Roland Wright: Future Knight - Softcover

Davis, Tony

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0385738013 ISBN 13: 9780385738019

Publisher: Yearling, 2010

Synopsis

A laugh-out-loud chapter book series filled with knightly adventures!

Roland Wright wants to be a knight in armor. The problem: Roland’s dad is a blacksmith, and only boys from noble families can even dream of becoming knights. When mysterious visitors arrive in the village one day, everything changes. Roland finds himself in the contest of a lifetime, with a real chance to become a page, the first step on the road to knighthood. But how can skinny, clumsy Roland beat an opponent who is bigger, stronger, and older—and who doesn’t play by the rules?

About this title

About the Author:

Tony Davis is the author of bestselling adult and children’s nonfiction in his native Australia. He lives in Sydney.

Gregory Rogers has illustrated many children’s books. He lives in Australia.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

These days it is considered rude to chop a man's arm off with a battle-axe, even when you don't like him.   And when someone is really annoying, or is standing in your way and will not move, it is not polite to take a large silver sword and swing it with all your force at eye level, neatly removing the top of that person's head.   But it wasn't always like that.   Six centuries ago, a boy named Roland Wright turned ten. Well, nearly ten. It was the year 1409, in a period known as the Middle Ages. Almost everything was different from the way it is today.   For a start, there were no cars. There were no planes either. Television? Not even in black-and-white.   Books had to be written out by hand because the man who was going to invent printing wasn't even a teenager yet.   People went from one place to another by foot or, if they were very lucky, by horse. But even traveling by horse wasn't easy or comfortable. The roads of the Middle Ages were made of dirt, and the dirt was dirtier than it is today. When it rained the roadsturned to mud, and the mud was muddier too.   Most people lived in the country, not in cities. The houses in Roland's village had roofs made of straw, and no chimneys. All through winter they were full of smoke because the only way to heat them was to light a fire inside. The only way to cool housesin summer was to open a window, and the windows were made of wood.   Worse still, many families had to share their house with their animals, particularly when it was cold or wet. Everything would smell of pig and donkey and chicken, except for pigs and donkeys and chickens, which probably smelled of house.   Life in the Middle Ages wasn't only tough and a bit pongy, it could also be pretty dangerous. Many arguments, large and small, were sorted out by knights in armor fighting each other with large and terrible weapons.   Sometimes they used huge broad_swords, sharp on both sides and capable of slicing a tree in two. They had big ugly maces too, with a long handle and a metal ball at the end covered with horrible spikes. When the mace was swung hard enough, these spikescould even puncture armor.   Some knights had long poleaxes, or spears. These were so pointy that they could poke right through someone's body, causing blood to squirt out both sides like tomato sauce squirts out of those little plastic-and-foil tubs that you turn upside down overa meat pie and bend in half.   Of course, arguments in 1409 were not always sorted out in such a way.   Jenny Winterbottom, who lived near Roland Wright in a small white house at the edge of the woods, said that birds could fly because they weighed less than clouds.   Roland knew this wasn't right. But he didn't grab his big, spiky steel mace and hit her over the head so hard that her brain shot out her earholes like lengths of gray rope.   He simply said, "No, they don't. You are wrong."   "I am not," Jenny said. Her brown curls swung as she spoke. "And you're stupid."   No boy who is almost ten likes being called stupid, especially by a girl who is only just nine and has curly hair. But Roland still didn't grab his big, spiky steel mace with both hands and bring it down like a sledgehammer over her forehead.   This was because Roland quite liked Jenny and was happy to play with her, as long as there was no one else around. It was also because he didn't have the slightest idea why birds could fly either.   Roland thought it had something to do with the feathers. However, when he tied a pile of feathers to Nudge, his pet white mouse, Nudge just curled up and looked sad.   Even throwing Nudge into the air didn't seem to help him fly. He came down at exactly the same speed as he would have without feathers. And Nudge was very lucky the ground was there to stop him, otherwise he would have kept falling.   There was one other reason Roland didn't clout Jenny Winterbottom over the head. Like many people named Jenny, she was a girl.   In the time of knights and armor, some men could be very nasty and cruel to other men. But they all tried as hard as they could to be nice to women.   There were lots of stories of men slaying dragons to rescue fair maidens. This sounded very exciting to Roland. But there were also stories of men taking off their coats and laying them over puddles, so women could walk without splashing any yucky mudon their dainty boots. That didn't sound like nearly as much fun as slaying dragons.   Behaving like this was called chivalry. Roland thought this might be because if you took off your coat on a cold day you would start chivering. Then again, Roland couldn't spell.   Anyway, for all that, Roland didn't have a spiky steel mace. He had only a small wooden one that he had made himself out of a stick and a round knob of wood from a tree root.   Roland wasn't allowed to have a real mace because Roland wasn't a knight.   Roland wasn't even a page, which is what you had to be before you were a squire, which was what you had to be before you were a knight. And a knight was what you had to be if you wanted to carry around a real mace and swing it at people who annoyed you.   Still, Roland loved fighting with a wooden sword, and Shelby, his older, bigger, stronger brother, had to work harder and harder to beat him.   When they were swinging their wooden swords a few days earlier, Roland stuck out his bottom lip, like he always did when he was trying hard. He thrust and lunged and swiped, hitting Shelby's sword so hard it flew out of his hand.   "Ouch," shouted Shelby, who could usually move more quickly than Roland. "That's not fair!"   "Yes, it is fair," said Roland. "Now, yield, Sir Shelby. Yield to Roland Wright--future knight."   "All right, I yield," Shelby said, falling to his knees and holding up his hands. "But you know as well as I do that you can never really be a knight. Only the children of the rich and noble become knights."   "I'm going to fight so well, they'll have to make me a knight," said Roland.   "What rot!" said Shelby. "That's not how it works. The only thing certain is that in our family I am the oldest son, so I will take over the family business. You'll have to work for me, Roland, and I'll give you the worst job I can find."   Roland lifted his sword high above his head.   "I should cut you in two, Sir Shelby," Roland said. "Or three, or four, or five. I should slice off your ears and carve up your gizzards. But I am a good knight, so I will show mercy."   Just as Roland was speaking, Shelby leapt to his feet and ran for his sword.   "So," said Shelby, picking up his wooden broadsword and swinging it wildly, "if you are a good knight, then it's good night to you."   Shelby laughed loudly at his trickery.   "That's not right," yelled Roland. "When a true knight yields, he gives his word. You'll have to die for that!"   Straightaway, the whole fight started again.   Shelby was a year and a half older than Roland, but, like his brother, Shelby couldn't spell, read or write.   They couldn't spell, read or write because there were hardly any schools in the whole country. Anyway, there was no time for sitting in classrooms because in the Middle Ages most children were expected to work.   Roland and Shelby's father, Oliver Wright, had been trained as a blacksmith from the time he was a young boy. He could spell out no more than his name. He had never even seen a book other than the handwritten Bible that the priest read from in the villagechurch. And that was in Latin.   That's not to say the Wrights weren't smart. They were very smart indeed. And on one late summer afternoon in 1409, Roland sensed that he and Shelby were about to be given an amazing chance to prove it.  

About this edition

• Publisher: Yearling
• Publication date: 2010
• ISBN 10: 0385738013
• ISBN 13: 9780385738019
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 160
• Illustrator: Rogers Gregory