Speaking Of Whom
Sir Renly bickers with his haunted gauntlet, then meets a mysterious woman.
Written for the 30 Days of Fantasy challenge, hosted by
. Come through the door.
The tang of salt water tiptoed on Sir Renly’s tongue, drawing him onwards. Even Snowfleet, his trusty destrier, had speeded up, as if he was eager to reach the shore. Soon enough, the trees grew smaller and further apart, and unfettered daylight flooded the scene.
The path dropped downwards, and crumbled in places. Sandblown and sparkling, it led down to a wide open vista of bright blue sea and a wide, silver beach.
“OOH!” said his right gauntlet in its metallic voice. “A CHANGE IS AS GOOD AS A REST. I HAVEN'T BEEN TO THE BEACH IN YEARS. AND YOU COULD DO WITH A BATH, SIR KNIGHT, IF YOU DON'T MIND MY SAYING SO.”
“Excuse me, madam,” Sir Renly replied, “You weren't exactly ‘a flower whose fragrance eclipses the rose's’ yourself when I met you.”
“THAT'S BECAUSE YOU SHISH-KEBABED ME WITH THAT STUPID GREAT LANCE OF YOURS,” his gauntlet replied.
“Well then,” said Sir Renly in his haughtiest tones, “you shouldn't have turned yourself into a bear, should you?”
“YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED OUT OF IT,” the gauntlet argued.
“Now really, madam,” Sir Renly replied, “I am a Knight of the Order of the High Horse. I took an oath to protect the weak from the strong and to ‘ever be ready to ride to the rescue.’ So, needless to say, when I heard that scream, I naturally assumed…”
“OLD GOODIE TWO-SHOES DIDN'T NEED TO BE RESCUED,” his gauntlet replied. “SHE NEEDED A GOOD HARD SMACK.”
“With a bear's paw?”
“MY OWN HAND COULDN'T DO THE JOB AS WELL.”
“I see,” said Sir Renly, who actually didn't, but had no desire to argue the point further. “Did she really turn into a rabbit?”
“YES,” his gauntlet replied. “FOR THE SAME REASON AS I TURNED INTO A BEAR. SHE WANTED TO RUN AWAY, AND HER OWN FEET COULDN'T DO THE JOB AS WELL.”
“I see,” said Sir Renly, whose vision, where these matters were concerned, was going from ‘completely dull blur’ to ‘a bit fuzzy at the edges on the last four lines of the poster on the metaphorical optician's wall.’
The soft sand felt somewhat slippery underfoot as Snowfleet's hooves sank into it. Sir Renly dismounted, took a good look around, and, after pegging Snowfleet's reins into the sand, disrobed. He could see his pale pink birthday suit reflected in the back of his gauntlet.
“OH! WILL YOU PUT IT AWAY!” the gauntlet wailed, with a sound like a rusty hinge.
“I can hardly be expected to take a bath fully clothed,” Sir Renly replied. “And after what you said, you have nothing… wait… you can see me? You don't have eyes, madam.”
“WELL, IT'S MORE OF AN AWARENESS, REALLY.”
“Awareness of what?”
“THAT YOUR PRIVATES ARE ON PARADE,” the gauntlet replied.
Sir Renly kicked it over.
“I CAN STILL SEE YOU, SIR BARESKIN.”
Sir Renly kicked sand over it, then ran to the sea, embarrassment heating his face. Since the tide had gone out, he had a long way to run, then wade, then wade some more, until the water finally got past his bum. He dove in, rubbing bladderwrack seaweed all over to clean himself. The water was freezing. He was just turning back when he felt something like fingers brush against his side. Grabbing the essentials, he made his way out, shivering in the sunlight.
He rooted in his pack for some clean clothes to wear, and put them on. They stuck to his wet body, but he cared less about that than whatever had brushed him in the water. He turned around and walked towards the shore to face it like a man.
“Coo-ee!” called a voice that sounded almost like a seagull’s cry.
There was something in the water. Something dark. A patch of haunted seaweed? When he considered where he'd rubbed it…
The seaweed formed a large dark bubble, then rose.
It wasn't a bubble.
As it moved upwards, Sir Renly realised that what he had taken for a bubble was in fact a woman in a pale green dress. She raised her bowed head and fixed a steely gaze upon him.
“Oh!” he said. “The Lady of the Waves, I presume. Do you have a mighty weapon for me?”
She folded her arms.
“A prophecy?”
She shook her head.
“A quest?”
She held out her hand. “You forgot this.”
“I see nothing, my lady.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Your manners, sirrah.”
Sir Renly’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“You jumped into my waters, grabbed my hair, and…”
Sir Renly blushed. “I am so sorry…”
“Sorry?” the Lady shouted. “Sorry?! You dragged that scrawny, smelly lump of meat you call a body into my waters, seized my hair, and rubbed it all over your unmentionables! And if that was not enough effrontery, you made demands of me the moment I showed my face, as if the only thing I have to do in life is run around after random men just because they showed up!”
Sir Renly’s fists curled. He moved his legs apart and bent them slightly, as if he was preparing for battle. “Now look here, madam…”
A slight hissing, tapping sound drew his attention downwards. His gauntlet was running on its fingers to the shoreline.
“IF YOU THINK THAT'S BAD, MY LADY, WAIT TILL YOU HEAR MY STORY,” it said eagerly, like a gossipy metal spider.
“Hey!” shouted Sir Renly.
The gauntlet jumped onto its cuff, splayed out, then folded its two smaller fingers and thumb, leaving a lurid V to face Sir Renly, who saw his confusion reflected in its shiny back as he ran towards it. The gauntlet tipped over and scuttled down towards the water.
Sir Renly threw himself down and caught it. He scrambled to his knees, his gauntlet’s digits writhing like a metal daddy longlegs. Grasping it with both hands at the cuff, he squeezed it as if he were trying to strangle it.
The Lady's head leant to one side. “What are you doing, sirrah?”
“Sir Renly,” he replied. “Sir Renly of the Oaken Forest. I am a knight errant.”
“Seeking your destiny?” asked the Lady.
“Indeed,” said Sir Renly, who had apparently stamped his authority onto his gauntlet. He thrust his hand inside it and wiggled his fingers, then stood and folded his arms.
His gauntlet pinched his nipple.
“Ow! You little beast!” he cried. He tried to take it off but it splayed, trapping his hand inside.
“Well, Sir Renly,” she replied as she sank back into the sea, “I do believe you've found it.”
This is a sequel to Speaking of Witch. Read the sequel, Speaking of Prophesies.
this was such a joy to read. The gauntlet is perfectly unhinged, and the Lady of the Waves scene had me grinning the whole way through. You have such a knack for mixing sharp dialogue with pure story fun.
🤣🤣🤣