The Knight With No Name: The Might of Music

Once upon a time, there lived a stout and stalwart knight of one and twenty with a heart of gold. He went to find his fortune in the dark, dark world. One day, when he was riding through a bazaar of Azerluke, he saw an old man with a hunch on his back, trying to sell an ancient-looking scroll with a feather pen studded with small stones that sparkled like diamonds. The knight jumped of his horse and strode in front the man. The man looked up and the knight said, “old sir, may I ask why are you selling this woebegone scroll?” the hunchbacked man smiled and said, “you are a young and innocent knight, you won’t understand. There are evils in this world, that your sword wouldn’t match.” The knight didn’t understand what the old man was trying to say and asked the man to speak in a simple tongue. The man said, “This scroll has such magical power, that you wouldn’t even dream of. The power of this scroll can beat the most powerful and intelligent person in the world.” The knight, even though he wasn’t a man interested in gaining power, felt a strange desire to acquire the scroll. The hunch backed man told the youth, “my dear fellow, I am more than happy to sell this scroll. I am a philosopher; I have no desire of becoming powerful.

But remember-

“the scroll has power,

So much that…...

It will give you wealth

Beyond compare.

It will give you strength,

To beat all men.

It would give you the

Life of a king,

Not a king of a hidden kingdom,

But the king of the world.

It will give you brain,

It will give you brawn.

It will give you everything you want,

Even the right to deploy and destroy.

But one thing it can’t give you,

And that is joy.”

And then the old man gave the scroll and the pen to the knight and went whistling away. The knight shouted, “sir! How do I use it? Aren’t you taking your fee?” the man just smiled and waved to him. So, the knight continued his journey, puzzled at the old philosopher and the strange scroll. He reached an old, ruined castle in the middle of a vast ground that hadn’t a sign of life growing. As he got near to the castle, he heard an enticing voice coming from the ruins. He made his way through the debris and reached the heart of the castle. Sitting on a colossal rock was a boy who looked like he was of 13 years. He was playing a violin and singing.

This was his song-

“I will tell my story,

It is but of sadness.

Joy and glee

Are something I never knew.

Misery has always

Been my companion.

The bird of euphoria

Has flew.

Now I am drifting

Along a stream,

Neglected,

Alone

Not kith or kin

With me."

The knight was a bit stupefied by the boy’s voice and the sadness with which he sang. The simplicity of the song touched his heart. He crept towards the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. The boy leapt up and said, “sir I beg your pardon! I hope that I didn’t disturb you with my awful singing.” The knight chuckled and said, “my dearest boy, not at all! You beguiled me with your enchanting voice and playing. May I know your name and where do you live?”

the boy replied, “my name is Orlando and I live here, in these ruins.” “why, you wouldn’t be older than 14! Don’t you have a parent or a guardian with whom you would live with?” said the knight, astonished. The boy shook his head mournfully and said, “alas sir, no. I lived in the village of Revonisc, in a cozy, little house alone with my sister, but the villagers drove me out.” “why?” “because I played a note which is forbidden in the villager’s religion but is really essential in some of my favorite songs to play. I don’t know why the note is forbidden. I was never told. When I asked when they were about to kick me out, the head of the village said, “You scurvy wag, you dare ask why! Well, I won’t tell you. You will live your life repenting for the unforgivable mistake you made.”

The knight swelled with anger and said, “that might be the rashest thing a head could do! A head should always be reasonable and just. He should tell why he is punishing someone. I will go and talk to these villagers and their head.” The knight quickly jumped on his horse (whose name was Zyla, who was given to him by his father when he was a boy of 16 and Zyla was 2 months old) and rode off to Revonisc. He entered a house and asked the people there about their head’s house and about Orlando. The woman in the house said, “ the head lives at the foot of that hill, in a blue cottage. I won’t tell you anything about that ‘boy’, because talking about him is an offence in our village.” The knight thanked the women and rode off to the head’s house. He knocked at the door and a woman with a sour looking face answered. She took our knight to the head of the village. He was a colossal man, with a potbelly and piggy eyes. He boomed in his pompous voice, “well well, who do we have here? A knight! What can I do for yer, mister?” the knight said, “ good sir, I am here to talk to someone who I recently met. I believe he is from your good village. His name is Orlando.”

As soon as the headman heard the name, his chest swelled up till he resembled a bullfrog. He boomed, “I had told that son of a biscuit eater to leave me village and go very far away. He is an offender of the Gods. He should be flogged.” The man’s language suggested that he might have been a buccaneer in his past or had some friends who were one. The knight frowned and asked, “It doesn’t seem that the boy could be vile and irreligious. On the contrary, he seemed to have a beautiful upbringing and was very polite. What has he done that offended your God?” The headman said, “he played a note,” as if that explained everything. The knight stood perplexed, so the headman explained, “looky here mister, what I am telling ye is a big secret of this village. It is so confidential that the people of this village also don’t know. But ye seem a chivalrous man. I will tell ye. That son of a biscuit eater plays a note.

Now this note is a bad note. The Gods didn’t like it and its written in our Holy Book that the note is unholy. Yet a swashbuckler to play it.” Our knight laughed and said, “my good sir, such a small reason to take such a big action, that to against a little child! I am amazed at your rashness. The Gods always said that children are avatars of themselves. No note is unholy or bad. Music is said to be the language of this universe . it can name the unnamable and speak to the unknowable. If God is the universe, then why would he be angry with a sound of his own language?” the man grumble and answered, “ I don’t know about all this bilge. I just follow what’s written in the Book.” The knight knew that he couldn’t get any sense in the affected head man that day. He bade farewell and went away. The knight reached the ruins and sat near Orlando, pondering over something. Orlando asked timidly, “sir knight, I am awfully sorry to disturb, but may I ask what you are thinking of?” The Knight replied, “what else, my dear boy, but thinking about how to talk some sense into that pompous headman of your village. There must be some way to make him understand! Aha! That must be it.”

The boy, shocked by the Knight’s exclamation asked, “ sir, did you get an idea to convince the head? May I know about it?” the Knight grinned and said, “ no need to worry your little self. By tomorrow, you will be at your little cottage, rejoicing with your sister!” saying this, the knight rode off in the darkness of the night.

The next day, the knight reached the headman’s house early in the morning. He rapped the door and a bleary eye peeped at him. Then it widened and the door was opened. The headman rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes and said, “Begad! It’s you again. What is your problem this time, sir Knight?” the knight smiled and said, “my dear man, I know what will change your mind about Orlando.” The head man snorted and said, “nothing will change my mind about that scurvy dog, not even what a brave knight says,” but the Knight just smiled. He pulled out his scroll and the pen. He dipped the pen in some ink and wrote something on the scroll. Then he mysteriously jumped on Zyla and rode off. The old sea dog was surprised and shouted, “blow me down! What did ye have to say, eh?” but the Knight had ridden off. That day was a kind of a festival day for the village. They were all supposed to gather at the Village Tree for a celebration. The Village Tree, or Revonisc’s Amour Propre was a tree with a dress circle built around it.

The elders of the village sat on this dress circle along with the headman, while the other villagers sat on the ground. When it was the twentieth hour of the day was about to strike, all the villagers started gathering at The Village Tree. The Knight was standing near the tree. As the twentieth hour struck, the headman reached the tree. He said, “Ahoy, me hearties! Let the festivities begin!” Then he noticed the Knight standing in the shadows and boomed, “Sink me! If it isn’t the vanishing knight. What may I do for ye, sir? Are you here for convincing me to allow that lily-livered boy back in this village, yer wasting your time. I give no quarter for scurvy dogs.” The knight just grimaced and said, “My dear man, there is no need to insult a mere child, even if he has committed a heinous crime in your eyes. I just wanted to, if it is with your approval, address something to the kind people of this village. May I?” The headman grunted and shook his head. The Knight began, “Dear villagers, I have a little thing to tell you. It’s about a beautiful thing that expresses the inexpressible. Something that opens the secret to life, something that is the soul of this universe and makes us feel unbeatable. This little thing is one which each living creature has heard, and it fills them with relief from grief and pain, bringing all the joy with it. This something is called music.” The villagers were startled as a beautiful melody started to fill the air.

As it played, the villagers became bewitched and quietly listened to it. the melody had given them what they couldn’t reach, made them understand what they couldn’t fathom and made them see the things they couldn’t see before. Even the headman listened as if in a trance. When the music ended, the villagers started chanting and asking , “We want to hear more! Who was playing the music?” The Knight moved aside and revealed Orlando. The headman snarled and tried to speak, but the villagers all started speaking together, “We want the boy to stay and play in this village! Who cares about what offence he committed! He is a gift from heaven for us. Let him stay chief!” the headman sighed and said, “If ye all insist, I will let him be. But ye should know, yer offending the gods.” The villagers all shrugged. One woman piped up, “I think that I speak for the whole village when I say that the gods will be happy with us if we let the boy be. He is clearly a gift from them to our village and they will forgive him for all he did wrong.” The villagers shook their heads in approval. As Orlando and they rejoiced, the Knight vanished into the cover of darkness.