Maybe a Green Knight (cont'd 2)

Maybe a Green Knight  (cont'd 2)

       Doggy the Kid

              trueth ant courteisie

No one spoke. No one stirred. And then, just as the King himself was about to meet The Green Knight's challenge, faithful Gawain rose and stepped into the middle of the room.

       "It is not the King's place to face danger when his trusted guardians surround him. I stand instead between my liege and your predation, Sir! None dare enter unchallenged the sacred domains and rooms of my King and master," he began. He reached neither for sword nor knife. No sign of fear showed in his stance. Poised, lovely in his adornments of mail and chain, he faced the swarthy green and waited. Of a sudden, impatient of an answer, in one motion Sir Gawain drew his sword and with a wide swipe severed the head of green from its fertile body. It fell to the floor with the sweepsweep of a cabbage tossed from the harvest wagon.

       To the horror of the assembly, the beheaded knight, unimpeded, stood firm as before. And he laughed, a merry laugh that resounded in the hall. "Next year," he said, "at this very day and hour, I will meet you again, Sir Gawain! I will meet you at my castle where you will be expected to find me and allow me one stroke of the sword at your head. Then, I guarantee, you will feel less inclined to mock me and laugh at my expense, if laugh at all you will!" With that, the headless villain leapt on his horse's back and galloped out the door. Those about the board sat for a minute, quiet, doubtful, and then loudly with fearsome purpose began to speculate about the identity of the vision just now disappeared. Only Gawain sate on, quiet and contemplative. A year from this hour he would lose his life. That much was clear to him.

       With only four weeks of the year left, my diminutive audience, twelve months hence, Sir Gawain rose one morning weary with unslept hours and whispering a quiet goodbye to his sleeping mate took up his sachels, sword, guires and helmet and left the rooms of King Arthur's castle for the last time. Much occurred before his journey came to an end, but suffice it to say that at the eve of Christmas he arrived at a place that he could feel had his destiny in its secrets. He had until now found no trace of the Green Knight in all the lands through which he rode. No one seemed to know of him or of his domains. Still, instinct led Gawain northward ever further into the forests and glens of  barbarous lands where neither king nor priest dwelt in all its regions. Few souls of any sort showed themselves to his eyes. Many hours often passed with neither sight nor sound of human enterprise.

       But then, my little listeners so rapt in wonder at my feet, just before midnight on the eve of the day that the savior first breathed our air, Gawain saw before him, some miles distant, a grand castle of solemn hue and wondrous height. Hastening, hoping for goodness and cheer at the hands of strangers, he came to the bridge before the castle gates and called out in a weak but willing voice. Someone on the walls hailed him in return. Before long there were introductions made, exclamations at his pitiable state and condition, and loud lamentations from the kitchen about the tardiness of all cooks and kitchen help. Wine appeared, and beer. Assorted fishes arrived baked in ovens the day before with also fresh and tasty breads and butter. Soon, Gawain felt so refreshed that he began to answer the many curious requests for information of his homeland and of his purposes. He told them his tale keeping back nothing, not even the sad fears he felt at the challenge given him to meet the knight of verdant color who was to be the instrument of his demise on New Year's Day. All who heard him wept and sighed at his heartfelt telling of such lonely tales. They mistook not the sincerity of this man for folly. They knew the courage he had shown and the resourcefulness of his journey into strange worlds of which he knew naught.

       One night, soon after his first rest in the castle, the lady of the manor came to his room, tapping at the door, entering at Sir Gawain's request, and laying down beside him on the bed. Children, you may blush at this, but she spoke so fondly of her feelings for the spirited knight that he took her in his arms and loved her till the very mechanisms of love gave out and groaned to a stop. Each night thereafter this scene of joy and fondness repeated itself until the eve of the New Year and only then did Sir Gawain confess to her his terrible dilemma. He had heard recently from the lady herself, during one of their many conversations, of a grotto to which the Green Knight would come on holy days and where he often could be found praying. Her bedfellow determined that very hour of this discovery that now the time had come for him to prepare himself for the dreaded encounter. The lady beside him lamented that she would see him no more. They held each other while Gawain tried to comfort her. Then, just before he left their bed for the last time she bade him wait. She loosened a kirtle under her bed dress and dropped them to the floor. She picked them up and gave them to the knight, announcing that they had magical powers. They would, she tearfully said, if he faithfully wore them, protect him and he surely would not suffer death from the sword of his enemy.

       Now children, do not be afraid. Good will yet come in this tale. Gawain thanked the kind lady and inquired whether she could really spare the lacy garment. Then, he left. He arrived at the grotto. He encountered the knight, green as ever, praying. He introduced himself. The Green Knight stood. Gawain lowered his head to present his neck. The Green Knight swung his sword. But, he missed! He swung again, and missed once more. The third time he swung he nicked the crown of Gawain's head. A drop of blood fell to the earth and from it sprouted, at that very instant, a rose of crimson hue. But then, to Sir Gawain's utter astonishment, the green tree of a knight began to laugh! My children, he laughed and laughed until the leaves about his person shriveled and died and fell in bunches to the ground at his feet. He said then, as if in final parting, "Sir, and how did you enjoy the company of my wife all these many nights?"

       Bright with shame, green with surprise, Sir Gawain leapt on his steed and galloped hard for home. Galloped hard back to the civilized world.