Under the Pentecost moon, round and lovely as a baby’s cheek, they crept together across the deserted stable yard at the back of the castle.
‘Wait for me in here,’ said Sir Humphrey, opening the door to one of the stables.
Elaine went inside. Moments later, she screamed and came running back out.
‘What is that monster?’ she said.
‘What monster? Oh, sorry. I’m so accustomed to her now, I forgot to warn you. She’s not a monster. She’s totally harmless. She’s an elephant.’
‘An elephant? What’s an elephant?’
Humphrey gestured towards the stall.
‘Where did you find such a creature?’ said Elaine.
‘She’s from Africa.’
‘Africa!’ Elaine’s face brightened. ‘You’ve been to Africa? How wonderful. What’s it like? Is it full of monsters? Will you tell me all about it on the ride?’
Humphrey shook his head, a little abashed. ‘I’ve never been. I bought the elephant from a travelling circus that was visiting the castle.’
‘Oh. But why did you buy an elephant?’
Humphrey smiled. ‘You’ll see. Don’t worry. She’s very friendly. Her name’s Jemima. If you want her eternal loyalty, grab a carrot from that pile of vegetables and feed it to her. They’re her favourites. Hold it out on your palm and she’ll take it with her trunk.’
‘Her trunk?’
‘That long nose thing.’
‘She eats with her nose?’
‘Not exactly. Try it and see. Anyway, I shouldn’t be too long. I just need to find my squire and get some things together for the trip. If anyone asks …’
‘Oh, believe me, I’ve come up with a lie about what I’m doing in a stable before. I’ll be fine.’
Elaine went back inside and shut the door behind her.
‘Hello, Jemima,’ Humphrey heard her say.
He grinned to himself and then went out past the stable block to the old barn to find Conrad. He had been moved there when he got too tall for the main castle, and although he complained continuously about the cold, Humphrey reckoned that he enjoyed the privacy. He was free to drink as much ale and smoke as much hemp as he wanted, and no doubt he would sneak in those local girls who were curious about being with a larger man. With Humphrey never leaving the castle, there was very little squiring on the agenda. It seemed like a decent enough life to Humphrey. It never occurred to him that Conrad might actually want to work.
He opened the barn door without knocking. Conrad was sprawled face down on the huge pallet that served as his bed, alone, mercifully, and wearing his (very) long underwear, also mercifully – Humphrey had no desire to see his squire’s hirsute backside. The floor of the barn was strewn with discarded clothes, empty bottles, half-eaten plates of food, a couple of books, at least one of which had tawdry illustrations, bits of armour, and various other forms of detritus that Humphrey would rather not identify.
‘Time to get up!’ said Humphrey.
Conrad opened his eyes, closed them again, and groaned. ‘It’s the middle of the night,’ he said.
‘I know,’ said Humphrey.
‘Go away,’ said Conrad, mostly into his pillow.
‘No. We’re going on a quest.’
‘Not funny.’
‘Really.’
After a moment or two, Conrad turned his head towards Humphrey, revealing the volcanic spots that covered his face.
‘Really really?’
‘Yep.’
‘We don’t go on quests. You don’t go on quests.’
‘We do now.’
Conrad sat up. ‘It’s Pentecost. I was just out with the squires. How can we … We’re going on the Pentecost quest?’
‘Get my armour and pack us both a bag.’
‘Did everybody else die?’
‘Of course everybody didn’t die, Conrad.’
‘Well then, why are they letting you go?’
‘They aren’t letting me. They don’t know.’
‘But –’
Humphrey sighed and leaned against the barn door.
‘We were having the feast as usual,’ he said. ‘By which I mean getting hungry, waiting for the quest. This king type – not a real king, I hasten to add – turns up, looking for his wife who’s gone missing. Everybody assumes that’s the Pentecost quest, obviously …’
‘Who got it?’
‘Dorian.’
Conrad pulled a face. Then he said, ‘Silas will be pleased, at least.’ Silas was Sir Dorian’s squire, and was a lot more popular than his master. ‘If the quest goes well, he might be made a knight himself. Lucky bastard.’
‘Yes, well, he can forget about that,’ said Humphrey. ‘Because I don’t think it’s the real Pentecost quest. I was still in the hall after everyone else had gone …’ Humphrey left out the part about sitting at the Round Table. ‘And a damsel comes in.’
‘In distress.’
Conrad took this in. ‘Damsel trumps king,’ he said. ‘Always.’
‘Exactly.’
‘And you didn’t go and get Arthur? Or one of the real knights?’
Humphrey bristled. ‘No, I thought we could handle this one by ourselves.’
‘But we’ve never been on a quest.’
‘I’ve been on plenty of quests.’
‘I’ve never been on a quest.’ There was a hint of nervousness in Conrad’s voice.
‘Why does that matter?’ said Humphrey. ‘Don’t you want to go on a quest?’
‘Of course I do,’ said Conrad. ‘Just … why, suddenly, this one?’
‘She asked me to help her. I’ve taken vows, Conrad.’
‘That’s never mattered to you before.’ Conrad peered at his master’s face. ‘Is she pretty?’ he said.
‘She’s getting married, Conrad, that’s the whole point of the quest. We’ll need my armour, a tent, no, two tents, saddlebags …’
Conrad grinned. His teeth were a lot bigger than Edwin’s. ‘Very pretty?’ he said.
Humphrey picked up an empty saddlebag and chucked it at his squire. ‘Don’t forget my sword,’ he said.