Outside the hall where a table was set
to honor a knight who was grateful and true,
an arrogant knight on horseback shouted taunts,
recharging the true one’s past disgrace.
It had nothing to do with who he was.
The slurs cut like glass and a fight ensued.
Sir Arrogance lost and begged for mercy.
The victor had never denied it, if asked.
A girl, expertly riding a tawny mule
at a near gallop, cried to the gallant knight
that the arrogant one was a treacherous man, the worst,
and deserved to die. She asked for the monster’s head.
She foretold repaying the knight in time.
He took little account of her divination,
but her plain words caused him to make
the brazen wretch defend himself again.
The result was the same. With a clean stroke,
the true knight cut off the villain’s head.
He handed it to the girl, which made her joyful.
She was also true and kept her promise.
Much later, the true knight, Lancelot,
was ensnared and hidden away in a tower
by the Lord of the Isle of Glass. An abomination,
the royal broke what he touched, a lord of shards.
The girl pieced together things she overheard
and saw the truth darkly about Lancelot’s capture.
He was locked away, she didn’t know where.
She would find him and set him free.
It didn’t matter that the Lord of Glass was her brother.
The girl rode her mule for weeks, wandering
by chance and by feel until she saw a tower
rising alone on the coast, Lancelot’s prison.
She found a way to spring him and bear him
on her mule to a safe retreat, where her care
brought him back to strength. Lancelot dispatched
the Lord of Glass as he had Sir Arrogance.
The girl and the knight had an understanding,
a feel for what was true within the other,
what made sense beyond a quid pro quo.
Lancelot believed the girl’s prophetic vow:
Dear sir, what you do right now,
later, I will do for you.
Copyright © 2025 by Sam S. Dodd