Sir Thomas the Hesitant and the Table of Less Valued Knights

by Liam Perrin

  Even the Parson was there. He was a large man with fists the size of grapefruit, but Thomas had never seen him raise a hand in anger. The parson carried a copy of the Bible that was bigger than most six year olds and that proclaimed itself to be illustrated and "self-pronouncing". The first time Thomas had read that claim on its cover, he'd pictured the Parson lying in bed at night while the Bible sat on a table nearby, telling him stories in a deep, ostentatious voice.

  As usual, William was in the center of a group of the most popular: Ackerly, Calvert, Royden, and Ward. Together with William, they'd invented a sport they called, creatively, Ball. Ball consisted mainly of one team trying to get a sack of flour, or a wheel, or anything heavy and unwieldy – and if breakable even better – from one end of a field to another. There weren't a lot of rules for Ball, and they almost never played using anything that actually resembled a ball. In any case, the five of them were undefeated.

  "Father?" said Bane. Thomas couldn't recall ever seeing anything like apprehension in Bane's eyes before, but it was there now.

  The Baron waved him away with a hand and commanded his soldiers. "Fan out. Surround them. End this display." Then he raised his voice and spoke to the crowd, "Disperse now or be arrested for illegal assembly and hang with these wretches. It makes no difference to me."

  The numbers were in Thomas's favor now, but looking around, Thomas knew they were still in deep trouble. A man on foot swinging a battered old gardening tool was no match for an armored, armed, and mounted soldier. That was kind of the point of the armor, the arms, and the mount.

  The soldiers encircled the square and began to close in. Several of the townspeople looked around for escape routes, but William caught sight of it and started them all chanting, "Fog–bot–tom." As the soldiers closed in, the crowd tightened rather than breaking, and a cold knot of fear dropped into Thomas's gut.

  Then a familiar voice raised above the crowd, and the chanting died.

  "Wendsley Cheston Hunter, is that you again?" said Grandma Farmer.

  The rather portly Wendsley froze on his spot halfway round the circle of soldiers from the Baron and Thomas.

  "What are you playing at, boy?"

  Thomas would've laughed if he wasn't so scared.

  Wendsley blushed and stammered.

  "Wendsley, get off that horse this instant and come stand with your father," said another elderly lady.

  "You listen to your nana," said Grandma Farmer. "And that goes for you too, Sedgley Sutton. I see you there. And your partner in crime – Mr. Buxton Yarlberry. You didn't get away with this monkey business in my schoolroom and you won't get away with it now. Are you three going to manhandle the women who gave you birth and fed you mashed peas when you couldn't even hold your own heads up?"

  "They certainly are not," piped in Mrs. Sutton and Mrs. Yarlberry.

  "And you..." continued Grandma Farmer, going one by one down the line of soldiers. Thomas stood and watched, astonished, as soldiers slid off their horses and joined their families in the crowd.

  "You there!" shouted Bane at Grandma Farmer. She resolutely ignored him and persisted in her serial reprimands of soldiers twice her size.

  Bane glanced at his father. The Baron was grinding his jaw and squinting from person to person around the crowd. Bane kicked at his horse's flanks and rode toward Grandma Farmer. "You there, old woman, step aside."

  Thomas grabbed the reins as Bane passed and jerked the horse to a stop. Bane reached for his sword, and Thomas heard a sound of metal sliding on metal from the other side of the horse. Bane gasped and Marrok stepped into sight carrying both his and Bane's swords. Bane was rubbing his hand.

  "Enough!" shouted the Baron. At least half of his soldiers had dismounted and abandoned him. They peppered the crowd, most standing sheepishly by their families, several looking rather relieved in spite of their embarrassment, and a small few actually throwing defiant looks at the Baron and his remaining guards.

  "Unhand my son," the Baron commanded.

  "You will release your hold on this town, leave, and never return," said Thomas.

  The Baron looked as though this was the most preposterous idea he'd ever heard.

  "You will hand over the keys to the keep and the storehouses." Thomas threw a stern look at Bane sitting above him. "And you will ride off with your son to a place of your choosing. But if you ever set foot in Fogbottom again–" Thomas took a breath. He couldn't believe he was saying these things to a pair of men who'd terrorized his life.

  "You will be incarcerated and tried for trespassing."

  The look on the Baron's face shifted from shock through disbelief and into open rage in the span of a few heartbeats.

  He dismounted, drew his sword and marched toward Thomas.

  "I told you, boy," he growled, "I am Fogbottom."

  He raised his arm to swing.

  There was a motion behind him and a man brushed roughly passed Thomas. He did something surprising and rather painful to Thomas's wrist that made him let go of his sword. The man caught it as it fell and, in one smooth motion, stepped in front of Thomas and ran the Baron straight through.

  Everyone froze.

  "No!" shouted Thomas.

  The Baron's wide eyes drifted down from Thomas to the weapon buried in his midsection. He dropped his sword and fell to his knees, groping clumsily at the hilt protruding from his stomach.

  "Father!" shouted Bane and dropped off his horse. Marrok caught him and held him.

  Thomas looked at the man who'd run the Baron through. "Dad?" he said.

  Mr. Farmer turned away from the Baron to look Thomas in the eye. "I'd had just about enough," said Mr. Farmer.

  Thomas was flooded with a mix of love for his father, horror at the act, and distress at having the scene turn violent in the end after all.

  The crowd was still. A few of the remaining Fogbottom guards slid off their mounts, but none of them made any hostile gesture.

  Thomas dropped to his knee, supported the Baron with a hand on his shoulder and scanned the group wildly.

  "Pyralis," he said. His mind raced.

  "Pyralis, you can fix this."

  Pyralis responded to Thomas with a look of unmistakable horror.

  "Pyralis," pleaded Thomas. "You're a healer."

  Pyralis's face relaxed a little, but his eyes darted around randomly. He seemed to be at a great struggle internally.

  Gorgella reached out and touched his elbow. "You can do this," she said.

  Marie knelt down with Thomas and wiped at the Baron's brow with a handkerchief. The Baron was sweating heavily and breathing in disturbing gasps, like a fish out of water.

  Something seemed to break in Pyralis. He walked quickly over to the Baron. He knelt, put one hand on the Baron's shoulder, grabbed the hilt of the sword with the other and looked the Baron in the eye.

  The Baron returned his gaze. "Please," he said.

  Pyralis frowned, then closed his eyes and began muttering under his breath. Instead of the compressed feeling he'd felt around Pyralis when he's been about to destroy the Baron, this time there was an expansion and something that felt not unlike a soft wind moving out. There was an air about it of calm and comfort. Thomas felt himself relaxing.

  Pyralis opened his eyes, said clearly, "Soli Deo gloria," and withdrew the sword with a quick pull. The force of the extraction pulled the Baron right up onto his feet. He wobbled there for a moment, gaining his balance, and staring at the place where the sword had hung so unnaturally just a moment ago. His clothing was sliced, and there was what looked like an old scar marring his abdomen, but he appeared otherwise unharmed.

  The crowd didn't know who to stare at: the Baron standing there miraculously alive, or Pyralis who appeared to be as surprised as everyone else. The Parson made his way over to the former evil wizard and put a hand on his shoulder. He started to say something, changed his mind, and simply smiled at Pyralis who returned the grin with one of his own.

  Marrok let go of Bane,
and the boy rushed to his father. The Baron pushed him away, and began backing toward his horse eyeing the crowd suspiciously.

  Surely, thought Thomas, this would change the Baron's heart. He took a step toward him but the Baron shot a wild look at him and yelled, "Stay back!"

  He climbed onto his horse, and without another word, rode out of the square.

  "Father!" shouted Bane, who scanned the crowd one last fearful time, mounted his own horse and followed the Baron out of sight.

  §

  The Fogbottomtons stood there for a moment, looking at each other. Then, one of the Baron's former guards threw his helmet in the air and cheered, and the crowd erupted in exuberant celebration. Wendsley Cheston Hunter marched straight over to Grandma Farmer and gave her a hug Thomas thought might kill her. Grandma looked a bit panicked herself at first but quickly settled into it and patted Wendsley’s back.

  Mr. Farmer cornered Thomas, shook his hand, then pulled him into a wordless embrace, and that was that. In contrast, Mrs. Farmer couldn't seem to stop hugging her youngest son. Finally Thomas had to complain, at which point she simply moved on to William. Eventually she stopped with the squeezing altogether, but there was a smile pasted on her face that looked like it would never come off, and Thomas thought her eyes might be wet for the rest of her life.

  William was looking better already. He still looked a shadow of his former self, but gone was the crazed look and air of death about him. Thomas was trying to decide if he'd actually taken the time to stop and comb his hair before rallying the townspeople when Ackerly and Royden hoisted William up on their shoulders and started the crowd cheering for him.

  "This should be your moment Thomas," said Philip watching William.

  Elizabeth came running into sight at that moment, spotted Thomas and rushed at him. She leapt into his arms and hugged him so hard he was afraid for a moment for the structural integrity of his neck.

  "It is my moment, Philip," he said, and hugged Elizabeth back.

  CHAPTER XXVI

  The Spoils

  It wasn't clear to Thomas what sparked it. There was a general, growing murmur and then someone shouted – possibly William or one of his friends – but suddenly the crowd was storming up the hill to Fogbottom Keep. Thomas, Marie, Philip, and the rest were swept along with it.

  They reached the top and found the drawbridge lowered. The crowd swept over it, cheering and picking up speed. They headed en masse through the courtyard and round the bend to the grain storehouses where the entire mob stopped short with a collective gasp.

  Bane and the Baron were tied up, sitting against the wall and looking rather chagrined. Three knights in full armor – each bearing their own crests but each also showing the colors of Camelot – were inspecting the contents of both the storehouses and a cart laden with sacks and boxes.

  "The shipment," whispered Philip to Thomas.

  The tallest knight abandoned his box and turned to address the crowd. "People of Fogbottom, fear not. Today your suffering ends!"

  The crowd looked at itself and furrowed its brows.

  Thomas recognized the knights immediately. He cleared his throat. "Sir Kay," he said bowing. "If I may be so bold, what brings Arthur's champions to our humble village?"

  One of the other knights raised his visor.

  "Timothy, is tha' you agin?"

  "It's Thomas, Sir Gawain."

  Gawain winked at him.

  Thomas blinked.

  "Good show, Thomas," whispered Kay to Thomas. Then he raised his voice and addressed the crowd, "You may not have been aware, but the one entrusted by Camelot with your land and yourselves' safekeeping and responsible stewardship was in fact–" He swung and pointed a long gauntleted finger at the Baron, "–a villain and a roustabout."

  "A scheming despot," added the third knight.

  "A donkey's– "

  "I think they get the picture Gawain," said Kay. "Show them, Bedivere."

  The third knight cracked open one of the larger boxes on the cart and pulled out a small, wrapped cake.

  "Pastries?" said Philip.

  "I should have known," said Pyralis.

  Kay held the cake aloft and declared, "Poisoned pastries!"

  "But I've been eating those," said William.

  Bedivere made eye contact with Thomas and motioned him over. He led Thomas a short distance to the door of one of the storehouses. It was nearly but not completely empty.

  "They're all like this," said Bedivere. "It's not much, but we don't believe the grain itself has been contaminated. It should last through the winter."

  Thomas stared at the pile.

  Bedivere slapped him on the back. "We weren't sure how we were going to pull this one off Thomas. Get inside the Baron's stronghold, apprehend him, and expose the plot. Then there was this explosion, and the next thing we knew his entire militia was streaming out the gate."

  Bedivere laughed.

  "I–" started Thomas. He wasn't sure where to begin. "I don't understand."

  "We've been watching him for weeks. He planned on delivering these poisoned foods to Arthur's half-sister Morgan who, as I'm sure you know, has lost no love for her brother. She was going to distribute them throughout Camelot, and after everyone was sick, arrive on the scene, discredit Arthur, and produce the antidote.

  "Thomas," continued Bedivere, "your part in foiling this plot is greatly appreciated."

  "But I had no idea... He really poisoned all of our food?"

  Bedivere winked.

  "Ninth Article, isn't it?" said Bedivere. "Always make your betters look better or some such? Tuttle will be proud to hear how you've performed today, Sir Thomas."

  "Performed? But it's no performance, Sir. I mean, we knew something was up, but it seemed like we were on our own... And there wasn't any proof besides, well, I guess besides my brother's condition now that I think about it..."

  "Alright, let's not overplay it shall we?" said Bedivere and walked Thomas back to the crowd.

  As they returned, Thomas saw Philip point Gawain toward William. Gawain made his way over and handed something to him. Something Gawain said caused William to shoot a look at Thomas. William grinned and nodded to Gawain, and then the three knights, rode out of the Keep towing the Baron, Bane, and the cart laden with contaminated confections.

  William cleared his throat, and as usual for William, it was all it took to get the crowd's rapt attention.

  "How does he do that?" said Thomas to no one in particular.

  "People of Fogbottom," said William. "Sir Kay has left a task in our hands."

  He grinned and held up the Baron's crown.

  The crowd cheered and clapped.

  "We are to name a temporary regent until such time as the king can appoint a new governor of these lands.

  "And I," continued William as he stepped before Thomas, "can think of no one more deserving."

  He dropped to one knee and lifted the crown up to Thomas. "If there be a better man to take on this mantle, to rule and guide, to safe-keep and steward Fogbottom..."

  Thomas glanced at the crowd. Pyralis was beaming. Gorgella had her eyes wide and her hands clamped to her mouth, Elizabeth's jaw hung open, and Marie simply smiled. Mrs. Farmer wore a smile too large for her face. Grandma Farmer asked, "What's he got there?"

  Thomas thought he caught an actual sparkle in Mr. Farmer's eye. "That's my boy," he said to Abraham Chisel who responded by slapping him hard on the back.

  It seemed the whole crowd was smiling.

  Thomas frowned and lifted the crown from William's fingers. It was beautifully crafted. There wasn't a hint of tarnish even in the crevices where the jewels were set. He blew on it and what little dust had settled on it lifted right off. It was heavier than it looked, but not too heavy. It weighed just enough to feel important, and despite the large, shining rubies on its front, it balanced perfectly in Thomas's fingers.

  Thomas took a deep breath.

  "Some time ago," he said, "a man made his way
up this hill alone to petition the ruler of this land for supplication. For mercy. For food. He was imprisoned and poisoned, but he didn't lose hope. All that time he thought only of how his actions might help his family, his friends, and his fellows.

  "If there be a better man to take on this mantle, let him wear this crown," said Thomas and placed the crown on William's head. "I dub thee, William Farmer, Temporary Regent of the Village of Fogbottom."

  For the second time that day the crowd gasped collectively. William shot a look up at Thomas.

  Mr. Farmer said, "That's my other boy," and Chisel slapped him on the back again.

  The crowd erupted in cheers. William stood and hugged Thomas. Elizabeth rushed up and hugged them both. The rest of the Farmers joined next, and soon the whole crowd was part of the embrace.

  §

  "I have to ask," said Thomas later when he and William were alone, "who is 'Wyb of Habab?'"

  "Who is who?"

  "Wyb... Here," said Thomas and pulled out William's letter, now rather worse for wear.

  William read. "Oh!" he said and laughed. "Well now, look at that. It's nothing... Sometimes, you know, you run out of hidden message before you run out of important things to say."

  CHAPTER XXVII

  Somnia Salvebis

  His eyes shut tight, Thomas stepped slowly through the stable with arms and hands outstretched. Several of the horses nickered. He made out the strong, deep voice of Solstice, and the friendly greetings of half a dozen others. They remembered him.