“You and your ideals have carried the day, Sir Renault,” he whispered through his agony. “I wish you well.”
“I thank you,” Sir Renault responded coldly and formally.
“I will shatter your illusions once and for all, by way of revenge. I was ordered to rob these villages by the king himself. He is the biggest thief in the land.”
Sir Renault went white. “That’s a lie!” he cried.
“No, it’s the truth. I swear to God, I swear on every knightly oath I have ever taken. Part of the oath is obedience one’s king. What is one to do when the king himself orders banditry and robbery? How does one follow the code when that happens?”
Sir Renault didn’t answer. He was unable to.
“Farewell, Sir Renault. You’re a decent man, and a worthy knight. Leave this land, if you value your...”
But he was unable to complete what he was about to say. In that hour Sir Bowdwin, Knight to King Justin, left the world. Sir Renault, also a knight to the king, was left with the taste of ashes in his mouth as the world he believed in crumbled away.

Sir Renault rode into the castle that morning, bloody, beaten, and feeling like he had aged ten years in the past hour. Sir Ledlipitz greeted him at the door.
“Why, Sir Renault, what has happened? You look like you’ve been through a war by yourself. Here, let me get you a hot bath and the some breakfast. Page!” he called out.
Soon he was immersed in a hot bath, with food laid out on a table beside him. He had no appetite for it, so it lay ignored. He asked the page to summon Basic, the jester to him.
A knock at the door heralded his arrival. Sir Renault bade him enter, and he did so. He came in hesitantly, and Sir Renault told him he was welcome, and that they needed to talk.
Basic entered, looking somewhat grim for a jester. “I take it you’ve been busy solving my riddle.”
Sir Renault nodded slowly.
“I also take it that’s Sir Bowdwin’s blood you’re washing off.”
“Most astute of you, Lord Basic.”
The jester merely shrugged. “It is as I have anticipated. You certainly can’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”
The young, disillusioned knight turned his gaze to him. “Who are you and how do you know about this?”
He hesitated before answering. “Once, long ago, I was a knight, like yourself. I, too, tried to maintain my oaths against such a king and in such a place. I failed. He found my weaknesses, my vulnerable points. He exploited me, used me to his every advantage. When he was finished with me, I was nothing; a shell, a puppet to be used, then discarded. He found me amusing, so I became his jester.”
“I would rather have died!” Sir Renault responded promptly.
“So would I, but I have a wife and three children who would die with me. As it is they live in comfort, even luxury. It’s a small price to pay for my humility. I think of it as the humility asked of us by the knight’s oath.”
Sir Renault looked on at the man he had so sorely underestimated, humbled by his nobility. “Can you forgive me?” he whispered as a tear fell from the corner of his eye.
“There is nothing to forgive. You couldn’t have known. No one knows here, save for Leadlips. He’s as evil as the king and queen are.”
“Is he the one who fears your light?”
He gave a small laugh. “You are quick, aren’t you? Yes, you are right. He doesn’t trust me at all, never knowing when I’ll decide to take steps against the evil here, because I’m not really a part of it. Even now I may be killed for saying these things to you.”
“Are you serious?” Sir Renault asked in alarm.
“Yes, of course. This evil has been here for more than ten years now. It began slowly, then grew into the nightmare we now have. That’s why I begged you to leave; no one comes here without being touched by the evil.”
“What can I do?”
The jester shrugged. “Nothing, now. The king will know you’ve killed Sir Bowdwin. He’ll use that against you, and try to convince you to take Sir Bowdwin’s place.”
“NEVER!”
“You’ll die then. You’ll not be given a choice.”
Sir Renault thought for a while, then said, “You’d better go now. I’ll do my best to save you, but I must rid this place of the evil.”
“You can forget that, my friend. Others have tried, and others have failed. The king butchers those who thwart him. It is a cruel and lingering death.”
“I’m not afraid of death.”
“I know. You’re a knight, one of the pure genuine knights, a rare commodity in this fallen world. I’d hate to see your death happen for no reason. I must go now. Leave, if you can, but I fear it ‘s too late. Farewell.”
“Farewell, my friend. Thank you.”
Basic left, leaving Sir Renault to think long and hard about what to do next.

The summons came a short timer later, and Sir Renault was ready. When he was led into the king’s audience chamber, the king was in an obvious rage.
“Sir Renault, sit down. We have much to discuss.”
“Greetings, your majesty, indeed we do.”
Sir Renault calmly sat down, and waited for the king to begin.
“My people tell me my jester has been to see you, Sir Renault. I wish to know what was said.”
“He informed me of an opportunity, your majesty, and he advised me not to miss out on it.”
The king started, obviously flustered by what he heard. “What do you mean?” he demanded.
“You know as well as I. Let us not play games here, your majesty. I know what has been going on around here. I know you are behind the raids on the villages, and I know you are making a huge amount of money from it.”
The king looked at him in amazement. He had not expected this, and the admission caught him off balance. “And having made this discovery, what do you intend to do about it?”
The young knight shrugged. “I want in, of course. You need a new ‘Black Hugh’ character, and I’m just the man for the job. Sir Bowdwin’s death has presented me with the opportunity, and I want it. Why do you think I killed him?”
The king stared in amazement, then laughed. “This tarnishes the great reputation you have, Sir Renault.”
He shrugged his indifference. “Reputations are all well and good, my lord, but wealth rules the world, as you well know. Being a knight is a costly enterprise, and I would like some monetary reward for my efforts.”
The king nodded, obviously delighted with what he was hearing. “Ah, then we understand one another. I had not thought this would be so easy.”
“Indeed, my lord, it is not so easy. You must understand that I want my share of the money, which is considerably more than you were paying Sir Bowdwin.”
“What? Why should I?” the king asked, startled.
“Because I can run your operation far better than you can. You kept Black Hugh alive far too long, so much so that the local villagers knew who he was. You need to kill off the villains every so often, just to keep everyone honest.”
The king frowned. “What do you mean, ‘kill him off’? How do you kill him off if he’s you?”
“Simplicity in itself. I kill off someone dressed up as me, then ‘Black Hugh dies, and we then create a ‘Purple Terror’, or a ‘Yellow Bee’, or something else equally ridiculous. You and I maintain wonderful reputations for defeating a whole list of imaginary bad guys, all the while gaining from the crimes of these imaginary bad guys.”
The king considered this, and the more he considered, the more he liked the idea. “Sir Renault, you are going to be a very rich man, and I am going to enjoy every minute of it. Let us drink to our new venture!”
“I would be delighted to, my liege.”

The king introduced his new accomplice to a member of his staff that Sir Renault had not met before. Carnis was a man of middle age and large girth, a creature of great intelligence and porous sweat glands. Sir Renault viewed the profusely sweating man with something akin to loathing, only not quite so pleasant. Nevertheless, he greeted him warmly, and with a vigorous handshake. Together the three of them began to plot the fleecing of the entire country, a subject that was close to the hearts of two of the three, while the other was thinking of delightful variations on ways to kill the other two. The meeting lasted a long, long time, and when it was done Sir Renault was deeply involved with the depths of the king’s evil. Although he accepted the necessity, he would never, ever forget the feeling. He found himself understanding the need for forgiveness.
Two nights later, the beginning of the first part of the plan was put into effect. Sir Renault, disguised as the Purple Terror, made his way through the castle in the depths of night. He entered the lower regions of the castle, as he was supposed to, then the guard’s area, as he was supposed to, then the dungeon area, as he was not supposed to. Within seconds he had killed three guards, and made his way into a secret place few people knew about. Here a family was kept under guard, a family who were quite amazed to be awakened late at night by a man who appeared to be a masked bandit. He held a sword at them, and ordered them to move out at once, and not to make a sound.
They made it through the castle, then out through the secret gate used for just such purposes, and into the cool night air. The masked man kept them moving until they reached the stables. Here the young knight took a coach and a team of horses, and told the family to enter quickly. Soon they were riding swiftly through the night, but not to the place where he was supposed to be.
Without warning they stopped, seemingly into the middle of nowhere. The masked man ordered them out of the carriage, and they did so. They were very, very frightened, and had no idea of what was going on. The woman, convinced they were about to be killed, began to plead for her children’s lives.
“For God’s Sakes, woman, stop that caterwauling!” the man hissed. “We’re not alone in these woods, and you might just get us all killed!”
The woman became silent, but was still just as fearful. The children huddled together in fear. The masked man stood still, and listened intently. Slowly they could make out a sound, and it sent a thrill of fear through everyone.
“Quickly,” he told the woman, “you and your children get behind the bushes. Don’t make a sound until I tell you. Hurry!”
They did as they were told, and soon all was quiet, save for the sound of the approaching horse. The masked man stepped out to meet it. Within seconds it appeared around the bend.
When he saw the man appear before him, the rider reigned in his horse hard, barely missing the masked figure before him. “Who the devil are you?” the rider demanded angrily.
“The appointed one, my lord.”
Basic the jester slipped from the horse’s back, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Sir Renault? Is that you?”
The masked man laughed. I didn’t think I ‘d be able to fool you, Basic. I’m sorry about the mystery, but it was the best I could come up with on short notice.”
“Mystery is right! A note slipped under my door, a death threat, this horse left for me outside the castle. What is going on?”
He gestured. “Come, and I will show you.”
Basic followed him a short ways, then they both stopped. “It’s all right, my lady, you can come out now.”
She did so, shyly at first, then blinking when she saw who was before her. “Carbor? Is that you?”
Basic the jester, Basic the king’s fool, stared in disbelief. “Mirasha?”
Suddenly they were together, crying openly, hugging and kissing each other over and over and over again. Sir Renault felt his own eyes water at their joyful reunion. Time, however, would not permit a longer one.
“I’m sorry, my friends, but there’ll be time for this later. You’ve got to get away from here as fast as you can. I don’t know how far behind the pursuit is, but it isn’t far enough, believe me. You must leave here at once.”
They both stared in disbelief. “What are you saying?” Basic finally gasped.
“I’ve freed your family, my friend, but you must go now! There is no time left! Get in the carriage and ride fast and hard. A few hours should put you far enough ahead of King Justin’s men that you should be able to make the borders easily, probably around this time tomorrow, but you must go now!”
“My whole family?” Basic gasped, stunned. “The children...”
“We’re here, Daddy!” a little girl’s voice cried from behind the bushes.
“Jum-jum!” he cried, weeping hysterically and holding the little girl in his arms. The other children all came out then, and wife and offspring smothered him.
“Hurry, now, there isn’t much time. Here, take this,” he said, handing them a well-filled pouch. “There’s enough gold there to keep you and your family well for several months, if need be, but you must go now!”
Suddenly Basic became quite dejected. “It’s no use, my friend, although my heartfelt thanks are yours. We could never escape. Why should we even try?”
“Because soon they won’t be looking for you. I’m going to give them something far more important to think about today, but it will take time to put into action. Trust me, a few hours from now nobody’s going to be thinking about you at all. Now go!”
“Basic did not move. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to end it, once and for all. It’s time; it’s past time for this evil to be put to rest. Ride now, and leave me to my deeds. Pray for me, my friends.”
Basic paled, and shook his head. “You can’t, oh, sir knight, you can’t...”
“I must. If you understand, then go, and leave me to my evil deeds.”
“But, but, the Code...”
“... Says to destroy evil where ever one finds it, to battle unceasingly against it. That is what I must do, regardless of the consequences. Go, now, and remember me, Sir Carbor.”
“You know me?”
“Of course, who has not heard of the great knight, Sir Carbor? The legends of your deeds are part of a knight’s training; at least, where I come from they are. Now, go. There is no more time.”
Sir Carbor, once known as Basic the Jester, saluted his friend smartly, then climbed aboard the carriage and took the reins. His wife opened the door and helped the children inside. Before she entered herself, however, she ran over to Sir Renault and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly on the cheek. “God Bless you, sir, knight, we’ll never forget you for this.”
Weeping, she ran and boarded the carriage, closing the door firmly behind her. They rode off into the night.
Sir Renault watched the carriage vanish into the gloom, then slowly walked to his horse. He mounted up, and began to ride back to the castle. The course was set in motion, and there was nothing more to be done but follow it along to the end. Regret hung around his neck like a huge stone, weighing him down, but the necessity of what he had to do supported him. At a time when he needed courage the most, it was deserting him, but he would do what needed to be done anyway. He only hoped he could complete his task before he could be stopped.

Sir Ledlipitz was the first to die that morning. Sir Renault burst into his chambers while he was still abed. He woke as his door tore open like an explosion, but his head was cut from his shoulders before he could cry out. In seconds Sir Renault had wiped his blade clean on the chamberlain’s sheets, and was out the door, looking for his next victim.
He found Carnis also in his chambers, again sweating profusely, but this time from an unusual source. He was, when Sir Renault entered, entertaining Queen Bethel in a physical manner that compromised not only one of the commandments, but seemingly several laws of physics as well. As both of them were on Sir Renault’s list anyway, he managed to kill them both with one stroke. The fat man made no outcry, but the queen screamed once before dying in a gurgle of blood.
Finally only the king was left. All the others had been killed, but the king was not going to be so easy. He returned to his own chambers to wash and change his clothes. He left behind his sword and armour, and dressed in only his formal court clothing, equipped only with two lethal daggers. At this point he seriously doubted he would get close enough to actually stab him, but he was a fair hand at throwing daggers, and he might get within range for a chance. He was about to go out the door, but he hesitated. He held up his hand and looked at it. There was no shaking. He felt no fear, only sorrow, and grim determination. Knowing he would probably be dead soon, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The early morning sunlight filtered through the distant curtains, mixing with the torchlight. He steeled himself, and marched forward to his doom.
As he walked along he passed a window looking east, he happened to glance out at the dawn. The clouds were piled high, and were streaked with red, pink and purple bands of colour. The sight was absolutely breathtaking, and he marvelled that even though there is so much evil in the world, there is so much beauty to be found. He said a final prayer of thanks, and asked again for forgiveness, and moved on to his destiny.

A knock on the door brought a curt response to enter. The guard did so. “Sire, there is a Sir Renault here to see you on some very important business, he says, and he needs to see you right away.”
“Sir Renault?” the king muttered to himself. “Very well, send him in.”
The young knight entered, looking extremely grim about something, and he told the guard to withdraw.
“Well, Sir Renault, this is a surprise, seeing you so early. How went your first assignment?”
“Oh, quite well, your majesty, quite well. However, there are some points we need to go over, so I thought it best to discuss them now, if you don’t mind.”
“Certainly, Sir Renault, certainly. But a moment while I ensure we are not disturbed.”
He stepped to the door, and gave the guards instructions. A moment later he returned, and gestured for the knight to accompany him. “I think we’d be more comfortable in my private chambers. Please, follow me.”
Moments later they were seated comfortably, each with a glass of brandy in his hand. “Now, Sir Knight, give me the news. How went our first mission? Successfully, I hope?”
“Oh, yes, sire, most successfully, however it is not quite completed yet.”
“No?” the king asked, interested. “What remains undone?”
“A few questions, my liege, a few mere questions, and the deed is done.”
The king looked puzzled, but merely shrugged “Very well, Sir Renault, ask away.”
“Why have you permitted yourself to become immersed in the evil that festers in this place?”
The king laughed. “Why, because it is a very profitable evil, that’s why. Something of a silly question, don’t you think?”
“Not silly, my liege, not silly at all. The evil must be stopped, and it will be.”
“I fail to see how. I am the king, and there is nothing that can touch me. Evil will always be a part of the world, my young friend. We can struggle against it, or profit from it. I decided I would be better off profiting from it. And I am profiting it from it very, very well, as will you, my young paladin. Why, are you having troubles with your conscience?”
“You might say that, my liege. I’ve killed three people already, and the day is not yet done. I believe only the queen felt any pain.”
“Well, my young...” the king suddenly looked at him sharply. “What do you mean, the queen?”
“She’s dead, my liege. So are your servants in this evil. It must be stopped, and it will be, today.”
He was about to shout for the guards, but felt a sharp dagger at his throat. “What is it you want?” the king hissed.
“Justice is what I want.”
“Justice? There are few greater crimes than regicide. Does not your Code of Chivalry say so?”
“Indeed, my liege, indeed it does,” the knight whispered softly. “Knights sworn to uphold the Code are to defend their kings with all their might and vigour. The only part of the oath that is stronger is the admonishment to wipe out evil, to be ever vigilant against it, and to destroy it no matter what the cost.”
“Ah, and you think that by killing me you will destroy the evil? Didn’t you know that the evil isn’t mine? That I am a slave to it as well? The evil is against my will, as well.”
“So you say, yet you are the king, and you relished in the evil, and the evil comes from you. You could have, and should have stopped it long ago.”
There came a pounding on the door. Someone screamed “Your majesty, your majesty, the queen has been murdered!”
“We seem to be out of time, your majesty,” Sir Renault told him calmly. “Your evil and your life ends here.”
The king tried to struggle, but the blade flashed across his throat before he could do anything. Stepping out of the way of the fountaining blood, he watched the king die to the music of the pounding on the door, then was up and moving. He went to the window, and looked out. The jump was a long one, but the alternative was unpleasant enough to make it seem shorter. He leapt, rolling as he hit the ground so as to protect his legs. His sword arm was now useless, but that no longer mattered to him. His only goal was to keep moving for as long as possible, to cover for Sir Carbor and his family’s escape.
He headed for the nearest stand of woods, and entered it with the pursuit hot on his heels. He broke through the trees, running as fast and as hard as he could. He wanted to prolong his inevitable capture for as long as possible, but he knew that it would only a matter of minutes at best. Still, he ran desperately, and as quickly as possible.
Just as he reached a clearing in the trees, he put his foot down wrong, and tumbled head over heels down an embankment. He fell into a stream, then up the other side. He struck a tree with his full face, staggered off, then tripped and fell. Much to his surprise he fell for a long time, finally landing with a loud splash in some very shallow water and very deep mud. He pushed himself up, fighting against the pull of the mire, and managed to make it to sturdy ground. Grabbing at an exposed tree root, he pulled himself up further, and found himself in a strange place. He was in a hollowed out depression under the tree. He was completely hidden from sight from above, and if he was lucky, he could escape detection for quite a long time down here.
He listened closely, and heard the barking of dogs and the calls of men searching desperately for him, but he had managed to elude capture so far. He huddled down in the deep darkness of the hole, and prayed.
He could hear them all around now, footfalls, calls, and barking, getting louder and louder and louder, until he thought he would go mad with the sound of it. He was sure he would be discovered at any moment, but there was nothing. Finally a head appeared above him in the hole, and he thought he was caught for certain, but even with the head staring straight at him, he was invisible. The head stayed there for a few seconds, then called out, “No, there’s nothing down here, just a lot of mud. He must be further up in the woods, just like I told you.”
The head withdrew, the voices and barking began to fade away, and Sir Renault, covered in blood and mired in dirt, was finally able to breath. Slowly his situation came to him, and he despaired. Even if he were completely healthy, he could not possibly manage to climb up out of the pit without aid. He must stay here until discovered, or find some way out by himself, or die here. The last seemed the most likely. He made himself as comfortable as possible, then, surprisingly, fell into a fast and deep sleep.

He woke with a start, and realized he was not alone. Several inches from him a large, sinuous form could be seen, a darker shadow amongst dark shadows. He knew instantly what it was, but had never seen one before. He knew large snakes, especially one as large as the Striped Springcoil. They were known to grow to huge lengths, and this one didn’t appear to be a smaller member of the species. Although it was difficult to tell in the dim light, it looked to be easily forty feet in length. Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to move his hand to the dagger in his doublet. He knew any sudden moves would find him in the grip of those massive jaws, and a long, slow, horrible death would come soon after.
Finally, after several tortuous moments, he could feel the handle. Slowly he wrapped his hand around the hilt, and carefully, carefully withdrew it. Suddenly the huge head darted forward at him, its vast, cavernous mouth agape and hissing horribly. Sir Renault brought his blade up and rammed it home into the creature’s lower jaw. The snake hissed horribly, and pulled back, causing the blade to pull free from his hand. He quickly drew his last blade; the one used to kill the king, and plunged it with all his might into the top of the snake’s head.
The snake died, but not before the huge coils managed to partially wrap themselves around him. He struggled for what seemed like an eternity to free himself, and finally, after close to an hour’s bitter battle, he felt the last of the thing’s strength ebb away, and he was free.
When the battle was ended he gasped for breath, finding it hard to breathe here in the thick, close, dark air. Steeling himself for one final effort, he tried to push the huge carcass as far away from him as possible, but it wasn’t very far given the limited confines of the pit. He lay down again, and closed his eyes against his weariness.
He was awakened a short time later by a fierce bite on his leg. He opened his eyes to find the pit alive with writhing forms, and he knew what they were. Drawn by the smell of the dead snake, the pit was filled with rats. His knives were still buried in the snake’s head, and he doubted they could help him much now anyway, but he would feel better with a weapon in his hand. He swatted at them, driving them as far away as possible, but they kept coming. He hammered his fists into them, and they died by the dozens, but still they kept coming.
Without warning there were torches being thrust into the pit, driving the rats away with screaming squeals. After a few horrible minutes the rats were all gone, and hands reached down to pull the wounded knight out of the pit. They struggled hard and finally managing to pull him free. When he finally lay on the soft earth above, he gasped for breath, his chest heaving with his exertion.
They lay there a long time, trying to catch their breath, but finally Sir Renault looked up. “You were looking for me, I take it.”
“Indeed, yes, sir,” replied a man with a thick moustache. “The reward will be worth a great deal to us.”
Sir Renault looked at him. “How much?”
“Two hundred in gold.”
“Two hundred? Is that all?” Sir Renault growled. “I should be worth at least a thousand.”
“Well, you haven’t been gone that long. You’re right, though, for killing the king and queen you should be worth a great deal more than two hundred. I take you won’t give us any further trouble with bringing you in?”
Sir Renault sighed deeply. “No, my lords. I would have surrendered immediately, but I needed time.”
“Time for what?”
He was not going to answer, but shrugged instead. “It doesn’t matter now. The king’s jester needed time to escape. His family was being held prisoner, but I set them free. They’ll never be caught now.”
“The king’s jester? Why would he need to escape the king?”
“His real name is Sir Carbor, a great knight from days past.”
The man whistled appreciatively. “And the king kept him and his family prisoner?”
“Indeed.”
“And that is why you killed our king?”
“Not just for that, no. He was using his power to attack and kill his own people, against all laws of God and Man. His own knight was Black Hugh, the bandit, who robbed and killed at the king’s own command. For this, and other evils, he had to die, and I was the only one who could do it. But first I had to set Sir Carbor and his family free.”
The man nodded. “Yes, we knew Sir Bowdwin was Black Hugh, but we were powerless to stop him. We didn’t know the king was involved, though, save that some of people suspected it.”
“We should set him free!” One of the men responded. “What this man did was right and just.”
“It was neither,” Sir Renault told them wearily. “It was necessary. You cannot set me free, my friends, or you face execution yourselves. No, you must take me back as your prisoner.”
“He’s right,” said the first man. “We’d only hang for it ourselves.”
“Well, if we’re going back to the castle, let’s get started. It’s been a long night.”
“One moment more, I beg you all.” He pulled a ring off his finger, and gave it to the man with the moustache. “I give you this now as wergild for dealing fairly with me. This belongs to my family, and is worth at least five hundred gold pieces. Dearer than life to me it was, but no longer. Take it, and sell it, if you would. You deserve no less.”
The man took the ring, and nodded his head, but was shaken by the knight’s nobility. “Is there nothing else we can do for you, sir knight?”
“Well, if of your goodness, you could see your way clear to allowing me to visit a priest, so that I do not go to my death unshriven.”
“Of course, my lord, of course. We’d be glad to do it.”
“Thank you, my lords.”
“Well, we had best move,” said the man with the moustache. They went to get the he horses, and mounted quickly. They were about to gallop off, when he turned suddenly to the knight. “Sir Renault, is there anyone you would like me to send this ring to?”
Sir Renault bowed his head. “If you desire, then you can send it to my true liege, King Arthur of Camelot. He can then let my parents know of my fate.”
The man swallowed visibly. “Camelot? There truly is such a place?”
“Of course! I am but newly made a Knight of the Round Table, an honour I am most undeserving of, but I had hoped to earn through my deeds. Now we shall never know if I should have lived up to that high honour.”
The man was silent for a brief time, then signalled them forward. Afterward, the man dropped back to speak with the knight, and sent his men forward, so that they could speak privately.
“Sir Knight, I will make you a vow. As I have always dreamed of being a goodly knight at fair King Arthur’s court, but being but a lowly guard in the king’s army, I had little hope of ever making it. Therefore I will carry word of your deeds to King Arthur myself.”
“I could ask no more of any man. What is your name?”
“Alford, my lord. Alford of Killton.”
The brave young knight stuck out his hand. “Well, Alford of Killton, I am honoured to know you. I would thank you with all my heart for this service done for me. I am in your eternal debt.”
The man clasped his hand warmly. “The honour is mine, my lord, for even having known you. To have been your companion in these, your last hours, is the greatest honour ever visited upon me.”
“I thank you again, Alford. May God grant we know each other in Heaven’s Halls, that I may more fully reward you.”
“The reward is already given, my lord,” Alford said with tears in his eyes.
Just then they approached the chapel, and there was no more time for talk. The young knight dismounted, and was soon ensconced within with the priest. When they finally emerged, the priest was white-faced and shaking. The young knight, however, looked cool and calm as he mounted his horse, and the priest blessed them all before they rode off in a cloud of dust. When they were gone, the priest turned and re-entered the chapel, to weep for the wickedness of the world, and the purity of the goodness sent to stand against it.

The dawn came, cool and with a slight breeze. The pennants flapped, and the people gathered in the square. Almost everyone was there to witness the death of the knight who had slain their king. The question of why the king was killed was not easily answered, especially as the regent; a distant relation of the king’s, had made it a criminal offence to ask it.
The trial had lasted for days, and although many people knew it was a travesty of justice, a guilty verdict was finally arrived at, and the death sentence passed. The punishment was more than death; it was slow death, in a variety of ways. In this case the way they chose was by burning at the stake.
When they came for Sir Renault, they found him at prayer. They took him and bound him, and brought him to the place of execution. He went calmly, his face a study in humble peace. The depths of this brave knight’s courage moved many, and many took heart from it. More and more believed the word that went ‘round, word that the young knight did what he did in the name of justice.
As they tied him to the stake and piled the brush around him, he actually smiled. Traditionally, they asked the condemned if he had any last words, but when they bypassed that part the people began to wonder. Why were they so afraid of what he would say?
Finally, the signal was given to light the brush. The smoke curled up, and the flames were soon licking their way toward the stake. The people could hear a sound; then, a sound that started out low, and grew as the flames grew higher.
The crowd stood in stunned amazement. The knight was burning to death, yet he was singing hymns to God! Nothing like this had ever happened here before, and no one could believe it. Everyone looked uncomfortably at each other, as if almost embarrassed. Then, gradually the people began to join in, singing along with the courageous, dying young man. The questions about the reasons for his actions were going to be harder to ignore after this.
As for Sir Renault himself, as the horror of the flames wrapped around him, all he could think of, when he was still in control of his own thoughts, was the Phoenix bird. His body was dying, yet the Code he had loved and lived for, and now died for, was going to live. The Code of Chivalry was the living creature that would emerge from his ashes, and his joy was great that this should be so. Thus it was that the true knight, Sir Renault, went to his death with a hymn of praise to God in his heart, and, according to popular belief, went to God with a song on his lips, and a smile on his face.

THE END