I realized that the writing prompts this week, were all titles of songs to do with dancing (not a sport I’ve ever been very proficient at!), but none of them struck a chord with me… ha ha. The fact that the prompts were about dancing caused me to recall “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight,” which is the title of a song by the progressive rock band Genesis. I’ve enjoyed their music since seeing them live in the 1970s near the beginning of their long and amazing career. To help me out, I threw—or cast, however you want to take it—four Rory Story Cubes (which incidentally I picked up on the Jet2 in-flight shop on one of my trips to Malaga, Spain). The story in no way follows the lyrics of the song; I only used the title for inspiration. If you’re interested you can see the band playing the song live in 1973 here.
Piper and I sniffed as we opened the front door, taking the cool air deep into our lungs. It made me cough a little, and Piper “ruffed” as we closed the garden gate.
Round the side of the house and down the cut in the dark. Never mind, I had Piper for protection with me! He could yap any aggressor to death.
We rustled over the crisp leaves and emerged on the path down to the canal. Pools of yellow, buttery light from the lamps lit our way until it petered out. Moorhens and ducks were, if not asleep, making their final preparations for some slumber, and disturbed by us, squawked and scuttered their annoyance. The water was beginning to glaze over as the temperature dropped. I could well understand the birds’ hurry. Piper ignored them, being busy with canine investigations of the undergrowth along the right side of the towpath.
I felt for my earbuds in my pocket and unexpectedly felt two dice embedded amongst the used tissues, dog bags (thankfully empty), a coin of some denomination—felt like a pound—and a little fluff. I cradled my Grandad’s old ivory die between my fingers as we two walked through the twigs, leaves, and rapidly freezing mud on the last dog walk of the day. We both started as some small, tough, nameless thing ran across the path and dived with a slight plop into the water.
The moon eased past the clouds and lit up the tunnel. I stopped and shook the two dice, then gently threw them onto the flat stone on top of the low wall, part of the tunnel foundations. Double six amazingly! I grinned and then jumped a mile when a cool voice said in my ear, “I bet you couldn’t do that again…”
I couldn’t see anyone! I was hallucinating now. Must have been the half glass of Paddy’s I’d had tonight. “Oh God, I promise you I will stop the drink if you get me and Piper home safely tonight,” I muttered.
“Well, what say you?”
“Is that you, Piper?”
The dog ruffed again and gave me the look that says he knows I’m an idiot, but it’s his duty to carefully steer me through life.
“No, I am not a piper. See for yourself.” said the disembodied voice.
A shimmer lit up the frosted path and wall and grew brighter, almost dazzling me, as a figure emerged out of ectoplasm, I guessed. My heart was beating wildly, and I tried to hold it in my chest. Piper was sat at the side of the path as if transfixed, looking up at the emerged man who wore a helmet, a well-worn tabard, with a bow and quiver of arrows on his back, a short sword at his side, keen eyes, and a bristling beard.
“It was I who spoke. A question, although not one you need to answer if you are unwilling, but why are you abroad at this hour?”
“A dog walk,” I managed to utter.
Then another dog emerged from behind the figure, and a few steps back, its owner, Robin, trudging along.
“Lovely evening,” he offered walking through the shimmering ghostly figure. Geoffrey, as he later introduced himself, reassembled with no trouble.
“Isn’t it?” I agreed with Robin as he disappeared down the path leftward.
“Is the bet on?” said Geoffrey.
“Well, I suppose, but can we get on with our walk after?”
“I should think so,” he said, his eyes twinkling away like stars.
I picked up the dice and rolled them around my fingers, cupped my hands, and jiggled the dice, then released them with a tip-tap onto the stonework.
“Sir, you have magic in your hands!” I was pretty stunned at my second double six throw of the night.
“Luck of the Irish,” I suggested to the knight.
He swiftly drew his sword and crouched down, prepared to strike.
“Where?! Damned Irish rovers, animals the lot of them! Get behind me!”
“No, it’s just a saying. There’s no one else here. Look!” I spread my hands and traced the path left and right of us to show Geoffrey.
Satisfied, he straightened up and sheathed his sword, frowned at me, saying, “Don’t do that again!”
“Well, anything else?” I said. “Only, me and the dog haven’t finished our walk, and I suppose you’ll be wanting to get on…”
“Well… just one more thing, kind magician,” said the moonlit knight. “I wonder if you could assist me with a bit of bow practice tonight?”
“No way. I’ve seen what those things can do in the films.”
“The films?”
“Never mind. They rip through a man like a knife through butter. Devastating.”
“Oh, there will be no danger to you nor your fine rat.”
“Rat? That’s no rat!”
The knight raised his eyebrows. “Well, if you say so, sir, though it does look a bit like a rat at the moment…”
“He’s a dog, very low to the ground, picks up water and mud like a good ‘un from Mexico, used by the Incas to warm their feet in bed, apparently.”
The knight looked doubtful. “If you say so, though I have never heard of those people nor that place, Mexigo. You have a vivid imagination, I must say, and I have greatly enjoyed meeting you tonight! You would finally crown the evening for me by assisting me with a little bow practice. I have seen something that would be something of an achievement for me.”
“Go on,” I responded while Piper pricked up his ears and stood up, wagging his tail, thinking that was the signal to leave.
“You will need to walk through that tunnel. I will shout, ‘Loose!’ and when I join you on the other side, you will verify that my arrow has cleared the tunnel.”
“How do I know it’s not going to kill me?!”
“I will protect you!”
I argued some more but felt an odd compunction to help the knight in his ghostly, mad quest. Geoffrey reached into the night and pulled out of nowhere some chainmail and a rather battered-looking helmet, all of which fitted me.
“Fine, that’s me, and what about Piper?”
The knight threw back his head and roared with laughter, saying, “Our armourers make no suit of that small a size!!”
Once more, he reached into the night, and out of the ether, his hand came back with an empty quiver.
“Put this on, front ways, I suggest.”
Once I’d done that, which wasn’t easy in chainmail, the knight scooped up the suddenly terrified dog and placed him in the quiver.
“Shout when you have reached the end of the tunnel and when you are quite safe, on your command, I will loose my arrow.” He nodded at me, hoping to convince me.
As much as I doubted it, as though under a spell, I walked on, with footsteps and clanking chainmail echoing. Piper, while enjoying the new vantage point, did not like the unexpected drops of water from the roof onto his head.
Eventually, the tunnel ended, and we emerged, seeking a safe lookout. Though I did not believe my ghostly archer would be able to fire an arrow its entire length, straight and true.
On top of a high-level path from the canal bank and protected by the tunnel fortifications, I shouted “Ahoy!” in my loudest voice as I couldn’t think of anything else and waited.
“Loose!” shouted the knight who had arrived with a chill by my side a moment later. We both stared intently at the tunnel, and almost immediately, a fiery, gyrating arrow whirred through the air and plunged with a hiss into the icy canal.
“There!”
“You didn’t need me! You could have done that on your own. In fact, you did! And this chainmail? What was that for?!”
“You were the one who was concerned about being hit, magician. And you carried your rat in the quiver! But best of all, you verified my arrow was shot completely through the tunnel.”
“And who am I going to tell that to?”
“The noble company of archers may contact you as they may wish to carry out a survey. If you do hear from them, I would be very grateful if you would respond favourably!”
“Oh, of course. Email?” I remarked.
“By arrow. All the instructions for return will be in the survey.”
“Of course, they will,” I said sarcastically. “We’ll use the back door for a while, Piper, until we receive the survey.”
“Obviously, I cannot guarantee the arrival date nor the direction of travel for the arrow, so it may well be best if you take care while leaving your dwelling.”
“I am really going to have to give up the Paddy’s. It’s doing me no good at all,” I muttered to myself.
“The what, magician?”
“The Irish.”
“Ah, you don’t catch me out again,” he said after looking around to confirm we were safe. “I must bid you and your rat farewell. I don’t expect we’ll meet again, unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless I need to speak to you about the survey…” he narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, there’ll be no need for that, archer. I can guarantee it! You can trust me.”
“I do hope so. It’s been a splendid evening and you have helped me in my aim for promotion in the Company! I am very grateful.” He bowed and as he had appeared in a shimmering light so he faded away until just a firefly danced over the place where he had stood and then it too disappeared.
Piper looked at me and I at him. My chainmail and helmet had disappeared with the moonlight knight. Quietly we turned and retraced our steps through the tunnel. I wondered how I was going to tell the wife she would have to stay indoors in case a survey arrow arrived suddenly one day, from out of the blue. I wish I’d asked the normal timeframe for delivery…
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