The Knight of Sticks and Straw
TERRY DEARY’S
KNIGHT’S TALES
Illustrated by Helen Flook
A & C Black • London
First published 2009 by
A & C Black Publishers Ltd
36 Soho Square, London, W1D 3QY
Text copyright © 2009 Terry Deary
Illustrations copyright © 2009 Helen Flook
The rights of Terry Deary and Helen Flook to be identified as the
author and illustrator of this work have been asserted by them in
accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
eISBN: 978-1-40819-887-2
A CIP catalogue for this book is available from the British Library.
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Printed and bound in Great Britain
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Table of Contents
Chapter One Bullies and Berbers
Chapter Four Candle and a Coward
Chapter One
Bullies and Berbers
Castile, Spain, 1099
Cristina hated the feasts at the palace of Valencia.
The knights made a lot of noise and shouted at her. But that wasn’t why she hated the feasts.
The cooks in the kitchen made her run and fetch heavy bags of corn, pots big enough for her to bathe in and logs that were larger than her. But that wasn’t why she hated the feasts.
The maids poked fun at her tattered, woollen clothes and her bare feet, for she only had shoes for church on Sunday. They bullied her. But that wasn’t why she hated the feasts.
The feasts went on deep into the night. By the time Cristina had helped clear the tables, clean the pots and polish the pans, it was dark.
Even in the warm, summer nights, when the stars were like a shower of silver, it was dark in the streets of Valencia when she hurried home.
That
was why she hated the feasts.
Everyone was asleep as Cristina ran home over the stony streets, past snarling dogs, slippery rats and green-eyed cats. And worse.
That first night, she almost lost her way from the palace gates to her home on the hill below. She crashed through the door into the poor, little house and the leather hinges almost snapped.
Cristina’s mother gasped in the blackness. “Who’s there?”
Cristina panted for breath and creaked like the door. “Mama!”
“Cristina?
Are you back?”
“Mama!”
“What on earth is wrong, child?”
“I saw a giant… He tried to catch me, but I ran.
And when I ran, all the dogs started to chase me. He had huge arms and he tried to catch me.
Oh, Mama! Do I have to go back to the palace?” she sobbed and threw herself on her mother’s blanket.
Mama held her trembling young daughter and said, “We are at war, my child. The Berber enemies are at the gates of the city. Your father is in the army. We are alone.”
“I know, Mama.”
“I can’t make enough money to keep you, Cristina. You have to help. You’re big enough now. And when you work at the palace, you are fed for free.”
“I know… It’s not the work … or the girls who are so cruel to me. It’s… It’s the
dark
. I hate the dark. Giants get you in the dark.”
Mama took her daughter by the hand and pulled her to her feet in the soft darkness of the room. She led her to the door and pulled it open. She looked down the street. “See? No giants.”
