And it came to pass that the King did entrust Sir Nigel with a perilous quest, the point of which he did not make clear and the instructions to which were vague and meandering. Truth be told he just wanted Sir Nigel out of the city and away from his sister who had taken a bit of shine to the young knight.
"First you must seek out Stanislav the Stylite and give him this message," he proclaimed proffering a roll of parchment. "Then await his instruction to continue on this most noble duty, my brave Sir Knight!"
Nigel's face glowed and his haircut quivered, surely he was the King's favourite; honoured by such a sacred charge.
"Thank Christ for that," muttered Baudouin as Nigel rode off " With any luck the Turks will have 'im."
So Sir Nigel, accompanied by his Saracen guide Sal-ad-bahr, set off to find the famous holy man. It did not take long as his address was listed at the local Pilgrim Information Centre. They did not expect a warm welcome. They were quite right to do so.
For he is an hairy man, not a smooth man.
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