The Tale of Sir Henry

TsukasaXKwassaXKw and Washi Tamashii had the same assignment (write a Romance story, like King Arthur), so here goes:
My tale of a Knight, Henry by name

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This is surely folly good sir!” exclaimed Henry. The green-clad peasant merely stared down at his soft brown boots which were almost the same color of the dirt road on which he stood. He only stated, “It is true sir Knight, I swear it by the cross. Warlock Nathaniel has murdered the Duke and taken his lands for his own.”

“What of Lady Violet?” inquired Henry.

“He has placed a curse on the castle and Lady Violet! Sir Henry, you must defeat him, he is a villain.”

“Know you one who can break these dire enchantments Goodman?”

“Sir,” the peasant began, “there is always the Good Witch Angela.” Though, before the last echo of the last syllable left the air, Sir Henry was riding away with his golden hair streaming, and his green eyes blazing with purpose. The dust billowed behind him and the hooves of his horse echoed in the heat long after he was gone.

Henry and Steve, the plain brown steed, reached the cottage of Angela. The clearing was suffused with a sense of peace and well being. This was clearly an enchanted place. Henry requested, “Please stay here in this grove Steve, I shall go investigate.” Henry had no worries on Steve’s account, as he always seemed to understand what was going on, sometimes more than Henry himself. Henry negotiated the darkened dwelling with a sense of dread that was well rewarded as he fell to the floor with a loud clang. This was due to the fact that he had been dealt a blow to the head as well as the fact that he was wearing quite a few pounds of armor.

He awoke to a fierce looking old woman holding a dented iron skillet in her hand. “That should teach you to steal vegetables from a helpless Old Lady.”

“Wait,” cried Henry as another blow seemed imminent, “I am no thief, but indeed the good Sir Henry of Redhill. I have need of your assistance for Warlock Nathaniel has taken over the Castle Greenlake and the Lady Violet my love…”

“Old Nate’s trying to make himself a name then?” She continued in a bored sort of voice “I shall bestow upon you the Sling of Sir Munster. A single stone will fell him and,” but she got no further, as Henry had snatched the sling and was now out the door. “Have fun dear.” She said and turned once again to brewing tea.

“Cans’t thou believe it, Steve? I have a notion that once he is killed, the enchantments shall break and I shall be able to marry Violet! On my good steed, with all haste!” as he said this, a look of boyish excitement stole over his face. Steve rolled his horse eyes, and galloped onwards.

They reached the town in about a day, and interrogated a castle guard, who was impressed by the nobility of Henry’s intent, but even more by the gold coins slipped discretely into his hand. Henry was able to learn that Nathaniel was taken to gazing at the sunset from the tallest tower’s southwest window. Sir Henry made his plans, bouncing ideas off Steve as was his custom. Finally he settled on a plan.

Henry crouched in the bushes after infiltrating the castle with the help of the guard and Steve. The bushes themselves were located in the castle garden, they were a peculiar bred of rose and appeared to be so red, that they were almost black. This was not a knightly sort of occupation to his mind, though, he knew it was the only way. Henry was a fair hand at the sling and had used it extensively in his boyhood. Nathaniel came to the window, his dark face clearly outlined by the light of a single candle held in his hand. With a cry of “Take this you knave!” Henry heaved the stone. It hit him between the eyes with a crunch and Nathaniel slowly fell, the light in his eyes dimming with every second, until all presence of life was gone.
He heard a cry and a girl with long black, lustrous hair came out into the garden. “Are thou the Lady Violet?”

“I am, but who are you?” she said with a puzzled look at Nathaniel’s body, which quickly turned into a look of gratitude towards Sir Henry.

“I am Sir Henry of Redhill, and I came to rescue you Lady.” He said with a startled glance at the shining white marble walls of the castle. A moment before they had been but common grey stone, with some thin vines twining up the walls.

“Violet,” came a voice from the direction of Steve.

“Oh”, cried Violet, “Uncle Stephen! Where hast thou been? Warlock Nathaniel hast worked the utmost evil on our good home while you were away. He has murdered my Father.” As she said this, there were tears in her eyes, and her face was shadowed by sorrow.

“What hast thou done with noble Steve?” said a very confused Sir Henry.

“You see I was transformed into a horse by the evil magic of my brother’s magician and fled to Redhill Castle, where Sir Henry and his brothers lived. Nathaniel must have taken over while I was in residence there. Though, Sir Henry’s noble father heard of this and sent him to seek out the trouble plaguing the land. I am afraid that he also told Henry of you, Lady Violet, and he has fallen in love with you. I have no wish to become Duke, and I agree heartily that Henry would be best for the task, with a little training.”

“I am to be wed, and to Sir Henry?” asked Violet with a smile, “I think that would be satisfactory.”

“Stephen, wouldst thou consent to become my advisor after I am wed to the Lady Violet?” Henry asked tentevely.

Stephen gave his acceptance with a sigh and Henry and Violet were married and they all lived at Castle Greenlake as happily as anyone has ever been.

End