Sir Kay's Quest

(Unfortunately, Sir Tristan didn’t go on his quest.  He postponed it to write a poem to a young widow he’s wooing.  In the meantime, Sir Kay started out on his quest)

Sir Kay left Camelot and rode east on the Roman Road to Londinium.  Once there, he planned to get a boat to take him to Brittany across the Narrow Sea.  Kay had relatives there and he was sure they’d help him search for the author.  Kay figured it would be just like an author to write about Camelot while staying in another country.  Since sea voyages were expensive, his squire remained in Camelot and he rode alone.

Kay was older than most knights.  He was the same age as King Artie and the two had grown up together after Kay’s father become Artie’s foster parent.  Most of his hair had turned silver and he wore a gray linen tunic with black trews.

The road passed many farms and small steadings and Kay waved to the farmers and cart drivers who shared the road with him.

In the middle of the afternoon, dark clouds moved in and the wind became gusty.  Kay decided to look for a place to wait out the approaching thunderstorm.  To his left, he saw an large house surrounded with farms and orchards.  The workers wore brown hooded robes and Kay believed he had found one of the new Christian monasteries.  They were reputed to take in travellers so he turned his horse toward the house.

At the front door, he dismounted and a man opened the door.  “Hail, traveller,” he said.  “If you seek shelter from the storm, you are welcome to stay awhile.”

Kay thanked the man who looked familiar.  Kay was sure he had seen the man before, but he couldn’t remember ever meeting a monk. In a flash, he recalled the con artist who had fleeced the KRT Inc out of a lot of coins.  “You’re Bupkes.  You stole money from Lancelot.”  Kay reached for his sword hilt.

“Alas, I was called Bupkes once and I did indeed steal from the Knights, but now I have a different calling.  I used the money I stole to buy this land and start a sanctuary for other fallen men.  I am now called Abbot Bupkes.”

Kay took his hand away from the sword.  If Bupkes was reformed, there would be no need for retribution.  “Does this place have a name?”

“You are at the Monastery of Hanque.  Come inside.  It’s almost time for our dinner and you are welcome to join us.  If the storm lingers, you can also stay the night.”  Bupkes snapped a finger and young lad appeared in the doorway.  “See to the horse.”

Once the lad led the horse away, Kay and Bupkes enters the richly furnished house.  At the back of the house, they come to large dining room where servants had set out bread and beakers of wine.  A few minutes later, a dozen monks entered and sat down at a long table.

Once everyone was settled, Bupkes introduced their guest then said,”Let us eat.”

Kay expected a simple meal of bread, cheese and water.  Instead, the servants served wild duck, fish, roasted vegetables and a delicious wine.

After the meal was finished, Bupkes said, “Perhaps now that we’ve eaten, Sir Kay will join is worshipping our Creator.”

Taken aback, Kay replied, “I’m not a Christian.”

Bupkes and the other monks chuckled.  “Nor are we,” Bupkes said. “We honor our creator, the author Hank Quense.  And we beseech him to write another story in which our monastery becomes wealthy and enjoys vast political influence.”

Kay gawked at Bupkes and had a fleeting thought that staying here wasn’t such a good idea.  He tamped down his concern as Bupkes poured after-dinner drink for him.  Kay sipped the liqueur, and a minute later, slid off the bench and fell to the floor.

❀  ❀  ❀

When Kay awoke, he found himself tied to a chair.  His sword, purse and boots were missing.

“Ahh, you’re awake. Good!” Bupkes said.  “We have business to discuss.”

“Why am I tied up?” Kay struggled against the ropes.

“So you wouldn’t skip out without paying for the meal and for a night’s lodging.  You knights think everyone should give you free food.”

“What are you talkin’ about?  Untie me, you wretch.”

“Name calling isn’t necessary.  Now to business.  The bill for food and lodging comes to seventy-five silver pennies.  In your purse you have only five.  So you owe the monastery seventy pennies.  How do you plan to pay?”

“Seventy-five pennies?  That’s robbery.  I’ll see you hang for this.”  Kay glared at Bupkes.

“Since you don’t have a plan to pay up, I’ll give you one.”  Bupkes snapped a finger at a monk.  “Give him an ankle bracelet.”

The monk dragged an iron ball attached to a chain and clamped it to Kay’s right ankle.

“You’ll have to work here to pay off the debt.  I’ll pay you a silver penny per week.  So, in seventy weeks, we’ll take off the chain and you’ll be free to go.”

“Wait!  You can sell my armor to pay for the debt.” Kay picked up his leg to test the weight.  The ball and chain was heavy.

“Nonsense.  This is in the middle of farm land.  No on around here needs chain mail.  Untie him and take him outside.”

“How am I supposed to walk without boots?” Kay asked.

“Can’t put the ankle clamp over a boot.  Don’t worry, your feet will toughen up after a while.” Bupkes cackled and left the room.

The monk led a limping Kay into a field with a large boulder.  “Not much farm work to do this time of year, so you can chip rocks for a while then clean out the stable before sunset.”  He handed Kay his tools and left.

A filthy, scruffy man in ragged clothes banged a hammer against a chisel to knock off a chunk of rock. The man looked at Kay and his eyes opened wide.  “Kay.  I’m so glad to see you.   Now I can talk to someone.”

“Sir Bedivere. We thought you were dead?”

“I’ve been here for over a year.  Got sentenced to fifty-five weeks.  When it got down to ten, Bupkes added thirty more weeks for not working hard enough.  We’re gonna die here, Kay.”

“I just got sentenced to seventy.  I ain’t gonna stand for it.  I’ll escape and go for help.  You’ll see.”

“Good on you, Kay.  I used to think like that but then I just got worn down and I don’t care anymore.”

“Why are we chipping rocks?” Kay asked.

“The monks use the pebbles on their walkin’ paths so their feet don’t get muddy when it rains.  You’re also gonna do farmin’ work a coupla days a week.”

Kay examined his chain.  “I think I can knock off a link with this chisel and hammer.”

“Tried it.  Ain’t as easy as it seems.”

“No, look.  This link don’t look as strong as the others.  I’m gonna try to break it.”

“Don’t let ‘em catch you.  They’ll get you another chain and ball.”

“I’ll just give it a whack or two when no one is around.”

❀  ❀  ❀

It took Kay eight days to break the link by pounding it with the chisel and hammer a few times a day when no monks were around.

It happened after the mid-day meal of gruel, bread and water.  With a whack, the chain broke in two and Kay hooked the two lengths together. Fortunately, the monks didn’t notice him bending over to work on the chains.

Around midnight, Kay got up and woke Bedivere to embrace him.

“God be with ye,” Bedivere said.

“I don’t need a god, I need my horse.  If I get the horse, I’ll be back with a squadron of knights in two or three days.  Stay well until then.”  Kay bent over and removed the ball, then holding the chain with his hand to keep it from clanking, he sneaked out of their cell and into the stable.  He didn’t know where the saddle and tack was stored and he didn’t want to waste time searching, so he mounted bareback and left the monastery to head west to Camelot.

❀  ❀  ❀

Three days later, Kay, Lancelot and a dozen knights pounded into the monastery’s grounds.  With lances at the ready, they spread out searching for the monks but found no one except Bedivere.

“As soon as they realized Kay had escaped, they packed up and left.  They headed north.  Took my horse too.  They had it pulin’ a cart filled with stuff.  They left your weapons, armor and saddle in the main house.”

Kay pointed to Bedivere’s leg.  “They took off the chain.”  Kay still had the length of chain attached to his ankle.

“Oh,” Bedivere replied.  “They gave me the key on their way out.  He fished it out of a pocket.  “Allow me to unshackle your leg.”

“Let’s burn the place down,” Gawaine said.

“Are ye mad,” Kay said.  “This place is worth a fortune with all the farm land, the house, barns and stable.  Let’s seize it and sell it.  It’ll bring a lot of coins for KRT Inc.”

“Good idea.”  Lancelot pointed to another knight.  “There’s a town a few miles up the road.  Go there and fetch the bailiff.  We’ll make the seizure all legal like.  Maybe we can use this place to run an inn.  I’ll bet we can make money from it.”

Bedivere said to Kay, “I suppose you’re off to Londinium and Brittany to find the author?”

“I’ve changed my mind.  If we’re gonna make coins from this place, then I don’t need to sail to Brittany.”

“Nonsense,” Lancelot growled.  “This place will pay some of our expenses, but it won’t make us rich.  We still need to find the author.”

“Well, I’m stayin’ around Camelot from now on.  If this happened in Brittany, I’d have a lot more trouble gettin’ free and gettin’ back to Camelot.”

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