The Golden Knight of The Sun

As the Sun-King was making his Summer procession across the sky, looking down, admiringly, on all his many green and plentiful kingdoms, he came across one kingdom which was not green at all but white and barren and cold.

There was snow upon the roof-tops and ice covering all the streets; the fields were empty and the trees in the orchards, bare.

“But how could this be?”, he thought, “How can there be snow and ice in the middle of Summer?”.

He went down and looked in all the windows of all the houses for an answer and in every house he saw poor people huddled together and shivering; cold and hungry with gloomy looks upon their faces and their children were crying.

But then the Sun King came to a big, lavish house which looked like a royal palace
and, peering in through one of the windows, he saw the bedroom of three little girls who were fast asleep in a golden bed; each wearing silken pyjamas with a little crown upon her head.

He turned himself into a long sunshaft like a rod of glittering gold and, poking his head between velvet bedroom curtains, touched their sleeping faces and hair with his light.

“Wake up, little princess’s”, he said, cheerily, “It is morning and your people need you”.

But the three little girls would not wake up although they seemed to feel the warmth of the sun upon their faces because each of them smiled broadly but they didn’t open their eyes or yawn or stretch but kept on sleeping.

“Oh dear”, said the Sun King to a little brightly coloured Blue tit who was perched nearby on the twig of a snow-covered tree, “Whatever is the matter with those three little girls. Why won’t they wake up and why is this country all covered in snow?”.

The little blue tit looked sad, turning its eyes downward to look at a patch of frosty ground and then, with a sigh, explained, “It won’t do you any good trying to wake them with sunbeams, your majesty. You see, a wretched old witch, whose house that is, cast an evil spell on them and they won’t wake up again; not ever; until someone breaks the spell and as long as they sleep this kingdom will forever be in winter”.

The Sun King was appalled.

“Why on Earth would anyone do such a terrible thing?”, he asked, his voice that usually sounded like the tinkling strings of a harp becoming loud and discordant with anger.

But then the blue tit explained that the three little girls were the witch’s sisters.

“They were four little girls once; all of them possessing great magical power; one called Blossom, the other called Flower and the third called Bloom but the witch, the fourth sister whose name is Wither and die, was jealous of her sisters’ power to make things bloom and grow, for whatever she touched would only wither and die and so she tricked them into eating three slices of a magical golden pear which put them to sleep and they have been asleep ever since and will remain asleep forever; never getting any older. Even the three little rosebuds in the vase by their window stay rosebuds forever and will never bloom into roses”.

Then the blue-tit pointed with the tip of his wing towards the vase and the Sun King saw the three rosebuds with their bright pink petals curled up tightly.

“Oh this is outrageous!”, said the Sun King, blazing angrily,“Something must be done about it”.

And the Sun King asked the little blue-tit if he would fly and get help.

“Find a suitable champion”, he said, “And I will do the rest”.

So the little blue-tit flew off into a neighbouring kingdom in search of someone who might help.

He flew first to the royal palace of that kingdom and, perching on an arm of the throne, told the king about the three little girls but the king didn’t seem very interested.

“Three little girls under a witch’s spell?”, he told the blue tit, “Go away and don’t bother me with such silly, trivial matters. I’m a king and I’m far too busy with my kingly duties for such things”.

The blue-tit was very saddened by the kings attitude but it was not the type of bird to give in easily and so it flew off again, this time to the large manor house of a high lord Mayor and, perched upon his office desk, told him the sad tale of the three little girls under the witch’s spell.

But the Mayor, just like the king before, didn’t seem to want to help, turning up his nose at the little bird.

“Waste my time with little girls and witch’s and spells?”, he said with annoyance, “Can’t you see that I’m an important man with lots of important things to do and decisions to make?”.

And to illustrate his point, the mayor made a decision about whether he should have honey or lemon or milk and sugar in his tea and the blue-tit, shaking his head sadly, flew off out of the window of the Mayors mansion to look for someone else who might help.

The little bird flew all up and down the country, talking to butchers and bakers and candlestick makers; cobblers and carpenters; locksmiths and tailors but , whoever he talked to, no one seemed interested in helping him.

Until, finally, perching in the drooping branches of an old willow tree and using its veil of green foliage to hide behind, he started to sob.

But as the blue-tit was weeping into its brightly coloured wings, suddenly, the bird heard someone coming towards him; someone who was playing a lute and singing a happy song.

“Summertime is a wonderful time. It’s a wonderful time of year”, they were singing, “When the sky is blue and the Earth is green and the world is full of cheer”.

Sticking his head out through a curtain of willow leaves the blue-tit then saw that the voice belonged to a wandering minstrel who, for want of a better audience, was serenading a herd of cows in a field.

“He looks like a handsome, bright young fellow”, thought the blue-tit, a smile suddenly returning to his face, “Perhaps he’ll help rescue the three little girls”.

And when he asked the Minstrel, whose name was Gideon, the young man seemed more than eager to help.

“But I am no fighter”, he said, “I don’t even have a suit of armour or a sword or a horse to ride upon”.

“Oh, don’t worry about that”, said the blue-tit, “The Sun-King assured me that he would take care of everything”.

And, no sooner had the blue-tit spoken these words when, out of the sky overhead, the Sun-King reached down a long golden sunbeam and touched the minstrel upon his feathered cap and, suddenly, to the minstrels astonishment, he saw that he was dressed from head to toe in a bright golden suit of armour.

“It is the bright golden armour forged in the furnaces of the sun”, said the Sun King, calling down to him from the sky.

“It certainly is fetching”, said the minstrel, admiring the golden armour; still very amazed and stunned by it all.

But then the Sun-King reached down again, this time strumming the strings upon the minstrels lute with his long golden fingers and, as he did so, the long neck of the lute suddenly became a golden sword and its wide, round body, a golden shield.

“And how do you like those?”, asked the Sun-King, “My own golden sword and shield with all the powers of the sun inside them”.

“Yes, these will do very nicely, your majesty”, replied Gideon, pretending to use the sword to hack at the head of a ferocious dragon.

But then the Minstrel asked about a horse.

“Every Knight must have one”, he said, “It says so in all the storybooks”.

The Sun King nodded his large, round golden head in agreement and then, looking round about for something suitable to make into a horse , he saw a cockerel standing proudly, perched upon a fence and, reaching out and touching it upon the tail feathers, in a glimmer, he had transformed the cockerel into a white stallion with a long, flowing mane; a saddle and bridle of gold and a plume of bright cockerel feathers decorating its head.

“There”, said the Sun-King, “Now you have everything you need to be a proper knight”.

But there was still the matter of a title. A commoner could not be a knight and so, as he kneeled down, the Sun-King touched him upon each of his shoulders and said, “I hear by dub thee Sir Gideon, the Golden Knight of the Sun”.

Unfortunately for the Golden Knight, a dark cloud that was lurking nearby and was a good friend of the evil witch had seen everything and off, as fast as a flock of ravens, it flew to the witch’s house to tell her about the sun king’s new champion.

And throwing her head back and cackling evilly, the wicked old hag turned to her iron cauldron and, stirring it with a long handled spoon, she said,

“Oh ye powers of darkness and evil. Make me a champion to defend me against this golden knight. Make him as black as a night without moon or stars and as fierce as thunderstorm and hail”.

And, suddenly, just as Gideon was climbing into the golden saddle of his white stallion, his own shadow and the shadow of his horse turned against him, becoming a knight in a black suit of armour with a blade and shield of darkness and riding on a jet black horse.

“Surrender, Golden Knight”, bellowed the knight in black, his dark steed rearing up onto its hind legs and whinnying angrily, “Or prepare to be vanquished by the might of darkness”.

Raising up his golden sword, Gideon shook his head, “By all that is noble and true”, he swore, “I shall never surrender to you”.

Then, riding towards each other, the swords and shields of the two knights clashed together and they began to fight.

But the dark knight was strong; far stronger than the golden knight had expected and poor Gideon wondered if he was really up to the challenge of defeating such a fearsome opponent.

“What shall I do?”, he called out to the Sun-King who was watching from high overhead, “He is too strong for me”.

“Don’t forget”, said the Sun-King, “That you hold the power of the sun in your two hands. Use that power”.

Hearing this, suddenly, an idea like a ray of light penetrated Gideons fear clouded mind and then, raising up his golden shield, he made the shield glow as brightly as the sun; so brightly in fact that his dark opponent was completely blinded by it.

Then, while the dark knight was struggling to shield his eyes, the Golden knight seized his opportunity and, raising his sword drove its point right through the dark knights breast plate and into his evil heart and then, the dark knight crying out in fear and pain, both he and his black horse
turned back into ordinary shadows.

“Bravo!”, said the little blue-tit, flying down and resting upon the golden knights shoulder, “You are a worthy champion to be sure”.

“I agree”, said the Sun-King, a golden smile beaming broadly across his large round face.

But there was no time to waste on self-congratulation, not now that the evil Witch was aware of their plans and so The Golden knight rode off as fast as he was able in the direction of the Witch’s land of ice and snow to rescue the three little girls.

“Dark Knight, bah!”, said the Witch, looking down into her cauldron and seeing, in the swirling waters, her evil champion defeated, “He was nothing but an old rusty tin can”.

Then, stirring the pot again, the witch whipped the waters into a bubbling, glowing magical frenzy.

“What I need is a monster; something really gigantic which will make that knight quiver in his golden boots”, she thought to herself.

Then addressing, once more, those dark forces whose interests she served, she called out,
“ Oh, ye powers of darkness; ye forces of evil. Make me into the most monstrous of all monsters; the most demonic of all demons; taller than a giant; more ferocious than a dragon; uglier than a troll and more terrifying, even, than a medusa. Make me into a Magmarok”.

A geyser of flame burst upwards from the cauldron that was over fifty foot high and the earth under the witch’s feet began to tremble violently making her cauldron rock back and forth; the skies opened sharp, crooked jaws of lightning and roared with thunder and, even though she was half monster herself, still the old witch shook with fear.

Then, suddenly, under her long black robes; like a balloon being inflated, the witch started to grow.

She grew until her robes were too small to contain her and until they ripped apart as she burst out of them completely and then she kept on growing, upwards and outwards, all the while mutating into that hideous creature called a Magmarok.

She grew so tall that, soon, even the room she was in couldn’t contain her and her now scaly, hissing, blue and horn covered head went bursting through the ceiling and yet, still, she kept on growing.

Eventually, she grew so tall and wide that the roof of her mansion house fitted her like a hat and then, moving a forest of ginormous feet she began to crawl forwards through her bleak and withered woodland; the earth shaking with every one of her footsteps; no longer a witch any more but a magmarok; a thing more horrible than any creature that has ever been gazed upon.

And yet the Golden knight was forced to gaze upon it because, at that very moment, it was lumbering towards him; a thing with twenty two heads and sixty six glaring eyes; one hundred drooling mouths; forty eight ears, twenty noses; two hundred arms, armed with spears and clubs and swords and axes and three hundred feet but no heart and no compunction against crushing poor Gideon into the ground.

The feeling that went through the Golden knight at that moment was beyond terror and yet, nobly, he didn’t turn and flee as most would do but stood his ground.

All the while he heard a cacophony of taunting voices from the many mouths of the Magmarok,

“Ha, ha, ha, puny knight”, they jeered and cackled, “Did you really think that you could defeat the all-conquering powers of darkness. We will crush your bones and swallow you whole”.

“Oh Sun-King”, the knight pleaded, the colour running from his cheeks and his golden armour rattling as he started to shake, “Please tell me what am I to do now? How does one, even with your power, fight a thing like that?”.

But the Sun-King did not seem worried.

“You will soon see”, the Sun-King replied, “Pluck up your courage, Golden Knight and trust me”.

And so the Golden knight, as the laughing; hideous, terrifying Magmarok drew closer, tightened his grip upon his horses reigns; gritted his teeth and stood firm.

But then, just as the Magmarok was coming close enough for him to smell the stinking, putrid breath of its one hundred grinning mouths, Gideon’s horse which, as you will recall, had been a cockerel perched upon a fence, opened its mouth wide, not to whinney like an ordinary horse but to crow and when the Magmarok heard the sound of a cockerel crowing, its sixty six glaring eyes widened and filled with terror and its one hundred mouths cried with panic and then, desperate to escape, part of the Magmarok ran East; part of it ran west, another part ran south and another part, north and such was the strength of each part that the creature ripped itself into four bloody pieces and died.

“Inspite of its enormous size”, explained the Sun-King, as the Golden Knight was sighing with relief, “The Magmarok cannot bear the sound of the cock’s crow”.

But now, out of the ruins of the witch’s house; the Golden knight saw the three little girls emerge; laughing and smiling and, as they did so, he also noticed a change taking place in the forest round about him.

Everywhere, the snow and ice was melting; green leaves and blossoms were growing on all the trees; lush, green grass was sprouting and bluebells and buttercups, daisies and daffodils, bursting from the grassy earth as Spring and Summer returned.

And all over the Kingdom, the Sun-King looked down and saw happy smiling people come out of their houses, smiling and cheering and when word spread of how the golden knight had defeated the evil witch, the people of the kingdom made him their hero.

But then the Golden knight took off his armour, putting his feathered minstrels cap back on his head his sword and shield turned back into a lute and, strumming it, he began to sing, joyously,

“Summertime is a wonderful time. It’s a wonderful time of year. When the sky is blue and the Earth is green and the world is full of cheer”.