Parsifal's Page (16 page)

"I'm sorry," Piers said contritely. "I'll listen now."

"Thank you. So after Gottfried had tried everything and failed, he was very angry and he cast a curse over the whole castle. He said that since he couldn't enter and see the ladies of the castle, no one should see them." Piers frowned, puzzled, but was careful not to speak. Ariel explained, "He made the women invisible, like ghosts. So you see, they were all around you when you got here, but you just couldn't see them."

Piers shivered and glanced involuntarily about the
room. Ariel giggled. "They're all better, now, silly. And there's another part of the curse. Gottfried said that if he was to be denied a bed in this castle, then it would be a bed that held them captive. So he did a great magic and made the marvelous bed appear in the middle hall, and then he arranged for all the other things, like the slings and the crossbows and the lion."

"But that doesn't make sense!" Piers protested, unable to stay silent any longer. "How could he do all that when he wasn't even able to magic his way into the castle? I mean, how could he get this wretched bed and this lion in but not himself?"

Ariel smiled ruefully. "That's just what I asked Mother when she told me the story. She said that magicians who are good at making curses aren't much good at anything else. Maybe he had only one kind of magic."

"The nastiest kind," Piers said. "And Gawain and I just walked right in without any trouble, and Gawain broke the spell."

"You can't say
that
was without any trouble," Ariel pointed out. "Mother says that Sir Gawain had more than twenty wounds."

Piers leaped to his feet, wincing as he put his weight on his ankle. In his pleasure at seeing Ariel, he had not even thought of Gawain. "Where is he? Can you take me to him?"

Ariel hesitated, then nodded. "Well, all right. He's just next door. You ... you won't tell anyone that I woke you up, will you? I mean, if there's someone with him."

Piers promised, and then limped behind Ariel into a corridor and on to the next door. Ariel opened it gently and peeked in. Looking over Ariel's head, Piers saw Nimue sitting beside a bed where Gawain lay asleep. "Excuse me, Mother," Ariel whispered. "Piers woke up and wanted to see Sir Gawain."

Nimue's eyes narrowed, and she looked suspiciously at her daughter. Piers stretched elaborately and said, "I had a very good rest, ma'am."

Nimue's lips quivered. "Very well," she said at last. Your friend is asleep, but you may come see him."

The next few weeks were a time of sheer pleasure for Piers. While Gawain recovered from his wounds and slowly regained his strength, and as soon as Piers's ankle was better, he and Ariel climbed the castle's battlements, explored the cellars (to their shared disappointment, they found no secret doors or hidden passageways, no matter how hard they looked), and swam in the river. Ariel was like a fish in the water, but more graceful. Piers felt peaceful and secure as he had not since he left home.

Sitting on the riverbank with Ariel, tossing pebbles into the current, Piers talked about his home. He told
about his grand, proud, laughing mother and his somber, but (Piers had since realized) equally proud father. He described to her the fine metalwork that his father had in his shop, and he realized that he missed the forge. "I wish I had paid more attention to my father, but all I could think of was being a squire, or at least a page."

Ariel hugged her knees, still damp from a swim, and looked curiously at Piers. "Being a page is an honorable life," she commented.

"Yes," Piers said. "But when you're done at the end of the day, you haven't anything to show for it."

Ariel looked skeptical, but all she said was, "Are you ready for another swim?"

Piers agreed at once. "Let's race to that island over there. I get a head start."

Ariel shook her head. "No, we aren't permitted on that island." Piers looked a question, but Ariel answered, "I don't know. Mother just said not to swim over there."

A few nights later, Piers was walking on the battlements with Ariel and Nimue, and as they walked in view of the island, Piers stopped and looked at it. "Nimue?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"What is on that island? Why are we not to swim there?"

Nimue leaned on the wall and looked at Piers fondly.
"You have grown up quite a bit since you started your quest, Piers. The old Piers would have been afraid to ask questions." Piers thought of Parsifal and of their failure at Munsalvaesche, and he felt a twist of guilt. Nimue continued, "That is where the Questing Garland is kept."

"The what?"

"There is a garden in the center of that island, and on the tree in the middle of that garden hangs a garland of sweet flowers. Whoever has that garland is sure to find whatever he seeks."

Piers stared at Nimue, then stared back at the island. In the growing night, it was little more than a patch of blackness in the gray river, but he stared at it as if he could catch a glimpse of the magic garland.

"But it is not so easy as all that," Nimue added. "First, there is a knight who guards it, both day and night. And second, and most important, the garland is useless to the one who takes it. It will not work unless it is given away."

Piers puzzled over this for a minute. "You mean if ... Gawain or someone went and took the garland, it wouldn't help him on his quest, but if someone else took it and gave it to ... to Gawain or someone, then it would help him find what he looks for."

Nimue's smile shone briefly in the gloom. "That's right. It is always the way in this world. Whatever you seize for yourself is worthless; only what is given
you has value. That is why you and Gawain could walk into this castle without trouble, while that poor, silly magician Gottfried could not force his way in by any means under the sun. Come, let us walk on."

The three continued on their stroll, but Piers looked over his shoulder at the dark island, and his heart beat furiously in his breast.

It was after midnight when Piers stole into Gawain's room. He did not want to disturb the knight, but he felt that he ought to have a sword, and Gawain's was the only one that he knew of. The sword slid easily into Piers's hand, and for a moment Piers marveled at how light and well-balanced it was. His interest roused, he promised himself that he would examine the sword more closely in the daylight, if he ever saw daylight again.

A minute later he had run silently down to the castle stables, where Guingalet snorted a surly welcome. The great horse was restless and in need of exercise, and it took Piers almost half an hour to saddle him and lead him out into the courtyard. Piers glanced nervously at the windows that lined the court, but there was no light except from the half-moon overhead. In a moment he and the horse were out of the castle at the riverbank.

"All right, old fellow," Piers hissed to the horse. "Your master says that you're at home in the water.
Let's see." Taking a deep breath, Piers climbed into the saddle. He felt Guingalet's muscles bunch, but the horse did not try to throw him. Piers let his breath out with a sigh. At Piers's direction, the horse plunged into the river. The water was unnaturally cold, or at least seemed that way in the darkness, and Piers clenched his teeth with the shock of it. When the water surged past his armpits, he lost his grip on the reins and had to grab the horse's mane to keep from falling, but he kept his grip on Gawain's sword. He hoped that Guingalet was going the right direction.

After a very long time, Guingalet lurched up, his hooves having struck the gravelly shore. Piers could not tell if this was the island or the opposite riverbank, but it seemed to be about the right distance from the dark mass of the castle behind him. He tethered Guingalet to a dead tree that lay on the bank and walked resolutely into the blackness of the woods.

Reminding himself that he was not a child anymore and was far too old to be frightened of the dark helped for a little while, but when things skittered through the brush at his feet, he still jumped, and his heart still pounded wildly. Thorny branches clawed at his clothes, and twice he had to stop and disentangle his hat from their briars. This was no garden, Piers reflected, but he pushed on. The wind moaned in a hollow tree beside him, and Piers's legs felt weak. He took several deep breaths and reminded himself
severely that if he was going to be afraid, he should be afraid of the very real knight who guarded the garland and not of imaginary horrors.

He stumbled out of the underbrush and found himself in a level grassy clearing. The black trees, stark against the gray night sky, formed a perfect circle around the open area. This must be the garden. Piers looked anxiously about, but he saw nothing moving. He raised Gawain's sword and slowly began to walk toward the center of the garden. Rounding a dark hedge, he stubbed his toe on something hard, and fell on his face.

"Who's there?" demanded a rough voice. Piers leaped to his feet, and saw a human shape rise from the ground. Piers had tripped over a resting knight. "Who are you?" the knight said.

"I'm ... nobody, sir," Piers stammered.

"Why are you here?" the knight demanded. The knight was as large as Gawain. "Why do you disturb my sleep?"

Piers hesitated, then replied honestly. "I was looking for an enchanted garland that will help someone achieve his quest."

"This is the place," the knight said, and he drew his sword. "I am its guardian."

Piers swallowed and held his own sword ready. "I understand, sir," he said.

The knight lowered his sword. "How old are you, boy?"

"Twelve, sir."

"Go away. I do not fight children."

"But I need the garland," Piers said.

"Nevertheless, I am sworn to defend it," the knight said. "And you cannot have it. It's hanging right over my head, and I will not move."

Piers looked up, and there it was, hanging from a thin branch of a slender sapling. The moon came out from behind a cloud suddenly, and in the white light Piers saw a vague pinkish tinge on the flowers. He saw something else, too. There was a long, exposed leather strap that extended from the knight's helm to his breastplate. It was like the armor that Sir Ither had been wearing when he rode up to Piers's father's forge. Piers thought quickly back to that scene. His father had scoffed at the armor and had pointed out that the leather strap was a fatal flaw in its design. Piers lowered his sword.

"All right, sir," he said. "Since you're in armor, and I am not, I suppose I have no choice."

"That's a sensible boy," the knight said. He too lowered his sword, and Piers leaped forward, stretching Gawain's sword out as far as he could reach. Had Gawain's sword been heavier or clumsier, Piers's inexperienced hands could never have aimed right,
but the sword went true. With a quick slash, Piers cut through the leather strap that held the helm in place.

The knight stepped quickly backwards and raised his sword again, but almost at once his hands went to his helm. Without its tether, the helm was loose on the knight's head, and it was already twisted to one side, making it hard for the knight to see. Piers ran forward, leaped up and grasped the garland, then sprinted back into the forest. He heard the knight shout behind him, but then he was in the woods where his size and quickness were to his advantage. All Piers had to do now was find Guingalet.

It took longer than he'd expected. The branches and briars whipped at his face and, again, tore at his hat, but at last Piers stumbled out of the woods onto the shore, where Guingalet stood waiting. Piers jerked the reins free from the log and threw himself into the saddle. As if he sensed Piers's urgency, Guingalet bunched his mighty muscles and launched himself into the river. Horse and rider landed with a terrific splash, and both sank for a moment completely under the surface. Panicking, Piers flailed about and lost his grip on the garland. Then Guingalet began to swim, and Piers's head came out of the water. To his left, already moving away on the current, was the garland, and Piers lunged for it, grabbing it just before it disappeared. Another few seconds of frantic splashing
and Piers was back in Guingalet's saddle, garland in one hand, sword in the other.

And far away to the left, bright in the moonlight but disappearing quickly downstream, bobbed Piers's scarlet hat.

Shivering in his wet clothes, Piers rubbed Guingalet dry in the castle stable, then hurried back to his room. There he carefully hid the garland before creeping into Gawain's room to return the sword. The sun was just rising above the horizon as he slid the great sword back into its scabbard, and in the light of the new day Piers saw a curious design at the very end of the sword's hilt. It was a familiar mark, an elaborate letter T.

Two days later, now being well enough for some exercise, Gawain joined Piers for a stroll on the battlements overlooking the river. Piers had been waiting his chance to ask Gawain where he had gotten his sword. Gawain smiled softly. "It was a gift, of course."

"Who from? Did the blacksmith who made it...?"

"No simple blacksmith ever made this sword, Piers," Gawain said with a laugh. "This is the Sword Galatine, and it was given to me years ago by none other than Nimue herself. There is no sword like it, save only Arthur's Excalibur."

"Did Nimue say where she had gotten—"

"Hang on, Piers," Gawain said abruptly. "What's going on across the river?"

Piers looked. In the broad field where Gawain had defeated Sir Lejoie and had recovered Guingalet, a long line of knights had just pulled up. There were pennants, and in the distance Piers could see wagons and still more knights.

"It's too far to make out the heraldry," Gawain mused. "But this is no simple hunting party. That looks like an army. Come on, Piers."

Over Piers's protests, Gawain put on his chain mail, belted on his sword, and headed toward the stables. "Look, Gawain, you can't go facing an army by yourself. What good can you do?" Piers argued as they crossed the courtyard.

"I'm just going to ask these people what they want, Piers, and let them know that there is at least one knight here ready to defend the castle."