The Adventures of Sir Gawain the True (7 page)

Sir Gawain thanked the dwarf, and they both rolled over in their blankets by the fire. When Sir Gawain awoke the next morning, Spinagras was gone.

As Spinagras had promised, Sir Gawain saw the castle as soon as he came to the top of the hill. Riding toward it, he tried to remember the name of the knight who lived there—Bottleberry? Bud-puddle? something odd, anyway—but as it happened he didn't have to remember at all. As soon as he approached the gates, the drawbridge lowered and a man rushed out, calling "Yoohoo! Yoohoo! Over here!"

This man wore the strangest-looking clothes he had ever seen. Mostly green, his breeches and doublet had patches of brown and black sewn onto them in apparently random patterns. Sir Gawain raised his hand in greeting and started to speak, but the man was already talking.

"My name is Sir Bredbaddle the Huntsman. Do you know why they call me the huntsman?"

"Er, because you like to hunt?"

Sir Bredbaddle looked crestfallen. "Did someone tell you?"

"No, it was just a lucky guess," Sir Gawain said hurriedly. "I am Sir Gawain."

Sir Bredbaddle's mouth dropped open. "Sir Gawain the Undefeated?"

"Not anymore, I'm afraid," Sir Gawain said.

Sir Bredbaddle blinked. "You're not Sir Gawain anymore?"

"No, I'm ... I'm still Sir Gawain. I'm just not undefeated anymore."

"Oh!" exclaimed Sir Bredbaddle. "Why not?"

"Because I ... I got defeated," Sir Gawain explained.

"Oh, right. That would do it, wouldn't it? Well, never mind. You're still welcome in my castle. We don't get many visitors out here, so we can't be choosy." Sir Bredbaddle smiled reassuringly. "Why, we've sometimes entertained knights who have been defeated
several
times."

"Very generous of you, I'm sure."

"Oh, think nothing of it. As I say, it gets lonely out here on the moors. Will you come in? How long can you stay? A week? A month?"

"Only one night, I'm afraid. Tomorrow, on New Year's Day, I have to meet someone at the Green Chapel, which I understand is nearby."

"The Green Chapel? Oh, ay, that's three furlongs from here. But the knight who lives there is a great nasty wizardly sort. I shouldn't go if I were you."

"Nevertheless, I must."

"Suit yourself," Sir Bredbaddle said, waving his hand. "Let's go in by the fire. Aggie! Aggie! Look what I have! I have a guest! You'll never guess who it is! Aggie!"

As Sir Bredbaddle led Sir Gawain down the hall, Sir Gawain asked, "Who is Aggie?"

"My wife! Here she is!"

They entered a firelit parlor, and Sir Gawain stared at Sir Bredbaddle's wife, a beautiful woman in a golden gown gathered at her waist with a green sash. Sir Gawain knew her at once. She was the lady he had rescued from the dragon more than a year before. He bowed courteously and started to speak, but once again Sir Bredbaddle was too fast for him.

"Aggie, this is Sir Gawain the Defeated. Make him comfortable by the fire. I'll go tell the cook to toss another bird in the pot for dinner." With that, Sir Bredbaddle disappeared down a corridor.

Sir Gawain looked at the lady. "My lady, I am very glad to see you again."

"Are you?" she asked softly.

"I am. I'm afraid I was very rude to you that day when I fought the dragon. I never even asked your name."

"I am Lady Agnes."

"Oh, good. I was hoping you weren't really named Aggie."

Lady Agnes smiled. "That's only what my husband calls me."

Sir Gawain bowed again. "Then, Lady Agnes, may I beg your forgiveness for treating you so indifferently that day in the forest? I am deeply sorry."

Before Lady Agnes could reply, Sir Bredbaddle breezed back into the room. "The cook says he'll be glad to cook up another meal, but since I left you, I've had an even better idea! What do you say we provide our own dinner?"

"I beg your pardon?" asked Sir Gawain, puzzled.

"Go hunting, of course! I was just about to go out anyway, when I saw you approaching. That's why I'm in my hunting clothes! Do you like them? I designed them myself. They're all green, but with different colors, just like the colors of the woods. When I wear them you can hardly see me, because I look just like the forest. I've even invented a special name for these clothes."

Feeling that he was supposed to ask, Sir Gawain said, "What name is that?"

"I call them
clothes that when I wear them you can hardly see me, because I look just like the forest.
So what do you say? Would you like to go hunting with me? I'm a very good huntsman, you know. I'm sure we'll bag something delicious for dinner."

Sir Gawain bowed his head politely. "I thank you very much for your invitation, Sir Bredbaddle, but if you don't mind, I think I would rather not. I've been riding for many days in the open, and now that I've finally arrived at my destination, I'd rather not go back out in the cold."

Sir Bredbaddle looked crestfallen. "Are you sure? Because there's really nothing to do around here."

"Doing nothing sounds very nice, actually."

"Very well," Sir Bredbaddle said with a sigh. "Shall I stay and keep you company? Aggie hardly talks at all, so if I go hunting, you'll be stuck here in horrible quietness."

"No, Sir Bredbaddle," Sir Gawain said hastily. "Please don't change your plans on my account. I beg you: go ahead and hunt."

"But what about you, all quiet and still here by the fire? Won't it be dreadful?"

"I shall try to bear it bravely," Sir Gawain assured him.

Sir Bredbaddle shook his head with consternation. "I just don't understand! A knight is always striving, seeking, hunting! I know how it'll be! I'll leave you here, and in an hour you'll be hunting around for something to do..." Sir Bredbaddle's eyes lit up. "And I'll prove it to you! We'll have a game! I'll go hunting in the forest, and whatever I take in my hunt I'll give to you at the end of the day. You stay here, and whatever you get inside, you give to me! I'll wager you'll have nothing to show for your day! What do you say? Is it a game? Or, if you'd rather, I could stay and chat with you all day."

"It sounds like a wonderful game!" Sir Gawain said quickly. "You should go on to the hunting field at once!"

Sir Bredbaddle grasped Sir Gawain's hand and shook it vigorously. "Fine! Now, remember! Give me all you get! I'm taking it as a solemn vow!" With that, he hurried from the room.

Sir Gawain and Lady Agnes stood in silence for nearly a minute, listening to the slowly fading noise of Sir Bredbaddle's shouting voice. At last, Lady Agnes said, "When my husband came in just now, you were apologizing to me, were you not?"

"I was," replied Sir Gawain. "Can you forgive me?"

Lady Agnes gave him a speculative look. "I will admit that I was quite angry with you for some time after that day. You saved my life from the creature, but then you spoke only of yourself, refused to let me give you any token of thanks, and then rode off leaving me to find my own way home. I might have died there, and I did spend rather a lot of time imagining ways to punish you for your selfishness."

Sir Gawain waited in silence.

Lady Agnes continued. "But, yes, since you ask, I shall forgive you. Nevertheless, you must allow me to give you the tokens of thanks that I offered you before."

"Whatever you wish, my lady," Sir Gawain said humbly. "I am yours to command."

Lady Agnes stepped forward. "First, a kiss." She stood on her tiptoes before Sir Gawain and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you for saving my life, Sir Gawain." Then she untied the green sash that was around her waist. "And second, this sash. I tried to tell you a year ago, but you interrupted me. This is a magical sash, woven by my mother, the Enchantress Agostes, and the knight who wears it can never be harmed by any weapon. Please take it as a token of my gratitude." She placed the sash in his hand, smiled, then left the room.

Sir Gawain stared at the sash, open-mouthed. There in his hand lay life. With that sash, he would be able to survive the next day. The Green Knight's axe would not harm him. He could return to Arthur's court. He could see his friends again. He could live.

The rest of the day was like a dream to Sir Gawain. All the misery of the past months had faded away, and he spent hours in blissful peace, making plans for the future. Then, just as the sun was lowering in the sky, he heard a bang from the courtyard and a loud shout. Sir Gawain recognized Sir Bredbaddle's voice and strolled out to greet his jovial host. The huntsman stood proudly in the middle of the court, showing off a magnificent stag that he had felled.

"Look at this fellow, why don't you? Don't you wish you had gone hunting with me? It was a grand day!" Sir Gawain smiled and said nothing. Then Sir Bredbaddle said, "But I remember our bargain! This stag is yours. Now your turn! Give me everything
you
got today!"

Sir Gawain's heart stood still. Not once that day, basking pleasantly in the gift of life that he had received with Lady Agnes's sash, had he thought about Sir Bredbaddle's silly game. Why had he agreed to such a thing? To get rid of the irritating Sir Bredbaddle, of course. How could he have known that making such a promise would lead to this? Maybe Gologras (and Spinagras, too) had been right about the foolishness of making vows. But the vow had been made. Now, to keep his casual promise, he had to surrender the sash and face certain death. His mind reeled, but in the midst of the whirl was one idea:
A vow is a vow.
In a daze, he stepped forward and gave Sir Bredbaddle a dutiful kiss on the cheek. Then he reached for the green sash at his waist.

But Sir Bredbaddle gave him no time. He was roaring with laughter. "Oho!" he shouted gleefully, "Now I know why you stayed behind! Been hunting chambermaids, haven't you? Well, well, we all have our different specialties!" He clapped Sir Gawain heavily on the back, laughed again, then led him into the castle, exclaiming loudly, "But I won in one way, didn't I? All I had to give away was a deer, while you—you had to give me a kiss! Well, that's the price you pay, I suppose. See what comes of all that vow-making business?"

Slowly, Sir Gawain turned and stared at Sir Bredbaddle, an impossible idea taking shape in his mind.
It couldn't be
Sir Bredbaddle glanced back at him, and Sir Gawain quickly assumed a polite expression, even as his mind, suddenly clear, raced ahead, putting things together. "Yes, of course," Sir Gawain said with a smile. "You're quite right. Tell me about your hunt. Was it a difficult chase?"

Now, as Sir Gawain well knew, nothing is more gratifying to an outdoorsman than to be allowed to describe every minute of a good day in the field, and Sir Bredbaddle talked without ceasing for two hours before dinner, for another two hours during the grand venison feast that they shared that evening, and then for two hours after eating. Sir Gawain smiled and responded with polite interest and heard hardly two words. His mind was occupied with plans. He no longer had any intention of returning the green sash—at least not yet—but when? And how? He thought about it all through supper and went to bed still pondering the question, but when he awoke before dawn, he knew exactly what to do. He rose, dressed, folded the green sash carefully, and tucked it in his pocket. Leaving his weapons and armor in his room, he went out into the corridor to go knock at Sir Bredbaddle's door.

As he'd expected, he was prevented from doing so. As soon as he left his chamber, a servant approached. "Good morning, Sir Gawain," said the servant. "I was just coming to wake you."

"You were?"

"Yes, my master says you have to go to the Green Chapel today, and if you're going to the Green Chapel, you have to go at dawn."

"At dawn? Why?"

"Those are the rules of the chapel, Sir Gawain. Are you ready?"

"Isn't Sir Bredbaddle going to take me himself?"

"My master never arises early."

Sir Gawain smiled to himself and played along. "But I haven't had a chance to thank him for his hospitality. Surely it would be all right to wake him."