Saving a Maid from an Evil Knight
Long, long ago, when gallant knights and pretty maidens roamed the wild wastes of the Hinterland there lived a particular Knight who went by the name of Francis De Groot.
Now Sir Francis was rather a tyrant. Although he stole from the rich to give to the poor, and was the brave supporter of any fair lady, he was a mischievous old fellow. For instance, among his box of tricks was a favourite which he would pull forth, times without number. He would wait in the shade of a leafy elm until along the trail came a plump Nobleman riding alone. With sword in hand the rascally fellow would step out boldly and shout, “Stand and deliver to Sir Francis, the friend of the poor and needy.”
The stout Nobleman would sputter in anger whilst Sir Francis would ride alongside and go through his pockets. If the Nobleman was rather to bold and prone to defend himself, Sir Francis had a simple remedy… Just throw a noose round the Noblemans shoulders and yank him from his saddle. Then he would jump down and quickly tie a rope round the poor fellows’ legs and hoist him feet first up into a tree to cool off!
Sir Francis would ride off chuckling in high glee to look for his next prize.
One day, as Sir Francis roamed through the lush forest, with the birds singing merrily, and the hooves of his horse silent as they crushed the springy moss underfoot, he was awoken out of a pleasant slumber by the sound of angry shouting in a nearby thicket.
Reining in his horse, he lifted his head and listened… then he heard the sound again. It was too his left. A mans voice wildly bellowing. This is what Sir Francis heard:
“Horrid Knight! I will make you pay for this! This is my maiden, and I will die before I will surrender… you can fight to the death… either I die or you will! I will NEVER surrender to you!”
Sir Francis rode closer to get a view of the speaker. Then quietly dismounting he tied his horse to a nearby tree and wandered through a virgin oak grove to where he saw a group of figures standing. His valiant heart was stirred by the sight which met his wondering gaze, and it caused him to reach for his sword…
Standing there in the midst of a clearing stood 2 men and a young woman. One huge fellow was dressed in black armour with a Red Dragons Crest on his shield. He had a shield in one hand and a battle axe in the other. He was truly an ugly fearsome sight. The other man was dressed in armour of the brightest silver. He was a young fellow of somewhat slender build. He only had a sword… his shield was split in two and lay on the ground nearby. His armour was badly dented from previous fighting, and he swayed as though rather weary. What made Sir Francis’ blood really boil though was the young woman… clothed in only a long white silk tunic with her arms tied behind her back. The young maid was fastened to a tree with a chain round her middle. Her tunic was badly torn and covered with mud… she was cut in numerous places and had blood gushing from a wound in her arm. As she watched her Hero fighting for her life she sobbed quietly…
As Sir Francis swift gaze took all this in, the wicked black knight charged towards the silver clad fellow. Just as the black knight lashed out with his axe, the silver knight ducked, but being so weary, he didn’t quite get out of the way in time. The axe hit him on the side of the head, but although not with the full force as intended, it still laid the poor fellow low. With a bellow of glee the evil knight raised the huge axe once more... and swung it for the final death swing… BUT! He was too late… Sir Francis had raced silently up behind, and as the axe began to descend Sir Francis swung his sword and killed the black hearted fellow.
Sir Francis reached down and removed the silver clad knight’s helmet. Pulling a flask from his belt he washed the young fellows face and revived him. Then quickly arising he returned to the pretty maiden chained to the tree. He soon released her and took her to a nearby brook to wash and bandage her wounds. The kindly knight then lit a fire and cooked a meal with some meat he retrieved from his saddlebag… the aroma of frying venison filled the cool forest air and made the weary ones feel ever so much better.
After making their fill, they thanked the heroic knight for his wonderful deeds and left the leafy glade arm in arm… the maiden and her knight. Sir Francis sat upon his stead and watched the pair depart… with a contented smile playing upon his lips. Another good deed done… more people made happy. Digging his spurs in he laughed for joy as he rode down the trail, satisfied that he was a tyrant in the eyes of the wealthy selfish men of this world. He considered himself the champion of the poor and needy… and I think he was right, don’t you?
Written 7th February 2011
By Adam R. B. Reeve
Now Sir Francis was rather a tyrant. Although he stole from the rich to give to the poor, and was the brave supporter of any fair lady, he was a mischievous old fellow. For instance, among his box of tricks was a favourite which he would pull forth, times without number. He would wait in the shade of a leafy elm until along the trail came a plump Nobleman riding alone. With sword in hand the rascally fellow would step out boldly and shout, “Stand and deliver to Sir Francis, the friend of the poor and needy.”
The stout Nobleman would sputter in anger whilst Sir Francis would ride alongside and go through his pockets. If the Nobleman was rather to bold and prone to defend himself, Sir Francis had a simple remedy… Just throw a noose round the Noblemans shoulders and yank him from his saddle. Then he would jump down and quickly tie a rope round the poor fellows’ legs and hoist him feet first up into a tree to cool off!
Sir Francis would ride off chuckling in high glee to look for his next prize.
One day, as Sir Francis roamed through the lush forest, with the birds singing merrily, and the hooves of his horse silent as they crushed the springy moss underfoot, he was awoken out of a pleasant slumber by the sound of angry shouting in a nearby thicket.
Reining in his horse, he lifted his head and listened… then he heard the sound again. It was too his left. A mans voice wildly bellowing. This is what Sir Francis heard:
“Horrid Knight! I will make you pay for this! This is my maiden, and I will die before I will surrender… you can fight to the death… either I die or you will! I will NEVER surrender to you!”
Sir Francis rode closer to get a view of the speaker. Then quietly dismounting he tied his horse to a nearby tree and wandered through a virgin oak grove to where he saw a group of figures standing. His valiant heart was stirred by the sight which met his wondering gaze, and it caused him to reach for his sword…
Standing there in the midst of a clearing stood 2 men and a young woman. One huge fellow was dressed in black armour with a Red Dragons Crest on his shield. He had a shield in one hand and a battle axe in the other. He was truly an ugly fearsome sight. The other man was dressed in armour of the brightest silver. He was a young fellow of somewhat slender build. He only had a sword… his shield was split in two and lay on the ground nearby. His armour was badly dented from previous fighting, and he swayed as though rather weary. What made Sir Francis’ blood really boil though was the young woman… clothed in only a long white silk tunic with her arms tied behind her back. The young maid was fastened to a tree with a chain round her middle. Her tunic was badly torn and covered with mud… she was cut in numerous places and had blood gushing from a wound in her arm. As she watched her Hero fighting for her life she sobbed quietly…
As Sir Francis swift gaze took all this in, the wicked black knight charged towards the silver clad fellow. Just as the black knight lashed out with his axe, the silver knight ducked, but being so weary, he didn’t quite get out of the way in time. The axe hit him on the side of the head, but although not with the full force as intended, it still laid the poor fellow low. With a bellow of glee the evil knight raised the huge axe once more... and swung it for the final death swing… BUT! He was too late… Sir Francis had raced silently up behind, and as the axe began to descend Sir Francis swung his sword and killed the black hearted fellow.
Sir Francis reached down and removed the silver clad knight’s helmet. Pulling a flask from his belt he washed the young fellows face and revived him. Then quickly arising he returned to the pretty maiden chained to the tree. He soon released her and took her to a nearby brook to wash and bandage her wounds. The kindly knight then lit a fire and cooked a meal with some meat he retrieved from his saddlebag… the aroma of frying venison filled the cool forest air and made the weary ones feel ever so much better.
After making their fill, they thanked the heroic knight for his wonderful deeds and left the leafy glade arm in arm… the maiden and her knight. Sir Francis sat upon his stead and watched the pair depart… with a contented smile playing upon his lips. Another good deed done… more people made happy. Digging his spurs in he laughed for joy as he rode down the trail, satisfied that he was a tyrant in the eyes of the wealthy selfish men of this world. He considered himself the champion of the poor and needy… and I think he was right, don’t you?
Written 7th February 2011
By Adam R. B. Reeve