Sir Rupert Wragg entered the room just as King Arthur spat out a bit of chicken bone. “Bloody incompetent kitchen staff, are they trying to choke me?”
Sir Rupert bowed. “Good morning, Your Majesty. We all have your best interests at heart. None of us wish to see you choke, Sire. I will have the kitchen maid flogged ere noon is upon us. She will learn to fillet chicken or I will have her filleted herself!”
The king muttered a bit but made no coherent reply. Sir Rupert was not a little alarmed. He’d had barely 24 hours notice that the king was to stay overnight at Cruxton Castle en route back to Camelot, and Sir Rupert not unnaturally wished to impress the king, not choke him. He changed the subject.
“Did you pass a peaceful night, my Liege?”
The King brightened, to Rupert’s relief. “Ah, yes, your chambermaid is to be complimented on her abilities!”
On both sides of the sheets, thought Rupert, but he was glad that Dorothy had pleased the king. She was worth her weight in gold, that one.
“Mind you, my dreams disturbed me.”
“Of what did you dream, Sire?”
“I dreamed of St Barbaria.”
“Don’t we all, Sire?”
The story of the virtuous St Barbaria and her dreadful suffering at the hands of the evil emperor Arborius was well known throughout Christendom. Rupert sighed. That was one crucifixion he’d have loved to witness.
“I dreamed that she was hanging from her cross.”
Rupert smiled. Yes, indeed. He’d had that dream.
The king continued. “She called out to me! ‘Arthur! Arthur!’ she called, ‘Is there one who is virtuous and courageous enough to come to my aid? Is there one who can draw out these dreadful nails and release my spirit to soar unto the heavens? If you send me such a man, if such a man there be, I will shower great blessings and riches upon your kingdom! Your women will be the most beautiful, your cattle the fattest, your crops the richest in the world! And I will strengthen the arms of your fighting men, that they be indefatigable in battle, and victory shall always be yours!’”
“But, Sire, Barbaria was crucified many ages ago! Does she yet live upon her cross?”
“I know not, Sir Rupert. Merlin will know.” He clapped his hands. A serving lad hurried into the room. He nearly clouted his forehead on the ground, bowing so low to the king.
“Bring me Merlin the Sorcerer!” commanded His Majesty.
“At once, Sire!” The boy scuttled out.
“She truly lived in your dream, though, Sire?”
A look of utter contentment came over Arthur’s face. “Oh, yes, Sir Rupert, she was more than alive, she looked transcendentally beautiful there on her cross. If you could but see what I saw last night, you would be the happiest man in the world. Such perfection, stretched out there for all to see. Golden breasts, and dark, tumescent nipples. Satin hair cascading around her slim body, her eyes of innocent purity beseeching my aid, her slender limbs marred only by those four cruel nails!”
“So, she was…naked?” Rupert was entranced, and completely forgot the ‘sire’.
The king either overlooked the transgression, or was unconscious of it. “Oh, yes, Sir Rupert. Gloriously, splendidly, unforgettably naked. “
“Arborius must have been quite a cad, to crucify a woman like that, Sire.” commented Rupert.
“Indeed he must. May he rot in hell.”
Merlin bustled in.
“His Majesty has been visited by St Barbaria in his dreams.” Rupert filled Merlin in on the basic facts, while the king gazed out of the window. “So what we want to know, Merlin, is what happened to Barbaria’s body after she was crucified?”
“No one knows.” Merlin stated, succinctly. “A great fog descended over the land, and, when it rose, there was no sign of Barbaria or her cross. It is just as the king dreamed, it is said that he that finds her and draws out her nails will bring great blessings upon himself and all his kinsmen for many generations.”
“Really? I’d never heard that,” mused Sir Rupert.
“Oh yes, it is in one of the Holy Scriptures carried by Brother Paul.”
Once again, the king clapped his hands. In scuttled the serving boy, once again he nearly head-butted the floor.
“Fetch me Brother Paul! Ask him to bring the scriptures concerning St Barbaria!”
The poor lad scampered off again, no doubt wondering how many more errands he had to face this morning. In due course he returned, labouring under the weight of an enormous tome, preceded by a serious faced monk.
The monk made deferment to the king, then bade the boy set the book down on a table. Relieved, the lad disappeared to await his next summons.
Brother Paul found his passage, and cleared his throat.
“And it came to pass, that Arborius the Emperor commanded that all should worship Caesar, and himself as the living representative of Caesar. And many fell down on their knees, for great was their dread of Arborius, and they praised him, saying, ‘O Arborius, thou art truly a god among men, have mercy upon us, we beseech thee!’
“But there was one, and her name was Barbaria. And she was very beautiful. Many hearts were rent in twain on account of her.
“And she spake unto Arborius, saying, ‘Verily, thou art not a god, thou art but a man, and not much of a man at that. See? Thou runnest to fat. And thou hast a very silly hat upon thy head. And those disgusting things that thou smoketh. Yuk. Behold, what with that and the smell of Seagrams thou art revolting. I shall not bow the knee, nor shall I worship thee, for I worship the one True God, and unto him only shall I bow the knee. So bugger thou off.’
“And lo, Arborius got very mad indeed. For his wrath was kindled, and his countenance became as a cloud of thunder. “Knowest thou that I have the power to whip thee, and burn thee, and splug thee on a gillikin spike? I even have the power to crucify thee!”
“’Go ahead,’ she replied unto him, ‘for I fear no man, least of all thee.”
“So it was that he had her whipped, and he burned her with candle flames, and he splugged her on a gillikin spike. No man living knoweth what a gillikin spike is, but let the reader have faith in the knowledge that being splugged on one hurteth, and that most mightily.
“Then she was dragged before him, for she was weak after her splugging, and he said unto her, ‘behold, I have whipped thee, and burned thee, and splugged thee, now, kneel down and worship me, and then lay with me, for thou art very sexy.’
“But all around were amazed, for she worshipped him not, and told him that she would not lay with him, not even if he were the last man on earth. Then she spat in his eye. And all admired her courage. And all thought she was nuts.
“Then did Arborius rend his garments, he cried out in his wrath, and ordered that they should crucify her forthwith.
“Then they compelled her to carry her cross through the streets to a place outside the city, and there they stripped her, and they crucified her. With four woeful nails they fixed her to her cross, and with a heavy hammer they drove the nails through her wrists and through her feet. They stood the cross, with Barbaria upon it, outside the city gate. And she cried out in her pain, and in her sorrow, and made known her feelings about Arborius the Emperor.
“And those that passed by looked upon her, and great was their sorrow that one so fair should be on a cross so foul. But all feared Arborius, lest they, too, should be crucified, and all did as they were told, and worshipped him. So was Arborius happy. Multitudes gathered to look upon Barbaria on her cross, for verily she looked stunning. But then a great fog descended upon the whole country, so that none could see his hand before his face, let alone a pretty girl on a cross. And there was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, for none could see another, and they kept falling over. And they weren’t sure whether Arborius or Barbaria was to blame, but they were sure that they didn’t like it. Particularly because they couldn’t see Barbaria any more. And one said unto another, ‘Of all the bleeding times for a fog to come along, it’s the one time in our pitiful lives when we have something worth looking at!’ So they grumbled, and grizzled, and lamented their bad luck.
“For an hour the fog lay over the land. Then came a wind, and blew the fog away, but of Barbaria and her cross there was no sign, save for a hole in the ground and a few drops of blood on the earth.
“But Arborius the Emperor lay dead, with a very surprised look on his face and a nasty sharp spear in his chest. And all said ‘Good riddance!’ and ‘serves him right.’ That night, they had quite a party, and great was the carousing and their merriment.
“But from that day to this many have searched industriously for Barbaria and her cross, but none have found it. For only a virtuous and courageous seeker may discover her, and none such have yet walked upon the earth. For he that discovers her, and draws out her nails, he will be the most blessed among men.”
“Thanks be to God,” concluded Brother Paul.
“Amen!” replied Arthur and Rupert.
There was a long silence. The king broke it. “We have to find her.”
Rupert gazed at him. “Oh, yes, Sire! Once Sir Lancelot has the Holy Grail he can go and find Barbaria’s Cross!”
“Bugger Sir Lancelot. This is a job for Sir Rupert Wragg!”
Rupert was flabbergasted. “Me, Sire? Virtuous and Courageous? Surely not!”
“You are the most virtuous and courageous knight in the Land, Sir Rupert!” asserted the king. “Which may not be saying much, but it does mean that you’re our best hope!”
“But….where do I start and look? Which city was it, Brother Paul?”
Paul examined the manuscript. “I fear it doesn’t say. Maybe Rome itself, if the emperor was there?”
“Fear not, Sir Rupert!” Merlin was encouraging. “Surely the Spirit of Barbaria will lead you to her!”
“Excellent, that’s settled then.” Arthur was delighted. “Sir Rupert will set off at first light tomorrow!”
“Er….OK then.” Sir Rupert was rather less delighted. “Sire.” He added, as an afterthought.
Sir Rupert bowed. “Good morning, Your Majesty. We all have your best interests at heart. None of us wish to see you choke, Sire. I will have the kitchen maid flogged ere noon is upon us. She will learn to fillet chicken or I will have her filleted herself!”
The king muttered a bit but made no coherent reply. Sir Rupert was not a little alarmed. He’d had barely 24 hours notice that the king was to stay overnight at Cruxton Castle en route back to Camelot, and Sir Rupert not unnaturally wished to impress the king, not choke him. He changed the subject.
“Did you pass a peaceful night, my Liege?”
The King brightened, to Rupert’s relief. “Ah, yes, your chambermaid is to be complimented on her abilities!”
On both sides of the sheets, thought Rupert, but he was glad that Dorothy had pleased the king. She was worth her weight in gold, that one.
“Mind you, my dreams disturbed me.”
“Of what did you dream, Sire?”
“I dreamed of St Barbaria.”
“Don’t we all, Sire?”
The story of the virtuous St Barbaria and her dreadful suffering at the hands of the evil emperor Arborius was well known throughout Christendom. Rupert sighed. That was one crucifixion he’d have loved to witness.
“I dreamed that she was hanging from her cross.”
Rupert smiled. Yes, indeed. He’d had that dream.
The king continued. “She called out to me! ‘Arthur! Arthur!’ she called, ‘Is there one who is virtuous and courageous enough to come to my aid? Is there one who can draw out these dreadful nails and release my spirit to soar unto the heavens? If you send me such a man, if such a man there be, I will shower great blessings and riches upon your kingdom! Your women will be the most beautiful, your cattle the fattest, your crops the richest in the world! And I will strengthen the arms of your fighting men, that they be indefatigable in battle, and victory shall always be yours!’”
“But, Sire, Barbaria was crucified many ages ago! Does she yet live upon her cross?”
“I know not, Sir Rupert. Merlin will know.” He clapped his hands. A serving lad hurried into the room. He nearly clouted his forehead on the ground, bowing so low to the king.
“Bring me Merlin the Sorcerer!” commanded His Majesty.
“At once, Sire!” The boy scuttled out.
“She truly lived in your dream, though, Sire?”
A look of utter contentment came over Arthur’s face. “Oh, yes, Sir Rupert, she was more than alive, she looked transcendentally beautiful there on her cross. If you could but see what I saw last night, you would be the happiest man in the world. Such perfection, stretched out there for all to see. Golden breasts, and dark, tumescent nipples. Satin hair cascading around her slim body, her eyes of innocent purity beseeching my aid, her slender limbs marred only by those four cruel nails!”
“So, she was…naked?” Rupert was entranced, and completely forgot the ‘sire’.
The king either overlooked the transgression, or was unconscious of it. “Oh, yes, Sir Rupert. Gloriously, splendidly, unforgettably naked. “
“Arborius must have been quite a cad, to crucify a woman like that, Sire.” commented Rupert.
“Indeed he must. May he rot in hell.”
Merlin bustled in.
“His Majesty has been visited by St Barbaria in his dreams.” Rupert filled Merlin in on the basic facts, while the king gazed out of the window. “So what we want to know, Merlin, is what happened to Barbaria’s body after she was crucified?”
“No one knows.” Merlin stated, succinctly. “A great fog descended over the land, and, when it rose, there was no sign of Barbaria or her cross. It is just as the king dreamed, it is said that he that finds her and draws out her nails will bring great blessings upon himself and all his kinsmen for many generations.”
“Really? I’d never heard that,” mused Sir Rupert.
“Oh yes, it is in one of the Holy Scriptures carried by Brother Paul.”
Once again, the king clapped his hands. In scuttled the serving boy, once again he nearly head-butted the floor.
“Fetch me Brother Paul! Ask him to bring the scriptures concerning St Barbaria!”
The poor lad scampered off again, no doubt wondering how many more errands he had to face this morning. In due course he returned, labouring under the weight of an enormous tome, preceded by a serious faced monk.
The monk made deferment to the king, then bade the boy set the book down on a table. Relieved, the lad disappeared to await his next summons.
Brother Paul found his passage, and cleared his throat.
“And it came to pass, that Arborius the Emperor commanded that all should worship Caesar, and himself as the living representative of Caesar. And many fell down on their knees, for great was their dread of Arborius, and they praised him, saying, ‘O Arborius, thou art truly a god among men, have mercy upon us, we beseech thee!’
“But there was one, and her name was Barbaria. And she was very beautiful. Many hearts were rent in twain on account of her.
“And she spake unto Arborius, saying, ‘Verily, thou art not a god, thou art but a man, and not much of a man at that. See? Thou runnest to fat. And thou hast a very silly hat upon thy head. And those disgusting things that thou smoketh. Yuk. Behold, what with that and the smell of Seagrams thou art revolting. I shall not bow the knee, nor shall I worship thee, for I worship the one True God, and unto him only shall I bow the knee. So bugger thou off.’
“And lo, Arborius got very mad indeed. For his wrath was kindled, and his countenance became as a cloud of thunder. “Knowest thou that I have the power to whip thee, and burn thee, and splug thee on a gillikin spike? I even have the power to crucify thee!”
“’Go ahead,’ she replied unto him, ‘for I fear no man, least of all thee.”
“So it was that he had her whipped, and he burned her with candle flames, and he splugged her on a gillikin spike. No man living knoweth what a gillikin spike is, but let the reader have faith in the knowledge that being splugged on one hurteth, and that most mightily.
“Then she was dragged before him, for she was weak after her splugging, and he said unto her, ‘behold, I have whipped thee, and burned thee, and splugged thee, now, kneel down and worship me, and then lay with me, for thou art very sexy.’
“But all around were amazed, for she worshipped him not, and told him that she would not lay with him, not even if he were the last man on earth. Then she spat in his eye. And all admired her courage. And all thought she was nuts.
“Then did Arborius rend his garments, he cried out in his wrath, and ordered that they should crucify her forthwith.
“Then they compelled her to carry her cross through the streets to a place outside the city, and there they stripped her, and they crucified her. With four woeful nails they fixed her to her cross, and with a heavy hammer they drove the nails through her wrists and through her feet. They stood the cross, with Barbaria upon it, outside the city gate. And she cried out in her pain, and in her sorrow, and made known her feelings about Arborius the Emperor.
“And those that passed by looked upon her, and great was their sorrow that one so fair should be on a cross so foul. But all feared Arborius, lest they, too, should be crucified, and all did as they were told, and worshipped him. So was Arborius happy. Multitudes gathered to look upon Barbaria on her cross, for verily she looked stunning. But then a great fog descended upon the whole country, so that none could see his hand before his face, let alone a pretty girl on a cross. And there was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, for none could see another, and they kept falling over. And they weren’t sure whether Arborius or Barbaria was to blame, but they were sure that they didn’t like it. Particularly because they couldn’t see Barbaria any more. And one said unto another, ‘Of all the bleeding times for a fog to come along, it’s the one time in our pitiful lives when we have something worth looking at!’ So they grumbled, and grizzled, and lamented their bad luck.
“For an hour the fog lay over the land. Then came a wind, and blew the fog away, but of Barbaria and her cross there was no sign, save for a hole in the ground and a few drops of blood on the earth.
“But Arborius the Emperor lay dead, with a very surprised look on his face and a nasty sharp spear in his chest. And all said ‘Good riddance!’ and ‘serves him right.’ That night, they had quite a party, and great was the carousing and their merriment.
“But from that day to this many have searched industriously for Barbaria and her cross, but none have found it. For only a virtuous and courageous seeker may discover her, and none such have yet walked upon the earth. For he that discovers her, and draws out her nails, he will be the most blessed among men.”
“Thanks be to God,” concluded Brother Paul.
“Amen!” replied Arthur and Rupert.
There was a long silence. The king broke it. “We have to find her.”
Rupert gazed at him. “Oh, yes, Sire! Once Sir Lancelot has the Holy Grail he can go and find Barbaria’s Cross!”
“Bugger Sir Lancelot. This is a job for Sir Rupert Wragg!”
Rupert was flabbergasted. “Me, Sire? Virtuous and Courageous? Surely not!”
“You are the most virtuous and courageous knight in the Land, Sir Rupert!” asserted the king. “Which may not be saying much, but it does mean that you’re our best hope!”
“But….where do I start and look? Which city was it, Brother Paul?”
Paul examined the manuscript. “I fear it doesn’t say. Maybe Rome itself, if the emperor was there?”
“Fear not, Sir Rupert!” Merlin was encouraging. “Surely the Spirit of Barbaria will lead you to her!”
“Excellent, that’s settled then.” Arthur was delighted. “Sir Rupert will set off at first light tomorrow!”
“Er….OK then.” Sir Rupert was rather less delighted. “Sire.” He added, as an afterthought.
