Knight Life Read Online Free PDF Page A

not yet registered on him that there was no sword in it. Then again, in all fairness to Sidney, it might have been that he was distracted by the mace that was hanging from the back of the armor on a small hook.
    Â Â Â Â  The knight stepped through the bashed-in door, clanking across the spotless green carpet of the men’s clothing store. Glass crunched under each armored foot. “I suppose you’re wondering,” said the knight, “why I’m wearing this ridiculous armor.”
    Â Â Â Â  Sidney tried to come up with an answer that seemed safe, since he was still convinced that at any moment this armored maniac might swing his mace and bash in Sidney’s skull. Sensing his boss’s hesitation, Quigley brightly stepped in with the first thing that came to mind. “Armor?” he said cheerfully. “What armor?” Sidney moaned softly.
    Â Â Â Â  The knight laughed softly. “Italian from the look of it,” he replied, inspecting one armored hand. “Wouldn’t you say?”
    Â Â Â Â  “Oh absolutely,” agreed Quigley. “You can always tell Italian armor. It has, uh … very narrow, pointy shoes.”
    Â Â Â Â  “Really?” said Arthur, apparently with genuine interest. “I’d place this armor at about, oh, fourteenth century.” He tapped the chestplate and smiled at the sound. “I daresaynone of your suits would wear for quite so long. Nevertheless I still find it clumsy. In my day we wore leathers. That’s when men fought men, not metal shells fought metal shells, lurching their way across the battlefield like overstuffed turtles. I think that was the beginning, you know. The beginning of isolating yourself from your opponent. Now … now it’s simply the press of a button and,” and he mimed an explosion. “No more opponent. Not a way for real men to fight at all. No style, no grace. Taking the fine art of soldiering and turning it into nothing more than mass butchery. Tragic. Just tragic.” His thoughts seemed to have wandered, and he pulled them back to the questions at hand. “Tell me, young man, what’s your name, please?”
    Â Â Â Â  “Quigley,” said Quigley, and chucking a thumb at his supervisor he said, “And this is—”
    Â Â Â Â  “The manager,” said Sidney quickly.
    Â Â Â Â  “Ah. Well, Quigley—” The knight leaned against the counter, draping one arm against the cash register—“My name is Arthur, and I—”
    Â Â Â Â  “Arthur,” said Quigley brightly. “Just like the name of the store, named after King Arthur.”
    Â Â Â Â  “Just like, yes. So … you seem to be an expert. Tell me, what think you of chain mail?”
    Â Â Â Â  “I tried that once,” said Quigley. “Sent five dollars to five friends. I should have gotten $10,037 back, but I never saw a dime.”
    Â Â Â Â  Arthur cocked an eyebrow, said nothing for a moment, then continued, “As I was saying, this whole armor thing is something of a practical joke, played by someone whom I thought a bit too old for this sort of thing. I really wasn’t anticipating wandering about New York City dressed for the Crusades. I had more imagined, well, something along those lines.” He inclined his head toward a three-piece suit that stood handsomely displayed on a mannequin. “Might I try that on?”
    Â Â Â Â  “Um ... I don’t think,” said Sidney cautiously, “thatit will, um, quite fit over your, um, current vestments.”
    Â Â Â Â  “I quite agree.” He raised his arms, looking decidedly unthreatening. “If you would be so kind as to help me off with these ...”
    Â Â Â Â  Sidney Krellman glanced at Quigley and inclined his head. Quigley shrugged, walked over to the knight, and began to