Arthurian Romances (85 page)

And the evilest creature in the world, who was directing my lord Gawain, came straight to the riverbank, then stopped and dismounted from her little dappled palfrey. On the shore she found a boat chained to a stone mooring and locked with a key. In the boat was an oar and upon the mooring was the key that locked the boat. The damsel, who had an evil heart within her breast, boarded the boat, followed by her palfrey which had done this many times before.

‘Vassal,' she said, ‘dismount and come aboard after me with your nag that's thinner than a chick; then pull up the ship's anchor, for you'll soon be in a real dilemma if you don't cross over this water quickly, or get away at once.'

‘Tell me, damsel, why is that?'

‘Don't you see what I see, sir knight? If you saw it, you'd flee at once.'

My lord Gawain immediately turned his head, saw a knight coming across the clearing in full armour, and asked the maiden: ‘Now, if you don't mind, tell me who that is, seated upon my own horse that was stolen from me by the traitor whose wounds I healed this morning?'

‘By Saint Martin, I'll tell you,' said the maiden gaily, ‘but you can be sure that nothing would make me tell you if I saw it could help you at all. But since I am sure he comes to do you ill, I'll not hide his identity from you: he is the nephew of Greoreas, sent here by him to follow you. And I'll tell you why, since you've asked me: his uncle has ordered him to pursue you until he's killed you and brought him back your head. This is why I urge you to dismount unless you want to wait and be killed. Climb aboard and escape.'

‘I'd surely never flee because of him, damsel. No, I'll wait for him here.'

‘I shall certainly not try to stop you,' said the damsel. ‘I'll hold my peace, because you'll put on a fine show before all those comely and attractive maidens leaning out of those windows over there. Your presence makes the game more exciting and they've come here on your account. You can imagine how happy they'll be when they see you stumble! You look just like a gallant knight ready to joust with another.'

‘Whatever it might cost me, maiden, I'll never flinch, but will go straight to meet him because I should be most happy if I could recover my horse.'

Then he headed for the clearing and turned his nag's head towards the knight who was spurring across the sands. My lord Gawain awaited him, and thrust his feet so forcefully into the stirrups that he broke the left one clean off; so he abandoned the right one and awaited the knight just as he was, for the nag refused to budge: no matter how hard he spurred, he could not get it to move.

‘Alas!' he said. ‘A nag is a poor mount for a knight when he wants to joust!'

Meanwhile the other knight charged directly towards him on his surefooted steed and struck him such a blow with his lance that it bent, then shattered to pieces, leaving the point in Gawain's shield. And my lord Gawain struck the upper edge of his shield, hitting it so hard that his lance passed through the shield and hauberk, upending him on to the fine sand. Then my lord Gawain reached out, took hold of his horse, and leapt into the saddle. This good fortune delighted him: his heart was so filled with joy that never in his life had he been so encouraged by one such success. He returned to the maiden, who had got into the boat, but he did not find either her or the boat. He was most displeased to have lost track of her, for he did not know what had become of her.

While Gawain was still thinking about the maiden, he saw a punt heading towards him from the direction of the castle, piloted by a boatman; when he reached the shore, the boatman said: ‘Sir, I bring you greetings from those damsels, and they also urge you not to keep what belongs to me; return it to me, if you please.'

Gawain answered: ‘May God bless the whole company of damsels and yourself as well. I will never be the cause of your losing anything to which you have a rightful claim: I have no desire to wrong you. But what property are you requesting of me?'

‘Sir, I have seen you defeat a knight whose charger I am entitled to have. If you don't wish to wrong me, you must return the horse to me.'

‘Friend,' Gawain replied, ‘I'd be most reluctant to turn over this property to you, for then I'd have to proceed on foot.'

‘What, sir knight! Then these damsels you see will assume you to be very disloyal and will consider it most wicked of you not to return to me my property. It has never happened, nor is there any account of an occasion, that I did not get the horse of any knight defeated at this port if I knew of his defeat or, if I didn't have the horse, that I ever failed to get the defeated knight.'

My lord Gawain said to him: ‘Friend, you are free to take the knight and have him for yourself.'

‘Upon my word,' said the boatman, ‘he's not that badly injured. I think even you would have a hard time capturing him if he decided to resist you. But anyway, if you're man enough, go and capture him and bring him to me, and your debt to me will be paid.'

‘Friend, if I dismount, can I trust you to keep my horse faithfully for me?'

‘Yes, certainly,' he replied. ‘I'll keep it in trust and willingly return it to you, for I'll never wrong you in anything as long as I live – this I pledge and swear to you.'

‘And I,' said Gawain, ‘believe you on your pledge and oath.'

Immediately he climbed down from his horse and gave it to the boatman, who took it and said he would watch it faithfully. My lord Gawain set off with sword drawn towards his enemy who was at the end of his strength, for he had been deeply wounded in his side and had lost a lot of blood. My lord Gawain advanced on him.

‘Sir, there's no need to hide it from you,' said the grievously injured man, ‘I'm so badly wounded that I cannot bear any more. I've lost a great measure of blood and surrender to your mercy.'

‘Now get up from there,' said Gawain.

With great difficulty he stood up and my lord Gawain took him to the boatman, who thanked him. And my lord Gawain begged him, if he had any news of the maiden whom he had been escorting there, to tell him which direction she had taken.

He said: ‘Sir, don't concern yourself with the maiden or where she went, for she's not a maiden: she's worse than Satan, for she has had many a knight's head chopped off at this port. But if you'll heed my advice, you'll come to my house this day and accept such lodgings as I can provide. It would not be to your advantage to linger upon this shore, for this is a wild land full of great wonders.'

‘Friend, since you so advise me, I wish to heed your counsel, whatever it might bring.'

He followed the boatman's advice and, leading his horse after him, he boarded the punt and they set off and reached the other shore. The boatman's house was near the water, and was so good and comfortable that a count would be well received there. The boatman escorted his guest and his prisoner and welcomed them as grandly as he could. My lord Gawain was served with everything befitting a gentleman: he had plover and pheasant and partridge and venison for supper; and the wines were strong and clear, both white and red, young and vintage. The boatman was very happy with both his prisoner and his guest. After they had eaten, the table was removed and they washed their hands again. That night my lord Gawain's host and lodgings were to his liking, for he was very pleased and delighted with the boatman's hospitality.

In the morning, as soon as he could see the day breaking, my lord Gawain arose as he should and as was his custom. The boatman, for the sake
of friendship, also arose and the two of them went quickly to lean out at the windows of a turret. My lord Gawain gazed at the countryside, which was most beautiful: he beheld the forest and the plains and the castle on the cliff.

‘My dear host,' he said, ‘if you don't object, I'd like to ask you who is lord of this land and of that castle up there?'

And his host replied without delay: ‘Sir, I don't know.'

‘You don't know? That surprises me, because you told me you are in the service of the castle and are well paid for it, yet you don't know who is the lord of it!'

‘I can truthfully tell you,' he said, ‘that I don't know now and never have.'

‘Dear host, then tell me now who defends and guards the castle?'

‘Sir, it is well guarded by five hundred longbows and crossbows, which are always drawn and ready. They are so ingeniously set up that if anyone were to attack they would shoot indefinitely and never be exhausted. I'll tell you this much about the situation: there is a queen, a lady who is very noble, rich and wise, and of the highest lineage. The queen, with all her great treasures of gold and silver, came to dwell in this land and she had this strong manor built that you see before you. And she brought with her a lady she loves so much that she calls her queen and daughter; and this second lady herself has a daughter, who is in no way a shame or disgrace to her lineage – I don't think there's a more beautiful or gifted princess under heaven. The hall is very well protected by magic and enchantment, as you'll soon learn if it pleases you to be told.

‘A learned astronomer, whom the queen brought with her, created such a great marvel in that palace upon the hill that you've not heard the equal of it: no knight can enter there or stop for any time at all or stay alive within it if he is filled with covetousness or has within him any stain of pride or avarice. Cowards and traitors cannot endure, nor can perjurers or recreants: these all perish so quickly that they cannot live there even for a moment. Yet there are many squires within, who have come from many lands to serve here and win their arms. There are easily as many as five hundred, some with beards, others not: a hundred without beard or moustache, another hundred with growing beards, and a hundred who shave and trim their beards every week. There are a hundred with hair whiter than lamb's wool, and a hundred who are turning grey. And there are elderly ladies without husbands or lords, who have very wrongly been disinherited from lands and possessions after the deaths of their husbands; and there are orphaned damsels abiding with the two queens, who treat them with very
great respect. Such are the people who frequent the castle, and they are all awaiting an absurd, impossible event: they are waiting for a knight who'll come there to protect them, to restore their inheritances to the ladies, to give husbands to the maidens, and to make the squires knights. But the sea will turn to ice before they find a knight who can stay within the great hall, for he would have to be perfectly wise and generous, lacking all covetousness, fair and noble, bold and loyal, with no trace of wickedness or evil. If such a knight were to come there, he could rule in the hall and return their lands to the ladies and bring many wars to their ends. He could marry off the maidens, confer knighthoods on the squires, and in quick succession rid the hall of its magic spells.'

This news pleased and delighted my lord Gawain immensely.

‘My dear host,' he said, ‘let's ride down there. Have my horse and arms brought to me at once, for I don't want to tarry here any longer. I'm eager to be off.'

‘Sir, which way? As God is your protection, stay with me today, tomorrow, and a few days more.'

‘Dear host, I cannot stay at this time, but may your house be blessed! I'll go instead, with God's aid, to see the ladies up there and wonder at the marvels of the hall.'

‘Silence, my lord! Please God, you mustn't do anything so rash! Take my advice and stay here.'

‘Enough, dear host, you must think I am weak and cowardly! May God forsake my soul if I accept such advice!'

‘Upon my word, sir, I'll say no more, for it would be wasted effort. Since you're so intent upon going, you'll go, though it upsets me; and it is I who must escort you, for I assure you that no other escort would be of any use to you. But I wish to ask a boon of you.'

‘What boon, dear host? I'd like to know.'

‘First you must grant it.'

‘Dear host, I'll do your will as long as it does not cast shame upon me.'

Then he ordered them to bring him his horse from the stable, saddled and readied to ride, and he called for his arms, which were brought to him. He armed himself, mounted and set off, and the boatman in turn mounted upon his palfrey, for he intended to give him a loyal escort to where he himself was so loath to go. They rode to the foot of the stairs in front of the great hall, where they found a peg-legged man sitting alone upon a pile of freshly cut grass; his artificial leg was of silver, finely inlaid with gold and striped with alternating bands of gold and precious stones. The hands of the
peg-legged man were not idle, for he was holding a knife with which he was busily whittling a branch of ash. The man did not address those who passed in front of him, nor did they say a word to him.

The boatman drew my lord Gawain to him and asked: ‘Sir, what do you make of this peg-legged man?'

‘His artificial leg is not aspen wood, I'd swear,' said my lord Gawain. ‘From what I see, it is quite beautiful.'

‘In the name of God,' said the boatman, ‘the peg-legged man is wealthy, with large and handsome properties! You would already have heard some news that would have been most distressing were I not accompanying you and serving as your escort.'

So the two of them passed by him and came to the great hall, with its very high entry-way. Its gate was splendid and beautiful, for the hinges and catches were of pure gold, as the source testifies. One of the doors was ivory, with beautifully carved panels, the other door was ebony, likewise with carved panels, and each was highlighted by gold leaf and magical gems. The stone paving of the floor of the great hall was of many diverse colours, carefully worked and polished: green and red, dark blue and black. In the middle of the hall was a bed, in which there was not a speck of wood, for everything was gold except for the cords alone, which were entirely of silver. I am not lying about the bed, for at each point where the cords crossed there hung a little bell; over the bed was spread a large embroidered samite cover. To each of the bedposts was affixed a carbuncle, which cast as much light as four brightly burning candles. The bed's legs were carved figures of little dogs with grimacing jowls, and the dogs were set on four wheels which rolled so easily that you could push the bed with one finger and roll it all the way across the room. To tell the truth, the bed was so unusual that none like it had ever been made for count or king, nor ever would be. The hall was hung all around with silk, and I want you to believe me when I say the walls were not of soft plaster but marble, with such clear glass windows set high in them that if you were to look through the glass attentively, you could see everyone entering the hall and passing through the door. The glass was stained with the most costly and refulgent colours one could conceive of or create. But I do not wish to describe or tell about everything. The hall had some four hundred closed windows, and a hundred open.