The Table of Less Valued Knights Read online

  ‘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.’

  ‘But –’

  Humphrey sighed and leaned against the barn door.

  ‘We were having the feast as usual,’ he said. ‘By which I mean getting hungry, waiting for the quest. This king type – not a real king, I hasten to add – turns up, looking for his wife who’s gone missing. Everybody assumes that’s the Pentecost quest, obviously …’

  ‘Who got it?’

  ‘Dorian.’

  Conrad pulled a face. Then he said, ‘Silas will be pleased, at least.’ Silas was Sir Dorian’s squire, and was a lot more popular than his master. ‘If the quest goes well, he might be made a knight himself. Lucky bastard.’

  ‘Yes, well, he can forget about that,’ said Humphrey. ‘Because I don’t think it’s the real Pentecost quest. I was still in the hall after everyone else had gone …’ Humphrey left out the part about sitting at the Round Table. ‘And a damsel comes in.’
<
br />   ‘In distress?’

  ‘In distress.’

  Conrad took this in. ‘Damsel trumps king,’ he said. ‘Always.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘And you didn’t go and get Arthur? Or one of the real knights?’

  Humphrey bristled. ‘No, I thought we could handle this one by ourselves.’

  ‘But we’ve never been on a quest.’

  ‘I’ve been on plenty of quests.’

  ‘I’ve never been on a quest.’ There was a hint of nervousness in Conrad’s voice.

  ‘Why does that matter?’ said Humphrey. ‘Don’t you want to go on a quest?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ said Conrad. ‘Just … why, suddenly, this one?’

  ‘She asked me to help her. I’ve taken vows, Conrad.’

  ‘That’s never mattered to you before.’ Conrad peered at his master’s face. ‘Is she pretty?’ he said.

  ‘She’s getting married, Conrad, that’s the whole point of the quest. We’ll need my armour, a tent, no, two tents, saddlebags …’

  Conrad grinned. His teeth were a lot bigger than Edwin’s. ‘Very pretty?’ he said.

  Humphrey picked up an empty saddlebag and chucked it at his squire. ‘Don’t forget my sword,’ he said.

  Four

  When they got back to the stable, Jemima and Elaine were both asleep. Jemima was lying on her side with the girl curled up next to her, her head resting on the elephant’s belly, seemingly unconcerned by the fragrant balls of elephant dung that peppered the straw, or the risk of being crushed by a rolling pachyderm.

  Humphrey cleared his throat.

  Elaine opened her eyes. ‘Ready to go?’ she said. Then her eyes widened. ‘Oh,’ she said.

  She had never seen a giant before. She was a little disappointed. She’d expected them to be taller. Broad of build, Conrad stood with awkwardly rounded shoulders and a self-conscious stoop, so that he somewhat resembled a roughly hewn canoe with a curved prow.

  ‘Conrad, Lady Elaine du Mont, of Tuft,’ said Humphrey. ‘Lady Elaine, Conrad, my squire.’

  ‘So that’s why you needed the elephant,’ said Elaine. ‘Pleased to meet you, Conrad.’

  ‘You’re not going to run and scream?’ Conrad sounded crestfallen.

  Elaine felt bad for him that she’d missed the chance to look afraid. ‘The elephant’s got my back,’ she said. Jemima let out a soft elephant snore. ‘When I wake her up, she’ll have my back,’ Elaine corrected herself.

  ‘Where did you leave your horse?’ said Humphrey.

  ‘I tethered him at the front of the castle.’

  ‘They let you do that?’

  ‘There was nobody there.’

  ‘No guards?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I suppose that’s what happens when all of your knights are spending Pentecost in the same room, getting pissed,’ said Humphrey. ‘I’m surprised Camelot doesn’t get robbed every year. Well, at least that means we’ll get out without … Without a long, tedious goodbye. The Round Table guys can be so emotional.’

  He glared at Conrad, trying to convey: She doesn’t know I’m not Round Table. Conrad rolled his eyes: It never even crossed my mind that you’d be honest with her about that.

  ‘Conrad,’ said Humphrey, ‘you load up Jemima, and I’ll get Spencer.’

  ‘Spencer isn’t a lion or anything, is he?’ said Elaine.

  ‘He’s just a normal horse,’ Humphrey assured her.

  Conrad went over to Jemima and woke her with a gentle rub of her brow. Jemima shook her head in protest, but was soothed when Conrad fed her a carrot. He started fixing bags to her back.

  ‘Aren’t you going to put on your armour?’ said Elaine to Humphrey.

  ‘Not until I need it,’ said Humphrey. ‘If you travel looking like a knight, the attention never stops. Every maiden’s got a quest, every man wants to challenge you to a duel.’ This was true, and it was tiresome, although more to the point was that Humphrey didn’t want word getting back to Camelot of where he had gone, if he could possibly avoid it.

  ‘So we’re going incognito,’ said Elaine. ‘With a terrifying giant riding a monster.’

  Conrad grinned at the ‘terrifying’.

  ‘He’s nobody’s idea of a typical squire,’ said Humphrey. ‘People will think we’re travelling players.’

  Conrad’s grin dropped. He knew squires didn’t usually look like him, but he didn’t like to be reminded.

  ‘If that’s what you think is best,’ Elaine said to Humphrey. ‘You’re the knight.’

  ‘Except …’

  ‘You’re not the knight, for the purposes of this trip.’

  ‘Correct.’

  Elaine got up and brushed the straw from her cloak.

  ‘Just one question,’ she said. ‘Where are we actually going?’

  ‘To your home, of course,’ said Humphrey. ‘Always start at the scene of the crime.’

  Elaine’s face fell. ‘Do we have to?’

  ‘I need to find out about the joust and what happened there.’

  And I need to find out a bit about you, he thought, but did not say.

  ‘Please,’ said Elaine. ‘Anywhere else but there.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Humphrey. ‘There’s no other place we can start.’

  Elaine smiled bleakly. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘If we must. But don’t say you weren’t warned.’

  Five

  They rode through the night, slowed down by the fact that elephants don’t gallop, or even trot for that matter, and it was past dawn by the time they reached the border with Tuft. The customs post consisted of a wooden stool by the side of the road, occupied by a dwarf with a clipboard and such bushy eyebrows, moustache and beard that he appeared to be entirely fashioned from hair.

  Elaine dismounted from her grey gelding, Juniper, ate one of her bread rolls, and gave the other to Conrad and Humphrey to share. Neither of them had thought to bring any food. While Conrad tried to persuade the customs official to allow an unlicensed monster over the border, Humphrey went behind a tree to change into his full knight’s regalia in preparation for meeting Elaine’s parents. His armour was dated, and so tight he could hardly mount his horse, but there wasn’t a speck of rust on it. His coat of arms, a pair of silver antlers on a green background, was neatly painted onto his shield, and embroidered onto his tabard and pennant in a painstaking but wobbly stitch.

  ‘Have you been polishing?’ Humphrey said to Conrad as he emerged, buckling his breastplate. ‘And sewing?’

  ‘That is what squires do,’ said Conrad.

  ‘This giant’s your squire?’ said the customs official to Humphrey.

  ‘Didn’t he tell you that?’ said Humphrey.

  ‘I didn’t believe him.’ The dwarf gave Conrad a long, reappraising stare. Then he turned back to Humphrey. ‘You’re Round Table, are you?’

  ‘From Camelot,’ said Humphrey, letting a lift in his voice imply that he was agreeing.

  ‘Never thought I’d see the day,’ said the dwarf, shaking his head. ‘A giant as a squire. I thought he’d be burning down villages, raping, looting and the like. Thought it’d be more than my job’s worth with King Leo, letting a giant in. Even a small one. I feel quite ashamed of myself, making assumptions like that. Believe me, I know what it’s like. People see me, they think trickster, con artist, thief. Never imagine that I might be a government official. People think with their eyes, not with their minds, that’s the problem. Well, well. A giant squire. Good luck to you, Sir.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Conrad, straightening his shoulders for once.

  ‘And this maiden is with you too?’

  ‘I’m a damsel in distress,’ said Elaine, proudly. ‘We’re on a quest.’

  ‘Very good, very good,’ said the dwarf. ‘A quest. That’s made my week, that has. Anything to declare?’

  Humphrey showed his sword and his bow and arrows, and Conrad his axe.

  ‘Oh well, you’ll be needing those, on a quest,’ sai
d the customs official. ‘What about fruit or vegetables?’

  ‘I took a carrot for Jemima,’ said Elaine.

  ‘Sorry,’ said the dwarf, in a genuinely apologetic tone, ‘I can’t let any alien fruit or vegetables over the border without a permit. Them’s the rules. I don’t make them.’

  ‘Well, that’s easily solved,’ said Elaine, and she fed the carrot to an appreciative Jemima.

  ‘Excellent,’ said the customs official. ‘Very resourceful. And I tell you what, I’ll turn a blind eye to your monster. I’ll put her down as “deformed horse”. Every little helps, eh? Have a nice stay. Good luck with your quest!’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Humphrey with a bow, which the dwarf was delighted by, and they were on their way.

  Six

  Elaine’s home village, close to the Tuft border, had seen better days, although even in those better days it probably still looked as if it had been put together using an avalanche and some string. Her family’s castle squatted at the top of a small incline like a fat, grey, constipated sheep. As far as Humphrey could tell, it occupied a position of no strategic importance whatsoever. The castle was separated from the rest of the hamlet by a moat, which was now dry, and in which a group of dusty children were kicking around the desiccated, severed head of a fox.

  Under the crumbling walls of the forgotten castle, even Humphrey in his unfashionable armour and faded tabard gave off a bright, alluring glamour, the promise of something fresh and exciting from outside this miserable place. The kids looked up as they approached, allowing the most enterprising of them to boot the fox’s skull hard against the side of the moat. ‘Goal!’ she crowed, as the others groaned.

  Conrad took one look at the rotting drawbridge and shook his head.

  ‘No way,’ he said. ‘Jemima will go straight through.’

  At that moment, the kid who had scored the goal called out, ‘Why’s your horse got such a big nose?’

  ‘She’s not a horse, she’s an elephant,’ said Conrad.

  ‘Ele-pants,’ said the kid. The other kids laughed, not pleasantly.