The Curious Tale Of The Monk, The Knight, And The Spanish Onion

Page Three

Another ten years passed and the next lot of Crusades beckoned from the Holy Land. The knight became restless. His Lady tried to dissuade him from going, telling him that he was getting a bit past that kind of thing and that he should leave it to the younger men. But he had really enjoyed the last two crusades – especially the pre-battle banter and the long evening sessions in the hostelry afterwards – and he decided to go for it one more time. Darkness was falling as he reached the familiar village. He had learned from experience and instead of wasting time making enquiries at the inn he rode straight past and on to the monastery. The formalities were completed with practised ease. “A room for the night, Sir? You don’t mind sharing with Brother Ambrose? Then please do come in.”

The knight was led along the same familiar passages and shown into Brother Ambrose’s cell. As on the previous occasions, Brother Ambrose was in his bed and apparently fast asleep. However, the reality was that, as before, the good monk was only half asleep and he was vaguely aware of the knight entering the room. It took him a few minutes to come to but eventually he half opened his eyes. He was just in time to observe the knight complete the onion ritual, jump into bed and fall asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. Brother Ambrose was dismayed. He couldn’t believe that he had missed yet another opportunity to challenge the knight about his strange bedtime routine. The possibility of the knight departing in the morning without having extracted an explanation from him first was too awful to contemplate. As far as Brother Ambrose could see there was only one possible course of action open to him. He would have to stay awake all night so that he could be sure to intercept the knight in the morning, before he left for France. Now, Brother Ambrose had had a particularly hard day on the monastery farm and he was as tired as tired could be. He tried everything he could think of to stay awake. He tossed and turned. He thought about the next days work on the farm. He tried getting out of bed and walking around the room but that didn’t work too well because the room was so small that he had to walk in very tight circles and he ended up feeling quite dizzy. Back in bed he pinched himself and tossed and turned some more. It was very hard and several times he came really, really close to falling asleep but he could be extremely determined if he wanted to be and on this occasion his determination paid off. Very early in the morning, before the sun had even thought of peeking over the horizon, Brother Ambrose heard a faint movement from the other side of the room. “Is that you, Sir Knight?” he called out into the darkness.

“Yes, Brother,” the knight replied. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“Oh, no,” Brother Ambrose assured him, “I have kept myself awake all night because I wanted to ask you something before you left.”

“Really?” responded the knight. “Well, I shall be gone in a few minutes, Brother, for I have a long way to travel today. What is it that you wish to ask me?”

“Please excuse my impertinence, if impertinence it is,” said Brother Ambrose, “but I have been puzzling over this for many years. Tell me, Sir, why is it that just when you are about to get into bed you take an onion, slice it in half with your sword and place one half under one arm and the other half under the other arm?”

The knight looked uncomfortable when he realised what it was that Brother Ambrose wished to know. The promise of a new dawn was starting to illuminate the room and the knight took advantage of the sparse light that it offered to look carefully around Brother Ambrose’s cell. Then he went to the door, opened it and looked up and down the passageway outside to see that no-one was there. Satisfied that there were no eavesdroppers to hear his answer he turned to Brother Ambrose and said, “I would not normally respond to anyone who asked me that question, Brother. However, you and your Order have made me welcome here on three occasions now and I think it is only fitting that I should give you an answer. First, however, I have to ask you something, Brother.” He looked Brother Ambrose straight in the eye. “Tell me”, he asked, “can you keep a secret?”

“Oh yes, Sir Knight,” exclaimed Brother Ambrose. “I can keep a secret.”

And he did!

THE END

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I first heard 'The Tale Of The Monk, The Knight And The Spanish Onion' in the early 1970s and, as tends to be the case with jokes and stories of this kind, I have no idea from whence it originated. As told to me originally it was actually quite short and hardly deserving of the description 'shaggy dog story', so I have developed it and the version of it told here is Copyright © Mike Nagel 2010