Knight Madigan

By Wayne Greenough

My name is Alexander Madigan. I inherited a mansion that’s so old it might have been built before the thirteen colonies existed. I live all alone so I talk to myself and the twelve suits of armor standing in the mansion’s upstairs great hallway. In fact I had just said goodnight to them when right in front of me, so close it touched my toes, popped a thirteenth one. I swallowed down fear before I talked to it.

“I’m not really seeing you, am I? You’re nothing, only a case of loneliness tremors, or something akin to that. So do me a favor, just go away and right now.”

Of course it didn’t. It stayed and began changing colors, slowly at first, until it became a dark violet that radiated heat. Its helmet visor moved upward and two fiery eyes did things to my mind while staring through my skull and out its back end. A knife edge voice electrified the mansion’s air and raked my spine.

“At last we meet face to face.”

That was the beginning of my adventure that took me from modern day Earth and sent me through a dimension door to a medieval Earth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
• Release date: Oct 27, 2012
• ISBN: 9781771113168

Book preview

My name is Alexander Madigan. I inherited a mansion that’s so old it might have been built before the thirteen colonies existed. I live all alone so I talk to myself and the twelve suits of armor standing in the mansion’s upstairs great hallway. In fact I had just said goodnight to them when right in front of me, so close it touched my toes, popped a thirteenth one. I swallowed down fear before I talked to it.

I’m not really seeing you, am I? You’re nothing, only a case of loneliness tremors, or something akin to that. So do me a favor, just go away and right now.

Of course it didn’t. It stayed and began changing colors, slowly at first, until it became a dark violet that radiated heat. Its helmet visor moved upward and two fiery eyes did things to my mind while staring through my skull and out its back end. A knife edge voice electrified the mansion’s air and raked my spine.

At last we meet face to face.

That was the beginning of my adventure that took me from modern day Earth and sent me through a dimension door to a medieval Earth.

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Knight Madigan

Copyright © 2012 Wayne Greenough

ISBN: 978-1-77111-316-8

Cover art by Angela Waters

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Devine Destinies

An imprint of eXtasy Books

Look for us online at:

www.devinedestinies.com

Smashwords Edition

Knight Madigan

By

Wayne Greenough

To my wife, June—she is the fairest of all fair ladies. Thank you for all of the very special years we’ve had together. Let’s have more.

Chapter One

I inherited a mansion that’s so old it might have been built before the thirteen colonies existed. I live all alone so I talk to myself and to the twelve suits of armor standing in the mansion’s upstairs great hallway. In fact, I had just said goodnight to them when right in front of me, a thirteenth one popped in so close, it touched my toes.

I’m not really seeing you, am I? You’re nothing but only a case of loneliness tremors, or something akin to that. So do me a favor…just go away, and right now.

Of course it didn’t. It stayed and began changing colors, slowly at first, until it became a dark violet that radiated heat. Its helmet visor moved upward, and two fiery red eyes did things to my mind while staring holes through my skull and out its back end.

A knife-edged voice electrified the mansion’s air and raked my spine.

At last we meet face to face!

I swallowed the brassy taste in my mouth and attempted at being friendly.

All right, something told me I might not just be seeing things, that you’re for real. Well, hello there. I’m Alexander Madigan. Who might you be, a fugitive from a costume party I hope?

The knight didn’t answer. Instead, he delivered a bone-chilling laugh and drew a wicked broadsword from its scabbard. Now, my fine man, I shall sever your misshapen head from your foul body.

A sword ready to be used on you can activate a guy immediately, or even sooner. I ran. What else could I do? Stand and fight? No thank you. In college, I was a track star.

You cannot escape me. In running, I can best a steed.

That I doubted. His suit was made of plate armor, which due to its weight would most certainly slow him down, or so I thought, until I heard a running, clanking noise almost at my heels. Glancing over my left shoulder, while I still ran, he told me he will overtake me, as he was happily waving his sword in a beheading motion.

Turn and fight, or are you the most craven of all cowards?

I ignored his insult and kept running. I’m sure I ran faster than I ever ran at college. I kept wondering why I was being chased. Since there are no medieval knights in the twenty-first century, then who was this crazy character threatening to stick me all over? Obviously, he must be some totally unhinged escapee from a nut factory. I ruled out the costume party.

You cannot escape me. Soon, my trusty blade shall remove your head from your body.

I had a plan—or thought I had a plan. If I could get inside the mansion’s watchtower, I might be safe. It had a solid oak door with two dead bolts that should keep a maniac wearing a knight’s suit out, thereby allowing me to keep my head where it belongs.

I reached the spiral staircase leading to the watchtower and started a fast climb up the forty-two steps. Half way up, fatigue slashed away at me as my legs rapidly became lead weights. I swear forever came and went before I was safely behind the locked oak door.

Three heavy breaths later, coupled with a long sigh of relief, I shouted, Try and get my head for a souvenir now, you armored nutcase.

Laughter came from behind me. I turned, saw the knight with his swinging sword, and I have to admit I screamed and nearly smelled up my underwear. He was standing by my telescope. Now, how in the sacred name of King Arthur did he ever get in the room, and behind me?

Gadzooks, but thou are dimwitted. When you speak to Zarka, the Royal Alchemist to Her Majesty, the fairest of all fair ones, Princess Rowena, do be so courteous as to face me.

He bowed with sword in hand, swishing it back and forth over his head all the while.

The situation was stupid and desperate. What could I do now to keep myself from becoming headless? Each of us had managed to maneuver to a position where the telescope was between us and I could think of only one thing that might save me. I grabbed the heavy telescope and swung it with all my strength. The instrument struck the knight’s helmet and knocked him down. His plate-armored body crashing to the hardwood floor mocked a mountain of tin cans being struck by lightning bolts.

I didn’t stop to see if he was knocked out, or dead. I was out the door, down the staircase and running for my life. Then I heard laughter.

He was fifteen feet away waiting for me, with glowing eyes and swinging sword.

Well, done. Thou art quite a scrapper, indeed.

He advanced. I ran. I can’t remember everywhere. I did try hiding in every room that was open, and I climbed a dozen or more staircases. It was no use. He was always there waiting for me before I got there. I tried yelling for help even though I knew no one could hear me, but when you’re scared to death, you yell.

I was ready to drop from sheer exhaustion when I noticed we were back in the upstairs great hallway.

I slipped and crashed into a suit of plate armor. Its helmet, arms, leg armor, and chest plate scooted in every direction over the floor. The armor’s sword ended up in my right hand. It was Sir Black’s trusty two handed beheading sword. It was long bladed, heavy, and as deadly a weapon as I would ever want to handle.

Instantly, I felt confident. Why, if I had used my head I would have grabbed Sir Black’s sword the moment I saw the nutcase knight rather than do the running act all over the mansion.

Now, Sir Clank Head, I boasted, we’ll see who ends up a foot shorter at the top.

He laughed. Verily, thou but holds your sword like a maiden.

He blurred into action.

I’ve handled medieval swords, but never to do battle with one. Looking back at that crazy situation, I now wonder whatever possessed me to think I had a fighting chance. As I said before, Sir Black’s sword was for beheading. It was heavy and awkward. I had to use both hands just to hold the thing. I’ve fenced with light foils, but that knowledge didn’t help me.

Fight for your worthless life, you most miserable of all lizards.

We met head on. I swung my sword at his helmet. He blocked it with his own sword and shoved me backwards. I went sprawling to the floor with a bone jarring crash, losing the beheading sword when it slid into the darkness beyond my reach.

The knight stood over me, his evil glinting sword shining in the dim light, its point caressing my Adam’s apple. He had me. This was the end. At the moment, I was so tired I almost didn’t care. Well, not quite. I still had enough energy to make a wisecrack. In the face of death, I had to be shy a few brain cells when I said, All right, you got me. So now do you skewer me, or what?

Instead of taking my head, the knight bowed and extended his hand. Arise, Sir Black, Oh Mighty Avenger of the Oppressed.

Good Lord! His voice was choked with emotion! Dumbfounded to the point where I couldn’t speak, I took his hand and he pulled me effortlessly to my feet. He then straightened my clothing and removed dust from my shoulders. What was going on?

Gadzooks, but me thought I would have to pursue you all over this castle before you proved your mettle.

I could hardly believe what I was hearing, but I did mumble a question. How did I prove my mettle?

By challenging my skill with yon beheading sword, you proved to me you are not for lack of courage when faced with battle.

The knight removed his helmet to reveal himself as a white