The Knight of Silk and Steel (3 page)

“Knight errant is the name I think you want,” Simon the snaggle-bodger smiled (so pleased to show how much he knew).

“Knight
errant
if you like,” old John went on. “But still you have to tell us why you wear the dress!”

Ulrich nodded. “The Lady Isabel is married, so I cannot name her as my love. Instead, I fight for Venus, she’s the mighty goddess of all love. I fight for Venus and, to make it plain, I
dress
as Venus! Venus wig and Venus dress,” he said.

“And Venus beard?” Meg put in.

“No, I set off from Venice at least two years ago. And when you travel on the dusty roads it’s hard to find a village with a barber who can give a shave. Some larger towns from time to time.”

“Ah ha!” the crowd smiled. This was starting to make sense.

“So, here you are,” the landlord said. “You’ll stop the night?”

“I will.”

“And then you’ll travel on again.”

The young knight spread his rein-stained hands and said, “I’d like a fight!” He drew his sword. The crowd stepped back. “Oh, not with you, my friends. I meant I want to find a knight to fight. The lord, perhaps, that owns this land?”

Chaper Four
Breakfast and Butler

“Oooo-arrrrgh!” cried Simon the snaggle-bodger. “What you want’s Lord Edmund up at Seckau Castle. He’s your man, yes, he’s your man.”

“The Red Knight’s what they call him,” Helen the harpist laughed, then lay back on the floor.

“Red Knight, eh? Because he is a warrior, bold and mighty, dressed in armour scarlet red?”

“Nah!” sneered Tom Fool cruelly. “His old armour’s red with rust.”

Ulrich reached inside his dress and pulled out some parchment. “Here’s a challenge to your lord. Take this to him. Tell him I’ll meet him in the fields outside the castle after he has dined tomorrow noon.”

“I’ll take that!” Simon the snaggle-bodger said. He hurried through the door into the falling night. He whistled through the woods and haunting owls hooted back.

“I’m scared of bears!” poor Simon cried. “I must be mad to walk the woods on such a night.”

But he soon saw the castle on the hill and flaming torches lit the gate. The guards were sleeping sloppily, the way they always did.

Simon simply walked right past and hurried up into the hall.

The lord of Seckau sat back, fat and full after his feast. “Ha! Simon! What do you want, lad?” he cried.

“A challenge, lord, from some young knight,” the snaggle-bodger said, and waved the piece of parchment.

“Oh, I love a good fight!” Old Lord Seckau smiled and rubbed his hands with joy.

He called a skinny, white-haired servant dressed in black to stand beside his chair.

“Now, Charles, you’ll need to work all night. I want my armour shining bright by morning, do you hear?”

“Huh, my lord, you don’t want much. There’s years of dust and rust to shift, and straps that snapped last time you fought. You do give me the rotten jobs!” the servant whined.

“I pay you well in wine and food and clothes and blankets for your bed, so stop your moaning, Charles. Do the job and wake me in the morning.”

Charles raised his nose, and sniffed with hurt, but really it was all a game. By the time the cockerel crowed, the armour shone as bright as any silver moon.

His lordship had a little breakfast – seven eggs, and six beef pasties, five large wine cups, four sweet tartlets, three small cheeses, two roast chickens and a loaf of bread.

“Fetch my horse, my good man Charles!” he called.

The man in black raised his fine chin in the air and said, “May I remind you, I’m your butler,
not
your groom. That’s the job for the stable lads.”

Old Lord Seckau gave a mighty laugh and wrapped an iron hand around the shoulder of the servant.

“Charles, my man, you
are
the groom!”

“Since when?”

“Since you
sacked
the stable lads and pocketed their wages. Now, help me fasten on the armour, then go down and saddle my charger. What I need is a little practice. After all, you wouldn’t want your lord to lose!”

“Fah!” the servant spat. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh, yes, you would,” his master told him. “This knight Ulrich fights for trophies. If I win, I get a gold ring. If I lose, then
I
pay him. But see, my dear old servant…
If
I lose, then I will take the money from the wages that
you’re
given to pay the grooms!”