The Table of Less Valued Knights (2 page)

BOOK: The Table of Less Valued Knights
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Edwin, Humphrey noted, spoke as if each of his words was going to be taken down for posterity.

‘Please,’ finished Edwin, ‘would one of you gentlemen be good enough to assist me in finding my beloved?’ He held out his arms beseechingly.

As soon as he’d finished speaking, most of the Round Table knights jumped up to accept the quest. Whoever volunteered the fastest would be given the task, and in the weeks leading up to Pentecost, many of the knights practised leaping, so that they would be the first to their feet. There was a special eminence attached to the Pentecost quest, the successful completion of which might move you up the table a few seats closer to the King.

To Humphrey’s disgust, though not his surprise, the swiftest to rise was Sir Dorian Pendoggett. Sir Dorian was the Errant
Companion who had taken Humphrey’s spot at the Round Table when Humphrey was demoted to Less Valued status. Humphrey was therefore predisposed to disliking him, but even so, he was convinced Dorian was genuinely insufferable, swaggering through Camelot as if he was Percival himself, and always bowing with an exaggerated flourish to Humphrey when they passed in the corridors of the castle, which was worse than not bowing at all. He hung around Gareth, Gaheris and Gawain, who Humphrey assumed tolerated him out of politeness, and claimed to be ‘like a brother’ to them, which was patently untrue. He’d tried to flirt with the Grail Maiden, who was a virgin inviolate. And he was always looking out for the quest that would get him into a poem.

Well, it seemed that he had found it. And with the Pentecost quest underneath his gold-buckled belt, he would be clawing his way still further up the Round Table hierarchy, while Humphrey continued to plummet inexorably downwards.

‘Thank you, good Sir Dorian,’ said King Arthur, ‘and best of courage to you!’

Sir Dorian glowed with smugness. ‘I live to serve,’ he said, with a bow. Edwin returned the bow, though his was not quite so low as Dorian’s.

‘And now,’ Arthur announced to the room, ‘we dine!’

The assembled knights cheered as the roast swan was brought out, but Humphrey found that he had lost his appetite.

Two

After the other knights had gone to their beds, or, in Lancelot’s case, to the Queen’s, Humphrey lingered in the empty hall. With everyone gone, it seemed impossibly huge, with its double-height ceiling, the long eyelet windows, the minstrels’ gallery above, and the twin fireplaces at either end of the room, each bigger than most of the peasant huts on the Camelot estate. He had belonged here once, truly belonged, before Castle Maudit and everything that had happened there. He’d been proud to be a Knight of the Round Table, had sent excitable letters full of his adventures home to his mother, may she rest in peace. That was a long time ago. He made his way over to his old seat, about a third of the way down the east side of the circle, not a bad position by any means. He sat down. It was more comfortable than his chair now – the Round Table knights got cushions. Humphrey ran his finger along a scratch on the table in front of him, softened with age but still deep, from the time that Sir Kay had thrown a knife during an argument with Lancelot, after the latter had nicked his armour. If Sir Kay hadn’t been the King’s brother, he’d have been busted down to Less Valued Knight a long time ago.

The door to the Great Hall opened with a bang, and Humphrey started, embarrassed to be caught sitting at the forbidden table. But it wasn’t a knight, or even a servant. It was a girl. She was wearing a long grey cloak with the hood thrown back, revealing her windswept golden hair. She was pretty, he noticed, though
she looked tired, and she was staring around the room with an expression of dismay.

‘I missed it,’ she said. ‘I was told they would wait.’

‘Can I help you?’ said Humphrey, standing.

‘I rode as fast as I could,’ said the girl.

‘You came here alone? A maiden shouldn’t be riding alone, especially not at night.’

‘So they say,’ said the girl. ‘Though I’ve noticed that if you do ride alone, other people tend to give you a wide berth. They probably think only a witch would go out by herself. So really it’s fine.’ She smiled, then sighed. ‘Anyway, it looks like there was no point. I got lost in the dark – I’ve never been to Camelot before – it’s big, isn’t it? And now everyone’s gone.’

‘I’m not gone,’ said Humphrey. ‘Sir Humphrey du Val.’ He bowed.

The girl’s eyes widened.

‘Humphrey? Really? That’s such an old man’s name.’

‘It was my father’s. And his father’s, and his father’s, and so on.’

‘And have you blessed your son with this fine name too?’

Humphrey hesitated. ‘I don’t have a son,’ he said. ‘What’s your name?’

‘I’m Elaine. Another Elaine.’ Every second maiden in the land was called Elaine. ‘Lady Elaine du Mont, of Tuft.’

Humphrey nodded. He’d heard of the du Monts – they were a good family, but were known to have fallen on hard times. He looked more closely at the girl. Her cloak was well cut but faded, and some tears had been neatly repaired.

‘I was told that, if I came tonight, somebody would be sure to take on my quest,’ Elaine continued.

Her quest? Her
quest
? This new piece of information made the world shift just enough to make sense, like the jiggle that you gave a poorly cut key to make it turn in the lock. An arrogant prince consort who was pretending to be a king couldn’t
possibly be the bringer of the Pentecost quest. The court had simply assumed that he was, because he’d happened to arrive on Pentecost. What if it was just coincidence? Humphrey thought of Sir Dorian and chuckled to himself. He’d been so quick to jump up! And now here Humphrey was, alone on Pentecost night with a damsel in distress, a damsel with a quest. Though of course he wasn’t supposed to go on quests. What he was supposed to do was wake Arthur, so that a Round Table knight could be assigned.

‘Would you like to sit down?’ said Humphrey. ‘You must be tired from your journey.’

‘Thank you, that’s very kind,’ said Elaine.

She pulled up one of the chairs at the Round Table – Sir Gaheris’s – examined a few of the leftover jugs of wine, and helped herself to a healthy cupful.

‘Do you want some?’ she said. ‘There’s loads left.’

‘Um, yes, I suppose so,’ said Humphrey, slightly taken aback.

Elaine poured him a glass. He had a mouthful. This wine was definitely not watered down.

‘You mentioned a quest,’ he prompted.

Elaine nodded, her face pinched with anxiety. ‘I’m supposed to be getting married,’ she said. ‘My parents held a tournament for my hand, just under a week ago. It was awful. It started with a melee, this horrible free-for-all fight, dozens of people were hurt, you can’t imagine how terrible it was. Well, I suppose you can, being a knight. But I could hardly bear to watch. Then after that there was a joust for those left standing, to decide the ultimate victor. So many knights were riding with my colours that I might as well have ripped up my whole dress and handed it out as streamers.’

‘Who won?’ said Humphrey.

‘This is the thing,’ said Elaine. ‘All those men got injured, in my name, but the winner was always going to be Sir Alistair Gilbert. He’s not a Sir by birth, he’s a knight at King Leo’s court.
His family have money but no name. That was the exchange. It was prearranged, the tourney was just for show.’

‘So if I’d entered, I couldn’t have won?’

‘Luckily for you, no, because otherwise in two weeks’ time I’d be your wife.’ Elaine smiled for a moment, then her sombre look returned.

‘And you don’t want to marry this Sir Alistair?’ said Humphrey.

‘It’s not that,’ said Elaine. ‘He’d be a good husband, I think. I mean, I barely know him. But he’s from a wealthy family, which is all that matters as far as my parents are concerned. And he seems kind, which is all that matters to me. Well, not all, but … Under the circumstances, it’s enough.’

‘He sounds like a good choice. And Alistair is a better name than Humphrey.’ He was trying to get her to smile again. ‘You could call him Al. If you married me, you’d have to call me Humph.’

Elaine did smile again, but her face seemed strained.

‘So what went wrong?’ said Humphrey, more seriously.

‘Sir Alistair got kidnapped. Right at the end of the tournament. After he won, he dismounted and came over to the stands. I was presented to him, as if I were some kind of cup. He took my hands in his, looked into my eyes – very romantic, if you’re not the prize in a competition.’ A note of bitterness had entered Elaine’s voice. ‘We pledged our troth. And then out of nowhere comes this knight in black armour, visor down of course. He gallops up, smacks Sir Alistair on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword, knocks him out cold, picks up his body before it has a chance to fall to the ground, throws him over the front of his horse, and gallops away. I was terrified. The other knights tried to stop him, but they were all so exhausted from the tourney that they couldn’t catch up with him. So the Black Knight got away.’

‘Any hint of where he went? Ransom demands, anything?’

‘Nothing. We waited and waited, we were sure we’d hear
something, but no word came. And I need to find him. Urgently. Our family – we’re not a wealthy family, Sir Humphrey. And I’m the only daughter. My parents are relying on me. And …’ Elaine stopped. She took a breath and composed her face. ‘Well, that’s enough, isn’t it?’

It was more than enough. A proper quest for a proper damsel in distress. The Pentecost quest, no less. If Humphrey found this Sir Alistair, if he reunited these lovers, that was exactly the kind of thing that might get him back onto the Round Table, or at least onto the Table of Errant Companions. He had to get this girl out of Camelot before anybody else spotted her.

‘We must leave right away,’ said Humphrey.

‘You’re taking on my quest?’ said Elaine.

‘Of course. I have vowed to give all maidens succour. In fact I retook that very vow today. We’ll ride through the night. Time is of the essence when it comes to a kidnap.’ He glossed over the fact that it had already been almost a week since Sir Alistair had disappeared.

‘Thank you.’ Now Elaine smiled, a true smile which lit up her eyes, unlike all the smiles that had gone before. Then she tipped back the rest of her wine, shoved a couple of bread rolls in the pockets of her cloak, and jumped from her chair. ‘Let’s go,’ she said.

Three

Under the Pentecost moon, round and lovely as a baby’s cheek, they crept together across the deserted stable yard at the back of the castle.

‘Wait for me in here,’ said Sir Humphrey, opening the door to one of the stables.

Elaine went inside. Moments later, she screamed and came running back out.

‘What is that monster?’ she said.

‘What monster? Oh, sorry. I’m so accustomed to her now, I forgot to warn you. She’s not a monster. She’s totally harmless. She’s an elephant.’

‘An elephant? What’s an elephant?’

Humphrey gestured towards the stall.

‘Where did you find such a creature?’ said Elaine.

‘She’s from Africa.’

‘Africa!’ Elaine’s face brightened. ‘You’ve been to Africa? How wonderful. What’s it like? Is it full of monsters? Will you tell me all about it on the ride?’

Humphrey shook his head, a little abashed. ‘I’ve never been. I bought the elephant from a travelling circus that was visiting the castle.’

‘Oh. But why did you buy an elephant?’

Humphrey smiled. ‘You’ll see. Don’t worry. She’s very friendly. Her name’s Jemima. If you want her eternal loyalty, grab a carrot from that pile of vegetables and feed it to her. They’re her
favourites. Hold it out on your palm and she’ll take it with her trunk.’

‘Her trunk?’

‘That long nose thing.’

‘She eats with her nose?’

‘Not exactly. Try it and see. Anyway, I shouldn’t be too long. I just need to find my squire and get some things together for the trip. If anyone asks …’

‘Oh, believe me, I’ve come up with a lie about what I’m doing in a stable before. I’ll be fine.’

Elaine went back inside and shut the door behind her.

‘Hello, Jemima,’ Humphrey heard her say.

He grinned to himself and then went out past the stable block to the old barn to find Conrad. He had been moved there when he got too tall for the main castle, and although he complained continuously about the cold, Humphrey reckoned that he enjoyed the privacy. He was free to drink as much ale and smoke as much hemp as he wanted, and no doubt he would sneak in those local girls who were curious about being with a larger man. With Humphrey never leaving the castle, there was very little squiring on the agenda. It seemed like a decent enough life to Humphrey. It never occurred to him that Conrad might actually want to work.

He opened the barn door without knocking. Conrad was sprawled face down on the huge pallet that served as his bed, alone, mercifully, and wearing his (very) long underwear, also mercifully – Humphrey had no desire to see his squire’s hirsute backside. The floor of the barn was strewn with discarded clothes, empty bottles, half-eaten plates of food, a couple of books, at least one of which had tawdry illustrations, bits of armour, and various other forms of detritus that Humphrey would rather not identify.

‘Time to get up!’ said Humphrey.

Conrad opened his eyes, closed them again, and groaned. ‘It’s the middle of the night,’ he said.

‘I know,’ said Humphrey.

‘Go away,’ said Conrad, mostly into his pillow.

‘No. We’re going on a quest.’

‘Not funny.’

‘Really.’

After a moment or two, Conrad turned his head towards Humphrey, revealing the volcanic spots that covered his face.

‘Really really?’

‘Yep.’

‘We don’t go on quests. You don’t go on quests.’

‘We do now.’

Conrad sat up. ‘It’s Pentecost. I was just out with the squires. How can we … We’re going on the Pentecost quest?’

‘Get my armour and pack us both a bag.’

‘Did everybody else die?’

‘Of course everybody didn’t die, Conrad.’

‘Well then, why are they letting you go?’

‘They aren’t letting me. They don’t know.’

BOOK: The Table of Less Valued Knights
12.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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