Written by Rebekah Postupak
They were a fractious bunch, those knights, always debilitating themselves in spontaneous jousts, or losing their estates and/or honor in impassioned quests on behalf of whatever dark-eyed maiden had most recently ensorcelled them.
“Do something,” Arthur begged me. The king, fresh-faced and vainglorious, had credited himself for his knights’ enthusiasm right up until the day their prodigal expeditions emptied his second-to-last treasure chest.
My job was kingdom-building, not nannying. Arthur, however, ignored my protests and hounded me with the singlemindedness that typified his court.
“I don’t want them turned into newts,” he assured me. He fiddled with his sword, a clumsy thing some lake-girl in décolletage had foisted on him. “I just want them somewhat thriftier.”
Fine. Arthur thought his knights exemplary? The Knights Exemplar they would be. One hundred-fifty time-out chairs I fashioned, and a stern, matching round table.
Not for nothing was I called the greatest wizard ever.
Inspired by this week’s Monday Mixer, using eight of nine words listed (overachiever attempt!) within the 150 word count requirement: