A Knight in Rusty Armor E-Book

Yuval Shomron

• Herausgeber: tredition
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 149

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

This is a story of the times immediately following the crusades. A time of peace and building. Follow the stories of four young men looking for their future roles in life. Their families, their loves, the hardship and victories of the times. This is a fantasy full of description and humor which keeps you guessing from chapter to chapter. Young and old will enjoy following the tales of knights and kings, horses and dragons, maidens and servants.

Leseprobe

A Knight in Rusty Armor

by Yuval Shomron

Dear Readers,

I am bringing you this story because it seems to have been lost in the annuls of history. In fact, I may be the only one who has managed to find it. It is a story worth repeating for its valor and compassion. A story which many of you will relate to, having experienced some of the same challenges faced by its heroes.

I personally believe it could be true, although many details may have been construed or embellished over the centuries and through numerous oral translations.

In any case, I hope you will enjoy this amazing tale and pass it down to future generations so that it will live again.

Yuval the Storyteller

ISBN: 978-3-347-42171-4 (Paperback)

ISBN: 978-3-347-42172-1 (Hardcover)

ISBN: 978-3-347-42173-8 (e-Book)

Contents

Chapter 1 – Here We Go

Chapter 2 – The Castle

Chapter 3 – Knight School

Chapter 4 – Chapel

Chapter 5 – Training Begins

Chapter 6 – Bareback

Chapter 7 – No Place Like Home

Chapter 8 – Scroll Learning

Chapter 9 – The Second Family Visit

Chapter 10 – Real Horses

Chapter 11 – Living Off the Land

Chapter 12 – Tragedy Strikes

Chapter 13 – What Now?

Chapter 14 – Defeating a Dragon

Chapter 15 – Fighting with Armor

Chapter 16 – Making “Piece”

Chapter 17 – A Damsel in Distress

Chapter 18 – Great Celebration

Epilogue

Chapter 1 – Here We Go

Kelvin grew up on a small farm somewhere in central Europe in a kingdom which has long been forgotten. He was the youngest of five robust children, having two older brothers and two older sisters. He was a late comer, being 10 years younger than his next sibling. He wasn’t much use to his father Henry as a helper, being skinny and a bit silly. But his dad loved him and pretty much let him run barefoot and wild over their poor scraggly countryside.

His best friend, David, was in a similar situation from the adjoining few acres he called home. Together they imagined adventures and explored the creeks and caves in the area, hoping to find treasure, or at the very least, bring home a fish or two for their families for supper.

The two fathers were also best friends since their youth. Henry had some twenty cows, a few chickens, and cultivated a few acres of wheat and barley, the latter of which he used to make ale.

David’s papa Cletus on the other hand, raised pigs and ducks and geese, so that there was no real competition between the families. Together they provided meat, milk, eggs and ale for the king’s court, and there was enough left over for the nearby villagers who didn’t have their own means of supplying these basic needs.

It was a quiet time in the kingdom. Most of the local heroes had returned safely from the crusades and settled into domestic life with their childhood sweethearts. But their stories of conquering enemies abounded and grew in grandeur with each telling. Kelvin and David loved sitting at the feet of the aging knights and hearing of the glory of their battles.

A few of them still worked part-time as guards for the king as a sort of reserve troop just in case a skirmish with the lands nearby popped up. But one never did. King Hubert was a benevolent ruler and got along well with the neighboring tribes. Most agreed that almost 200 years of fighting had been enough. It was time to build castles and cathedrals and try to better the lives of the people depending on their leadership.

This was of course ages before the industrial revolution. Everything from shoe making to wagon building had to be done by hand. The only thing in the nearby village of Tilsit resembling progress was the water-powered grain mill on the small river winding its way through the valley. Kelvin and David liked to sit and watch the wheel turn and figure out how it worked. They were both intelligent and curious. Although it was unusual in those days, they had taught themselves how to read by looking at road signs and any other lettering they could find since they hadn’t anything else more interesting to do. Lillian, an old spinster in Tilsit was educated in the courts of the castle in her younger days and was happy to help them in their quest for knowledge. She had managed to hand copy some of the king’s edicts and used them for passing on the skill.

Lillian was the daughter of Rudolf, the chief stone cutter for the king. He was well known as a master craftsman, having overseen the building of churches in each of the seven villages in the kingdom after the crusades. The king of course had his own small chapel built first within the courtyard of his castle but deemed it important that all the people under his authority would have access to the gospel. As part of his payment, the king had granted Rudolf a small parcel of land beside the church in Tilsit that he used to build his own stone house.

It was in this house, which Lillian had inherited after her father’s death, that she helped tutor the local children. Her favorites were definitely Kelvin and David. In fact, they were the only ones who showed any real interest.

Lillian also served as the Sunday school teacher and made the history in the bible come alive with drawings and play acting. Bibles were still hand copied before the invention of the printing press so only the rich could afford one, which often came in several volumes. King Hubert had one and allowed the local priests and scholars to copy passages under the supervision of a servant who carefully opened the scrolls for them.

Kelvin’s father thought the pursuit of education was a waste of time but let his son babble on about it anyway. He figured it couldn’t hurt, and perhaps one day there would be some use for deciphering things written. He believed arithmetic was most useful for counting cows and weighing the grain taken to the mill, so let the young lad busy himself with those tasks.

When the boy turned 16, his father approached him after church one Sunday afternoon. “Son, after the recent drought we are just barely scraping by to feed the family on the farm. It’s time you found yourself an apprenticeship. Your brothers do most of the work anyway and your mother and I hope your sisters will soon find husbands to take care of them.

Start looking into the opportunities you hear about. As far as I’m concerned you can go anywhere and do anything your heart desires. But I would be happy if you don’t end up in such a distant place that I would have little hope of seeing you again. That, for me, would be extremely sad!”

Kelvin learned that evening that David’s papa had presented him with a similar ultimatum. They agreed immediately that whatever they did, they would do together. So early Monday morning they walked into the village and started their search.

The first building on the edge of civilization was the blacksmith’s workshop. He was known for making excellent plow blades and the occasional sword or two. They knew him well as he was one of their favorite returning crusaders who knew how to spin a good yarn and enhance it as time went on. Perhaps a life hammering hot iron would not be such a terrible job. Unfortunately, the blacksmith had a son of his own, and had no need for an apprentice. Any extra workers or pupils would have to be fed at least two meals a day and given a place to sleep. His meager earnings would not allow such a luxury.

The two employment seekers left feigning disappointment but laughed together a little farther down the dirt street. They didn’t actually want to be blacksmiths anyway but gave it a try in honor of their father’s trust.

Of course! The mill! Now that would be an ideal situation. Lunches with your feet dangling in the water after a grueling morning of providing flour for the mothers who baked bread three or four days each week.

The miller was standing in the doorway as they approached. He was looking weathered and tired and somewhat discouraged. Since the drought of the past season had lessened the wheat and barley harvest, he didn’t have much work. So, when Kelvin and David asked him about learning the milling trade, he told them that as much as he liked them, he barely made enough sovereigns to feed his own brood. But they could come anytime and dangle their feet in the flowing water. This was a disappointing answer, but not an unexpected one.

Their next stop would be the livery stables. This interested them because they had some experience with animals back home. They learned to ride on David’s father’s old plow horse. A slow plodding beast but tolerant enough to allow them to practice mounting him from every angle, even jumping on from the back. They pretended to be knights of the round table on secret missions for the queen, bringing back letters from distant cousins who had been reluctantly betrothed to ugly princes for the sake of peaceful relationships with power hungry masters.

The stables served two purposes. First and foremost was the taking care of the steeds of visitors who may need to stay a night or two in the village on a journey to somewhere more important. The second was providing a place to sleep for the riders themselves as the village had no inn. They had to be satisfied with a not-so-clean blanket spread on a pile of hay. By the way, the stable owner was often a source of laughter in the area because he himself had what people called a horse face. Long and large and a bit protruding. He was however a nice man, and listened as the boy’s told them of their fathers’ kicking them out of the proverbial nest and their encounters so far. He lamented that he could possibly let one of them learn to groom the horses and muck the stalls, but definitely could not handle the both of them. They told him that if they were unsuccessful at finding something together one of them may return.

Since it was getting close to dusk, they decided to stop by their old teacher friend and ask to spend the night, knowing that she often made a meat pie large enough to feed the three of them. She opened the door joyfully, seeing her two brightest pupils standing in front of it. As news travels fast in such a small place, she already knew what they had been seeking and had heard about their unsuccessful first day. She assured them that this was normal and was certain that two such wise lads would eventually discover the right path. After a couple of apples and a small glass of ale for dessert, they slept heavily on straw mattresses in Lillian’s parlor.

It seemed obvious to Lily, as the locals called her, that the church should be their first stop after a good breakfast the next morning. The boys agreed to try but didn’t really understand what they could do as an apprenticeship in such a place of worship. They considered themselves good Christians, but as of late, paid more attention to playing touch-the-fingers of the girls sitting beside them in the last pew than to the sermons of the priest.

Lily reminded them that a church also has maintenance work on the building, in the gardens and in the graveyard. Perhaps they could be of help to the now aging priest. He was a squat little man with flat feet and therefore looked a bit like a penguin when he walked. The lads themselves would not have described him exactly in this way as they had never heard of a penguin.

The boys walked silently into the church, awed as always by its simple attractiveness. There were hand hewn pews made by the local carpenter. Most churches in the Middle Ages had no pews, which didn’t become more common until the 15th century. The congregants usually stood for the service. But King Hubert was very progressive and wanted his charges throughout the land to be comfortable, and not use aching knees and backs as an excuse not to attend.

They couldn’t remember the carpenter’s name but knew that his daughter was called Freida. She was an absolute beauty and David had long had a crush on her. Above the altar, the morning sun shone through the stain glass window which sported a yellow star of David on a blue background. Except for the king’s own chapel, this was the only church around which had such a beautiful decoration. Tilsit was the king’s favorite village and therefore he had spared no expense in its design.

They found Father Benjamin on his knees praying for his congregants’ salvation as was his habit every morning before breakfast. He prayed at this hour because he had found that if he did so after a healthy morning repast of bacon, bread, and eggs, he tended to fall asleep in the middle of his supplications.

In his younger days, Benjamin had been part of a group of three travelling troubadours, having learned to sing and play the lute from his grandfather. This came in handy as the church had no organ, although these instruments had actually been invented some centuries before. He led the congregation in a hymn or two each Sunday morning. When he brought in a new song, he taught it painstakingly line for line since of course hymnbooks had not been invented yet. Benjamin joined the priesthood after his two fellow musicians had gotten married and therefore had to stop their roadshows.

He himself had never found a wife, being at bit funny looking and quite jovial. In those days, wives preferred serious men. However, he and Lily had become best friends in a completely platonic way, often sharing an evening meal together with a bottle of wine. They would spend time laughing over the village gossip as the true stories in those parts were not particularly noteworthy.

The priest was startled as the boys walked down the aisle. It was rare for anyone to come through the doors on a weekday. He greeted them heartily, hoping silently that they weren’t bringing a question which would open a long discussion, as he hadn’t had his breakfast yet.

Kelvin once again repeated the aims of their mission and their failure so far to complete it. Father Benjamin said sadly, “If you had only been here yesterday. I just hired a caretaker for the church. He is in need of the job, having been crippled by an accident involving a rickety old ladder and unable to do stronger work. I’m afraid that I have already given him my word, and he starts tomorrow.”

The church was the last building on the edge of the village. What now? Their fathers had hoped they could stay near their families, but now they would be forced to head for the next settlement, a day’s walk to the north. Lily packed them some bread and bacon for the journey along with a couple more apples. They also knew of some berry bushes along the way.

After a short time of walking to their destination they came across the road to the castle, which was on the tallest hill in the region, overlooking the river called Plenty which eventually flowed through Tilsit.

Walking uphill was not very appealing to them, but the thought of finding work for the king was. Up until now this idea had not even crossed their minds. They glanced at each other with a smile of agreement and marched up the winding road singing a hymn.

And so, the real adventure of this story was about to begin.

Chapter 2 – The Castle

The boys had been to the king’s courts twice before when they were 12 and again when they were 14 years old. The king hosted harvest festivals during the good years as a means of thanking his faithful serfs for their hard work. Henry and Cletus took their families to the festival during these two especially bountiful years and even gave their children a couple of sovereigns to spend as they wished. The girls each found a scarf or some bangle or other, while the boys spent their pennies on a hand-carved toy or some useful tool. Kevin and David would have bought books neatly printed on a press, but they of course would not be available for another 150 years or so.

The castle walls were impressive and built to keep the enemies at bay. They were over a meter thick, and one could walk atop them around the entire circumference of the courts. This was the longest word Lily had taught them, thinking it might impress young ladies on some future day.

All around the outside there were orchards and flower gardens. In the spring and summer, it was a lovely and scented spectacle, enjoyed by anyone willing to walk up the long path to get there. There was a natural spring on the hill which formed a small bubbling brook that eventually joined the river Plenty.