You can call me Elmer Bauldry, Sir Elmer if you must. I am known as an unmarked knight, the one who wears all black. I fight as noble with much chivalry as the whites; however, I have no lord nor king for who I protect with might. I linger the days free and fight at the fall of night. The mystery of who I am scares even the darkness at times. With this gift of brain and strength, I render all the troubled people, both near and far. Now that you know who and what I am, I have a tale to tell about a day when I lost my mind.

At the time I feared that as a black knight, my armor and brain could be the only trusted. I feared without my protection and logic that I would wither away. However, one day at a gruesome battle, I fell down the river. The next day I woke up seeing myself in a nearby log cabin. Stripped from my armor, nowhere to be seen, I felt bare and could not think so clearly, of course at the time I did not look for my armor. As I turned, a mistress came towards me and helped me with my wounds. Feeling nothing, I just stared. She asked for my name. I could not remember. With a blank mind and no past to help spark my thoughts, I was given rags for clothes and a pail full of well water.

The next day was even more different than I can imagine. I helped the lady with her duties. I cleaned the walls, milked the cows, brushed the horses, and emptied the stalls. The night fell, more like dusk. I heard a shriek, which the chills ran down my back. I stood up on my feet with elegance and softly walked in the direction. I saw a black knight with his hands on the mistress from the cabin, as she shrieked and struggled from his grip. I immediately ran around behind him and with one quick motion seized his sword from his scabbard, since it is my innate reaction. The black knight noticed this man in rags with his sword ready to joust. Being aware of my surroundings, I knew he had another sword packed away. One moment passed and we began to fight. As the final motion, which sparked my memory, this sword, this motion, this armor was similar to mine. I did not kill that black knight, although he called me a vagabond. I merely left him unconscious. The next action was not my proudest. I stripped the armor from the knight and took his swords. As I rode off on his horse, I announced my farewell to the mistress and told her my name.

“Sir Elmer Bauldry at your service, Madame.”

Do not get me mistaken. I left him there for his own good. As before I left, I dressed him in my rags, so he can also know that the clothes do not make the knight. The knight is a knight where ever he is or whatever he is wearing because we are born with a duty in life. It is our destiny. So, I conclude with my tale to tell you all that the man inside the armor is the one to honor.