Two Views of a Time

This is being written to be read by a squire or apprentice of any form of knight, king or wizard of the century to come. I myself am the squire of King Arthur, and throughout my long years of experience I have been led to believe that it is a matter of great importance that information of each age should be carried down the generations.

I must begin my report at the earliest point in my memory. My parents are no longer alive but despite everything that has happened since I can still vividly remember the days when we used to travel from Huntingdon to Canterbury and back, attempting to sell fruit and nuts to well-off villagers. Our only main possessions were a horse and a cart. I used to sit on the cart with the grapes, oranges, nuts and apples and watch the countryside trot by. The country is a lovely place to be in, as it gives out a natural feeling to everyone who passes through. The ground is not paved like here in Camelot and there are no restrictions of movement. Yet I fear a lot of the nature around us now will be gradually taken away as man becomes more advanced and blinded towards what true beauty is.

Around eleven years after my birth came the Battle of Canterbury, when some Northlanders appeared and made nuisances of themselves. This was a relatively small affair, nothing to be generally remembered - in fact I expect it won't be. But on the part of my family, it was a tragedy.

My parents were setting up a stall in the centre of town, whilst I amused myself on the cart. All of a sudden men dressed in tight chainmail and armed with bows and arrows came upon us. On impulse, I ducked under some grapes, but not in enough time to miss the sight of both my parents receiving arrows in their sides.

A few minutes later there was nothing but chaos. People scurrying about, attempting to avoid their attackers. People are very violent in this century. Hopefully this violence will just have faded away by the time you read this - you should know if this has happened yourself. There is a worry in me that this may not happen, and, once again, you will know if this has not happened as well as if it has happened. It is my hope, though, that if the worries of the world have not gone by the time that you read this, that they will soon vanish.

Please forgive the manner in which I continually stray from the tale I am trying to tell. If you remember, I was telling you of the Battle of Canterbury and the chaos which it caused. After my parents fell, I did not know anything else to do but hide. I was scared stiff, and did not dare move for hours into the battle. When I was stirred from my stiff position, it was to scratch my poor, bare feet which were being washed with sticky grape-juice which had leaked out. It was when I was suffering many hours after my mission to dry feet that I experienced my first ride on a mud trail, then on a grass track, then on a proper paved road - to Camelot.

Out of the confusion of the battle had strolled two bold knights, whose clothing I recognised as being that of the regiment of King Arthur's Table Round. The whole journey was apparently a complete mistake - or at least my trip was. They had taken the horse and cart to escape from the battle, believing it to be empty, as I was still hidden. I plucked up my courage to a sufficient level to reveal myself to them an hour later and explained what had happened to my parents. They told me they would take me to Camelot and bring me up there. So let me make it perfectly clear. Despite whatever else you might have heard, knights are most definitely true at heart.

I had never seen a castle before and was amazed just at the size of it. I loved wandering around and trying to find different areas of the enormous building which were shown on the almost equally enormous castle map. It was so fantastically grand as well. I found it hard to imagine for a long, long time that I would be living there.

Then, of course, there was King Arthur. He actually came to meet me not long after I arrived at the castle and had a long talk with me. As years went past, he came to trust me a great deal and eventually appointed me as his squire.

As you can imagine, it is very strange for a lad of the sort that I was to be brought up in Camelot, never mind eventually become King Arthur's personal squire. However, that was the way in which I grew up, and because I had a taste of both sides of this century's living standards, I suppose I must be the ideal person to make a report such as this, which I will conceal in a box and set in the Earth. I do not know what the people of your century will make of my tale, but please remember that I did love both sides of my life. It can only have been good for me to have had two views of this time.

Squire Kikpipto;
On behalf of King Arthur and the Table Round.


NOTE : As you may have gathered, I wrote this when I was...shall we say, rather young. So I can't really vouch for its quality or for it making any logical sense whatsoever! I originally published it in my own cheap and cheerful magazine 'Stareye'. For the sake of 'purity' I've stuck strictly to the original text.
You can find an e-book version of this story here.