The Black Knight was a legend. His name was barely whispered in the tavern and then only when people had imbibed one over the eight. It was said that he was the embodiment of pure evil and had defeated nine of the greatest knights of the realm sent to kill him. From time to time, a passing traveller would claim to have seen him or even met him. He stood over eight feet tall, it was said, and was as wide as two horses. His armour was jet black and protected by some evil magic so that even Excalibur would be blunted by its power. They said that if he raised his helm and you looked into his black eyes, you would surely go mad and throw yourself on the nearest sword. There was a modicum of truth in the latter for whenever he stayed in our barn, one look into his piercing blue eyes was all it took to make me throw myself onto his throbbing weapon.
From Inside Men’s Shorts
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