LITMIR.BIZ

      “We will meet again,” said the Templar, “and where there are none to separate us.”

      “If we do not,” said the Disinherited Knight, “the fault will not be mine.”

      With these words the Disinherited Knight returned to his first station.

      He then commanded a herald to announce to the challengers, that he was ready to meet them in the order in which they chose to advance against him.

      The gigantic Front-de-Boeuf in black armour was the first who took the field. On his white shield there was a black bull’s head and the words, “Beware, I’m here”. This champion lost a stirrup in the fight and the judges decided that the Disinherited knight was the victor.

      In the stranger’s third fight with Sir Philip Malvoisin, he was equally successful; striking that baron so hard on the helmet, that its laces broke, and the helmet fell off, and Malvoisin was declared defeated like his companions.

      In his fourth combat with De Grantmesnil, the Disinherited Knight showed as much courtesy as he had showed courage and skill in the previous fights. De Grantmesnil’s horse, which was young, ran from its course and the rider couldn’t aim, but the stranger did not use this situation, he raised his lance and passed his antagonist without touching him. Then he sent a herald to invite his antagonist to meet for the second time. This De Grantmesnil declined, saying he was defeated by the courtesy of his opponent.

      Ralph de Vipont summed up the list of the stranger’s triumphs, when he fell to the ground with such force, that the blood ran from his nose and his mouth, and he was carried away senseless.

      The acclamations of thousands applauded the unanimous award of the Prince and marshals, announcing that day’s victor to be the Disinherited Knight.

      The marshals of the field were the first to offer their congratulations to the victor. They asked him, at the same time, to remove his helmet before they conducted him to receive the prize of the day’s tourney from the hands of Prince John. The Disinherited Knight refused politely to do so, saying that he could not at this time allow his face to be seen. The marshals were perfectly satisfied by this reply, because it was then usual for knights to swear to remain incognito for a certain time or until some particular adventure was achieved. So the marshals announced to Prince John the winner’s desire to remain unknown.

      John was both curious and displeased with the result of the tournament, in which the challengers whom he supported had been defeated by one knight.

      “What do you think, my lords,” he said, turning round to his followers, “who can this proud knight be?”

      “I cannot guess,” answered De Bracy.

      “The victor,” said the marshals, “is still waiting the pleasure of Your Highness.”

      “It is our pleasure,” answered John, “that he will wait until we can guess who he is.”

      “Your Grace,” said Waldemar Fitzurse, “you cannot make the victor wait until we tell Your Highness something that we cannot know. At least I can’t guess who he can be, unless he is one of the knights who went with King Richard to Palestine.”

      A whisper arose among the Prince’s followers, “It might be the King—it might be Richard the Lionheart himself!”

      “God forbid!” said Prince John, turning at the same time as pale as death; “Waldemar! – De Bracy! Brave knights and gentlemen, remember your promises, and stand truly by me!”

      “There is no danger,” said Waldemar Fitzurse, “Are you so little acquainted with the gigantic body of your father’s son, as to think that it can fit inside this armour? – Marshals, you will best serve the Prince by bringing the victor to the throne. – Look at him more closely,” he continued, “Your Highness will see that he is much shorter and smaller than King Richard.”

      The marshals brought forward the Disinherited Knight to the foot of wooden stairs, which led to Prince John’s throne. There he received the war-horse which was the prize of that day. Then the knight rode round the lists to show the Prince’s present to the public.

      In the meanwhile, Prior of Jorvaulx had reminded Prince John, that the victor must now show his good judgment by selecting from among the beauties who were present a lady who would fill the throne of the Queen of Beauty and of Love and deliver the prize of the tournament on the following day. The Prince made a sign for the knight, who turned towards the throne and remained motionless, expecting John’s commands.

      “Sir Disinherited Knight,” said Prince John, “since that is the only title by which we can address you, it is now your duty, as well as privilege, to name the beautiful lady, who, as Queen of Honour and of Love, is to be a Sovereign on the next day’s festival. – Raise your lance.”

      The Knight obeyed; and Prince John placed upon its point a crown of green satin with gold.

      The knight went around the lists again, this time slowly – to examine the beautiful faces. At last the champion paused beneath the balcony in which the Lady Rowena was placed.

      Whether from indecision, or some other motive of hesitation, the champion of the day remained stationary for more than a minute, while the eyes of the silent audience were fixed upon his motions, and then, gradually and gracefully sinking the point of his lance, he put the crown which it supported at Rowena’s feet. The trumpets sounded and the heralds proclaimed the Lady Rowena the Queen of Beauty and of Love for the following day.

      This was the end of the first day of the tournament.

      The Disinherited Knight had only one squire. This man helped his master to take off his armour, and placed food and wine on the table before him.

      The Knight had not finished eating, when his servant told him that five men wanted to speak with him. The Disinherited Knight pulled the hood of his cloak over his head to hide his face and went out of his tent. The five men were squires of the challengers, each holding his master’s horse loaded with the armour in which he had fought that day.

      “According to the laws of knights,” said the first of these men, “I, Baldwin de Oyley, a squire of Brian de Bois-Guilbert, offer you the horse and armour used by Brian de Bois-Guilbert in this day’s tournament, leaving it with your nobleness to keep it or to take the same sum in money.”

      The other squires repeated the same formula, and then stood waiting for the decision of the Disinherited Knight.

      “To you four, sirs,” replied the Knight, addressing those who had last spoken, “and to your honourable and brave masters, I have one common reply. Send my compliments to your masters and tell them that I ask them to pay for their horses and armour.”

      “We offer you, each of us,” answered the squire of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, “a hundred golden coins in ransom of these horses and suits of armour.”

      “It is enough,” said the Disinherited Knight. “Half the sum I need to accept, and from the remaining half, distribute one part among yourselves, my squires, and divide the other half between the heralds and the servants.”

      The squires bowed and thanked the knight for his generosity. The Disinherited Knight then addressed Baldwin, the squire of Brian de Bois-Guilbert. “From your master,” said he, “I will accept

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