by Robin Cook
Gawain hurried to mount his horse, but as he did so, he caught sight of a herb which was just the thing for the wounded knight he had left. While he took a handful of the leaves, Orgeluse turned in her saddle and called out, “What are you doing now? Why do you keep me waiting?”
“I am just collecting some of this herb. I came across a wounded knight, and this will help him.”
“My word! A doctor as well? You are full of surprises.”
They set off down the track and after only a short while Gawain heard a guttural cry from behind them. He turned to see the strangest person hurrying to catch up with them. This was difficult, as the horse he was riding was completely lame, and the man himself – well, if he was a man – was quite remarkable for his ugliness. He had more of a snout than a nose, and two great teeth stuck out from his lower jaw like a boar’s tusks. He had great hairy eyebrows and a shock of hair that stuck up like the bristles on a hedgehog. As soon as he got close enough, he began to shout at Gawain, “What are you doing? Where do you think you’re going? Do you fancy yourself as the escort to this lady? It won’t be long before you get your comeuppance. Call yourself a knight?”
By this time he had caught up with them, and he emphasised the last question by spitting on the ground. Incensed, Gawain replied, “I will not take insults from you. Keep your opinions to yourself and learn some manners.” And with that, he pushed the man, who struck back. Gawain took him by the hair and threw him on the ground.
“Let me introduce you to my squire, Malcreatiure,” said Orgeluse, a look of amusement in her eyes. Gawain was nursing his hand, as the creature’s sharp bristles had cut the ends of his fingers. “You may know his sister, Cundrie la Sorciere,” Orgeluse went on. “Anfortas sent him to me. It amuses me to see you two quarrelling.” She looked from one to the other, while Malcreatiure picked himself up, muttering imprecations under his breath, and Gawain wrapped his hand in a cloth.
Gawain could not make sense of this. Why had Anfortas sent Orgeluse a squire? What had this to do with the Grail? He knew Cundrie was the Grail Messenger, but he did not understand the connections.
Orgeluse said something to her squire in a language he did not understand and then moved off again down the track. It was not long before they came to the spot where the wounded knight was still waiting with the lady, and Gawain paused to give him the herbal remedy he had collected. Orgeluse watched from a distance. As he applied it to the wound, the knight whispered to him, “Why are you with her? She will only cause you trouble. It was because of her I ended up like this.” He looked at Gawain pleadingly. “I still need some rest. There is a monastery near here. Could you help me get there?”
Gawain nodded and went over to fetch the horse that the knight and the lady had been sharing and helped the lady on to it. As he was doing this, Orgeluse said, “Well, Sir Gawain the doctor, how are you getting on?”
At this, the knight got to his feet as quickly as he could. “You are Sir Gawain?” He seized Gawain’s horse, swung himself into the saddle and, grabbing the horse’s reins, dug in his spurs. “This is for what you owe me!” he shouted. “I am Sir Urians!” Before Gawain could do anything, the knight and the lady disappeared off down the forest track. It all happened so quickly that Gawain was left looking foolishly after them – and now he was without a horse too.
“First I thought you were a knight, then you appeared to be a doctor, and now you seem to be no more than a foot soldier,” said Orgeluse. “Which one of you is serving me now?”
Gawain looked up at her, and again, that enchanting smile swept all doubts away.
“Oh yes, without a doubt. You can mock me as much as you like, but winning your love is the most important thing in the world to me.” He went on, “I did not recognise Sir Urians; he is much changed since our last encounter. Do you know I saved his life? He was found guilty of rape and I pleaded with Arthur and Guinevere to save his life. I thought he should have the opportunity to repent. In the end he had to live and eat with the King’s hounds for a month. I thought that better than hanging, but he seems very resentful.”
He looked up and saw that Orgeluse had been listening carefully. For a moment he saw something else flit across her features, a noble look, but then it was gone.
“He won’t get away for long. This is my country and he is in my power – as are you. You better follow us along as best you can.”
She then spoke to Malcreatiure and gave him instructions in the same language as before, which Gawain took to be Arabic, and he went off on foot in the direction Sir Urians had taken. Gawain went over to look at the only horse left, and a very sorry creature it turned out to be. Not only was it lame, it was also sway-backed, and he wondered how long it would take his weight. With this in mind, he decided to walk and to use the horse only to carry his lance, shield and helmet. Gawain now found Orgeluse openly laughing, although, it was not immediately clear whether or not it was in sympathy. He thought probably not.
“You look like a merchant!” she joked, “selling your wares with your pack horse!”
Gawain blushed in embarrassment.
“Don’t you like being teased? You must admit, you are a man of many parts: knight, doctor, foot-soldier and now merchant.” She nudged her fine white palfrey onto the track and looked down on Gawain’s discomfiture. “Are you sure you still want to ride with me, or rather, in your case, walk?”
“I have given you my word that I will serve you, and that is what I will do, whether in happiness or sorrow, on horse or on foot, until I have shown you that it is love I bear you, and not just desire.”
She made a little disbelieving pout. “I should think it will take a long time before I believe that.”
Gawain swallowed his pride and said nothing, and followed on behind.
The track continued for a long way, and Orgeluse seemed little concerned that it was difficult for Gawain to keep up, hampered as he was by having to walk in full armour on a hot day. She appeared completely cool and calm as she elegantly rode her horse through the forest glades, occasionally urging it to trot, as though to avoid boredom, and then waiting for Gawain to catch up. He was running with sweat by the time the sun began to sink. They emerged from the woods at the edge of a meadow that sloped down to a wide and still river in which a substantial castle was perfectly reflected. The side of the castle rising out of the river was of some length, and towers and turrets at regular intervals gave it a harmonious aspect. As they approached, Gawain noticed that the only access to the castle seemed to be by ferry. The ferryman was already making his way across. As they neared the river, he could see female figures moving backwards and forwards past the castle windows, sometimes stopping to look out. Gawain was so busy looking at the ladies that he was quite surprised when he realised Orgeluse was talking to him.
“Look over there, in front of the Castle of Wonders – that is Lischois Gwelljus. You must fight him.”
He had hardly time to take in this piece of information. There had been no difficulty in finding this castle, but, as he glanced across the meadow, sure enough, there was a fully armed knight waiting to charge him. Gawain was completely taken aback – not at the prospect of a fight, but by the fact that Orgeluse was already on the ferryman’s boat and moving away.
“Why are you leaving me like this?” he called.
“You can’t come. You have to stay here.”
“Why? When shall I see you again?”
“I don’t know. It might be some time.” Then she blew him a kiss.
There was no time to think what that was supposed to mean, because Lischois was threatening to attack him. Gawain quickly switched his attentions to the coming fight. Lischois would probably not realise how decrepit his horse was in the initial charge, so he had to think of something that would be effective in the first impact. He stroked the nose of his poor old horse and whispered encouraging words in its mangy ears, before mounting swiftly and putting his lance in a defensive position. Gawain’s plan worked. As th
ey met, he swerved his horse across the path of the oncoming knight. As the horses collided there was a great thrashing of hooves and neighing of startled horses. Lischois’s charger stumbled over Gawain’s nag and both knights were sent sprawling, and although Gawain was unhorsed himself, he had been expecting it and Lischois had not. Both horses picked themselves up and trotted out of reach, leaving Gawain and Lischois on foot. The two set about each other with vigour and Lischois soon found himself being forced further and further back, towards the river, until a particularly violent blow sent his sword spinning away. Gawain moved in and gave Lischois a tremendous buffet with the haft of his sword, which laid him out flat on his back. Gawain held the point of his sword at the knight’s neck.
“Give me your oath of surrender!”
“Never! I would rather die than it be known that I have been defeated in the service of love.”
“And who is it who demands this devotion?” asked Gawain, moving the point of his sword a little away from his throat.
“I have defeated and killed many knights, and all for the beauteous Orgeluse, Duchess of Logres. You will win great fame by killing me.”
“Orgeluse!” exclaimed Gawain. He let his sword point drop towards the ground and glanced over at the Castle of Wonders. The ladies were crowding the windows, and he wondered if Orgeluse was one of them. “I serve her too. If she has witnessed this combat, she will have to acknowledge my service. I cannot kill you if you serve her too.”
He let Lischois get up.
“But I’m taking your horse,” added Gawain, and went over to fetch it. To his astonishment, he recognised it as his own horse, the one that Sir Urians had stolen. It had the turtle dove of the Grail knights branded on its hock.
“Gringuljete! Is it you?” he exclaimed, stroking the horse’s neck and patting his nose, and Gringuljete nuzzled his shoulder and seemed as pleased as Gawain to be reunited.
At that moment he heard a shout and turned to see the ferryman approaching. He explained that it was his right to claim the horse of any knight defeated in a joust on that meadow.
“You can’t have this horse,” explained Gawain. “It’s mine and was stolen from me. I had it from Duke Orilus, and Sir Urians stole it from me. You can have that old nag over there if you want – or, even better, why not take Lischois himself?”
The ferryman beamed all over his face at that prize and Gawain escorted Lischois down to the boat. As they went down, Gawain explained to the ferryman that they were both devoted to Orgeluse and one glance from her could raise him up or cast him down. At this moment he was desperate to know what had happened to her. The ferryman nodded knowingly.
“Yes, that’s all you can expect. You are in the realm of Klingsor here and that’s how it is. Up and down, back and forth, ecstasy and gloom, you never know what to expect from one day, or night, to the next. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can to help you. Make yourself at home!” He cast an expansive arm in the direction of his cottage, which was just by the jetty, and he called his son and daughter to look after Gawain.
As the ferryman took Lischois over to the castle, the son took Gawain’s horse to the stable and the daughter took him to a simple but beautiful little room. The walls were whitewashed, the window gave a view over the river to the castle, and there were fresh flowers on the sill. The young woman helped Gawain take off his armour while her brother brought in a carpet, some cushions to make up a bed and a quilt of red silk.
The ferryman soon returned and he and his wife busied themselves making a simple meal. Gawain requested that Bene, the daughter, should sit with him while they ate, and she readily agreed, and blushed most charmingly at being invited by such a great knight. She went to great lengths to serve him his food, even though there was not much: there were just three roasted larks, some white bread, a sauce and a salad of herbs. Gawain insisted that one of the larks was given to Bene’s mother.
During the meal he and Bene kept up quite a conversation, and while she told him of her life as a ferryman’s daughter and the travellers who came and went, Gawain listened attentively, asking questions from time to time, until she began to think she must be quite the most interesting person he had ever met.
Indeed, when it was time for bed, she seemed reluctant to leave his room, spending much unnecessary time arranging his cushions and quilt. However, Gawain thought this was no time for dalliance, and shortly after she left, he fell fast asleep.
Chapter 11
Gawain awoke early the following morning and immediately got up to look out of the window, for it was a fine day and he could hear the birds singing. The Castle of Wonders looked very fine in the dawn light, and the river sparkled gaily. The banks were covered in red poppies and yellow daisies and the whole scene was quite enchanting. Yet Gawain still saw women moving behind the windows. There was something a little melancholy about these imprisoned ladies. He asked Bene about them when she appeared at his door, but she reacted as though he had asked something terrible.
“Oh – I can’t talk about that. We never talk about it. Would you like something to eat?”
“Thank you very much. You are very kind, but I really want to know what the mystery of the castle is.” To his surprise, and not a little embarrassment, Bene burst into tears and covered her face with her hands. When he tried to comfort her, she cried even more and sat down on the bed. Gawain sat down next to her and put his arm round her, without in the least understanding her distress, and this was the scene that confronted her father when he arrived at the door.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Why is Bene crying?”
“I was just asking her about the ladies in the castle and she burst into tears,” said Gawain. Perhaps you can tell me?”
The ferryman’s face fell. “Don’t ask. Please, don’t ask. It is such a tale of woe. Don’t get involved.”
Gawain was even more puzzled. “I came here from King Arthur’s court seeking this adventure. Please tell me all you know.”
The ferryman heaved a deep sigh, “Be it on your own head then. Once you start asking questions about this, you’ll just get drawn in and it’ll be the end of you. You are now in Terre Merveil. This is the kingdom of the sorcerer Klingsor. That is his castle, the Castle of Wonders, and inside it is the Lit Merveil, the Wonder Bed – no, don’t smile. This is a place of powerful magic, and nobody, I repeat, nobody, has been able to break the Lit Merveil’s spell. Many have tried; all have failed.”
“That makes me all the more determined. I cannot possibly just ride on now. What else can you tell me? Can you give me any advice, anything?”
The ferryman looked down, appearing to examine his boots for some time. Then he said, “All those ladies you see at the windows are held hostage. To release them you have to master the powerful enchantment that brought them here. If you can do it, then not only will you be highly acclaimed but also the castle, its lands and the Pavilion of Splendours, which lies within its gate, will be yours. But it is next to impossible. Great knights have tried, Lischois amongst them. I cannot really tell you what to expect, but there is one thing: only the other day I ferried the slayer of Ither of Gaheviez across the river. They call him the Red Knight and he is said to be the greatest of all. But he passed by the castle; he said he was searching for the Grail.”
“Really?” Gawain was mightily surprised. “He rode by? Did he know about the adventure?”
“I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you tell him about it?”
“No, no… I couldn’t do that. I’m not allowed to do that. I’ve only told you because you asked so persistently. But please, sir, leave it alone! It’ll only bring trouble to you, and to me and my children.”
Gawain looked down at Bene, who had stopped sobbing but was still tearful, and she looked up at him pleadingly. He smiled encouragingly at her, but then said, “I’ve got to do it. Bring me my armour.”
The ferryman went out without a word and returned shortly with all Gawain’s accoutrements.
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“I’m giving you this,” he said, handing him a large shield. Gawain looked at it askance. It was at least twice as thick as his own and looked heavy. “You’ll need it,” the ferryman added, seeing Gawain’s dubious expression. “I’m just telling you all I know. When you get to the main gate, you’ll have to leave your horse there. There’ll be a merchant, selling his wares from a booth. That’s the Pavilion of Splendours I was telling you about. He will take your horse and then you should buy something from him. Now, goodbye and good luck to you.”
Gawain thanked him, but no further words were said as they made their way down to the ferry and across the river.
At the other side, Gawain mounted his horse and rode round till he came to the gate. Sure enough there was a pavilion there, so he dismounted and went inside. It was full of the most marvellous treasures. Gold and silver bracelets, ornaments and trinkets were piled in profusion. They were superbly designed, sparkling with every imaginable precious stone and decorated with such skill that a king would have been proud to own them. There was a movement at the back of the pavilion and a little man dressed in red velvet appeared. He was strange-looking, with great bushy eyebrows and dark, penetrating eyes. Gawain greeted him and asked if he could buy something.
“Yes, of course, sir. Have you been sent this way by the ferryman, by any chance?”
“Indeed,” replied Gawain.
“Ah! Then you’ve come to face the power of the Castle of Wonders! You know this is Klingsor’s realm, don’t you? Look, I can see you are not just any knight, so there’s no need to buy anything: if you succeed in passing the test, you will have it all anyway. Leave your horse with me. I’ll look after it.”
Gawain looked at him carefully. He wanted to know how far the man could be trusted.
“Don’t worry, I’ll feed and water him till you come back – if you do come back.” He gave a wry but not unfriendly grin, and then took Gawain to the back of the pavilion and lifted a flap, which revealed a stout wooden door.
