The Adventures of Sir Gawain the True (4 page)

King Arthur stared at the dwarf, speechless, for a moment, then turned on his heel and walked a good distance from the camp. His knights watched him pace and grumble and growl and take many long, deep breaths and then pace some more and, finally, plunge his head into a snowdrift for several seconds. When he returned to the others, his face was much less purple and quite a bit more damp, but he seemed to be in control of himself. "We'll make camp here," he announced. "After breakfast, we will hold council on what to do about this fellow Gologras."

At the council an hour later, Sir Gandefere advised immediate, drastic action: "Attack at once, I say!" Most of the other knights agreed.

King Arthur nodded. "I'll admit that was my first thought, too. We can't allow one noble to decide not to be part of the kingdom. If we do, then
everyone
who has a grievance or who gets tired of paying taxes will do the same. Our peace will fall apart, and we'll be right back to the bad old days of civil war and recreant knights everywhere."

"So what are we waiting for?" Sir Reynold demanded. "The fellow will swear loyalty soon enough with a sword at his neck."

"I wonder, though," mused the king, "if such an oath would really mean anything."

Sir Gawain cleared his throat. He was sitting beside Spinagras, and couldn't help remembering how promptly the dwarf had given them food when he was asked politely. "You could try talking to him first," Sir Gawain suggested. "Like Spinagras said, maybe no one's explained matters to Sir Gologras."

King Arthur looked at Gawain for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Yes, perhaps we should do that," he said.

"Well, I think it's a waste of time," grumbled Sir Gandefere, "but if that's what you want, I can go talk to him."

King Arthur looked at Sir Gawain and Sir Gawain at King Arthur. Then both looked at their feet.

"Er, that's very kind of you, Gandefere," King Arthur said, "but you've already done so much. Perhaps someone else could—"

"If you don't want Gandefere," interrupted Sir Reynold, "let me do it. I'll just go cut myself a cudgel to take along. No one's going to sneak up behind me this time."

"Ah, yes, a cudgel," King Arthur said. "Now, perhaps we should think about that."

"What's to think about?"

King Arthur hesitated, so Sir Gawain said, "Don't you think that taking a club along might give the wrong impression?"

"You think a spear would be better? A battle axe?"

"Gawain, you go," said King Arthur. "Speak to this Sir Gologras. Ask him why he won't swear loyalty to his king. Just
ask
for now, all right?"

"Yes, sire," said Sir Gawain.

When Sir Gawain arrived at the castle and met Sir Gologras himself, he knew that King Arthur had been right not to send Sir Gandefere or Sir Reynold—with or without clubs. Officially, Sir Gologras might have been a rebel against the crown, but he was the most courteous rebel Sir Gawain had ever met. Indeed, he was the most courteous
anything
Sir Gawain had ever met.

Sir Gologras greeted Sir Gawain with pleasure and led him to a comfortable parlor, warmed by a roaring fire, where he refused to let Sir Gawain talk business until he had been given a warm drink, a plate of biscuits, and some fur-lined slippers for his feet. Sir Gawain hesitated over the slippers. It wasn't that they weren't comfortable. They were. But Sir Gawain couldn't help feeling they looked odd with his armor. At last, though, Sir Gawain was allowed to speak.

"I come as an envoy from King Arthur," he began. "The king has heard that you refuse to swear loyalty to him and to his kingdom."

"Yes, that's true," Sir Gologras said, nodding.

"Er, it is?" Sir Gawain hadn't expected his host to admit his rebellion so frankly.

"But it's not just King Arthur, you know. Your king mustn't take it personally. I don't swear allegiance to anyone."

"You don't?" asked Sir Gawain. "Why not?"

"Family tradition," Sir Gologras explained. "My great-grandfather swore an oath to a neighboring lord once. They promised to protect each other in case of danger. But when danger came, my great-grandfather's neighbor broke his vow, joined the enemy, burned my great-grandfather's home to the ground, and stole everything he had. My family's worked very hard to rebuild since that disaster, and we've done quite well, I think, but we've never again trusted someone else with our promises or let anyone else make a promise to us."

"But you
can
trust King Arthur, you know," Sir Gawain assured him.

Sir Gologras smiled politely and said, "Do you care for any more sweet breads?"

"No, thank you," Sir Gawain replied. "Look here, Sir Gologras. I'm very sorry that your great grandfather had a bad experience with a solemn vow, but really, that isn't King Arthur's fault. And you must consider this: What would happen if everyone followed your example?"

"You mean if everyone worked hard and minded their own business?"

That hadn't been exactly what Sir Gawain meant. "Don't you see that without a king to keep order, some people—I mean recreant knights and so on—would choose to go about robbing and stealing and behaving very badly, the way it was before?"

Sir Gologras nodded sympathetically. "Too true. I've met people like that myself. But still—I have the family tradition to uphold."

Sir Gawain sighed sadly. He rather liked this knight. "Then I'm afraid I have to tell you that King Arthur is determined to make you swear loyalty to him, even if he has to use force. I wish you would reconsider; I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"Oh, I doubt I'll get hurt," Sir Gologras said. "I'm quite a good fighter. In fact, I've never lost a battle. In these parts, they call me Sir Gologras the Unconquered."

Sir Gawain's mouth dropped open. "Seriously? Because it's the same with me. They call me Sir Gawain the Undefeated."

"You don't say!" Sir Gologras exclaimed. "Tell me—don't you find it a nuisance?"

"A ... a nuisance?"

"You know, all those people who step out of your way when you walk by and simper and fawn over you because they're afraid you'll hurt them. That sort of nonsense."

Sir Gawain frowned. He had always rather enjoyed all that, but when Sir Gologras described it, it sounded very silly. "I hadn't really thought about it," he admitted.

Sir Gologras smiled sadly. "Tell me, Sir Gawain. How many friends do you have?"

"Dozens, I suppose. Everyone at court."

"And how many would still be your friends if you were Sir Gawain the Easily Defeated?"

Sir Gawain considered this for a long time. At last he said, "Well, there's King Arthur."

"You're lucky," Sir Gologras said. "When I ask myself that question, I can't think of even one." Sir Gologras rose to his feet. "I suppose you need to take my reply back to your king."

Sir Gawain stood, too, but he didn't move. He was still thinking about what Sir Gologras had said, about having no friends, and it seemed very sad to him. On impulse, Sir Gawain said, "Sir Gologras, I would like to be your friend. Conquered or Unconquered. Would that be all right?"

Sir Gologras blinked several times with surprise, then peered closely at Sir Gawain. His eyes held an odd expression—half amazement and half regret—but he only held out his hand. "I think I'd like that, Sir Gawain."

Sir Gawain shook his hand, then turned away to return to King Arthur. "Wait!" said Sir Gologras. "I won't go back on my family tradition, and King Arthur seems determined to make me do so, but I'd hate to go to war with my only friend. Let's see if we can avoid it. Why don't you suggest to the king that we have a single combat? I'll send one of my knights out to meet one of his knights tomorrow morning at sunrise, and we'll let their contest decide our differences."

Sir Gawain nodded. The decision-by-single-combat idea was an ancient tradition, seldom used by that time, but if the king agreed, it might prevent bloodshed. Sir Gawain left Sir Gologras, rode across the drawbridge to where the king was waiting, and delivered his message.

"Don't do it," counseled several of his knights. "We already have him outnumbered."

"Perhaps," said the king. "But he's in a castle, and we're out here. Laying siege to a fortress like this is no simple matter. If he has enough food in there, we could be camped out here for months. And a single combat
would
save lives."

"I think that's what Sir Gologras was hoping, too," Sir Gawain said. "But isn't there another way to—?"

But before he could finish, King Arthur was already calling out for the heralds to signal his acceptance of the plan.

Sir Gawain sighed and dismounted. He was glad there would not be a full-scale war, but even a single combat seemed somehow wrong to him. Then he noticed that the king and his knights were staring at him curiously. "What's the matter?" asked Sir Gawain.

"What are those?" King Arthur asked, looking at Sir Gawain's feet.

Sir Gawain looked down at his feet, still wearing Sir Gologras's furry slippers. "A gift from a friend," he replied.

All Arthur's knights seemed excited about the single combat the next day. It was just like a tournament, but with an actual purpose and a real prize. A buzz of eager anticipation swept through the camp, but Sir Gawain wanted none of it. He still felt that fighting Sir Gologras was a mistake, but no one else shared his misgivings. He looked for Spinagras, hoping that the dwarf—not being a knight—would understand his doubts, but Spinagras was nowhere to be found.

At the council that night, King Arthur explained to his knights what everyone had already heard by rumor: that at dawn the next day one champion from the king's camp would face one knight from Sir Gologras. If King Arthur's champion won, then Sir Gologras would swear allegiance to the throne. If Sir Gologras's champion won, then the king would leave him in peace.

Sir Gandefere the Nearly Undefeated leaped to his feet. "Sire, I request the honor of this battle for myself!"

King Arthur hesitated, glancing at Sir Gawain. "Er, I had thought—"

"I shall overcome him!" Sir Gandefere promised. "I am nearly undefeated, after all!"

"Well, see, that's the thing," King Arthur began. "Perhaps it would be best if—"

"I think Sir Gandefere would be an excellent choice, sire," Sir Gawain said quietly.

The king blinked. "You don't think it would be better for
you
to—"

"I find that I do not wish to fight Sir Gologras's knight, Your Highness."

There was a long silence as all King Arthur's companions stared at Sir Gawain. They had never heard him say such a thing before. Then the king closed his eyes and nodded. "Of course. Forgive me, Gawain. In my preoccupation with Sir Gologras's rebellion, I had forgotten that you have other things on your mind."

Sir Gawain realized that the king was talking about his upcoming meeting with the Green Knight. Oddly enough, Sir Gawain had almost forgotten about that, but he didn't correct the king's mistake. The king could think whatever he wanted, so long as Sir Gawain didn't have to fight the next day.