To Become a Knight.
[GM: Okay, what does Alexis have to study to become a knight? In order to discuss this, let me use Paris as an example. There was a certain amount of knowledge that just "came with" the card-- how to be a military person, the basic skills of combat, etc. What she had to learn was how to stop being a peasant and become a noble.
That's obviously not a problem for Alexis. What will be an issue for her are some things that Paris found natural. Alexis has learned the 'societally proper' skills for a noble lady of importance. How to, putting it bluntly, manipulate people to get done what she wants done. Very useful at court; and the only option this male chauvinist society allowed for its women. Until the Change. :)
What Alexis doesn't have is...what to call it? A sense of the "responsibility" for the people in your charge/under your command that comes with the being in charge. Paris had this in spades, due to the years she spent helping run the farm after her dad died, and keeping Calais out of trouble. In the Hero Games sense, Alexis is more lacking in certain disadvantages than in certain skills.
An example. Part of Paris' training with the boys included the fight scene, where some of them jumped her and beat her up. When the "Sergeant" got the fight broken up, and had them all lined up and was shouting at them, Paris took responsibility for starting the fight. She then took the punishment for it. In the long run, it was the right thing to do, it made a big change in her relationship with the others in her class. In the short run, well, cleaning the stables in forty pounds of armor was not fun. Taking the responsibility for the fight came naturally to her; I suspect it wouldn't to Alexis, she would be figuring how to put the blame on the right person.
While one could be a knight without this sense of responsibility, chivalry, what ever you want to call it, the 'best' ones have it in spades. It is probably one of the things Alexis most admires in the Duke, and it is one of the things that the Gryphons make sure they teach. (It was no accident that certain sons of certain nobles, who were well skilled in arms, faced in the first two rounds of the tournament the people that wound up being the top four in the contest. Sir Gryphon did what he could to make sure that people that would use all the rights of being a knight, but accept none of the responsibilities, were eliminated early and without question.) It is described in some of the things Paris was taught as the "Compact," what the lord owes the people under him, but wasn't really ever written down.
Probably as Paris talks about this, Alexis will recognize what she is talking about in the actions of the Duke and certain others in the court. There are some people who are chivalrous and some who are not; and Paris will try to point out how important it is. At first, I suspect she has no idea of what Paris is trying to explain. It will take some time to communicate it. Along with it goes the other knightly ideals: keeping your word, valor, grace, humility, (trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly.. all the other Boy Scout points :) ).
Sheryl, by virtue of years in the SCA, knows all this a lot better and will fill in the real words. She will also probably try to do it in character. :) To my point of view, the points needed for Alexis to become a knight are small; the change in her approach to things (the role playing of her) is much larger.
So, to recap, where Paris had to learn not to be a peasant but to become a lord, Alexis' problem is how to stop being a noble lady and start being a 'true and gentle knight.'
Paris & Alexis.
It had not rained during that day of travel or the one before, thought Alexis as she helped to prepare evening camp. She'd done her share of teaching over the last few trips the Party had taken and she was beginning to wonder whether Paris -- the knight -- was ever going to remember the task the Duke had set to her. Well, suggested. But it amounted to the same thing.
She dropped a last armload of firewood near the campfire and turned to note that the knight had finished rubbing down the last horse. Peasant work. This traveling on quests was mostly peasant work. Her mother would be so ... so ... Alexis shoved the thought aside. After all, it wasn't to please her mother that she wanted to go through with all this. And if it included peasant work, she wasn't going to be one to complain.
It was with a mild note of impatience and suppressed eagerness that Alexis brought up that matter that had been on her mind off-and-on since her last interview with her Duke. "Paris."
The dark-haired girl looked up from her crouch by the fire.
"When are we going to start knightly training? Shouldn't I be learning the weapons of a knight? What are they, exactly?"
Paris hesitated for a long moment, the flickering of the flames throwing dark shadows across her face.
"Paris?" Alexis said again.
The younger girl answered slowly, some hesitation showing in her voice. "Um, I -- I think we should talk some. I -- don't think -- weapons," the hesitation continued and Alexis frowned internally. The knight was, in general, a good teacher, Alexis knew. This sounded like she had not much confidence in her ability to train the herald. Paris took a deep breath and her voice shifted to a quieter, less troubled sound. "I -- do not think -- that I am necessarily the right person to instruct you, Lady Alexis. It -- has much to do with history and -- well, we should talk about it some. Perhaps we should start with Philosophy."
Alexis felt a touch of surprise. It was weapons that she needed in order to pass the Trials. Her eyes narrowed. But if Philosophy was what the knight wanted to start with, at least it would be a start. Alexis had always been quick at lessons. There should be little in the former peasant's Philosophy that should come as any surprise to a Lady of the Court with as much experience as Alexis had. She moved over and settled herself near Paris. The younger girl had started to clean and inspect her armor. Alexis started to do the same, keeping an attentive ear tuned.
"Once upon a time...," Paris started. Alexis felt her eyebrows raise. Lais were the province of the bard; when had Paris started taking on his skills? The herald had been an astute enough observer of people to recognize almost from the first day with this Party that the bard held the peasant girl-warrior in disdain. He certainly hadn't been teaching her. And, in fact, she wasn't a very good storyteller. She seemed to be trying to recall phrases from long-disused memories.
Softly Paris said again, "Once upon a time, when I was younger, the padre of our church would read to me and .. his daughter, stories. I recall some of the words of one. 'The Lady of the Lake took the new knight aside and said: Forget not that you are a king's son, and that your lineage is as noble as that of anyone upon earth. Wherefore, see to it that your worthiness shall be as great as your beauty, and that your courtesy and gentleness shall be as great as your prowess. Go forth into the world to prove your knighthood as worthily as God shall give you grace to do. For I would not have you declare yourself to the world until you have proved your worthiness by your deeds. It is better for the world to proclaim the worthiness of a man than that the man should proclaim his own worth.'"
Paris sat quiet for a few heartbeats. "Knight-candidates, men-at-arms, squires, and knights spend long hours," she smiled slightly, "when not in 'polite company', asking each other 'How?' But I have noticed that the wisest and best of them ask -- as my padre used to -- 'Why?' The younger ones answer ' For Glory! To be the best, the highest, the greatest.' And," Paris nodded gently, "the stories do speak of Glory: the light and heat of the moment's great action. You know that feeling yourself," Paris looked steadily into the black eyes of the herald. "You have stood surrounded by enemies and prevailed -- in glory." Again Paris was quiet, holding the gaze. Then, more softly, "But the knight-teachers would shake their heads. And it came to me. If that were all, every brave at any fight should be made a knight. But they are not. Why?"
"You may have heard -- you know so much more of castle life than I - that, on my first night in the Duke's castle, a knight spoke against me. And, although he was brought shame by being told that my prowess was greater than his, he was still a knight, still held his ground, and was still right to speak against my presence. (Hard as it was for me to deal with that.) Why?"
"And, now that I have been made a knight, every word I say, every act I participate in will be scrutinized even more closely than before. Hard as it might be to believe -- given the work it took (You know. You helped!) to get me accepted thus far -- that is as it should be as well. Why?"
"Why should I -- or Prince William or Duke Evan or Sir Marion Chivar or any such -- be held every moment to some unwritten standard? And why should it be right to do so? What are the virtues so hard to live up to and yet so valued that the stories all describe a man as obviously living them before the king in the stories says, 'Gladly will I make him a knight'?"
"My padre once described the virtues of knighthood as prouess (prowess/ skill at arms and the attendant renown/ reputation), hardiement (valour/ to go to one's limits and beyond), loyaute (loyalty/oath-keeping), largesse (generosity to those less fortunate), courtoisie (courtesy), franchise (honour/ responsibility/ the integrity that justified entitlement/ nobility of heart) and, last but not least, piete (piety/ reverence for God/ faith in Virtue). There are, as well, other knightly virtues: justice, humility, purity, forthrightness, verite (honesty), and the duty of defense. Chivalry -- that is, the philosophy of knighthood -- is, simply, a collection of virtues all of which must be constantly practised, ever striven towards."
"Some count justice and duty as part of franchise, forthrightness and honesty as part of loyaute, humility as part of courtoisie, purity as part of piety. It matters not how one tallies them. It matters that one makes them ones own. My padre once quoted some great knight as saying, 'Virtue is more worth than gold or silver withoute ony comparyson'."
"There have been knights without all those virtues -- or, rather, who have some in rather scant measure. But the greatest knights, the men that we are willing to follow unto death, have all in abundance. Describe, if you will, those happenstances that have caused you most to admire your lord. And see, I doubt not, that each such instance will touch one or more of those knightly virtues. I can do so from my own experience, which is far less than yours, I think. Duke Evan stood before the gate and defended Westmore against the orcish hordes. That was prouess and franchise. He listens attentively in audience to both noble knight and peasant bard. That is courtoisie. He gives housing and sustenance to the displaced and silver cards to the heroic. That is largesse. He survived entrapment in his magical armour and the poisons of the doppleganger's spiders. That is, in part, hardiement. And his loyaute has earned him the respect and affection of both Prince William and Princess Carline. This is, of course, simplistic. But the example stands."
"Think of the knights you know. Which one best exemplifies what you know of each virtue. Is not Sir Gryphon prouess? Is not Sir Marion duty of defense? Is not Sir Avenal forthrightness? The man -- or woman -- can be acknowledged side by side with the title. But even there -- and certainly amongst the ordinary people -- one knight represents all knights. To fail in even one virtue, is to tarnish all knights in the eyes of the people who have given their lives into our protection, their lands into our maintenance."
"Every morning when I make my obeisance to God, it is one of my prayers that the gods help me to come just a little closer to this ideal, to not fail my teachers, my fellow knights, my Order, and my Prince. I know myself how far I fall short."
"The old tales tell, I recall, that in the days of the legendary kings, it was custom for young boys who aspired -- or whose families wanted them to aspire -- to knighthood to become servants of an established knight. As youngsters, they would be pages in that knight's household -- just as there are pages in noble households today -- where the ladies of the household teach them reading and writing, obedience and manners. In return, the pages -- as today -- ran all manner of simple errands for the people of the household. Once they started to acquire strength, though, they 'graduated' to become squires. To serve their lord as body-servants. And to start their education in the physical skills. And to practise from example and by instruction the chivalric virtues."
"Today, instead, squires are rare and the Great Lords, such as Duke Evan, use master trainers to educate their knight-candidates. This change came about, I suspect, because not all knights are good teachers. And because it is a rare person who can grow great in soul if he is bound to a poor master. Rather than fall back into the barbarism of a lot of petty chieftains all with their own little enclaves of warriors, the Kingdom of the Isles and Tara recognized that a few good schools would turn out the highest quality of responsible warriors. Loyal to the greater good, to the Great Lords, to all of the kingdom rather than to a petty lord."
"But there was one good thing in the old system. The youth himself swore an oath of allegiance to his knight and, in so doing, gave the knight the right -- nay, the necessity -- of speaking bluntly and correcting any mistake in virtue of his squire. These days such an oath does not come until after the warrior is made knight. A very, very great responsibility, therefore, lies on the knight-teachers. I -- do not have a Sir Gryphon's experience. Have you -- considered -- asking your Duke -- to allow you to squire to one of his knights who would actually be qualified to train you?"
Paris sat in silence for a while [and perhaps there was an exchange of ideas, of questions and answers, but, perhaps not....] watching the flickering of the fire, the preparations being made by the others for sleep and watch. Then she turned back to Alexis. "One of the tasks My Prince once set me was to 'think like a noble.' I suspect that sounds strange to you; I know Lorraine thought it odd. After a while, though, of listening, of thinking, of realizing that I had a lot of listening and thinking to do... I realized that it was but one step towards the ideal of knighthood. Why? What are the differences between 'a lord' and 'a knight'? And between 'a warrior' and 'a knight'?" Softly she answered her own question, "In the best of cases, there is no difference."
"A lord is one who has been gifted a title, by birth or decree, with which he assumes the right to command. To tell others what to do and to expect obedience. This is the greatest privilege of nobility. But -- it did not come into existence simply because someone created a fancy word -- a title -- and started having himself called by it. All the great Houses, all the lords, great or small, can point back to their ancestors, the first of whom came and -- by strength of arm and mind and soul -- carved out a portion of wilderness, held off the dangers of the wilderness and provided the leadership whereby others could come and build homes and livelihoods where none had been before. Or they can point to an ancestor who by great skill and deeds -- not necessarily of arms -- impressed such a lord and found a high place in his household. Thus all lords owe their privileges to their own first lordly ancestor who actually earned those privileges."
Paris smiled softly. "I think Anton would not like those thoughts. He thinks, perhaps, that all people -- himself included -- should be able to give orders and be obeyed. No, I am unjust to him. Rather I think he would like no one to have the right to give orders." She looked earnestly at the herald. "In some sense, he has the right of it in one very small part. Yes, those first lords earned their place. But they -- and their successors -- keep those places only because those who follow -- the peasants who provide, the artisans who build, the town-people who distribute, the warriors who protect, even those who administer -- have given the lord those rights and privileges. It is an unwritten contract, one that a lord can seriously and repeatedly break only at great peril. Those rights and privileges are given to the lord by the people who obey him because they believe he is wise enough and strong enough to provide the security, prosperity and protection they want. If he deliberately fails to provide security, prosperity, and protection, the people will either refuse to obey -- they will leave as the people left Gilliam -- or rise up against him. In either case he has lost the privileges of lordship and it will take great effort and much pain to win them back again."
"Those who command -- and never consider what they owe those who obey -- are lords in name only. They rest on the laurels of the true lords who came before. The true lord -- like the true knight -- is the one who has taken an oath, in public, before God and his peers, to accept the responsibilities of lordship -- to care for the people and the land. In turn the people obey, honour -- and sometimes fear -- the lord. Without land and people, there is no lord."
"This is, in essence, similar to the difference between warrior and knight. A warrior is one who fights, who makes the deliberate choice to train and develop the skills that allow him to put his life and body between destruction and gain. One fights a monster and, perhaps, gains a card or treasure ... or, at the very least, renown. The rewards Singer and his comrades seemed to value. A commendable warrior puts his life and body between destruction and something he or his oath-bindings wants to protect: his comrades, his family, his or their property, his lord and his lord's property. He still gains, but it is still, in many ways on a personal level: his family, his friends, his property, his salary from his lord. A knight, however, has sworn to put his life and body between destruction and an ideal: all those -- whether known to him or not -- who look to the royal house, who are part of this kingdom. Moreover, he has sworn to think about that responsibility, to advise as necessary and to be silent and obey when necessary, and to be as virtuous as possible in all things. Other men may be virtuous, thoughtful, skilled. But only a knight has sworn his oath to the matter and promised the yet-unlived years of his life as part of what he owes, if necessary." She quoted softly, "'Til death take us or the world end.'"
Again Paris gazed into Alexis' black eyes. "Sometimes, however, it's the responsibilities of living with one's oath that are harder than being willing to die for one's oath." As the knight's thoughts turned towards her own oath-swearing, the face of Prince Martin wavered in her memory. She sighed. "It can be very hard at times."
"Chivalry" copyright 2000 P. Shea & S.Knowles. The contents of this site are copyright 2004 Sheryl A. Knowles unless otherwise specified. All rights reserved.