The Green Knight & the Phantom Horsemen

Chapter 1

Sir Bercilak de Hautdesert ran as fast as he could. He may have never run that fast before in his life. Fortunately for him, he had stripped off his heavy armor and left it at the bottom of the hill. He wore a forest green tunic and matching pants and carried nothing but a sword, which was secured in its sheath and held in his left hand so as not to tangle his legs as he ran.

Bercilak felt the wind blowing through his wavy brown hair as he ran and despite the threat behind him, could not help but consider how unkempt his hair must look. A handsome and vain man, Bercilak worked hard to keep his hair and matching goatee well groomed and he never failed to capture the attention of the young maidens, many of whom would swoon from a single wink.

Sir Bercilak was a knight of Camelot, one of King Uther Pendragon's finest and bravest. He was a fierce warrior who had never been defeated. Young, rich, single, and dashingly handsome he was sought after by every maiden inside and outside of the kingdom. However, Bercilak enjoyed bachelorhood and did not know if he would ever settle down and marry. Certainly, if he did, she would have to be a special girl.

Sir Bercilak's reputation was legendary and was known far and wide as much for his dark green armor as for his fighting prowess. Those who did not know his name had certainly heard of the legend of the Green Knight. A lover of adventure and the fame and wealth it brought—Bercilak was never shy of seeking them out—and that was why he was in his current predicament, fleeing desperately down a hill.

As the knight ran, he heard the heavy footsteps behind him growing nearer. He could see the safety of his destination below on the hill, but now he was starting to doubt whether he would reach it. He pushed himself more, willing his legs to run faster. If he were caught he would certainly be killed, snapped in two like a small twig.

Bercilak could hear heavy breathing now and despite his better judgment, he turned his head to peek over his shoulder at his pursuer. His eyes went wide as he saw the massive ogre practically on top of him. The beast's reddish-orange hair blew in the wind. Its mouth was agape, its lips curled up over its yellow teeth as it snarled at Bercilak. The ogre was enormous, at least four times the size of the knight, but it looked even larger to Bercilak as it barreled down the hill after him.

"Twigg!" Bercilak shouted as he once again faced forward continuing to run as quickly as he could. He ran past a large tree that was bent over so that its top nearly touched the ground. The ogre was close behind, but before it could step past the tree, the top of the tree suddenly swung upward yanking a net which snared the ogre, hauling it into the air.

Bercilak stopped running and bent over with his hands on his knees as he panted loudly. He heard footsteps and turned to see his squire, Twigg, running toward him from his hiding spot behind a large boulder near the edge of the cliff.

"We got'em!" Twigg shouted excitedly.

Bercilak straightened and nodded as he continued to catch his breath. The two men watched as the ogre struggled in the net. Bercilak smiled at his squire. "Well done, Twigg," he said as he patted the young man on the shoulder. "Well done."

"Thank you, sir," Twigg replied.

Bercilak crossed his arms over his chest proudly, satisfied and happy with himself. The ogre growled at the two of them, but its roar was not nearly as terrifying as the sound that followed it. Bercilak's smile disappeared as the sound of breaking wood reached his ears. The top of the tree snapped and the net and ogre dropped to the ground with a thud.

"Oh, no," Bercilak said taking a step backward. He and his squire turned to face each other, terror etched upon both of their faces. "Run!" Bercilak yelled and Twigg nodded before turning and running down the hill. He did not make it far though, before he realized Bercilak was not beside him. He turned around to see his master standing his ground and drawing his sword from its sheath before tossing the sheath to the ground at his feet.