The Knight of Silk and Steel Read online

  Charles had placed a row of fences made from brushwood in a line across the field. Old Lord Seckau would ride down one side, Ulrich’s Venus down the other. When they neared, they’d lower their lances and each would try to smash the lance tip on his rival’s chest. If it was a strong, true hit then one knight could be smashed clean from his saddle.

  Ulrich mounted on his charger, and young Meg passed up his helmet. Seckau waited at the far end and waved a cheery, metal glove.

  Charles the butler held a white rag. “When I drop the flag, you ride. God bless you! God bless us all!”

  Each knight lowered the eye guard on his helmet, each squire passed his lord a lance. Fifty village people held their breath and even birds fell silent in the sky.

  Charles the butler dropped the flag.

  Old Lord Seckau moved his heels and dug sharp spurs into his horse’s side. The horse went snicker, gave a snort and moved at a gentle trot. (Well, it was old and his master weighed him down like castle stone.)

  Ulrich spurred his fine, grey charger. The beast rose up on its hind legs and pawed the air like a dancing bear.

  Then it lowered its head and struck the ground with hooves of thunder.

  Off it sped towards Lord Seckau, faster than a speeding hare. Ulrich raced a hundred paces while Lord Seckau plodded ten.

  The village cheered him, grass and clods of earth and worms flew up as he charged on while Lord Seckau plodded forth.

  Lord Seckau brought his heavy lance down and took aim at Ulrich.

  They were fifty paces apart.

  Ulrich lowered his lance and tried to take aim at Lord Seckau, but it’s hard to aim when you’re galloping fast.

  Forty paces, and Lord Seckau plodded almost to a stop.

  Thirty paces, Ulrich’s lance tip wobbled.

  Twenty paces, Lord Seckau stopped and let his enemy race towards his waiting lance.

  Ten paces, blond hair flew from underneath the helmet, green-gold silk dress billowed in the wind. Venus was a glorious sight riding for fair lady’s love.

  Three paces, Lord Seckau’s lance tip crunched into the breastplate of fair Venus. Ulrich’s lance tip pointed to the noonday sun. He’d missed … with worse shame to come.

  Chapter Six

  Lances and Legends

  Old Lord Seckau sat there like a castle wall and did not move. As speeding Ulrich hurried past, the lance smashed him from his saddle. Ulrich tumbled backwards, skirt flying over his helmeted head.

  Lord Seckau laughed.

  Ulrich hit the green turf with a clatter that shook starlings from the trees a mile away.

  Meg sobbed and ran across the grass towards the fallen man.

  She pulled the helmet from his head and threw the wig aside.

  “My lord,” she moaned. “He’s killed you dead!”

  “I don’t think so,” Ulrich whispered and gave a little gasp for air. “Just help me to my feet, my faithful squire.”

  The girl and Leonard the landlord dragged him up as Charles the butler helped Lord Seckau down.

  The old lord grinned a red-faced grin and walked towards the unhurt Ulrich. “You young men are all the same,” he said. “In too much haste. You need to learn that in a charge, swift deer don’t beat a standing bull.”

  Ulrich smiled. “I’ll learn, good lord.” He reached into the leather purse that hung from his silken belt. “The payment for my lesson’s one gold ring,” he said, and passed the prize across.

  The knights removed their iron gloves and shook each other’s hand.

  Someone caught the great, grey horse and led the way back down the hill.

  Meg sighed. “You’ll never win your lady fair if you don’t fight more carefully.”

  Ulrich nodded. “Oh, I win as many as I lose. What matters is I play the game. I do my best and no one can do more. I’m not like all the other knights – the ones who stay at home and use their strength to beat and bully poor peasants.”

  They reached the tavern. Meg helped Ulrich take off his armour and pack it safely away.

  “Can I come with you, Ulrich? Be your squire?” the crop-haired girl asked quietly.

  The knight faced the sun that sparkled in the gold threads of his shabby dress.

  “No, Meg, the greatest knights always ride alone. Go home,” he smiled. “You’ll have your own hard battles to fight, for life is often cruel.” Then he climbed onto his horse and turned its head towards the west.

  “I’ll not forget you, or the lesson that I learned,” Meg shouted after him. “I’ll do my best and no one can do more.”

  The knight rode away from the tavern as the sun was setting and turned the sky to the colour of blood.

  Epilogue

  Ulrich of Liechtenstein was born in Austria in 1200. He fell in love with his master’s lady (he says) when he was just twelve years old. He then travelled around Europe as a knight errant to prove his love by fighting anyone.

  He set off on a journey from Venice to Vienna, and called his travels “The Venus Tour” because Venus is the goddess of love. He dressed in a long, blond wig and a woman’s dress so he looked like Venus … Venus with a beard. That was enough to put any enemy off!

  Ulrich must have been very rich because he owned three castles and was able to offer a gold ring to anyone who could defeat him. Anyone who he beat had to give a gift to his lady and bow to the four corners of the Earth.

  Ulrich said he broke 307 lances and won just as many fights. But he was not that great a warrior. He had to give away 271 rings, so he lost almost as many fights as he won.

  We know about him because he wrote a long story-poem about his adventures and called his poem “Service of the Lady”.

  When Ulrich finished the Venus Tour, he rode to his lady’s castle. But what did she say? “Go off and do it again!” And when he had fought even more battles for her, did she fall in love with him? Sorry. No, she didn’t. She was a hard lady to please.

  The odd thing about knights was they liked to fight for a married woman … a woman they could never win. Ulrich was disgusted with other knights of the time. He thought they were not true men. He wanted to show them how a real knight lived and fought … even if he had to wear a dress to prove it.

  Ulrich went on to be a great lord in Austria … even with a broken heart. He died at the good old age of 78.