(Nimue)
I did not expect them. Hooves thundering - a heavy horse, white and otherworldly racing across the field. A man in armour, glinting in the sunlight. I wept, and I did not know why I was weeping.
We tell good stories about knights in armour who come to the rescue. Aurthurian tales of chivalry, the wild fantasies of those early romance stories. Knights who go mad and tilt at windmills, chase questing beasts and search for the holy grail. Riders out of fairy with uncanny beauty who might lead you into all kinds of peril. Knights who will rescue you, or fight to defend your honour. The tales of knights are full of magic and wonders.
What my heart responded to when the knight rode out into the field, was those stories, and a longing for chivalry and magic.
My head went somewhere else fairly quickly. My head said this is a symbol of patriarchal oppression and feudalism. This is money, power and control, claiming might is right. What you have here is a capable killing machine able to force its intentions onto others. This is conquest and colonialism, and throwing lives away so that a small number of men can give each other titles.
What I learned about the battle of Tewkesbury at the weekend agreed with my head response far more than with my heart feeling. A battle caused by a desire to rule, fuelled by the ambitions of others. Professor Ronald Hutton provided some enlightening context, and insightful commentary. We sat in the landscape where the battle had taken place. No one knows how many of the dead are still in that field, uncounted, unnamed, unrecovered. I was moved during the minute's silence where we were invited to think of them. It turned what might have been just a theatrical show into something poignant.
My heart still longs for the knights who are not driven by greed and the desire for power.
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