A Tale of Tragedy and Triumph

A Fable Positively Grounded in Reality

And thus it came to pass that on the morning of the sixth day the gods atop Mount Coventry were deeply immersed in a discourse most vehement on the nature of mortal wisdom. Lucas, the Prince of Darkness and Discord, peered down upon the terrestrial countryside and did exclaim to the deities observing the creatures below, "Yon mortals are simpletons! Behold how they pay more attention to their horses and armor than they do to themselves or their progeny. Look ye at that earthly fool!" Pointing at one such mortal, he said "Mind how he doth dote upon his steed by bedecking her withers and brushing her coat until it gleams, whilst his children do without victuals and his fields go to seed. I shall wager my heavenly station here on Mount Coventry, upon the risk of spending eternity in the everlasting Lake of Fire and Brimstone, that such fools might keep attending to their horses even though they be near death."

"Thou hath a wager!" cried Hermes the wing-footed God of Speed, whose namesake chariot was highly prized by mortals of blue hair. "These earthlings were created in the image of the immortals and therefore they have judgment. Wouldst not any true red-blooded male descended from the gods not choose to have his steed in fine fettle rather than attend to his urchins or lands?"

"Balderdash!!" shouted Lucas, "I shall prove that the humans are without sense. I shall choose one by chance and he shall verify my contention." And thus did the Evil One select good Squire Wrenchalot of Bartlett, a guileless vassal, with no breeding as a mounted knight, to be the dupe of his celestial wager.

Then did Lucifer transmutate himself into the image of Sir David of the hamlet Roses, a good comrade to Squire Wrenchalot, and thus did the Dark One fill the brain of Squire Wrenchalot with tantalizing myths of breathing life into a long-dead sporting steed. Slowly Squire Wrenchalot did become entranced by these fables. His judgment beclouded after several tankards of strong drink, Wrenchalot vowed to one day take for himself a decrepit mare and resurrect her as his own majestic mount. Then did Lucas stealthily reveal to Squire Wrenchalot through a chronicle offering just such an equine cadaver for disposal and Squire Wrenchalot did fall prey to the demon’s trick. He did travel across the Enchanted River of Foxes, at great peril, to the manor of the purveyor, who was actually the God of Discord, come to earth in disguise to entice Squire Wrenchalot. "This steed’s carcass can be made robust again," said the Evil One. "It will only cost thee a duty of ten pieces of silver." Sir Wrenchalot, having fallen under the spell of the Prince of Discord, did not perceive the steed as the dead nag it really was, but rather, due the Devil’s bewitchment, he beheld a magnificent beast, young, nimble and as stalwart as she had once been when she frolicked as a yearling. In truth she was but an old, broken-down horse with vermin droppings on her saddle, leprosy in her fetlocks and rain scald upon her coat.

"Varlet! I shall give thee but five pieces of silver and not a farthing more!" exclaimed Squire Wrenchalot.

"It is done!" cried the Demon bent on deceiving our noble, but foolish hero. "Thou must portage this steed back to thy manor, since she can no longer heed the bridle well enough to halt. Thou must hire a chariot drawn by great beasts to traverse the river of Foxes to regress to thy homeland with thy inanimate destrier." And thus did Squire Wrenchalot bring back to his manor, the derelict steed now known as Lucille. The Squire’s good spouse, a long-suffering matron, diminutive of stature, but lofty of resolve, scowled upon the squire’s acquisition, but she said naught. She withdrew into their manor, entreated onto the Holy Virgin for patience, and then did take a vow of celibacy until her husband’s reason should return to him and he cast off the spell of the wicked Prince of Darkness.

That same day did Squire Wrenchalot call upon his neighbor, Squire Goodwrench to study his new steed. Squire Goodwrench, who was a wise man in the domain of horseflesh and who had trained many champion steeds, looked closely upon the mount and said unto Wrenchalot, "Foolish knave! Dispatch this beast to the Glueworks! Thou shalt needs apply more leeches to bleed her bad humors than there are in all the kingdom. Her fetlocks have leprosy and she heaves badly when she is spurred. Her gait is unsteady and there is no remedy for her strangles. This horse will require more silver than thou hath and even then she will not be worthy to serve thee well in jousting." The evil spell of the Prince of Discord had begun to fade and then did Sir Wrenchalot behold that he had been deceived by the demon Lucifer.

"Fie upon thee Prince of Discord, ye wicked and accursed wretch!," roared Squire Wrenchalot. "I shall prove thee false! I shall resurrect this steed and I shall evidence to thee that mortals are not as simple as thou would suppose. No demon can encumber a mortal who is pure in heart from rejuvenating his mount! Verily, I shall make this steed hale again, and she shall be known as Lucille, the Wonder Horse and she shall be the fairest in the land! I swear upon my ratchet that this will come to pass or I shall perish trying."

Then Squire Wrenchalot began to remove some of the steed’s accouterments and he did fill many vessels from the House of Maxwell until his entire stable was bursting with her entrails. But he could not budge a singular oxidized bolt which attached her hoof to its shoe. He was mightily nettled and endlessly did he struggle with the recalcitrant fastener until he did become faint of hunger and thirst, but still he continued in vain to wrestle with the stubborn bolt which remained as tightly attached as a nun’s knees. Then he did swallow a hearty quaff of ale into which some of the horse’s fluids had inadvertently leaked, and did thence swoon, and an apparition appeared before him. It was the Great Matriarch of all noble knights triumphant - The Lady of the Dolomite.

"Take heart gentle Squire Wrenchalot," said the vision. "The gods have observed closely thy efforts and have taken special pity upon thee. I have been dispatched to bestow upon thee three crucial pieces of wisdom which will enable thee to revive this steed. Only after thou do as I say in each of these instances, wilt thou fulfill thy dream and ride triumphant upon thy steed. First, thou must procure a special tome written by wise Sir Bentley of Flechtamstead. Study it carefully, Squire Wrenchalot, for it doth reveal many of the enigmas which will benefit thee in thy quest. Second, thou must join the guild of the Knights Triumphant and they will help thee cipher the many riddles which will confront thee on thy struggle. On the first sabbath of the new moon, must thou journey to the sacred grove of the Golden Pheasant and there enter the inn of Mack. Proceed thee into the cellar of this inn and enter into the hall of the Knights Triumphant and seek out their leader. Then shall thou pledge thy loyalty to them and shall they give thee specialized wisdom and council which may help thee in thy endeavor. Lastly, there will come a day when it will appear to thee as if all thy effort has been for naught. Then shalt thou break the seal of this parchment that I now bestow upon thee, and then shall the final secret be revealed to thee." And the apparition delivered unto him a sealed envelope and cautioned him never to break the seal unless he had no other hope left, lest more evil than good be done. And then, the vision spoke to him for the final time. "Beware Squire Wrenchalot of the power of this envelope. If thou should open it before thou needs, an even more abominable spell will befall thee. Under dire circumstances, must thou never allow thy spouse access to this envelope!" And the apparition began to vanish.

"Wait, oh blessed vision!, One last boon, if thou would be so merciful. Pray help me comprehend how to extract this cursed fastener which will not yield its hold," entreated the mortal.

"Thou shall one day encounter a sorcerer who wilt reveal to thee the secret to removing this stubborn fastener and the evil spell of Lucas will be broken. And then shall thee and thy steed stride triumphant and thou will be known as Sir Wrenchalot and the Knights of Oakton shall bestow upon thee many an accolade. My time is short. Take heed my council Squire Wrenchalot, and thou shall prevail"

And then did Wrenchalot regain his bearings. He called out to his good wife. "Woman, what day is this?" for he had lost all track of time.

"Addle-brained Dolt, know ye not that this is the Sabbath. Make thee ready for the arrival of my mother who now comes hither for a lengthy stay. "

"Gadzooks! How can this be? I must make haste.," he said to himself "Tell thy beloved mother I must take my leave," spoke the squire to his chagrined mate for he felt that an encounter with the demons of the enchanted forest would be far better than enduring the cacophony of his mother-in-law. And straightaway did Squire Wrenchalot mount his best plow horse and journey to the sacred grove of the golden pheasant and seek out the inn of Mack. Upon the way he came upon an old peddler with a cart full of ancient manuscripts. "Good Sir," said the peddler, "wouldst thou offer a few farthings for a slightly soiled copy of the Sir Bentley’s Book of Sorcery.?"

"How knowest thou that this is exactly what the vision of the Lady of Dolomite told me I would need? Straightaway, give me the book, for I must have it for my very own."And Squire Wrenchalot paid the peddler and sat down to study the sacrosanct volume.

‘Isolate the dynamo using a suitable spanner. Then, whilst deploying Churchill tool #666, remove the gudgeon pin and renew with a suitable replacement if necessary. See 56.01423,’ he read. "Odds Bodkins," exclaimed our hero. "I am well schooled in the language of the realm, but this makes no sense. Per chance some wise man from amongst the Knights Triumphant can translate this for me," said the squire to himself. Then he packed the book into his knapsack and proceeded to the sacred grove. There in the courtyard did he espy many sporting horses which bore similar marking and brands to that of his own beloved Lucille. There were ponies which did spit fyre [and pass gas] and steeds which resembled stags more than horses. And all of the beasts did mark their territory with stains of their bodily fluids. "This must be the place told to me by the Lady of the Dolomite" he said to himself. And then he did enter the inn and proceed down into the dungeon where he did meet many knights who shared a special bond to keep their mounts forever young. And they did quaff ale and tell tales of good Sir Peter of Roberts and the churlish jester Boomer who did playfully cast spells of feeble-mindedness on the Knights.

"Hear ye! Hear ye!," proclaimed one knight of regal bearing, "The monthly symposium of the Knights triumphant of the Kingdom of Isoa shall come to order. Are there any amongst us who has not been sworn into our brotherhood? Come forth and present thyself and tell of us thy steed. "And Squire Wrenchalot stood up and identified himself and told the knights of his tribulations at the hands of Lucas and he was made welcome. And thus did Sir Wrenchalot embrace King Spuds and good Queen Barbara who reigned as lord and lady of the realm. And he did bow before them and pledge his eternal loyalty to the guild. And he offered up an oath of fealty and paid his tithe. Then he was given a doublet of scarlet, to symbolize the blood which did ooze from his knuckles, and black to signify the doom that he would risk when traveling on his horse without the company of his fellows. King Spuds then told him. "Whenever thou travels, even if thy steed go lame, we shall attend thee, for thou art one of us and we will not let any harm come to thee. Just be sure to always be on time for guild functions for we are nothing if not punctual." Then Wrenchalot made the acquaintance of Elwood of the Highlands who counseled him to take caution of the Earl of Wright who did unceasingly entreat the knights to make a pilgrimage to the ominous Dwelling on the Stone in a land far to the North which did reek of curdled milk and fetid ale and the stench from which caused many a good knight and his steed to become sickly. He also met good Squire William of Pyle known throughout the kingdom for his magnificent sword and his saucy wench who did display a mysterious and perpetual smirk upon her visage and who claimed to stroke the sword until it did work magic. Sir William also offered to interpret the meaning of the gibberish in the manuscript of Sir Bentley and assist Wrenchalot in his time of need, should he ever require aid with his ancient mare. And he met many other goodly knights, including Sir Timothy of Tools and the stealthy Sir Geoffrey, lately of a province to the east, who told him that they too had been tricked by Lucifer and had come under the very same evil spell. They told him of a special wizard in the Domain of Armagh who could provide mysterious magic to solve any predicament that their steeds might encounter. They also told sagas of the reclusive alchemist Redbeard, a mystical monk from the Northlands whose monastery was guarded by monstrous hounds with overactive bowels but who remained unfazed by the stench most foul, and who would visit the Guild of the Knights Triumphant with special sorcery taken from lifeless steeds to help the knights keep their own alive or even bring them back to the sphere of the living. And thus did Squire Wrenchalot join the Knights Triumphant and become a peer of their realm and even serve on their great council and travel with them on many journeys throughout the countryside.

And soon it came to pass that many brown chariots from the Wizard of Armagh brought various and sundry appendages to be used by Squire Wrenchalot to make Lucille once more display the radiance and grace of her youth. And the Earl of Scheib did make her roan coat glisten once again. And so did Hermes tell Lucas "Thou wert wrong. These mortals do have the gift of judgment. Mind thee how Squire Wrenchalot hath been schooled by the other knights of the Kingdom of Isoa. Lucille is again of good health and appearance. Thou, Lucas, did wager thy eternal soul, that this mortal could be forced to give up this quest to make Lucille live again and now it portends that indeed he shall. Now take leave the sacred mountain home to the gods forever, to spend eternity in the Netherworld of Hades!"

And so then did Lucas depart the gods of Mount Coventry for the infernos of Hell and he did vow to take vengeance upon good Squire Wrenchalot. "Forsooth, shall I call upon the demons of Hell to cast a fiendish spell on all such steeds of Lucille’s ilk that their sight at night shall flicker and go dim and their bones will rot or may not my name be Lucas, the Prince of Darkness!" And then did he transform himself and thus appear to Squire Wrenchalot, this time as his neighbor Goodwrench and say unto him. "We must perform special incantations to bring this steed into full health. I must withdraw her heart to work my magic on her entrails so that she might long endure." And Squire Wrenchalot, trusting his companion, agreed to extract the heart from the great beast and he did watch closely as strange rituals were performed by the Dark Angel, masquerading as Goodwrench. And when Lucille was aroused from her slumber, she did rear up and make an eerie whinny which came up from the deepest part of her bowels and her heart stopped beating. And then did the Devil reveal himself and say: "Fool, only the gods can revive these brutes and bring them back from the near-dead. Now thou must accept that this steed is perpetually lifeless." And still did Squire Wrenchalot disallow defeat.

"Thou may reckon that thee hast slain my beloved Lucille, Prince of Darkness, but I shall prevail, for I am pure of heart. Neither skeletal leprosy, nor the sounds of hell from deep within Lucille’s belly shall stop me. I have sworn a sacred oath on my ratchet that I shall ride triumphant upon this steed in jousts or I shall perish trying. Look ye, vile wretch!!" And thus did Squire Wrenchalot reach into his purse in which he kept the magic envelope given him by the lady of the Dolomite. Then he did break the seal and extract a gold card of credit from the the banking house of Shylock, just issued. "Aha! With this magic card I shall seek out more magicians, sorcerers, and wizards until finally I shall encounter one who can undo your evil spell." And many years passed and Wrenchalot did travel far and wide until at last he chanced across a wizard who once dwelled in the domain from whence Lucille was sired. And the sorcerer said, "Fear not, Good Squire Wrenchalot, for I have healed many such steeds. I shall require a goodly sum gold and silver to heal her, but thou will one day ride this mount in triumph and she shall bring thee honor. Have faith."And then did he affix his sturdy wrench upon the bolt that the Lady of the Dolomite had avowed could only be loosened by one such sorcerer. "Heed me, Squire Wrenchalot, and declare thee after me; For I am anon about to divulge to thee the sorcerer’s secret to reviving steeds afflicted with pernicious maladies. And thence he did softly impart into the ear of the squire the magic words: ‘Ightray otay ightay, Eftlay otay Oosenlay’ And Squire Wrenchalot did speak after him and, as if by magic, it did come to pass that the bolt was slackened.

And thus it was that Lucille was quickened and she was able to present herself in combat on the flat and she did leap o’er fences and chase after steeples and thus did she and Squire Wrenchalot win many jousts and tournaments and they did canter in triumph throughout the countryside to kingdoms far and wide. And they dueled the Knights of Abbington with their silly eight-sided shields in the dressage. And they vied with Lords from the neighboring shires of Austin and Healy, and the ostentatious nobles whose shields were adorned with the heads of pussycats. And always did Lucille bring her master back to his manor in triumph. And thus did Squire Wrenchalot receive the accolade of the Lords of Oakton and he did become knight Good Sir Wrenchalot. He expressed his devotion to the magnificent steed by providing only the finest oats and hay and grooming her until her coat did sparkle in the sun and raindrops did bead upon her hide, and ne’er did he use the crop or spurs. Lucille, now known throughout the kingdom of Isoa as the Wonder Horse, was acknowledged as the fairest in the land. "I have shown that a even a simple squire unschooled in sorcery, if pure in heart, will prevail against the forces of Evil," proclaimed Sir Wrenchalot. "Now that Lucille is of sound body, I shall devote myself to conserving my silver for my family’s wants. No more shall I squander my fortune on Lucille, for she is now whole and she needeth no more of my silver to hold up high her head in jousting."

"A pox upon you Sir Wrenchalot!", snarled the Prince of Darkness from deep within the sphere of Hell. Thou may think that thee hath bested me, but thou art mistaken. Ye mortals are daft when it comes to steeds and I shall verify it. I shall evoke more witchcraft to make thee pay for the anguish and agony thou hast caused me." And thus did the Prince of Darkness assume the appearance of the Wizard Redbeard and contrive to wreak havoc on Sir Wrenchalot once more.

...............To be continued.

Sir Wrenchalot
June 1999