The Rescue

It was in a time where trees flourished, leaves, bushes and prairies grew green. The morning, harboured birds that sung in their sweet latin
and all beings were filled with joy. But the solitary forest not only harboured nature, but it also harboured Sir Yvan the knight of the golden horse. His bravery was only challenged by his gallantry and skill in hunt. Sir Yvan was the greatest knight in King Artus court. That day he had woken
up early for an early hunt in the forest. Fully armed, he entered the
forest, searching for the legendary Questing Beast. As he entered the
forest his heart filled with joy. The sweet weather smiled at him, the serene symphony of birds also pleased him. All of these things were being held sweetly in his heart that day. He felt at peace with himself, for once in his life his sword was not tainted with blood. As happy as God on earth
the templar rode happily with nothing on his mind. Finally by midday he
halted to rest. He sat by a nearby tree holding an apple. Yvan, contemplated its shear perfection. Gracefully unsheathing a dagger, he cut a piece of the apple out making the shape of a right triangle. Yvan with
his great intellect thought of the dimension of this triangle. The
measures, he thought, were approximately 13 cm for the long part of the triangle and one of the other parts being 5cm. Many a question, he asked himself, some of which he decided to confer to a sage. One of them being what was the area of that specific triangle. His thoughts led on to other thoughts and he quickly fell into a somnolent state. The weak breeze blew gently upon his dark black hair and pushed the apple from his hands. Caught
in the soporific effect of the breeze, he fell asleep. But, only to be awakened by a terrifying shriek followed by a cry of help. Opening his dark hazel eyes in a terrified glaze, he promptly stood up. Yvan the brave was terrified with fear. The man considered to be the most fearless opponent, cowered as following cries were heard. The voice of the distressed cry, was
none other than Yvan's true love, his queen, his half, Diana. Quickly mounting his golden horse, he rode towards his beloved. The weather seemed to deteriorate by the minute. Clouds imprisoned the sun, and a torrent of water fell upon the earth. Riding as fast as he could he encountered the
source of all his fears. Across the bridge, separating the end of the
forest and the fields stood a black knight with his beloved.
"Mordred, you foul beast," yelled Yvan, "release Diana, immediately!"
"So you do remember me, Yvan. Maybe, the lighting will make you remember this!" answered the dark night lifting his helmet. The whole left
side of his face was disfigurated.
"Yes, Yvan, it was you, and your wicked ways. The hot oil you threw upon my face two years ago in the siege of Camelot blinded me of one eye
and made me into this monster."
" Mordred, you should have known, attacking Artus was foolish" desperately responded Yvan. The brave night looked fearfully at his love,
she was tied with chains across Mordred's gray horse.
"Yvan," screamed Mordred with a mischievous glance, "you will go through the same pain and suffering as I have. You shall lose your wench"
"Mordreddddd." yelled Yvan at the top of his lung. Unfortunately his words rung hollow. The dark knight was already fleeing through the fields. The desperate templar tried to pursue him, but his advance was cut short by a thunderous lighting bolt. A titanic oak tree had cracked and destroyed the bridge. The 36 meter tree had fallen as if hinged. Yvan, was at loss. This was the only passageway to the other sides for miles. The river was uncrossable, the Loire is a powerful river and no man had ever crossed it
in a storm such as the one Yvan was experiencing. Yvan, thought of a solution quite promptly. The once beautiful tree had hit the other side at approximately 24 meters, or so Yvan calculated. It was long enough to cross the gap. Yet, the height from the base was too great. For a brief moment, Yvan tried to calculate its height. Finally, making a crucial decision, he grabbed his lance and led his horse towards the base of the tree. He nimbly
got up on top of his horse and using his lance as support, he swiftly
jumped towards the crack. The lance giving it the effect of a perch, he swung himself safely to the top of the crack. After having safely landed, the brave night crossed the river using the tree as his provisory bridge. As he reached the other side, the Knight ran across the plains pursuing his hated enemy. One hour later he finally fell. Exhausted, without his horse or lance, he wandered into a mad delirium. In his brief madness, he thought of the height of the tree from the base to the crack. He also thought of
his love and the ghastly Mordred. Yvan, consumed by hatred, exhaustion,
love and suffering slowly closes his eyelids and enters Orpheus' realm.
Awakening in a soft bed, Yvan, with his eyelids still closed, prays to God. As he opens his eyelids he recognizes the room which he is in. It is
the great watchtower of Sir Kay, his dear and fellow brother in arms. Quickly, he gets up and dresses himself and rushes to the top of the great watchtower. Upon finally reaching the topmost level of the tower, Sir Yvan
meets Sir Kay the seneschal.
"Yvan, awake, so early?" exclaimed the surprised steward
"Spare me the petty talk my friend, but do tell me, have you seen a
dark night riding by here yesterday?" questioned the anxious knight
"My watchtower sees for mile and beyond, that is how we spotted you.
Yes, indeed, he was in quite a hurry," answered the jovial seneschal.
"Please, I pray you to tell me his direction," asked the templar
"Well," responded Kay rubbing his chin, " He strode 7 miles due north,
6 miles due east and 4 miles due north yet again."
"Kay, thank you, and goodbye," responded Yvan while flying down the
"We got your horse," yelled Kay after Yvan
Yvan just kept on running, he went directly to the stable where his lance and horse were waiting for him. After a few minutes of tugging to get inside the armour, Yvan left in pursuit of his foe. Oro, his golden horse had never run so fast. Yvan, fled in a straight line towards the northeast. Mordred had lost time zigzagging, but Yvan, inspired by Hermes, was gaining on him. Night was only hours away when Yvan reached an abandoned castle. This castle wall had no doors or window which one could enter. Yvan knew
Mordred was in the keep, his foul smell infested the area. Yvan, locked
outside the castle walls concocted a plan. With the branches which had
fallen during previous the storm and the leather strap of his horse, he built a 25 foot ladder. After tying Oro to a nearby tree, he armed himself with his sword and shield. Placing the ladder 7 feet from the wall he began his climbing. Yvan as bright as he was did not anticipate the muddy earth which had been soaked the previous night. The ladder slipped down about 4 feet from the wall. Yvan, wondered how many feet the bottom slid down and
how much more would it slip if he did not hurry. Thus, he hurried and reached the wall without any further trouble. He then entered the dungeon.
The dungeon had many passageways which Yvan explored thoroughly until finding a locked door, with a puzzle of the key. The key was to be built off a chunk of wood, left explicitly there for that purpose. The key was to
be shaped as a right triangle, but the dimensions were not given. After much inspection, Yvan discovered that the longest side was to be 17 cm and
another side 15 cm. Yet, the other side was still missing. Yvan, spent hours carving the piece, and finally unlocked the door. Before penetrating this other room Yvan thought of the last leg of the triangle, which he had not measured. What could it be? He asked himself in a distracted thought.
His thoughts were troubled no more when he entered the next room.
Yvan the valiant stepped inside the room sword first. His eyes quickly
glanced to the left where he saw his future bride in chains, but to the
right, the dark night stood.
"Late, you are late," joked the sinister figure
"Were you in such a haste to have my sword thrust across your abdomen and see death?" stated Yvan in a menacing tone. Yvan raised his shield and
so did Mordred.
Needless to say, both knights fought ferociously. Many flesh wound were made and also many future scars. The fight raged for two full hours. In the end, Yvan the knight of the golden horse proved to be the victor.
His sharp sword penetrated Mordred's abdomen in a cold and calculated
thrust. Mordred had no time to grasp the pain for he was beheaded
immediately afterwards.
Yvan the slayer, liberated his loved one and after a long and
passionate kiss, they both left the abandoned castle. The slain body of Mordred was left to rot, except for his head which was sent to King Artus
as a symbol of allegiance from Yvan. After this tale many tales were written about the brave Yvan the knight of the golden horse but none were
so calculated.