The Knight of Turnips and Weeds

I’m getting too old to be a squire.

Thought Tommus as he swung the saddle over his knight’s steed. Sir Pony, the old warhorse who spent his entire life eating carrots and apples far from any war-torn battlefield, shook with annoyance.

“There, there. Plenty of apples and carrots await you. Just one more match. And it’ll probably end quickly. That our knight has made it this far is nothing short of a miracle. Perhaps we’ve earned the gods’ favor, or they just have sick sense of humor. Either way, just one more match and we’re done.”

Tommus took a brush out and began to brush the backside of Sir Pony, glancing out at the packed stands before them. Crests of all the knights hung along the railings. The one with a red dragon insignia blazed upon left a pit in his gut.

Then from over Sir Pony’s rump, Tommus saw his knight. Striding forward in the glory of a true champion. The beams of sunlight gleamed off her armor enough to hide most of the rust. Though the entire suit of mismatched armaments threatened to come apart at every step she took, there was no hiding that. Behind her a thick stableboy carried her lances. The clumsy way in which they hobbled in his grasp made Tommus worry that one misstep would spell the end for the knight, and Sir Pony would get his apples even sooner.

“Master Tommus! The gods shine upon us on this day! Just one more victory and the tournament is ours!” She hollered out as she raised a rusted fist.

He put on his charlatan grin and saluted with his brush, full of Sir Pony’s grey fur. “Aye, just one more lancing and it’ll be over. Tell me, what have you heard of Sir Gideon the Dragon?”

The knight laughed with a nod, the very simple movement almost sent her masked helmet slipping off her face, “Who hasn’t heard of Sir Gideon the Dragon? His feats of strength are renown amongst the lands!”

Tommus pointed his brush at her, “Correct! He’s a knight of great strength! Would be no shame to fall to the likes of him…”

Though he could not read her expression underneath her dented faceplate, Tommus could feel her stare. “Are you insinuating I lose on purpose?”

Tommus laughed at that the thought of her losing on ‘purpose’. As if she stood a chance of winning. As perhaps the kingdom’s oldest squire, he knew he had to impart his wisdom upon the next generation. And this knight was in desperate need.

“Well not so much on purpose but just make sure you go down on the first lancing. No one would blame you.”

The old squire did not like the silent reaction of his knight as she stood there motionless.

“I will not forsake my honor, faithful squire.”

“Oh, for the-what exact honor do you speak of dear knight? You bested your last opponent out of sheer luck, and still took you seven lances to do so! The one before that fell off his horse in a drunken stupor and the first one never even showed up! But Sir Gideon? He’s a war hero. And he’s been winning these tournaments for the past several seasons now. He belongs to a great house! What house do you belong to? The house of potatoes? Are you the knight of turnips?

More silence was her response before snapping a lance from the stable boy and hefting herself upon Sir Pony. “After today, I will be the knight of slaying dragons!”

Tommus chuckled at that despite himself but still sighed deeply as he took Sir Pony’s reigns and led him and his rider to the end of the listings.

Fanfare suddenly erupted from the crowds, and Tommus eyed the object of their adoration at the other ending of the listings.

Sir Gideon the Dragon. His black and red crested armor seemed sharp enough to slay a dragon itself. His helm shaped like the face of a dragon itself. His steed was black as night with stone mason carved muscles gleaming in the sunlight.

“Are you sure an easy fall doesn’t sound bad now?”

There was silence that made Tommus feel as if his words had impact, until she spoke, “This chest plate I wear was the armor of Sir Justus correct?”

The old squire laughed nervously at that. He had indeed told her it was, but the truth was chest plate was buried with the legendary hero. What she bore now was just some piece of metal he had managed to come upon. Yet he could not find himself speaking the truth for some reason now. “Indeed it is!.”

“Then have faith in me as you did as his squire.”

A bard near the stands announced the knights. Sir Gideon received all the applause and seemed to grow bigger because of it. The bard told the knights to ready themselves. Tommus and the stable boy backed away.

“Start saying your prayers now boy.”

“I know none.”

“Well make one up then!”

The horn was sounded, and Sir Gideon’s steed kicked up dirt and grass as it soared down the listing. His red tipped lance aiming at Tommus’s knight. Sir Pony charge was less impressive-far less-as it seemed that the horn had startled him instead, and it took a good heel kick in the rump to send him trotting.

Tommus winced at the sight of the hedge knight’s wobbly grip upon her lance. She seemed to be fighting with it and Sir Pony at the same time.

The knights were coming upon each other, “Here it comes…” Tommus closed his eyes entirely and could only hear the metallic blow. When he opened them again, he saw the shadowy image of Sir Gideon passing by him, raising his lance to a wave of cheers. On the opposite side of the listing, he saw his knight approaching him, unfortunately still upon Sir Pony’s back but with a knew dent in the chest plate that was not Sir Justus’s.

“I see you didn’t take my advice,” Tommus said as she trotted up upon him.

“Tis but a flesh wound,” she said in a clenched voice.

The horn sounded and this time Sir Pony was not startled by it but seemed no more eager to rush down the listings. It took a mighty heel kick to the rump than before to get him sprinting. Meanwhile Sir Gideon was gliding down the listing.

Tommus closed his eyes once more as they came to blows. BSSH! The metallic sound of denting metal echoed in his very ears, and he winced at the sight of his knight dangling desperately onto the side of Sir Pony, before wrangling herself upon the steed.

“She’s one tough bastard, you have to give her that,” Tommus muttered.

“I wouldn’t know, haven’t met much bastards meself,” replied the stable boy.

Sir Gideon trotted back down the listings to the cheering of the crowd, as the Dumpling Knight came trotting back bent over her steed.

“How about now, oh Great Knight of Weeds?”

She reached out with an even more clenched voice, “A new lance.”

“Ah yes, the lance is the problem! Of course!”

The faithful stable boy handed her a new lance but not before dropping the others to the ground. Tommus rolled his eyes as he grabbed one and lifted it to his knight, “What could be worth all this pain to you?”

She was silent to that, but he felt got his answer in the fierce way she pulled the lance to her.

The horn was sounded once more, and they were off. Sir Pony did not require a hard kick, yet his charge was a pale comparison to the stallion carrying death upon its back.

Tommus eyes gazed over to the Royal Duke's box, where two crimson flags over the box’s railing displayed the two points that Sir Gideon had won.

“He’ll end it now. It’s disgraceful for a knight not to be able to ground their opponent after three attempts.”

“How many is three?”

“Gods above…”

The knight of turnips seemed to be hugging her chest with her shield arm, but he had to admit she had a firmer grip on her lance. It wouldn’t be enough to ground a dragon though, he knew. Tommus waited for the finishing blow.

Suddenly, the red tipped lance drove upwards and pierced the side of her helmet. She was thrown back losing her lance, but held tight to the reins. Her helmet though, was twisted backwards around her face, and as such, she almost led Sir Ponty straight into the wooden listing itself.

Tommus felt his blood boil as the crowd laughed at his knight stumbling with her steed, struggling with the reins and helmet. Then Sir Gideon strode up to him.

“Your knight is quite skilled, old squire. Perhaps I could use her services as my next listing dummy,” a metallic laugh echoed forth from his dragon crest helmet before he turned and rode off to the cheers of the crowd.

Anger boiling over and despite himself once again, he went sprinting down the listing. Old muscles aching and bones screeching. The sight of the old squire racing down to aid his blind knight brought more laughing jeers, but it only served to fuel his rage.

“Come here blasted girl!” he grasped onto the reins and guided her back. He threw down his stool and reached up, adjusting the knight’s helmet.

“Tis but a-“

“Quiet! Listen, he’s going to pull the same dirty trick as before, he’s playing with you! Here’s what you do. Simply twist at the last second, right when you’re about two lance distances away from him. Twist at the hips and drove that lance straight into that bastard’s lancing shoulder! You hear?”

Again, silence from his knight, but he could tell she understood. He handed her a new lance and gave Sir Pony a might slap on the rump before descending his stool.

Tommus watched as his knight went to the listings. “Let’s see what you got kid…”

“I’ve only got two copper-“

“Not you kid!”

The horn was sounded. The knight of turnips held her lance tightly to her body. Sir Pony seemed to charge more like battle horse now too even. Sir Gideon on the other hand, charged lightly. His shield arm was lowered as if he cradled a wine glass in it.

Tommus’s eyes squinted as he waited for the next movements. ‘Four, Three, Two, NOW KID!’

Sir Gideon’s lance rose up to pierce her faceplate but was met with open air as the rusted knight twisted and thrust her lance upon his shoulder. It was enough to get a half rotate from him on his saddle and to draw gasped breaths from the crowd. As Sir Gideon came upon Tommus, the old squire hollered, “Your father was a sackless lizard!”

The Knight of Second Chances came riding up with gusto and Tommus eagerly took the reins. He pointed with delight at the sight of a green rag flag being tossed over the railings to signify her point.

“Okay, pride says he can’t not try it again! Just do the same as before! This time lean more into the twist, and raise your lance upwards to give him a taste of his own medicine!”

Her dented helmet gave a nod, “Now that Sir Justus’s squire believes in me, I will too!”

Tommus sighed at that, “Girl, Sir Justus is just a legend.”

“As will I be someday!”

The horn sounded, and the knights were off. Sir Pony rode more like Sir Warhorse, and Sir Gideon held his shield arm closer to his chest. Tommus found himself standing with closed fists and chanting.

The two collided, this time Sir Gideon’s lance merely glanced off her helmet before she rotated away, and her lance struck upon his helmet. Sir Gideon was struggling to hang onto his steed as he strode past the old squire and the stable boy, who both danced arm in arm and sang, “SACKLESS LIZARD SACKLESS LIZARD!”

However, a sudden dark feeling came into the pit of Tommus’s stomach at the sight of Sir Gideon’s steed exploding down the listings. He pushed the stable boy away from him as he watched his knight coming back to the cheers of the crowd.

When she came close, he reached for her reins. Her voice was cheerful as she said, “That makes two!”

“Yes, and two is enough for a knight of your stature! Remember you are a knight of flour and biscuits. That is a knight of war and steel. It’s time to stop playing. He’s going to intend to do you harm this time, and you’ll need to go down.” He pulled the reins closer to him, “Do you understand me?”

Again, silence, but he could feel her stare. “I will NOT forsake my honor.”

“What honor?” Tommus suddenly burst forth laughing, “You know what? You have some honor now, so take that honor and take the fall! Second place you’ll have earned more coin than anyone in whatever village you hail from has ever seen in their life. You can buy all the turnips you want! Buy a husband with more than two teeth and the nicest mud hut coin can buy! But you must take the fall now!”

More silence, and her eventual response came when she snatched the reins back.

The horn sounded, and it echoed a more deadly air to Tommus now. The knights charged off to the now deafening roar of the crowd. Tommus now chanted, ‘take the fall take the fall’. He could even hear the chant coming from the stable boy.

But the knight of lambs did no such thing. While her lance made contact, it burst into splinters upon the mighty armor of Sir Gideon as he ran his lance straight through her. She was knocked practically off her horse, hanging on with just one hand as she lay flat backed against Sir Pony’s rump. The crowd roared with approval.

As Sir Gideon came upon Tommus, he bellowed out to him, “Forget listing dummy, I shall use your knight’s blood to water the flowers instead!”

Tommus swallowed down his fear as he heard the stable boy whisper faintly “…sackless lizard.” And then Tommus’s heart fell as he watched his knight approach, still half hanging from her saddle. His voice gentler now as he reached out to her, “What more do you have left to prove? Just take the fall and return to your village a hero!”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, “…There are no turnips where I hail from, faithful squire. No potatoes, and certainly no lambs. Only death, black death, and the dirt of my family’s graves await me home.”

A sinking feeling came over him. Yet his hands did not pull her from her saddle and instead lifted her up. Into it. He did not think she would manage it, but she gripped a new lance with great strength and held it upright.

“Do you believe in me, old Squire?”

Tommus was dumbfounded. “Why did you seek me out, you stupid girl.”

“Because of your stories, as a great knight and great teacher of knights. I wish to be counted amongst them, to stand alongside Sir Justus and the others. I wish that my stories will reach other girls in villages like mine…so they will have a knight of turnips to look up to.”

Tommus swallowed, “Stupid girl…aye I believe you.”

The horn sounded and the dragon blasted off down the listing, his pauldrons extending like the spiked wings of a dragon. And to answer him, Sir Pony reared up in a mighty cry as the knight of plagues and death lifted her lance high into the sky. Then the two of them charged down the listing to slay a dragon.

There was no cheering, only hushed silence, except for the whispered prayers of the stable boy behind Tommus. The old squire’s eyes trailed behind his knight. Following her all the way to the end, just before he saw Sir Gideon’s lance move upwards, and then he looked away.

There was a mighty clash, followed by silence. Tommus saw the wide eyed expression on the stable boy and did not wish to view the carnage himself. Then, from the corner of his eyes, he saw a dark shape trot past him. It was a riderless black steed that charged aimlessly towards the stables. Tommus spun around with much fury then, only to see Sir Gideon laying flat on his back. Black gauntlet hands dangling up towards the sky, as if picking dandelions from the clouds.

Then Tommus’s heart soared as he saw his knight-the Knight of Dreams-trotting down the listing to the sudden cheers of the crowd. Even the Royal Duke stood up and joined in the applause. Tommus could almost kiss the stable boy, until he saw his knight fall off Sir Pony.

‘Dear gods, no’ He ran as fast as his tired and aching legs could carry him to where his knight laid. He reached down and lifted the faceplate to see a bloodied face. Another hand reached underneath her neck and cradled her there. He could feel the coldness in her flesh and the warmth leaving her body. Yet her eyes were spirited as they stared back up at him.

“I told you I would slay the dragon…” she stuttered.

Tommus grinned with tears in his eyes, “Aye, you did, and now stories of you will tell of the fool I was for not believing in you.”

“But you did…in the end.”

“Yes, now go on peacefully and return return Sir Justus’s chest plate to her.”

With her in his hands, the Knight of Turnips left this mortal plane of turnips and weeds, and ascended to the clouds where no plague or graves could hold her.