SIR BLODRY OF BRITAIN Or, How Blodry became famous for a Knight Or, Putting the Great into Britain By DJ Tyrer
	Sir Blodry had not originally been of the opinion that knighthood was the life for him, whatever his foster father, Sir Melodias, had said on the matter (indeed, particularly because of what he said on the matter...). He had thought that becoming a Friar sounded a much better deal, but was now revising his opinion. Since becoming a knight of the County of Rhydychan, he had spent most of his time in the Great Hall, eating, drinking and wenching. That was the life! As long as the job didn't involve violence then he was more than happy with his lot. "You know," he said to Sir Antenor, one of his fellow knights, "with Arthur on the throne and peace breaking out all across the land, life sure is good for us knights, nowadays. No war, just the easy life." Sir Antenor nodded and took a huge swig of mead. "Speaking of Arthur...." "Yes?" "I heard tell that he is arriving at Rhydychan this very afternoon as part of his tour of Britain. Better get your armour polished, Blodry!" Sir Blodry quickly finished his suckling pig and then dashed off to do just that - it was a good job he went then and didn't wait until he had finished the jellied boar's head as he was only just finishing as he heard the fanfare of trumpets and clip-clop of hooves on the drawbridge that heralded the arrival of King Arthur. Quickly he pulled his armour on and rushed down the stairs to the courtyard where the Count of Rhydychan and his knights were already greeting Arthur. Puffing heavily, as a result of one too many Bear fillets, he stumbled down the stairs and burst into the courtyard with an "excuse me!" He was more than a little shocked to see that Arthur was looking straight at him. "Aha!" exclaimed the King. "We have a brave volunteer!" With a sinking heart, he realised he must have run in just as Arthur had asked for volunteers. "But..." "And who is this brave sir kinght?" asked Arthur. "Why, this is Sir Blodry, son of Boggis of Dun," exclaimed Sir Antenor, helpfully. "But..." said Sir Blodry. Nobody heard. "Aha!" exclaimed the King. "I remember him! I knighted him but a six-month ago. He won the melee here, I recall." "That's him!" agreed Sir Antenor, drowning out another "But..." from Blodry. "Why, just this morning he was complaining of there being no means for a knight to prove himself!" ("But..."). "No wars or such like - no surprise that he should volunteer now!" Blodry shook his head, wondering if Antenor had been listening to an entirely dissimilar conversation earlier. He most certainly did not want to volunteer. Especially if it meant doing something dangerous. "Steop forward, Sir Blodry," commanded the King. He did so. Reluctantly. Arthur patted his shoulder. "Good knight, you shall be rewarded well for this." At least that sounded alright... "It is decided: Sir Blodry shall be my champion and do battle with the champion of Rome for my honour." But that didn't sound alright. Sir Blodry felt sick. As champion he was provided with a slap-up feast. Normally he would really have appreciated this, but today he did not feel much like eating. Indeed, he felt far more like crying. He was just forcing himself to eat a little venison when one of the herlads announced the arrival of Sir Decimus, the champion of Rome. Although it had passed through hard times and been sacked a couple of times, the city of rome, or at least its Emperor, still perceived itself as ruler of the world. Even though imperial rule barely extended beyond the palace grounds, the Emperor was intent on reclaiming everywhere that was Roman. That was why he had sent the Imperial Champion to britain to demand its return. British independence was riding on this battle and that hardly helped Sir Blodry to feel any better about the whole situation. He felt even less confident when he saw Sir Decimus, who was already waiting for him in the courtyard. Despite his name, which hinted at an effete, patrician ancestry, Sir Decimus was a huge, hulking Goth! Blodry nearly fainted at the sight of him, but Sir Antenor kept him on his feet. "Let battle commence!" called King Arthur. Sir Blodry gulped. Sir Decimus chuckled. Blodry staggered reluctantly forward. Decimus strode forward confidently. Battle was joined. Sir Decimus swung his mighty mace and sent Sir Blodry flying into a wall witha mighty crash! He lay there groaning with dents all over his formerly shining armour. A cry of shock went up from the assembled knights. Sir Antenor helped him to his feet. "Good strategy, Blodry! Now he'll underestimate you when you move in for the kill!" For some reason, that hadn't featured in his thinking. He staggered forward, closed his eyes and charged. Sir Decimus was still gloating with his back to Sir Blodry and didn't see him coming straight at him, his sword held out before him. Suddenly a pained expression crossed the Roman champion's face. He looked down and saw the sword point protruding from his stomach. "Oh..." he said as he fell down dead. Blodry opened his eyes cautiously. People seemed to be cheering and applauding - he looked around. They appeared to be cheering and applauding him. He looked down: Sir Decimus seemed to be dead. That was a bit of luck! "Well done, Sir Blodry!" exclaimed Arthur, walking over to him. "You shall be well rewarded for this! You shall be made a knight of the Round Table! But first, you shall have a great feast!" Suddenly, Sir Blodry felt quite happy.                                                                                  ENDS