The Legend of Jenny's Angels

The contents of his knapsack confirmed two apples and the last of the travel cakes remaining.  The cook at Walmer Castle made him special cakes for his journeys.  They consisted of flour, dried fruits, nuts, honey, and pig fat to glue it all together.  They were, in fact, very tasty and nutritious.  He shared both with Sultan.

The ambiance on the river was pleasantly relaxing.  He loved the oceans and hoped one day to be assigned to His Majesty’s Navy; but for resting and munching, a river or lake was just fine.  The twosome ate the remainder of the food, and rested in the copse that afforded cool shelter from wandering eyes.  Ian would’ve liked to linger a while, but duty nagged at his conscience even while on holiday.  In this case, he was anxious to get home.

Sultan was through with his bag of oats, throwing his head around trying to rid himself of it.  Ian gave him the last apple, and while he munched it, Ian checked out his hooves, patted his face, and slapped his arched neck.  He murmured the usual platitudes and prepared to remount.  The magnificent steed stood 18 hands tall, and with the saddle, which added another foot, he needed to find a rock from which to mount.  The mighty black, possessed of a high-spirited, impatient nature, followed Ian as docile as a lamb to a nearby stump.  Horse and man were close in mutual admiration, and a fierce team in combat or at the games.

Sultan whinnied and bobbed his great head, shaking his harness violently as they neared the lake.  Ian followed his gaze.  “There, there!  What is it now?  You’re almost home, and I promise you a good long bath and rub-down.”  His breath caught in disbelief.

From the depths of the lake, rising like the phoenix from the ashes to rebirth in another life, there appeared a scantily clad woman.  Her beauty was uncommon by any standards; obvious even in her current condition, or because of it.  She was very nearly naked.  What had he encountered here; a secret tryst?  Where was her lover?  Was he going to have to fight a duel because he just happened upon the scene?  And, people think the life of a Knight is all glory!

He watched her walk ashore and pick up some things from the water’s edge and cover herself in strange clothing.  Sultan moved out of the copse and they intercepted the woman before she was totally clad.  She turned to face them, clutching her robe in an attempt to hide her nakedness.  She opened her mouth and was about to speak when Sultan reared.  Ian’s left stirrup-cover caught her right temple, sending her sprawling to the ground.

Ian dismounted and went to see what damage had been done.  She lay unmoving on the grassy bank, knocked unconscious by the temporal blow.  She was almost too beautiful to touch.  He marveled at the purity of her skin.  Her hands were callous-free and there were no whip marks on her back or legs.  No serving-wench this one.  If he could guess, he’d say her status to be that of a middle-class lady or perhaps even a titled citizen caught in a compromising position.  When he finished tending to the wound on her temple, he noticed the blisters on her feet, therefore dismissing the theory of a tryst.  Had she escaped from a slave caravan, or been thrown-out by an irate husband?  What had he gotten himself into?  No matter, it was his sacred pledge to help a maiden in distress.  Not only was he a Knight, but also an angel, and he answered to God, the ultimate King.

He raised his eyes to the sky and whispered, “Is this my next assignment?”

Ian looked up and down the riverbank for another person.  There was no one, fortunately; or he might find himself confronted with the blade of a mad man’s sword.  A person in his position had to be careful.  Actually, everyone needed to be wary these days, the government being what it was with a guillotine-happy monarch at the helm.