[Continued from Part 1]
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20
Sir Kim scratched his head. Surely, by now, whatever had to happen
would have happened. He began to wonder whether it had worked.
"Lady Kimberley," he asked timidly, "are you sure that was a golden
eagle that you saw?"
"You perceived it as well, or don't you remember?"
"I just got a peek."
They looked at each other, and then at what was left of the body.
Quickly, they rushed to the bundle of clothes, in which less than a pound
of meat was left, and scanned the bloody pulp for the damning ornament.
Thankfully, the dainty ladies had thought the hands too rough to tear
apart. There, upon the fourth finger of the right hand, was the ring. Even
in death, Kim retained her Lady-like sensibilities, and shied away from
the butchered lord. Amnar himself felt queasy, but held his dress over his
face with his left hand, and briskly slipped off the ring with his right.
When he was safely away from the stinking carcass, he opened his palm and
looked at the finely- wrought gold. On it was engraved a giant chicken.
"Lady Kim?"
"Yes?"
"I think we have the wrong man." The ghost keenly regretted her
inability to swoon. Sir Kim gave her the bird, and a scowl marred her
pretty face.
"Leave it to those heathen to take such a cowardly animal as their
emblem. I should have known..."
"They can be pretty nasty; I remember when one of them pec..."
"Silence! At least we earned some heavenly favour... That should count
for something once we do succeed." Anticipating Sir Amnar's response, she
glared at him. "We WILL succeed, either now, or twenty years hence. If I
am denied my rest, you will be also. I will not leave you until we have
destroyed our murderer, and I am in my rightful place in heaven."
"I'm sure my husband will be thrilled," muttered the Knight with the
Petticoat.
"Be you still concerned about that matter? Do not be so troubled. I am
sure we will find a way to ease out of that union. Come; let us plan your
escape." With that, they began their trek back to Lady Kimberley's
bedroom. The journey was made in a surprisingly short time, and they were
through the door an hour after sunset Childra was waiting for them.
She did not know of the rescue of the damosels, or of the knighting of
Sir Kim; news travelled slowly in such a large estate. However, her
deficiency in information was corrected (all too soon) by the proud
'Knight with the Petticoat'. The following morning everyone in that and
all the neighbouring towns had heard of the miracle from one of their
friends.
The attendant left the room soon after the conclusion of the tale.
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21
Upon her departure, Sir Amnar bolted the door, and spent most of the night
in conspiracy with Lady Kimberley.
The next morning was spent in preparation for the evening's ceremony.
A bridal outfit was chosen, the main Hall was decorated, and Childra
bathed her mistress, though she was not due for washing for another week.
In the afternoon, the high feast was made ready, the tables in the banquet
hall being laid out with all the best the kitchens had to offer.
The final vows were pronounced as soon as the last sliver of the Sun
had
sunk beneath the horizon. Of the event, the chroniclers would write that
Baron Reiraku was wedded unto Lady Kimberley at the Church of Kodachi(4),
with great solemnity.
An evening of rejoicing followed, with much merriment by the
company of nobles there assembled. Wine, both white and red, was passed
out in great quantities, after drinking which the guests themselves passed
out in great quantities. Unfortunately for Sir Kim, Lord Reiraku was not
among these. He was leaving on crusade in little less than a day, and was
eager to reap the benefits of his betrothal before then. Therefore, they
left the happy gathering some hours before daybreak to pass the remainder
of the night in exploration of the bridal bed.
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22
CHAPTER VII: In which Sir Kim learns to appreciate the benefits of
Chastity.
Lord Reiraku was shorter than the average, scrawny, and over-fond of
bandannas. His face was cast with a permanent smug grin of just the wrong
kind - it was the type that would make even a stranger want to punch it
off his face. Wearing a grey robe, he reminded Sir Amnar of an armadillo
with gas. Undressed, he looked even worse.
It had taken little time for him to strip down to his birthday suit,
upon which he was quite distressed to find his pretty bride yet fully
clothed.
"Something wrong?" he asked, quite anguished to delay the
consummation.
"Apart from the fact that your looks are nauseating, and that I am now
dead, not a thing," answered the ghost. She was standing in the corner,
enjoying every minute of the encounter. Sir Kim, who was the only one who
could hear the spirit, smiled and gave a prepared reply.
"Dear husband," he said, "in consultation with a clerk, I learned the
value of a chaste and honourable love. Would it not be more meritful,
instead of damaging our souls with fleshly intercourse, to keep apart and
thus be rescued from the flames of Hell?"
"What's love got to do with it?" asked the naked man. "And it's not
like the C-Ko disapproves of this kind of stuff. They gave me ribbons."
He made the last word sound like a tentacle.
"Since you put it that way..." Amnar laid himself lengthwise on the
bed, his arms stretched out below the pillow. Seeing his mate so
complacent only increased the Baron's lust, and he lunged onto the
mattress, reckless in his eagerness to mount the knight. Before he had a
chance to even raise his skirt, the Knight with the Petticoat pulled out a
dagger from its hiding place below the cushions, and put it at lord
Reiraku's throat.
"I think," said Sir Kim, "That you might wanna reconsider the benefits
of a chaste marriage."
"Aheheh," said the Baron, and gulped. "You wouldn't hurt me... Would
you?"
Sir Amnar sliced off the top of lord Reiraku's left ear, like a
kitchen- maid cutting a potato. The Baron winced, put a hand to the wound
and started to cry.
"Are you still unwilling to reconsider?" Reiraku looked at his wife
with hatred in his eyes. Suddenly, he wrested himself from the knight's
hold and made a dash for the door. Unfortunately for him, he
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23
underestimated the extent of Sir Amnar's training. The Knight with the
Petticoat caught him in a wrestler's hold, and repositioned the dagger at
Reiraku's groin. He began to wave the instrument up and down, towards and
away. The Baron followed every movement with his eyes. A cold sweat
covered his forehead.
"I'm still waitin' for your answer." The Baron nodded, mute from
shock. "Good choice; I ain't too experienced at castrations, an' it could
get ugly." From the corner, a ghostly laugh. "You ARE going on crusade
tomorrow?" Nod, nod. "Good. I guess like all them crusaders, you wanted ta
make sure your wife stayed... virtuous?" Reiraku looked at Amnar, trying
to guess at the right answer. "Never mind. I know you did." Frown.
"Don't worry. It won't count against you. In fact... You did bring the
chastity belt, didn't you?" Another nod, but not a very enthusiastic one.
"Well. We're gonna go over there, to where you left it on your clothes,
together. Once we get to it, you'll put it on, and gimme the key.
Understood?" Lord Reiraku panicked. His eyes widened, and mouth opened,
and yet he was too afraid to protest. "What, you'd prefer surgery?" All
was silent.
Slowly, and with measured steps, Sir Kim led his husband to the metal
casing that was lying on the floor. Keeping the dagger on him at all
times, he made Reiraku unlock it, put on the iron diaper, close it, and
hand him the key.
"Good," he said. "I'm glad you can follow instructions. No. Don't even
try to speak. You have a long day ahead of you. Oh," said Sir Amnar,
almost as an afterthought, "I suggest you take a competent blacksmith with
you on the voyage." Reiraku looked at him quizzically. The knight smiled,
and swallowed the key.
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24
CHAPTER VIII: Of Swords and Visions
Baron Reiraku left the following day, never to return. Some say he
gave up the worldly life and took up the cowl soon after landing in
Outremer, and others that first he spent some months in the defence of
Jerusalem. All accounts agree on two things, however: his life and death
were from that moment on spotless. He was regarded as a paragon of virtue
by all who knew him and heard of his deeds. That was the first thing. The
second was that he was unceasing the praise of his bride as the chastest
woman in the world since the Expulsion from Eden. Women, he said, were by
their nature lecherous and devilish creatures, prone to every error of the
flesh and lacking moral fortitude. Lady Kimberley was the opposite. Rather
than tempting him, she had turned his soul away from vice and led him to
the virtuous path. This praise, coming from what was now regarded as a
spotless source, and being so copious in volume, travelled quickly. 'Ore
two months had passed, all the land for leagues around Lye-on-Kunou knew
of its mistress's reputed holiness. Hermits started flocking to the woods
surrounding the town, and pardoners now filled the streets, hocking relics
that they claimed were of the duchess.
These rabble were not usually paid much attention to; but one of them,
a hermit (Nikumi by name) forced herself upon the court. She came unaided
into the audience hall one day, a hunched old woman with dirt and worms
serving decency wherever her rags were not enough. Nikumi had a distinct
limp, which most attributed to her lack of a left foot, and for a walking
stick she used a wooden sword. She strode right past the knights, and
minor nobles, and they did not say a word to her. They were all too
occupied in staring at her face. It was a twisted one, that had seen many
plagues and lived through all of them. A wild corona of white strands was
all that now remained of what must once have been a fabulous head of hair.
Two tufts of cotton served for eyebrows, half-circling grey-blue eyes that
were incongruously young. And for a final touch - her mouth. Her lips were
thin, and barely enclosed a set of teeth that was yellower and more
gap-filled than last year's ear of corn.
When she had reached the ducal throne, she spoke:
"Milady, who is called Son-in-l... Er... Sir Kim?" Sir Amnar nodded in
acknowledgement. "I bring a message for you, given to me by no less an
authority than he who made the heavens and the earth. Last night, I
dreamt, and in this dream a luminous man appeared to me and asked me to
remember and record with faithfulness all that was to follow. I assented,
and he told me once I'd done that I would have to come in here, today, and
tell you everything that I had seen."
"What did you see?" the knight asked.
"I saw a brachet with a hound's head, and a brachet who was not quite
whole. They killed a chicken when they sought an eagle, and though they
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25
later found an eagle and they slew him, yet they had changed naught."
"What the heck does it mean?" asked Sir Amnar.
"The brachet with the hound's head represents your town, which though
seemingly easy to conquer is bound to excel in defence and attack when the
opportunity is given it to exercise its martial skill. The brachet that is
not whole is obviously a reference to the state of the Roman Empire,
which, though the mother of civilization and therefore female, is in decay
and soon to fall apart. The same goes to the mention of the chicken for an
eagle. In fighting the Romans, you expect to face the legions of old, with
that bird in gold as their proud banner, always in advance. Instead, you
will find a force of untrained soldiers who are more willing to retreat
than sacrifice their lives for the glory of their Empire; true chickens.
Yet, there will be one who is still of the old order, and he will be a
true challenge, worthy of his great heritage. Nonetheless, even he will
fall; his presence will change naught in your assured victory."
"Thanks for the warnin' an' your confidence in us."
"You are welcome," said Nikumi. "But now, I have fulfilled my purpose.
Sixty years have I waited for this moment. Today my task is done." She
fell to the floor lifeless. All present there wept to see such a worthy
woman pass away, and in his pity the Knight with the Petticoat sent for
two pages to provide for her a burial as befitted her station. She was
dumped in the pauper's ditch.
Scarce had the court finished grieving, when a knight arrived, running
at full speed. He carried news of a marvellous sword that had arrived in
the city, floating through the air while embedded in a block of lead.
Witnesses had seen it fly through the main walls, across the town, and
into the main square, where it hovered three feet above the cobblestones.
Many had tried, but none had been able to remove it from the floating
stone.
"We must see this wonder," said Sir Kim, and resolved to go and see it
with all his nobles within the hour. He would have gone sooner, but Lady
Kim's spirit, who never left him, refused to let him go in his indoor
dress, and made him change into his outdoor riding clothes.
The scene was as described, and the sword more beautiful than could be
imagined. Its hilt was of carved gold, and its blade seemed to be of
polished silver. Upon the guard, and for the pommel it had two large
rubies, framed with copper. Two grooves ran down along the blade (for
lightness), and in between them there was writ in fine letters of fire:
"Whosoever pulleth this sword from this block of lead, is the chosen
warrior of Tofu, and heir to riches far surpassing those of earthly
kings."
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26
Regretfully, no living person there could read, and the incandescence
from the letters was too much for Lady Kim's sensitive eyes to bear, so
the inscription was ignored. Nonetheless, the sword was gorgeous, and
looked valuable, so there was fierce competition for it regardless. Every
person with a title there, however small, tried their hand at the
challenge. None succeeded until Sir Kim came up, the last in line, and
with little effort pulled the sword from its bulky sheath.
Therewithal several weapons peddlers came up to Sir Amnar and asked to
buy it. And the good knight denied them thrice, for well he liked the
sword, and he was loath to part with it. And therefore the salesmen left
disappointed, until they found a rich and witless squire to whom they sold
a shield with holes in it "to make it lighter" (so they said), and then
they were content.
The duchess returned to the palace, and dismissed the court for the
day. In his private chamber, he pondered what to do with the weapon.
"It's a nice sword," he said.
"It is," agreed the ghost.
"And magical, certainly. You can't get those letters of fire just
anywhere, you know."
"I know."
"The heft, too, is incredible. In my condition, a short sword is a
heavy load, but this! This one I may carry as I please, and swing as
easily as once I did a broadsword. But, something bothers me. Something
isn't quite right. Maybe... Are you sure you can't read the inscription?"
he asked hopefully.
"Quite sure."
"My, you're talkative today."
"Very."
"Look; I know we haven't caught a sight of 'golden eagle' in months,
but I'm sure we'll find him eventually. Meanwhile, you might as well make
the best of it. You're not the only one in a fix. I've had to give up
training expeditions, an' I've had to use all them awkward table manners -
well, most of the time, anyway - and... You can probably guess what I
miss the most."
"Women," hissed the shade.
"You kiddin'? TROUSERS. And not only that; each time someone calls to
me, that name - " Something clicked. "Wait a minute. That's what's
missing! This sword needs a name!" Lady Kimberley wanted to cry. Sir Amnar
was excited at the prospect of choosing a designation for his blade and
retreated into his own private world of thoughts and plans. He would not
emerge until a few hours later, when he called in the town priest for a
private consultation.
The next day, the christening of the blade was held (appropriately,
though they knew it not) in the Temple of Tofu. The choir sang beautiful
anthems while the friar pronounced the blessings on the weapon.
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27
After a lengthy discussion, it was decided that such a fine artifact would
not be damaged through immersion in water, so the ritual was completed as
it was for any other unnamed entity. The water in the baptismal font was
sanctified, and then the sword was submerged point-first. Sir Kim and
Childra stood beside, almost overflowing with emotion. Eagerly, they
repeated the words of the covenant, being as they were the foil's
godparents, and swooned from joy when the final words were said:
"I hereby baptise thee, Eaglebane Chickenfoe, in the name of the
Global Saviour. Walk in the light of Kunou."
When all was done, the knight carried the sword back to his chambers.
Even Lady Kim, who had declined to go to the ceremony, had to agree that
there was a new propriety to the blade, now that it had been properly
named and entered into Christ. Sir Kim announced a feast in celebration of
the occurrence, whom all attended in great gaiety, and there was much
rejoicing throughout the night.
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CHAPTER IX: In which Sir Kim is wooed.
It befell in those days that a squire came to Lye-on-Kunou, and behold
he was passing fair. He laboured there for months, and all who met him
were right fond of him, for he could play the harp, and sang true sweetly.
His greatest joy was the hunt, either of stag or bear. He was kind to all
women, and just to men, as well as liberal of his purse. This last, as we
all know, be the greatest virtue that a man may have, for if he is not
generous, though he be otherwise as talented as Solomon, yet shall he be
shunned by those around him. And this great deportment lasted for a
quarter of a year.
At the end of that period, of a sudden he fell sick, and no one knew
what was the cause of this malady. Doctors were sent for from foreign
countries, for he was well loved at the ducal court. Aught could they do,
and said that Avicenna with his art would not be able to find out what lay
at the root of his decline.
But, women are often more shrewd and observant than the men they
belong to. Childra was tending to the young man, and speaking (as was her
habit) of the affairs that were current in the place. She noticed that
whenever she mentioned the name of Lady Kimberley, the squire would let
out a sigh, and his eyes would assume a look of one who is both here and
elsewhere. From this she gathered that he was in love, and with her
mistress. Being knowledgeable in such things, she told him that she knew,
and asked him whether he would like her help and sage advice on how he
should proceed. The boy (an old boy, being two and twenty years of age)
agreed. After that, they conspired together whenever they met, planning
how best to besiege Kim's honour.
"Honesty is the best policy," it is said, and seeing that the squire
was handsome, strong, and limber, Childra saw no harm in telling Kim of
his intentions. Perchance, she thought, her husband Reiraku's protracted
absence had increased her yearning for an escapade or two. Therefore, one
day as Kim (who was Sir Amnar, unbeknownst to poor Childra) was leaving
for a walk, she approached him.
"My lady," said the maid, "there is a matter I must speak to you
about."
"What is it?" asked the knight.
"There is a squire that's sick for love of you. In bed he lies, and
has not risen for a month because he finds in nothing pleasure but in
contemplation of yourself. I have taken it upon me to bring his case to
your attention, and do pray that you will judge him favourably, and agree
to grant him your favours." Sir Amnar stopped right where he strode, and
stiffened. His mouth opened, then closed again, as he did not know what he
should say. Thankfully, Lady Kim (who was always near her avatar) had
heard the conversation and told him the course of action he should take.
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The Knight with the Petticoat smiled, and now he said, in his silkiest
voice,
"Childra, tell 'im I'll meet 'im in the garden at ten past midnight."
"I am glad that you accept, Lady Kim, but in sooth I am surprised by
the velocity with which you've done so. Why, I've never spoke his name!"
"Doesn't matter," Sir Amnar covered his tracks. "I trust you like a...
a... like a sister! Yeah, that's it! I trust you like a sister, an' I know
if you think he's right for me, then by golly he is." Another smile.
The chamber maid delivered the message to the squire, who was in
raptures when he heard the news. He took a quill and paper (he was also
scholarly, and knew to read and write) and set upon it poetry, the which
he handed to the intermediary, begging her to take it to her mistress, now
his own. Childra, kind-hearted person and matchmaker that she was,
immediately acceded to his request, and in little time had placed the
piece of parchment in the palm of Sir Amnar.
"What's this?" he asked.
"A poem, milady, that your squire has written in thankfulness for your
favours."
"Will you read it to me?"
"Lady Kim; you can do that far better than I! Besides, it is not my
place to interfere in your liaisons." The knight grinned. She had
interfered enough, already. He opened up the paper, which was neatly
folded in four parts, and stared at the spidery handwriting
incomprehensibly. He regretted, too late, having banished the priest who
had wanted to teach him how to read.
Childra hoped Kimberley would be more affected by the poem when
alone, and so she left.
'Twas only when he heard the bang of the wooden door closing on the
stone wall, that the Knight with the Petticoat judged it safe enough to
call upon his spiritual advisor.
"Kim?"
"Yes?" She approached him.
"Will you read this for me?"
"Certainly." She smiled, and motioned to Sir Amnar, that he would put
the sheet in front of her. When he did, she intoned:
My love for you will never die,
But take it from me, and I'll cry.
I'd rather pull my fingernails
Or be wrapped up in wet cloth sails
Or have a beast eat my entrails
While someone's pulling off my skin
for payment of a mortal sin
than I should of you be deprived;
for then, I should not be long-lived.
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Were I not dead, I'd kill myself
In open air, without much stealth
How can I do but otherwise?
I tell the truth, and say no lies
When I declare you from the rest
In looks and character are best.
Your hair is golden, and so fair
I seldom notice your moustache is there.
Your skin is pure, as is your soul;
One cannot see the little mole
That's on your cheek.
In short, I love you, Kimberley,
And hope to Bob that you like me,
Strangely, after reading the piece, both of them were relieved of any
trace of guilt they had felt for what they were about to do. In point of
fact, they smiled, and gave each other a knowing glance of mutual
agreement. With a light heart, the Knight with the Petticoat went to his
bed, to wait until the midnight hour.
Ten past twelve came sooner than expected. Five minutes before that,
Sir Amnar was on his way to the garden. In one hand he carried Eaglebane
Chickenfoe, in the other the poem. The ghost was at his left.
The squire had arrived early. Sir and Lady Kim saw him as soon as they
reached the gate, lazing contentedly on the sickly-yellow grass. They came
up to him.
"Well met," said the knight. The squire stood up straight. He was a
handsome lad, just as Childra had promised. Not that it changed
anything...
"I thank you for your loving munificence," he said.
"Don't thank me yet," said Sir Kim as he locked the garden gate. "I
still don't know your name..."
"Tanaro," he said eagerly.
"Tanaro. . . You wrote this?" he showed the paper.
"I did."
"I thought so. Come here." Tanaro advanced. When he was close
enough, Sir Amnar grabbed his arms and twisted them about his waist,
effectively paralysing him.
"I didn't like the poem," said the knight. "In fact, I hated it." He
squeezed tighter. The would-be lover screamed. "What was that you said,
about your fingernails?" Tanaro's eyes widened in fear. He began to
tremble. Lady Kim laughed, and Sir Kim pulled out Chickenfoe. He gripped
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31
the boy's right hand and forced his fingers open. Using the tip of the
blade, he peeled off his nails, one by one, then did the other hand. "I'm
feeling kind today," he said, "so I'll spare the feet." His victim begged
for mercy, crying all the while and howling at each new removal.
"Does it hurt too much?" asked the knight. Tanaro nodded, for he could
not speak. "The fingers, I suppose." A nod of agreement. "Very well." Sir
Kim took his wrists and held them together, one on top of the other, with
his left hand. He raised his sword above his head, and then swung down.
Unfortunately, the stroke only cut through half of one arm. It took two
more slices to sever both hands. The squire was in agony.
"You know why I do this?" Shake, shake. "It's 'cause your kind make me
SICK. You take a happy married woman, then tell whatever lies will get
'er into bed the quickest. Just your luck, I also happen to have a
personal grudge against any man who tries to become my lover." Amnar
paused. "Actually, that's not completely true. Before you sent the poem, I
was only gonna to threaten you, then let you go. But someone who does such
disfavour to the English tongue, and butchers that glorious language in so
infamous a manner, deserves to have the same done to himself." A cheer
from the ghost, who watched from a distance. "You take some beautiful,
words, and then turn 'em into somethin' worse than Chef Akane's cooking.
Enjoy the hour, Tanaro the Squire, for today you die."
The knight pinned the barely conscious body on the ground, and sliced
some shallow slits, parallel to the arm, just above what used to be the
boy's right wrist. He grabbed a hold of the resulting flap and pulled,
stripping half of the still-living skin from the bloody limb. As he
prepared to do the other side, he heard a trumpet sound, followed by the
heavy footsteps of a hundred men in armour mobilising themselves within
the castle. Lye-on-Kunou was being attacked. Again.
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CHAPTER X: In which Sir Amnar fights the final battle of this history.
Sir Amnar left the body of the squire, more dead than alive, and with
the shade went out to see who was besieging the city. He came upon a
man-at-arms within the postern gate, and asked him for the facts.
"Milady," said the man, "'tis a band of more than thirty robber
knights, the self-same ones that just some months ago caused so much
trouble in the vicinity, and slayed so many brave and noble men." Upon
this being said, both knight and Lady were full glad, for now, they
thought, there surely would appear among these the Knight of the Golden
Eagle, whom they had sought for so long.
Wanting to waste no time, Sir Kim began to search the area to find a
horse, and armour so he could go into battle. There was little available,
since all the men were occupied in feats of prowess, and required their
war equipment. Of what was left, he was able to borrow nothing. It was one
thing, his people said, for a woman to pray and kill a man by miracle; it
was an entirely different thing to allow her to ride into battle.
Sir Amnar would not be denied. He stole some armour from a wounded
knight, and took the horse they used to cart the straw. He found no
lance, but utilised a stick, true long, whose function was to knock down
apples from the tallest orchard trees. To the end of this he affixed the
tip of a broken sword, tying it on with common twine. The enemy on the end
of it, he hoped, would never know the difference between this makeshift
spear and a proper lance. He armed himself, and rode on out, sending Lady
Kim before him to find the traitor, if she could.
When he joined it, the battle had been raging for an hour, and many
had distinguished themselves in feats of arms(5).
The battlefield was a sight to see. The lances stood up in vast
numbers, like trees in a forest. War cries resounded through the valley,
intermingled with the dying shrieks of those not fortunate. Though night,
and on dry land, the moon reflected off the armour of the combatants,
creating the impression of a silver sea, which now and then was tainted by
a brownish reddish tide. The smell was not of salt, however, but of sweat,
and blood, and horse manure. And amid all, an unnatural mist hovered,
composed of the steam arising from the newly dead, and carried elsewhere
by the cold night breeze. This was the backdrop against which the bravest
knights pursued their occupation.
Sir Clariance, Sir Breunor and Sir Accolon encountered with Sir
Damas, Sir Ontzlake, and Sir Baudwin. They each smote their horses to the
earth, and there was much hurt on either side. Sir Clariance and Sir Damas
continued the fight on foot, swinging their swords with great strength.
Sir Baudwin could not rise from the ground, once he had been knocked down,
and died later of wounds from trampling. Sir Ontzlake saw that he was at a
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disadvantage, and retreated, for which he was nicknamed 'the coward' and
shunned by all men thereafter. Sir Breunor, unable to recognize his
companion without his charger's trappings, slayed Sir Accolon, and
chopped off his head. When he was told what he had done after the battle,
he was right grieved, and gave donations to various monasteries, that they
might say perpetual masses for the soul of that most noble knight.
Also, Sir Carados, Sir Brian, and Sir Aglaval encountered with Sir
Nentues, Sir Darnard, and Sir Berrant, but they were young and freshly
knighted, and so they quickly were unhorsed and captured. It would be many
years, and they old men, before the ransoms that they gathered on that day
would finally be paid.
Sir Lionors, Sir Alisander, and Sir Corbin showed great chivalry when
they brake their spears upon Sir Rience, Sir Borre, and Sir Epinogrus. The
last three were sworn enemies of the first group, and yet when they were
defeated, and about to meet their God, Sir Lionors interceded and
convinced the rest to let them go. N profited them not, he said, nor would
it bring them any glory, to do harm to enemies once they had been unarmed.
The other two agreed. They thought that any joy that might have come from
their demise would be obliviated by the shame with which they would be
burdened if they committed so treacherous an act. Therewithal Sir Rience,
Sir Epinogrus and Sir Borre responded that they were true glad of their
largesse, and would repay them by evermore being their sworn and trusted
allies, and so the six then honourably left the battlefield to enjoy a
well-deserved banquet provided by the rejoicing losers.
But, the knight that most distinguished himself was one who no one
knew; he had no shield, and so the heralds could not fathom who it was.
His horse bare not a colour, nor indeed a saddle. All they knew that
fought was he that met with the mystery warrior was doomed to lose his
horse, though not his life. This knight was courteous, and all he wished
was to eliminate those whom he beat from the competition; it was enough
for him to gain their wealth and their surrender.
"Truly, this be a marvellous knight," said Sir Brandiles. To this, Sir
Anglides answered him that he had seen not a better in all his life.
"But, who could it be?" asked Sir Meliot of Gaul. "I have not seen a
chevalier to ride before without a saddle or a shield. He bears no
markings, so I know not who to credit with this glorious performance to
which we are most fortunate witnesses today " Therewithal, they all
agreed, each and every single knight on both sides, to meet with this
great soldier when all was done, and to pay him homage as was deserved by
his ability.
Meanwhile, the object of their attention continued to hack his way
through the greatly diminished crowd, searching for something he had not
yet found. All at once, he stopped, and looked to his side. A nod, and he
galloped off, certain in his direction. The horse only stopped when he
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reached a certain robber knight, and then all others but that one turned
back, and left. The warrior who remained had a distinctive bird on the
back of his armour.
"I would break lances with you, O Knight of the Golden Eagle," said
the Mystery Knight, who was Sir Amnar in his borrowed armour.
"Verily," replied his foe, "I would be well-pleased and honoured to be
allowed a chance to kill you."
"Well met, then," said Sir Kim, continuing the ancient formula, "for
so would I."
Both knights rode back a distance, to where there was enough clear
space to charge, then couched their lances and rushed to each other. The
first run saw the shattering of Sir Eagle's shield, and at the second he
was unhorsed.
"Ya want me to stay on the horse, or go on foot?" asked Sir Amnar.
"Nay, I would ye fight on foot," said his enemy. Therefore, the knight
dismounted, and unsheathed Eaglebane Chickenfoe.
"'Tis an unusual sword you bear."
"Yep. Skip the chitchat, an' let's get this over with."
"Certes."
There they fought for hours. They were right evenly matched. For every
stroke one gave, the other had a counter-stroke, so that no one won or
lost. The night dragged on and turned to dawn, and still the combatants
were in full swing. Their armour was dented and in places cracked; their
faces were bloody and yet they fought as valiantly as ever. The Sun began
to rise, and finally Sir Amnar, though he was nearly dead, was gaining on
his foe. Regretfully, he did not know Sir Eagle was the ward of an evil
sorcerer. The magician had granted him this gift: that in the fifteen
minutes after sunrise, his strength should increase when in battle. Thus,
the Knight with the Petticoat found it increasingly more difficult to
block the blows, and at fourteen minutes past the rising of the Sun, it
looked as if he were to be defeated. At the very last minute, he gathered
up his strength: just as the Knight of the Golden Eagle lost his power,
Sir Amnar struck with all the might that he had in him. No helmet could
have stopped that deadly blow, and night descended on the knight.
It was done. He had avenged his murder, and the soul of Kim was free.
Amnar dropped to his knees and clasped his hands, uttering a prayer to
the heavens:
"Global Saviour, Blue Thunderer, I thank you for your bounty in having
allowed me to defeat this second Ganelon. I beg you now that I am
victorious, and my Lady safe above with you, that you grant her, your
servant Kimberley Thimble of..."
"Thompson." Sir Kim looked back. There was Lady Kimberley, still a
spirit.
"Oh no. The wrong person, again?" The Knight with the Petticoat
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prepared to faint.
"The right one."
"Then..."
Lady Kim looked at the knight.
The knight looked at Lady Kim.
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CHAPTER XI: Epilogue - The Canonisation of St. Kim
The day of the Final Battle, a chain of events was started which led,
several years after Sir Kim's death, to his canonization. The Church of
Kodachi listed as great miracles his steadfast chastity, ability in battle
and visible signs of heavenly favour. The entry in "Sister Yarimanko's
Summary of Saints of the Leotard" is as follows:
"Saint Kimberley Thompson of Lye-on-Kunou: Born a duchess, she spent
her early life in the sin and moral corruption typical of noble courts.
During an attack on her town in her late adolescence, St. Kim suffered a
revelation which changed her life. From that moment on, she scorned the
frailties of women, insisting to dress as a man, even in armour, for she
was distinguished in battle. Anyone who opposed her fell to her sword
Eaglebane Chickenfoe (the origin of the name is unknown), a weapon which
she received in a leaden block which flew into her town from the heavens.
Her miracles are many. The first was the death of Sir Ki O'Foo, a
heathen king, and the liberation of the two hundred and sixty-four women
of C-Ko which he had abducted for his harem. Upon the accomplishment of
this feat, light shone upon St. Kim, angelic music played, and a voice
from above said: " This is the one that has slain my greatest foe. " It
was then that the Saint was knighted, and given the title 'The Knight with
the Petticoat'.
The second miracle which we know about was the sudden conversion of
Lord Reiraku, later Brother Rat of Osaka. Before meeting her he was a
Baron who delighted in lust and luxury, and whose ruthlessness saw murder
as a commonplace event. The night he was wed unto her, she won him over
from lechery to the side of virtue. He left on crusade soon after, and on
landing in Outremer took up the cowl, a vocation in which he distinguished
himself.
Strange and wonderful events filled the rest of her unnaturally long
life of one hundred and twenty-one years, during which she remained
absolutely chaste. Hundreds of knights willingly gave up the claims to
their lands and paid homage to her, and she became the ruler of a vast
kingdom, now destroyed. People said, and it has been proven in our times,
that she had a guardian angel whom she saw and spoke to, and who told her
whatsoever she wished to know. She died with the destruction of
Lye-on-Kunou, losing her vitality and strength when deprived of the city
like Samson after having shorn his hair.
Seven years after her death, C-Ko recognised her as an intercessor for
humanity in the afterlife, and acknowledged the validity of prayers made
to her. She is the patron Saint of Noblewomen, and her feast day is
September the twenty-fifth, the day of her knighting. "
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[This page is blank in the original.]
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NOTES
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(1) In the original, after this point the author seems to be confused as
to whether he should use feminine or masculine pronouns to describe Sir
Amnar/Sir Kim/the Knight with the Petticoat/the knight/Lady Kimberley
(Lady Kim being reserved for Childra, and the original duchess). In
general, he tends to use he/him/his for the names 'Sir Amnar' and 'the
knight', and she/her/hers for 'Sir Kim', 'Lady Kimberley' and 'the Knight
with the Petticoat'. I have taken the liberty of using the masculine form
throughout, reasoning that though in body he may be female, in mind he is
always a male knight, a fact which is crucial to the plot.
(2) This is a lost pun. The people of the time thought that the eagle was
simply a very large, very mean chicken, which led to several deaths each
year when farmers, having run out of eggs, tried to take them from the
raptors. Hence, the play on foul/fowl.
(3) This anachronism is thought to be the product of a later editor's
creativity.
(4) Not so much a Church as a combination gym and brothel.
(5) De Guillermas had likely read Malory, or perhaps Malory based his own
work on Sir Kim. In any case, the names used here are to be found
throughout Le Morte D'Arthur, ascribed to other characters. The paragraphs
that follow are unclear; unlike others of his age, Cristobal did not enjoy
writing about battles. This is unfortunate, since it means that his style
wanes at the climax of the tale, when it should be at its zenith.
Recent research indicates that it is most likely that the first three
knights of each group are defenders of Lye-on-Kunou, while the remainder
are besiegers. It is an early example of the shift in tournament tactics,
away from trying to fight a tournament like a battle, and towards fighting
battles in the style of tournaments. The group of three knights charging
against three opposing knights is very characteristic of the tourney at
the height of the Middle Ages.
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CRISTOBAL DE GUILLERMAS: Not much is known about the author of sir Kim .
He was born in Spain, but moved to England early for diplomatic reasons.
In his own time, he was well-known for his poems, now lost. Sir Kim is his
only known major prose work.
CHRISTOPHER WILLMORE is the author of several unpublished short stories,
and more poems than he would like to take credit for. Translations include
selections from the middle-English romance of Havelock, & Gawain and the
Green Knight, English Short Poems (1250 - 1500), and Sir Kim.
==========================================================================
END
==========================================================================
I have a confession to make. This story originally had nothing
whatsoever to do with Ranma. The first draft was written while I was
still in high school. After that, it mouldered on my hard drive, and I
hardly gave it another thought until recently. I was searching for
unfinished stories, came across Sir Kim... and realised that MUCH of my
'Ranma 2096' series was foreshadowed in it. Ghosts, body-swapping, even
most of the main characters were there. Reading further, I decided that
it was a pretty good story, even after all this time, and that it was
deserving of a wider audience. I spent some time making the necessary
changes to turn it into a Ranma 2096 Elseworlds (yes, I did quite a bit
more than search-and-replace names!), and you see the result in front of
you. Hope you enjoyed it!
-CW 07/09/2000
==========================================================================