by Robert Thier
“His name is Sir Franco d’Onofrio, and you can keep his head, as long as you sever it from his body.”
“A knight?” Reuben’s eyes went wide. “A nobleman has dared to raise his hand against the innocent and rebel against you?”
“Yes.” The Emperor stroked his red-golden beard thoughtfully. “And, on second thoughts, you had better refrain from severing his head from his body until you bring him back here. People like to have a trial and judgement in such occasions—don’t ask me why.”
“I shall of course bring him to justice, your Imperial Majesty, but…a knight? How could this be? How can you be betrayed by someone who has sworn by good to serve you and the ream? By a knight?”
“A robber knight,” the Emperor corrected. “A knight who has forsaken his vows and begun to prey on the weak and helpless for earthly gain.”
Reuben felt his face darken. “I can hardly believe that such an abomination is allowed to exist on God’s good earth! Your wish is my command, Sire! I will ride out this very day, no, this very hour, catch this blaggard, and drag him back to Palermo by his throat!”
“An admirable sentiment.” The emperor nodded. “My scouts have spotted Sir Franco in a village not five miles from here. He was rather hard to miss, considering that he is currently busy screaming his head off and smashing the inside of a tavern to bits. If you hurry, you might still find him there, indulging in drink.”
Bowing once more, Reuben placed a hand over his heart. “I shall find him and stop him, Your Majesty. This I swear by all that is holy!”
“My, my. That is some oath. You had better go and fulfill it before it catches up with you.”
“I shall. Farewell, Your Majesty.”
Rising, he retreated out of the throne room at a respectful pace. As soon as the door was closed behind him, though, he punched the air and started racing down the corridor.
“Yes! Yes! A quest! A quest of my very own!”
And not a bad one, either. Granted, there was no dragon to kill or maiden to save, but there was a villain to overcome, and when he came back, there would still be plenty of maidens at the royal palace vying for his attention. With that cheerful thought in mind, Reuben cantered down the stairs and strode out into the courtyard.
“Someone saddle my horse!” he bellowed. “Quick!”
By the time some frightened groom had found the courage to approach Ajax and put a saddle on his back, a group of guards had gathered around the gate.
“What are these?” Reuben demanded, gesturing to the men.
“They are your escort, Sir Reuben,” replied the groom. “The Emperor sent them to assist you in the capture of Sir Franco.”
Reuben shrugged. “I suppose they can come along.” A grin quirked up one corner of his mouth. “If they can keep up.” And with that, he drove his heels into Ajax’s sides and galloped out of the gates.
*~*~**~*~*
“Sir Franco!”
The man sitting at the table—which was slightly wobbly, due to the fact that the man had broken off one of the legs a while ago to beat the innkeeper—lowered his goblet and glared up at the stranger approaching him.
“Who wants to know?”
“Are you Sir Franco d’Onofrio?”
“Yes! And you are?”
“Sir Reuben von Limburg,” Reuben declared. He pulled one of his gloves off and, with it, smacked the drunkard lightly across the face. “And you, Sir Franco, are a villain and a cad, and you have broken the Emperor’s law! I hereby challenge you to a duel! I shall await you outside of this establishment to meet in a chivalric contest of ar—“
Reuben didn’t get any further than that because Sir Franco had launched himself up off the bench and hauled off a blow that sent Reuben stumbling backwards.
“Sir Knight! I must protest! According to the laws of chivalry—“
Wham!
“Sir Knight! If you do not cease this outrageous behavior, I shall be forced to—“
Thud!
“—ng!”
Reuben staggered, catching himself against a wall. Growling, he rubbed his aching chin.
“Very well! You, Sir, obviously have no honor—“
“You got that right, laddy! Here, honor this!”
Reuben ducked just in time to evade the flying bottle that smashed against the wall behind him.
“—and,” he continued, “you do not deserve to be treated with the honor due your station! I shall drag you back in front of the Emperor and make you beg for forgiveness!”
“Not in a million years, sonny!”
Reuben ducked out of the way again, nearly getting his face slit open by another bottle, this one not thrown, but broken off and clasped in the meaty fist of the robber knight as a makeshift mix of club and dagger.
“You cad! Fight with a knight’s true weapons!” Reuben demanded, pulling free his sword—or, at least, starting to. He had hardly gotten it halfway out of the scabbard when a wet, stinking dishrag smacked into his face.
“Here! Fight this!”
“Pfff! Grk! Pfts!”
Spitting out dishwater and something which tasted like remnants of moldy applesauce, Reuben pulled the rag from his face—and saw an armor-clad fist driving towards him.
Thwack!
The blow knocked him back against the wall again. This time, stars danced in front of his eyes, and they weren’t particularly pretty stars that he appreciated seeing. Throwing himself to the side, he rolled, just managing to evade a vicious kick to the gut, slid underneath a table and came up again on the other side, face dripping wet and his heart burning hot with anger.
“Have you no shred of chivalry left?”
Sir Franco grinned. “Maybe I’ll have some when I’ve shredded you. Depends on how chivalrous you are.”
“I, Sir, strive to be the epitome of pure knighthood, as every good knight should!”
“Good.” Hooking his foot under the table, Sir Franco kicked out again and sent the table flying towards Reuben. “That’ll make it easier to smash your face in!”
Right then and there, Reuben decided he’d had enough.
Catching the table in mid-flight, he hurled it aside and strode towards the robber knight, eyes blazing.
“Ah! So you do have some fire in you, after all!” Sir Franco laughed. “Nice! Maybe I’ll leave you alive after all, boy. Although I should kill you, merely for the Emperor’s insult in sending a boy like you after me!”
Reuben didn’t reach for his sword this time. It might be the true weapon of a knight, but it was too long for a fight in such close quarters. Instead, he reached out and grabbed a rolling pin off the counter.
“Oh, now I’m really afraid!” Sir Franco smirked. “What are you going to do with that? Flatten me?”
Reuben smiled and stepped forward. “Exactly.”
*~*~**~*~*
When the escort of guards arrived at the edge of the village, the sergeant signaled halt and looked to his captain.
“Where to now, Captain? Where is this robber knight?”
Crash!
All heads turned towards a grubby-looking little inn that stood three houses away. Something hit the wall from inside, making the sign of the inn squeak and sway back and forth. A moment later, an earthen jar smashed through a horn-plated window, sailed across the courtyard, and crashed on the ground, not far from the soldiers’ feet.
“I think he’s in there,” the captain voiced his opinion.
“Should we go inside to help?” the sergeant inquired.
Another crash shook the building, and someone cursed. The curse was abruptly cut off, turning into a gurgle, then a choking noise.
The captain cleared his throat. “I don’t really think so. I, um, think it is wiser, from a tactical point of view, to stay out here and surround the place.”
“To make sure that nobody gets away,” the sergeant suggested.
“Exactly! I see you have a good head on your shoulders, sergeant.”
“Thank you,
Captain.”
“Keep it up, and there might be a promotion in store for you, soon.”
“Delighted to hear it, Captain. And…”
“Yes?”
“When we surround the inn, how closely should we surround it?”
The captain eyed the smashed pot in front of him. “Maybe we should keep a bit of distance, sergeant. That way, we have a better vantage point and much more chance of catching anyone if they try to flee.”
“Of course! You’re absolutely right, Captain. Men, spread out!”
*~*~**~*~*
When, about half an hour later, Reuben exited the inn, the limp figure of Sir Franco d’Onofrio slung over his shoulder, he was met by the scrape of steel on steel as a circle of over two dozen guards raised their weapons and pointed them directly at him. He raised an eyebrow.
“How have I earned the honor of such a warm reception?”
Sheepishly, the guards lowered their weapons. Their captain cleared his throat and stepped forward.
“My apologies, Sir Reuben. We were only trying to keep any enemies of the Emperor from escaping.”
“I commend your conscientiousness.” With his free hand, Reuben patted the limp figure of Sir Franco. “But, as you see, the only enemy of the Emperor who is here is already taken care of.”
“Yes, Sir Reuben. Of course, Sir Reuben.”
Hauling the man off his shoulder, Reuben dumped him to the ground. “Tie him up and sling him over my horse. We’ll bring him back to the Royal Palace immediately.”
“Yes, Sir Reuben.”
“And send someone to tell the innkeeper that his inn is safe again and that he should learn how to make better applesauce.”
“As you command, Sir Reuben!”
The ride back to Palermo and the Royal Palace was, except for a few cheering villagers, rather uneventful. It left Reuben time to contemplate his first quest as a knight in shining armor. He rather wished that his armor were, in fact, still shining all over and not spotted with grease, applesauce, and stale beer. Also, he would have been somewhat more content with his quest had it not taken place in the common room of a grungy little inn. “I smote him with a rolling pin and knocked him down into a pile of puke” didn’t appear to him to be quite as heroic a climax for an adventurous tale as, say, “I dueled with him on the field in front of the castle and smote him down with my mighty sword.”
Ah, well, beggars can’t be choosers. It was my first time, after all.
And besides—maybe, when he told the story at court, he would leave out the disgusting bits. Of course, a true knight couldn’t lie, but it wouldn’t be lying, exactly, right? Even a knight could neglect to mention puddles of puke without violating principles of chivalry.
Sunk deep into these chivalric contemplations, the time flew bye for Reuben, and he felt practically no time had passed when he rode up in front of the Royal Palace of Palermo. The gates opened to the cheers of the gathered crowd. Men bellowed his name and fair ladies threw flowers, though he noticed that, for some reason, the girl he had been with before his departure was not among them. Grinning, he shrugged. From the looks of things, there would be plenty of others to replace her.
Jumping off his horse, he grabbed the limp figure of the robber knight and swung him over his back.
“Lead me to the Emperor!” he commanded a guard standing at the gate to the keep. “I have his prisoner!”
Accompanied by the cheers of the crowd, Reuben marched into the keep. Even with the dead weight of the robber knight on his shoulders, it didn’t take Reuben long to reach the throne room. As the guard stepped aside, he marched in and, kneeling, dumped Sir Franco onto the stone floor.
“Your Imperial Majesty? Here is the man you were looking for.”
The Emperor looked up from a book he was reading and raised an eyebrow. “That was quick.”
A whisper of cloth sounded above Reuben, and, glancing up, he saw a number of noblemen and ladies file onto the gallery above them. He smiled proudly.
“I always do my best to do my duty promptly and to the best of my ability, Your Majesty.” Shaking his head in disgust, Reuben gazed down at the figure on the floor. “It is a shame that not all knights do the same. God! A robber knight…I cannot understand how any knight could fall so low as to betray his principles and duty to God, the people, and the crown! Such vermin doesn’t deserve to stain God’s green earth!”
“You can’t understand it? Well, up yours, you guts-griping maggot!”
Reuben’s eyes flew wide open. It took him a moment to realize it was not the Emperor who had spoken. Both of them looked down at the Robber Knight, lying bound on the floor. His eyes were open. Not seeming to care about the bonds that bound him so tightly they cut into his skin, the man pushed himself up, first into a sitting position, and from there up onto his own two feet.
“So.” Sharp little eyes regarded Friedrich II von Hohenstaufen, by God's Grace elected Roman Emperor, exalted sovereign, at all times furtherer of the Realm, and King in Sicily, Germany, and Jerusalem. “You’re this Emperor who wants me done away with?”
“Show some respect in front of the Emperor!” Reuben barked.
“Of course. Where are my manners.” And the robber knight spat onto the floor in front of Friedrich.
“You blaggard!” Reuben grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck. “How dare you insult His Imperial Majesty thusly?”
“Lick my ass, you shit-sucking fleebag!”
“Hold your tongue!”
“Or what? You’ll cut it out for me? Go burn in hell, you fawning, weather-bitten wagtail!”
“Shut up!” Reuben hissed. “This is the Emperor, you fool! God’s chosen ruler on earth!”
“God’s chosen ruler on earth can go kiss my a—“
“And there are ladies present!”
“Well, they can go and kiss my co—“
Not knowing what else to do, Reuben clamped a hand over the man’s mouth.
“I’m sorry, Your Imperial Majesty,” he apologized, feeling his face heat. “I cannot imagine where a knight, even one such as this, would have learned such foul language! And to use it in the presence of ladies—simply unforgivable!”
“Quite,” the Emperor agreed with a slight smile on his lips.
“Should I simply continue to hold him or—Ow!” Ripping his hand away from the robber knight’s mouth, Reuben stared at the man in disbelief. “He bit my finger!”
“You’re pox-marked, ruttish varlots, the lot of you!” bellowed Sir Franco. “You droning, dog-hearted haggards! Pigs! Paunchy, milk-livered—“
Wham!
Reuben’s fist coming down on his head cut the man off abruptly. Grunting, he crashed to the floor in front of the throne. A few of the ladies up on the gallery let out gasps of shock while, from the men, Reuben heard chuckles and sounds of approval.
The Emperor gazed down at the man lying in front of him. “Hm. I had intended to sentence him. But for that I’m afraid he needs to be conscious.”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Reuben said, shaking the pain out of his hand. “But I couldn’t simply let him continue with his insults! The ladies…”
“Very commendable, Sir Reuben, I’m sure. And it doesn’t matter. Guards, take the man away! Let him rot in the dungeon for a few days before I sentence him to death. It’ll give him time to think on his life and improve his language.”
“As you command, Your Imperial Majesty.” Stepping forward, two guards grasped the robber knight’s arms and dragged him off, to renewed cheers from the crowd up on the gallery.
“And now, Sir Reuben,” the Emperor said, turning his gaze on Reuben, “tell me, what can I do to reward your loyal service?”
Reuben glanced up at the gallery, up at the dozens of adoring female eyes resting on him.
He smiled.
“I need nothing, Sire. I have a feeling that the deed is going to be its own reward.”
*~*~**~*~*
Reuben’s feeling turned out to
be quite correct.
“Oh…Sir Reuben! Please…!”
Bending forward, Reuben brushed his nose along the cheek of Lady…what was her name again? He was sure it would come to him again in a moment.
“Please…Sir Reuben…”
He leaned closer. “I love you,” he whispered inter her ear, eliciting a whimper of delight. It was true, more or less. He loved her at the moment. He loved how little clothing she was wearing and how intimately the two of them were intertwined. He would probably stop loving her quite so much once she was dressed again, but that couldn’t be helped, now, could it?
“Oh, Sir Reuben,” Lady Something-or-other (He was sure that he would remember her name in a minute!) whispered. “I love you, too.”
Reuben nodded contentedly. Of course she did. Lately, all the ladies at the Imperial Court seemed to love him, and he did his best to reciprocate. Sometimes, he was worried that some of the things he did might be considered sinful or against the knightly code of honor, but that had easily been taken care of by hiring his own private priest and going to confession every morning after leaving his current love’s bedchamber.
“Then prove it,” he growled into the lady’s ear, moving his hand from her face to more interesting places. “Show me love with all your heart, soul, and body!”
“Ehem…Sir Reuben?”
Reuben froze.
“These interruptions,” he growled, “are beginning to get on my nerves.”
The servant who had entered the room—a different one, this time, but he seemed to have the same fascination with the ceiling tiles as his colleague and avoided looking anywhere else—shifted from one foot to the other.
“I know, Sir Reuben, but the Emperor desires your presence.”
Reuben brightened. “Another quest?”
“I don’t believe so, Sir, no. He has a lady as his guest who has expressed a desire to meet you.”
Well, that wasn’t as good as a quest, but at least there would be a lady to take the place of the one he had to walk away from.
“Forgive me, my love.” Taking the anonymous girl’s hands in his, Reuben kissed the back of them passionately. “My love pulls me inexorably towards you, but duty calls. I shall return as swift as the wind.”
