The Knight in Battered Armour

It was the year 1231, a time in which Vestals had very little knowledge about the ancient Gods; the great majority, like myself, knew nothing of their existence, to the point where nobody would ever have imagined the events that would come to pass. The attendees of the tournament therefore began to turn up, blissfully unaware, simply making the most of the festivities. I remember that the morning was warm, with one of those fresh breezes that fluttered your hair and caressed your skin, leaving an aroma of green grass and wildflowers; in other words, one of those perfect spring mornings so typical of the month of Altera Luna. However, that day was not my actual sixteenth birthday since I was born in the season of intense blizzards and the icy winds of the God Aquilo. I also had no reason to celebrate, much less when the tournament had caused days upon days of intoxicated men in every corner of our home - hundreds of stupid lads with heroic pretensions demanding smiles from me, taking my hand almost by force in order to kiss it and then swearing on their swords that they would be victorious in winning my love…. There isn’t anything that these idiots like more than to defame the meaning of love; they use it in such a trivial manner that, instead of expressing that beautiful feeling, it would seem that they were bargaining for something trivial at a market.

Anyway, it was the fifth day of that month, the fifth of all those stupidities and the worst of all, since given that it was the final day of the tournament, I had to be seated for a very long time in the makeshift, albeit pretentious stand, receiving the four idiots that had stood out the most in the various trials, according to “bravery”. The last one of those idiots, completely messing up the tune of the lyre, began reciting to me a dissonant poem of his own authorship, which he adorned with “oaths” which were, to put it another way, complete gibberish. It was halfway through this painful state of affairs when I saw him.

The murmur was becoming louder by the minute, turning into a racket that, for my fortune and that of the lyre, completely muffled any noise that came out of that wretched man’s mouth. Now only one thing could be heard; one question:

“What is he doing here?”

The truth is that it was of little importance to me what all the commotion was about. Nor did I bother to try and recognise the coat of arms that he was wearing, to the point that, upon his arrival, I couldn’t feel more than an overwhelming sense of boredom, at least until I heard someone say:

“It is the Prince Éolian Astralia”. A feeling of great shock suddenly took hold of me, as well as something else, a banal hope like that they teach you from a young age, a fantasy of being married to a man of high nobility, to have a guaranteed reputation and wellbeing… This chimera that appeared on hearing this name chased away my boredom, trapped me between its claws and took me to the tower of some great castle, like in those odes told by the maidens at night. There, he feasted on my being and between the shafts of light filtering through the windows from the brilliance of the Lunae Lux, he made me dance with Éolian, meaning that between the alternating bows, simple and double steps of some palatial tune, I began to let go of my convictions and of who I was.

All of a sudden I saw a man in battered armour kneeling in front of the stand. Éolian was saying that this knight had come to implore that they let him participate in the jousting competition for my hand in marriage! Instantaneously reality hit: I fell from my imaginary tower and collapsed into the deep mud at the base of it. There, I woke up and remembered that I was from a simple noblewoman’s house, and that I had come to this title only because the landlords couldn’t find another way to pay us their debts, therefore it was unthinkable that a nobleman of such lineage like Astralia would marry someone so lowly like myself! The worst of all was having remembered that any of the imbeciles that would participate in this tournament could end up marrying me, may fate give them the opportunity, although I would neither know the man nor love him, only because this was the tradition and this was supposedly a way of securing for myself a certain quality of life, although this wellbeing I could surely obtain by my own means.

“I must ask for your forgiveness, Prince Eolian”, my father started to say in a courtly tone, “but I cannot give consent to the participation of your knight in this competition. The trials of valour have already begun, hence it would be unjust for the finalists”.

“I understand this my Lord Dorel, but still, I dare to implore that you let him participate, since we have travelled so long and far to get here, which, due to the many inconveniences that came up along the way, we arrived much later than planned. Furthermore, we even had to deal with assailants on the route”.

“I lament to hear this Prince Eolian and I promise that you and your men will be attended to with great favour during your stay here for the effort that you have put in, but please understand that even so…”

It was at that moment that my mother got up, took two steps forward to reach my father’s side, and interrupting him, asked in a loud voice:

“What is your name, sir?”.

“I ask for your forgiveness my lady Luciana, but a vow has been made to the Goddess, for which reason I cannot respond, or even reveal his name”, Eolian commented cordially.

“What are you doing?” my father said to my mother in a reproachful, low voice.

“Only time will tell if you can come to your senses and not waste the great opportunity that has been presented before us.” she responded. Then, she turned back to the noble Astralia. “Please excuse us a moment, my Lord.''

“Take the time you need, my Lady”, he replied.

“Of which great opportunity do you speak of?” my father resumed in a murmur. “Are you crazy?”

“Can’t you see? If someone like the Prince Eolian is a squire and herald to that knight, imagine how noteworthy his lineage must be; maybe so much so as the Tiberiana family.”

“Don’t be silly Luciana; look at his armour, it is tarnished and dented in almost every part. Also, if he were indeed from some noble family, he would at least have the family coat of arms in that yellowing, threadbare tabard that he is wearing. There is no doubt that he is a nobody from a nobleman’s house of little money, subordinate even to ours.”

“And why would the Prince serve him?”

“For sure he will have paid him or he is owed some kind of favour.”

“Don’t be an idiot, a family like the Astralia’s don’t owe favours to anyone, in fact quite the contrary, you always end up owing something to them. And if it is the case that the knight paid the Prince, imagine how much money he must have given him to make him move from his comfortable, luxurious palace to be brought here, as if he were any old squire.

“Well…. what you say could be right...” remarked my father to the knight, who was scratching his black beard. “Even so, the fact that he hasn’t even taken off his helmet sows a seed of suspicion for me”.

“Excuse my audacity, Prince Eolian,” my mother said suddenly in a loud voice, “but you must understand that as the mother of the maiden whose hand has been requested in marriage, I am obliged to inquire the motive as to which this respectful knight comes here, wearing an armour in such a deplorable state, not even lifting the visor of the helmet so as one can appreciate his face.”

“It’s on account of the vow that he made to the Goddess, my Lady, which prohibits him from saying a single word and which obliges him to remain both frugal and anonymous.”

“And for how long does this vow last?”

“Until he turns twenty years old.”

“I see… and when will this happen?”

“The coming Autumn and then one more.” replied Eolian.

“But this is too much time.” declared my mother.

“We know this well, my Lady, for which reason, if the knight that I serve ends up as the winner of the jousts, the wedding must not take place until he completes his vow. This is only if the maiden Loriane desires to marry him, since he doesn’t intend for her too to pledge a vow with the Goddess. In the case that she falls in love with another man and then decides to marry him, she can still do that without insulting the knight. Equally, if the maiden Loriane were to decide to wait for my knight and he is unable to return the spring following the fulfilment of his vow, she can feel free to wait for him longer.”

My mother nodded politely and resumed talking in a low voice with my father, requesting that he let the anonymous knight participate, since she considered that even having to wait almost two years for him to return would be better than marrying any simple noble who would be participating in the tournament. After finally convincing him, she returned to her seat and my father got ready to speak once more in a loud voice.

“Prince Eolian, only because it is your honourable Grace making us this request I am prepared to accept all of your wishes. Now, to not be unfair to the other participants that must overcome the various challenges, the rounds will be carried out in the following manner: your knight must confront every one of the finalists, the loser being immediately disqualified from the competition. Do you agree to these terms?

The mysterious knight that up until this moment had remained immobile, leaned back a little.

“And in order not to go against the frugality that is required of this respectful knight”,

continued my father to everyone, “the rewards that the winner will acquire will pass to the hands of my daughter Loriane, who, being his fiancée, will use them as seen appropriate until he fulfils his vow and returns for the wedding.”

The knight bowed in sign of approval, after which my father took a seat, saying in a low voice to my mother:

“This is what I call a successful business”, he smiled with satisfaction, “and in time, the force of his arm will show us if he’ll follow in the footsteps of his talented ancestors.”

The gentleman stood up and queued with the four other participants, who, listening attentively to the herald, began to learn the rules of combat.

“They will carry out three attacks graded like this: a blow that breaks the spear in the chest guard will score three points, on the arms, shoulders or trouser leg will score two points and on the shield will score one point. Any blow that doesn’t break the spear will result in one point. Tearing down the opponent from his steed will result in immediate victory. Blows to the helmet are prohibited and in any circumstances will cause disqualification. In addition, injuring an opponent's horse will cause disqualification and whoever does this must pay an indemnity for the wounded horse. Finally, the defeated knight must give his horse to the winner or pay its value in royal silver and, in the case of coming second, the judges of the tournament will convene to establish a fair price.

To be continued...

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