The Servant Knight
BOOM!
It sounded through the whole complex. The first one to arrive on the scene was Advisor Runican. The explosion had sounded at the far corner of the castle, in the high tower. Runican quickly knocked on the door. The door opened from the other side by a wild eyed white bearded man. He smiled widely at Runican with a bottle of some clear substance.
“Advisor I have done it!” he shouted in Runican’s face.
Runican’s eyes gleamed with hope, “Is that it?” pointing to the bottle in Artemus’ hand.
“Yes, yes it is. I told you I would have it in time.”
“Now Artemus, are you sure this will work?” Runican asked with no small hint of doubt.
“Of course it shall work,” said Artemus as he waved in Advisor Runican.
The room was cluttered with books and many long tables of beakers and bottles with suspicious liquids in them. The pictures that had been hanging on the wall had all been knocked down with the violent explosion, and as usual Artemus’ pet snail, Captain, crawled lazily about the long tables.
“It has taken me six months, but I have finished it,” said Artemus proudly.
“So one drop of this will grant victory in any competition?” asked Runican.
“Yes, yes as I have told you on many occasions.”
There was a plot. A great tournament was to take place the very next day. Knights from all over the land had ventured to this very spot to fight to become the next king of the kingdom. You see the old king, who actually wasn’t very old, was suffering from an unknown illness, and his health was failing fast. He had no heirs and no kin next in line. So a decree was sent out for a tournament. Runican was appalled that they would accept a knight as a rightful king. If all he knew was the sword and shield and nothing else, what good would that do anybody? However, there was one knight in the realm that seemed like a suitable candidate for being king. The only problem was he was still in his early knight years and was too inexperienced to beat anyone of the other knights who were coming. So Artemus, the court alchemist, had proposed an elixir that would give victory to anyone who would drink it. It was cheating, and Runican knew this, but he was just looking out for the good of the kingdom so consent was given, without the king’s authorization.
“So we shall put this in Sir Blaise’s cup, and no one shall know a thing?” questioned Runican.
“I assure you as an old friend that this has no chance of failing. One sip from this and he is guaranteed to win,” assured Artemus.
Runican smiled. “Then go put this in his glass right away. Sir Blaise is sitting at my right hand side, and make sure no one sees you.”
Artemus was off, and Runican stood with satisfaction. Nothing could go wrong now.
Down in the kitchen of the castle everyone was bustling with activity. There was to be a great feast tonight for the knights that had traveled from far and wide to battle in tomorrow’s tournament. The cook was still making herself busy with preparations. The entire kitchen staff was finishing up with their assigned duties, for afterward they were to have the rest of the night off. The table was set, and most of the food had been put out. Soon everyone began to pile out of the kitchen, all but two.
“Alright, Bronze, almost done,” started the cook going to pick up the largest tray. “We just need to put out these last trays of food and then a whole night of peace as a reward.”
Bronze was a young boy no more than sixteen with curly blonde hair. He had been employed at the castle since he was six because his mother just happened to be the castle’s fine cook.
“Here Mother, let me get the big one,” Bronze said, rushing forward to take the biggest tray. “Your back isn’t what it used to be.”
She smiled. “You are such a good boy. Alright, now you can take it.”
Quickly they went out and placed the trays on the table and headed back into the kitchen. No sooner had they left than Artemus came into the dining hall, hastily went over to Sir Blaise’s place, and poured all of the potion’s contents into his cup. Before anyone could catch him he left.
Back in the kitchen the cook took off her apron and was about to leave when she remembered something important.
“Oh, Bronze we almost forgot the wine. Be a good lad and go fill up the wine goblets for me,” spoke the cook.
Bronze did a silent sigh. “Yes Mother, right away,” and off he went.
Bronze once again entered the dining hall with a tray of five wine bottles. Quickly he started to fill up the glasses, which used up three bottles. Setting the other two bottles down he went to fetch five more. He set one at each end of the tables. The last one he set right before the advisor’s seat.
Before he left Bronze was halted by a single thought.
“I wonder what blackberry wine tastes like. Maybe just one sip.No one would know. Yeah, why not?”
So without further thinking he grabbed Sir Blaise’s cup and began to drink the contents. What a sweet flavor it gave. However, there was a hint of something else that didn’t taste like wine, but what would he know? He had only drunk wine a few times in his life. It tasted actually pretty good so without hesitation he poured a small bit more into his glass. He savored the flavor as it glided down his throat, but to Bronze’s misfortune at the precise moment in came walking the king’s advisor and the king’s alchemist.
Bronze choked on the wine and began coughing violently. The advisor and the chemist, however, were not so concerned with the servant boy but with the contents of the cup. Runican snatched the goblet away from Bronze, who was still coughing. Peering inside the glass Runican could see nothing remained in it. The boy had drunk the potion.
Runican dropped the goblet and grabbed the front of Bronze’s shirt. Artemus stayed where he was, petrified with shock.
“Did you drink what was in the glass?” yelled Runican.
Bronze nodded and gave one more cough. “Yes, sir.”
Still holding the front of Bronze’s shirt, Runican turned around. “Artemus, is there any of the potion left?”
He shook his head. “There was only enough for one use. And it took me six months, too.”
“What potion?” asked Bronze, “There was a potion in that goblet? What’s going to happen to me?”
“You’ll be fine,” assured Runican.
“What shall we do now?” asked Artemus, approaching the two.
The one thing Runican could always rely on was his ability to think fast so naturally another plot began to form in his mind. It was ludicrous. But this was a dire situation. He turned back to the boy.
“You will have to repay us boy,” started Runican, “And you can start by answering me this question. Have you ever jousted?”
Bronze returned to his room finally. Runican had divulged his plan to have Sir Blaise win the jousting tournament. His new plan was for Bronze to take Sir Blaise’s place. Sir Blaise had no part in the plot as far as Bronze could tell. When he had asked how they were going to deal with letting him take Sir Blaise’s place, they said they would work something out. Artemus revealed to him that the potion he had drunk had been a potion to grant victory to one who was going into battle. Now he had drunk this, and they expected him to win the joust tomorrow. Bronze had told them that he had never jousted. They agreed to teach him, and that is where he had been for the past few hours. Runican had to attend the dinner, but Artemus coached him. In the end it had resulted in a sore bottom and a sick stomach. And besides he was so small he wasn’t sure how he would pass for Sir Blaise anyway.
His mother never asked where he had been. He just went to his room and fell right to sleep.
The next morning was bright and beautiful, but Bronze could have cared less. Advisor Runican awakened him and led him to the tournament field. Quickly they armored him and put him on top of Sir Blaise’s horse. There he sat sweating freely. He had heard of men dying in these tournaments.
“If I were king I would want my successor to be in good health and in one piece,” thought Bronze.
Around him the other competitors began armoring themselves and mounting their steeds. Bronze was going to watch carefully what the others were doing and attempt to mimic them.
Runican never left his side. Sir Blaise never showed up either. Moments later Artemus came to join them. In his hand was clearly another vile of potion, this one a crimson color. Blood? He quickly passed it to Bronze, and told him to drink it. When Bronze questioned its contents he was silenced and was forced to drink it. He was not sure what it was, but it was definitely not blood.
He felt himself expand, grow possibly. There was no pain just an uncomfortable stretching. A trumpet sounded and all the knights lined up in a row. They lifted their helmets, and Bronze only hesitated a little before he lifted his as well. No one seemed to notice that he was an imposter.
On coming back to his tent one of the other knights, Sir George, came to wish him well.
“May your aim be true and your defeat honorable,” Sir George said to him.
“The same to you,” spoke Bronze.
But it wasn’t his voice he heard. It was Sir Blaise’s. That potion had changed him into Sir Blaise.
The tournament had started, and time seemed to fly. Horses raced, and men fell. Now it was his turn. Bronze shook in his saddle. His opponent was a grey suited man with a stallion of the same hue. Both jousters lowered their lances and charged. To Bronze’s surprise he hit the other straight on and knocked him clean off the horse. Bronze was stunned and was filled with great satisfaction. The same happened with his other battles. The other men fell. He in due time was claimed the victor, a sixteen year old who had had little experience at jousting.
Later he had found out that all the men whom he had fought were suffering from serious hangovers. All were sick or had severe headaches. He had won mostly by being sober.
In a few hours Bronze had turned back into his original self. Runican and Artemus had agreed he had made recompense for his actions yesterday. Sir Blaise had actually been sleeping the whole time. When he had awakened, Runican and Artemus were there telling him that he had blacked out from a hit that he had obtained after the matches and had forgotten all of the tournament’s proceedings. Sir Blaise did not believe at first, but there were hundred of eyes witnesses who had claimed that they saw him, so eventually he believed them. The king died within a week, and Blaise took up the mantle of king. Bronze was sworn to secrecy by the advisor and alchemist, but he had no intention of telling. Who would believe him anyway?