The Knights

The Knights

"I don't think this is a good idea, Sir Edwith," said Anna, handing the knight his sword. He hefted it up with a clank of armour.

"Watch, Anna. We must settle this once and for all."

"But Edwith," she persisted, "Can't you just let it go. I mean, the park closes at ten."

"You ready?" Edwith cried down the pitch, striped with white football lines. There was a pause then a ringing answer of,

"Wait a minute! I've got my armour stuck."
Edwith and his teammates let out a ruptured sigh and the tension was released. Then there was a brief break in the muttering.

"Henry, where'd you get that?" the cry went up, one after another and shouts of awe ensued. Through the excited babbling crowd walked Lord Henry, also clad in red tabard, hand enfolded in the reigns of?

"A horse?" asked Anna, unbelievingly. Henry patted the beige muzzle proudly and nodded. Anna glanced at Sir Edwith but he was enthralled. His mouth was open in a jubilant smile, eyes shining.

"Wow! Henry, that's fantastic. What's his name?" he ventured.

"Wendall," the boy answered. The smile on Sir Edwith's face flickered.

"Wendall? That's not much of a name for a war-horse. How about Thunder or Silver?"

But Anna stopped him,

"Wendall's his name. He may not come if you call 'Thunder', or he might get angry and run you over."

The boys discussed this and- grudgingly- agreed that it was true. They began to help Edwith onto the horse. It made a horrendous noise, clanking, banging, jolting and cracking. When up and sitting in the saddle, he shifted uncomfortably, trying to force his feet through the stirrups, which were too short. He finally succeeded, knees bent forward as if in a racing crouch. The horse's ears flicked and it's tail whipped. Anne held tight to the reigns, squinting down the field at the assembled opponents, shimmering in their blue tasselled uniforms.

"Ready?" she yelled. There was a murmuring then Sir Dominic's voice drifted back,

"Yep, I'm ready when?what is that?"

But too late. Neena was standing at the centre, cornet pressed into her face, cheeks red with anticipation, glowing with pride at her moment of glory. At last, when all was silent, she blew three long flat notes. A cluster of birds shot up from a nearby tree, squawking and shrieking in the dusky air. They waited as silence returned.

"Well," someone shouted at Neena, "Get on with it!"

"What do I say?" Neena replied, flushed and gasping. But, before Anne could offer some sensible advice, the girl bellowed,

"On your marks! Get set! Go!"

Edwith thundered down the field, the cheering and Anne's reluctant encouragement ringing in his ears. The helmet had been discarded as the visor kept slipping down. He hadn't ever liked horses as none of them liked him. So he clung on to the chestnut mane and prayed. The two of them met at the centre, Sir Dominic looking slowly up and down from Edwith's beaming face to Wendall's hooves.

"That can't be fair!" he exclaimed to Neena. But Neena just shrugged and told them to 'get on with it'. Dominic held up his sword, staggering under the weight. Edwith had to admit he liked Dominic's sword; it had a gold handle with sequins along the blade. He'd painted the cardboard silver and it glinted at Edwith's throat. He held up his own sword and blocked the movement. Then it all began. Sir Edwith battled his enemy into the grass and made Wendall step on the blue tunic so it got covered in mud.