Wandering Minds

A True Knight

The sun was beginning to set on another harvest day. It's now distant rays were causing the rough fence posts to cast long shadows with clouds becoming stained with shades of orange and red. A wild patch of sunflowers and honeysuckle turned their petals to catch the last light of the day. Tristan sat perched on the small uneven fence, watching as the sun made its slow descent into the horizon. When the harvest moon began to shine brightly in the night sky, he sighed, jumped down from the fence, and began to walk back up the hill to the small cottage that he calls home.

Upon opening the crooked door, he saw his mother sitting in a chair by the fireplace. She was humming an old folk song as she passed a silver needle through one of his father's old shirts. She was a sturdy woman with calloused and rough hands, due to years of helping his father tend to the harvest. Although she was reaching the later years of her life she was very beautiful, with thick auburn hair that she usually kept tied up with a piece of cloth, and crisp hazel eyes that danced whenever she laughed. When she was a young woman the wealthier suitors in town would flatter and try to woo her, but she never paid any mind to them once she met Tristan's father during a festival. She heard the door swing shut, looked up from her mending after and said, "Tristan is that you?"

"Yes mother, it's me" Tristan replied as he walked over to where she was sitting. He pulled up a small stool to sit on. His mother smiled as he sat down, folded her husband's now mended shirt, placing it in her lap. "How was the sunset tonight? You were out longer than usual." She said as she examined her son's lanky form. He shared the same thick auburn hair that she had, falling in short, loose ringlets around his tanned face. His father's green eyes stared back at her as he sighed, "The same as every other night."

Her warm eyes crinkled with concern and she took his calloused hand in her own, squeezing it. "Is something troubling you, my son?" Tristan stayed silent for a moment, watching as the bright flames danced in the stone fireplace. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and took his mother's hands in his own. "Mother, I have been thinking as I watch the sunset each night. Thinking...thinking about what I want to do with my life."

His mother's forehead furrowed in confusion, "Tristan what are you talking about? You have a set path, you'll be taking over the land and tend to the harvest when your father and I are no longer able." Tristan let go of his mother's hands and stood from the wooden stool. "That's just it mother! What if I don't want to plant and tend the harvest? What if I want to do something else? Be something else?"

"What else would you want to be Tristan?" His mother asked looking up at her son, too young to be called a boy, yet not old enough to be a man.

Tristan knelt down before his mother, once again taking her hands in his own. "Mother, I want to be a knight. I want to protect the kingdom, I want to see the world!" His eyes were shining bright and a joyful smile graced his lips. His heart fluttered anxiously as he watched his mother's face, waiting to see how she'll respond to the news. Just as he was about to give up hope, he felt his mother's strong arms pull him into an embrace. She pulled away from him, but kept a hold on his shoulders and gave him a small smile. "My son, a knight."

"You aren't angry with me?" Tristan questioned, his voice tinged with confusion. His mother simply smiled and shook her head. "No Tristan, I'm proud of you. I know that it's not what your father and I wanted for you, but it's what you want for yourself, and I will support you in whatever you choose to become." Tristan had never felt so relieved in his life, and engulfed his mother in his lanky arms. "Thank you mother."

Pulling away, Tristan rose and stood to his full height, his mother following suit. "Get some rest, you should leave before first light." She gave him a peck on the cheek before quietly opening the door to the room she shared with her husband. Tristan shed his worn boots and lay in his small cot, his heart full of both excitement and nervousness.

Before he knew it his mother was gently nudging him awake, helping him gather his things into a leather satchel. His mother walked with him to the end of the path, and gently put a worn leather coin purse into his hands. "It isn't very much, bu-" Tristan cut her off with a kiss to her forehead. "Mother it's more than enough, thank you. But what are you going to tell father? He'll be asking where I went."

"Leave your father to me Tristan." She said with a smile. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she closed Tristan's fingers over the soft leather of the coin purse. "Goodbye my son." "Goodbye mother, I promise that I will make you proud." And with those words Tristan began the long walk towards the main road, leaving his old life and family behind.

After three days of easy travel, Tristan reached the capital and stood in awe at the sight of the king's white marble palace that stood in the capital's square. Maneuvering his way through the bustling marketplace of the capital he quickly discovered the palace gates. As he got closer he noticed that there were knights all around him; relaxing and having a pint in the tavern, grooming their stoic horses, patrolling the marketplace, as well as stationed all over the palace gate.

Upon entering the open gate, Tristan followed what appeared to be knights in training gear over to the the knight's quarters. "Excuse me, do you know where I can find Sir Cain?" Tristan asked a large knight who was passing by him. "Last door, left side of the hall." The older knight curtly replied before continuing on his way. Tristan soon found himself upon a heavy mahogany door, a silver plaque picturing the king's crest of a blooming rose was hung on the door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked loudly three times. After the third knock, he heard a deep voice call out, "Enter."

Tristan pushed open the heavy door and was met with a room that could easily contain his family's cottage. The room was very well lit, with a row of windows on one of the walls as well as several hanging lanterns on the ceiling. An unmade bed was off on the far side of the room and was opposite a small sitting area that was positioned around a fireplace. At the center of the room stood a large mahogany desk, overflowing with maps, charts, parchment, quills, and inkwells. An older man with graying hair and equally gray eyes sat at the desk, intensely studying what Tristan thought to be a map of some kind.

Tristan cleared his throat, causing the older man to look up from the map. "Good afternoon Sir Cain, my name is Tristan Roland, son of Nicholas Roland." Tristan announced, bowing. "What brings you to my quarters, Tristan Roland?" Sir Cain inquired, leaning back in his chair. Tristan could feel sweat building up on his brow, and he was afraid that his heart was beating so hard that it would burst out of his chest. "Sir Cain, I wish to become one of the king's knights, and follow under your command." Tristan replied, his voice wavering slightly. He couldn't tell if his mind was playing tricks on him, but he swore that Sir Cain gave a small smile at his answer. Sir Cain nodded, and sat back deeper into his chair, folding his hands over his chest. "You say that you want to be a knight, boy. So tell me, why I should make you a knight?"

The question startled Tristan and for a moment he was speechless, his nerves getting the better of him. He was thoroughly convinced that he was not going to be able to answer the older knight's question, until he looked into the man's wise steel gray eyes. "Sir, I want to be a knight because I want to do something with my life. I want to protect the kingdom and the people I love in it. I want to experience far away lands and meet new and interesting people. But most of all, I want to be a knight because I believe that I can." Sir Cain was silent for a moment when his face suddenly broke into a warm and welcoming smile. "That was the exact answer that I was waiting to hear. You, Tristan Roland, have the makings a true knight."

He stood up from his seat and came around to the other side of the desk, facing Tristan, and held out a hand that was rough from years of holding a sword. Tristan took it and gave it a firm shake, a smile spreading on his own face. "Come along lad, the king is throwing a feast tonight in honor of the harvest, we can talk more on the way." Sir Cain turned on his heel and pulled open the large door. Tristan followed him eagerly, and for the first time in his life Tristan felt like he was where he needed to be.  

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Author's Note: I am thinking about possibly expanding this idea into a more detailed/in depth short story, as I feel like I could have done more with this particular assignment.