Each of the knights goes their separate ways. Sir Robin rides north through the dark forest of Ewing, accompanied by his favorite minstrels, their melodies offering both comfort and company as the dark trees loom overhead, casting long shadows on the path ahead.
"That's... that's enough music for now, lads," Sir Robin says with a slight nervous laugh.
The minstrels pause their playing at his command. Robin scans the surroundings, his expression shifting with concern. "Looks like there's dirty work afoot," he mutters.
Suddenly, a wave of tension washes over him, and he glances around warily, his nerves visibly heightened. Despite the unease settling in, they continue riding. As they move along, they encounter two farmers walking in the opposite direction. The pair passes by, engaged in conversation.
"Anarcho-syndicalism is a way of preserving freedom," Dennis remarks, his voice filled with conviction.
"Oh, Dennis, forget about freedom. We haven't got enough mud," the woman responds.
Robin's gaze follows the two farmers as they pass by, his eyes lingering on them for a moment before he turns his attention back to the path ahead. As Robin and his minstrels continue their journey, they enter a grim area where lifeless bodies lie scattered across the ground. With his heart pounding, he cautiously makes his way through the scene, his eyes fixed on the ground ahead. Suddenly, a loud command of "Halt!" rings out, causing Robin to freeze in his tracks and immediately look up.
In front of them stands a formidable figure, a knight unlike any they've encountered before. He is imposing, his armor gleaming under the dim light, and most notably, he has three heads.
"Who art thou?" the three-headed knight asks, his voice a deep, commanding chorus from all three of his heads.
The minstrel begins to sing once again, his voice rising to meet the familiar melody that fills the air, as if to underscore the knight's courage, even in the face of such an intimidating adversary. "He is brave Sir Robin, brave Sir Robin..."
"Shut up!" Robin commands, his voice sharp and filled with frustration as he shoots a glance at the minstrel. He quickly shifts his focus back to the imposing three-headed knight, his expression now tinged with growing anxiety.
"Um, n-- n-- nobody, really. I'm j-- j-- ju-- just, um... passing through," he stammers, his words faltering under the tension and pressure of the situation.
"What do you want?" the three heads of the knight demand simultaneously.
Unsure of how to respond, Robin opens his mouth to speak. His mind searches for the right words, but before he can say anything, the minstrel begins to sing.
"To fight and..."
"Shut up!" Robin snaps, his tone sharp and more irritated than before. He glares at the minstrel, who has interrupted him once again. A look of disappointment crosses the minstrel's face as he realizes the interruption has not been well received.
Robin gives a tense answer to the knight's question. Meanwhile, the minstrel's expression shifts from disappointment to anger as he crosses his arms and glares at the ground.
"Um, a-- nothing. Nothing, really. I, uh-- j-- j-- just-- just to, um-- just to p-- pass through, good Sir Knight," Robin stammers, his voice wavering with uncertainty as the tension mounts. His gaze flickers between the three heads of the knight, hoping that his answer might be enough.
YOU ARE READING
MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL
Humor"Bring out your dead!" "Here's one.", a man says, who approaches with a body hanging over his shoulder. "Nine pence.", the dead collector says. "I'm not dead!", the person, who's supposed to be dead, says. "What?" The dead collector thought he...
