The Squire, His Knight, and His Lady

by Gerald Morris

  The morning frosts grew thicker, and the skies hung low, weighed down with a winter of snow. They were all weary of traveling, but Terence wished they could wander forever. The approach of winter brought the New Year, and Gawain's part of the Green Knight's bargain grew nearer. Terence could tell from the stars that the winter solstice was near. New Year's Eve, Gawain's appointed time, would soon follow.

  Then one day they rode out of a thick evergreen forest onto a rolling dale that stretched before the most delicately constructed, most inviting castle Terence had ever seen. The turrets tapered to perfect points as they rose impossibly high into the air—the top of the central keep was actually hidden in a low cloud—and gay banners festooned every window. There was no moat, and the gate was open and unguarded.

  "What a beautiful castle!" Eileen exclaimed.

  Two riders trotted out of the castle gate and stopped, staring at the three ragged travelers, then rode near. It was a man and a woman, and both hailed the three cheerily.

  "Welcome, travelers," the man said. "You wear the weariness of many miles in your faces."

  "And many months, sir," Gawain said.

  "Then I perceive you are on quest." The man smiled. "How may I help?"

  "First," Gawain said, "perhaps you could tell us what day is today."

  "Why, do you not know?" the lady trilled mirthfully. "Indeed, you have been questing long. Today is Christmas Eve."

  Gawain raised his eyes to the skies and murmured something that Terence could not hear, then—to Terence's astonishment—quietly crossed himself, the way that the continental priests at Camelot used to do.

  "Perhaps I can help you find what you seek," the man said.

  "Indeed, I hope so, for I have little time," Gawain replied. "I seek the Green Chapel and the knight who is lord there."

  The man smiled widely and exclaimed, "Then seek no further, O knight. The Green Chapel lies not two miles from here."

  VIII. Bercilak's Keep

  Terence's heart sank. For nine months they had ridden without direction, never knowing whether they were near or far from the Green Chapel, but as the time drew near they had come smash up to it. Eileen closed her eyes and sighed softly. Even Gawain looked taken back. The woman spoke. "I pray you all to stay and celebrate this holy Christmas feast with us, if it be possible."

  Gawain looked at Eileen and Terence, then nodded. "I must go to the Green Chapel in one week's time, on New Year's Eve, but until then, we are pleased to accept your hospitality, my lady."

  The lord and lady of the castle led them into the courtyard, where a regiment of servants appeared. Grooms saw to their horses, a chattering gaggle of tirewomen swept Eileen through one door, and a bowing steward and several obsequious pages conducted Gawain and Terence through another to a gorgeously furnished chamber. The steward bowed deeply before Gawain and said, "If you have no objection, perhaps you could stay in this room, sir? This doorway across from the bed leads to a bedchamber for your squire." He cleared his throat and looked slightly pained. "Now, if I might venture one more convenience, perhaps you would accept some new clothes. You have traveled far, and some ... er ... fresh garments might be more comfortable." Gawain nodded solemnly, and the steward paced majestically from the room.

  Gawain chuckled. "What he meant was that our clothes look like a gravedigger's castoffs."

  An hour later, Gawain and Terence had washed and were elegantly dressed. Terence began arranging Gawain's armor and said, "Maybe I'll have a chance to do some real repair on this armor while we're here."

  "Why?" Gawain asked. Terence glanced at him doubtfully, then understood: Gawain would face only one more adversary in this life—the Green Knight—and that one he would face without a struggle. Terence turned away, blinking back sudden tears. "Shall we go find Eileen?" Gawain asked.

  Eileen was in a comfortable sitting room chatting politely with their host and hostess. She too had been well treated: she wore a rich blue gown over an underdress of the palest blue silk. Firelight glimmered in her hair, and Terence wondered with amazement whatever had happened to her freckles. They were gone, and she did not look at all like a child.

  "Come in, come in," their host called heartily. "Warm yourselves!" Gawain sat, and Terence stood behind his master's chair.

  "No, Terence," Gawain said. "Not this time. Sit beside me." Gawain pulled him irresistibly into a chair between him and Eileen. "I have not been so comfortable in almost a year," he said to the lord and lady.

  "If that is so, then we are content," their host said. "I am called Sir Bercilak, and this is my wife, the Lady Marion. Our home and our bounty is yours so long as you desire."

  "I shall be glad to spend this week with you. I am Sir Gawain, this is the Lady Eileen, and this is my squire Terence."

  Sir Bercilak beamed, and Lady Marion said, "We could ask no greater happiness than to entertain the Maiden's Knight. And is this indeed the fearless Terence who is praised so highly in this world? We are honored."

  Terence reddened and peeked at Eileen. Gawain said, "It is he, and he is well-deserving of whatever praise he is given. Nor could there be a more courageous questing lady than the Lady Eileen."

  Sir Bercilak laughed loudly, as if Gawain had told a joke, and declared. "We shall hear your tale at our feast! Indeed, you shall be merry with us for this week before you go on your way."

  On the first two nights of the Christmas feast, they were entertained by a wandering minstrel, who told a long and magical tale of the legendary hero Cucholinn. On the third night, at Sir Bercilak's request, Gawain told the story of their adventures. He told it from the beginning, but omitted any reference to the beheading, so that Sir Bercilak and Lady Marion might think he was meeting the Green Knight for a friendly joust. Gawain could not match the rhythmic cadences of the minstrel, but he told his story in the best courtly style, making humdrum events sound exciting and making other events, like Terence's part in the fight with the boars, seem almost superhuman. When he was done, Sir Bercilak began jovially retelling to no one in particular the parts of the tale he had liked best, and Lady Marion, ignoring her husband, proclaimed the story marvelously told.

  "Now, how will we amuse ourselves the rest of the week?" Sir Bercilak said. "Sir Gawain, have you a fancy to go a-hunting with me tomorrow?"

  Gawain shook his head apologetically. "I thank you, Sir Bercilak, but I feel I have been hunting for too long."

  "For shame, husband!" Lady Marion said gently, "that having heard of Sir Gawain's great travels you would now allow him no rest! Sir Gawain has no wish to rise with you at dawn for the chase; he shall lie abed as long as he wishes tomorrow."

  Gawain smiled and said, "Indeed, I had feared that my slothfulness since I have been with you would be noticed. In sooth, my bed has been all too comfortable."

  "You shall stay there as long as you wish!" Sir Bercilak declared. "And when you arise, you shall hunt here in the castle for whatever diversion you like. Say! I have an idea!" He paused, as if expecting to be congratulated, then said, "Sir Gawain, agree to this: whatever I capture during the day, I shall give to you at evening, and whatever you capture you shall give to me."

  "I fear you shall find yourself empty-handed at the end of the day," Gawain protested, smiling.

  "No no, I've always had good luck hunting!" Sir Bercilak said earnestly.

  "My lord," Lady Marion said, "I think Sir Gawain meant that he would have captured nothing to give to you."

  "Oh, I don't fear that! Come, Sir Gawain, is it agreed?"

  "Very well—agreed," Gawain said.

  The next morning, Terence rose shortly after dawn and looked out his window onto the gentle hills below. In the distance he saw a band of horsemen and very faintly heard the yelping of greyhounds. Sir Bercilak was already hard at the chase. He opened the door to Gawain's room a crack and peeked in. Gawain was still sound asleep. Terence dressed himself in a fine embroidered outfit and surveyed the generous breakfast that the castle servants had laid out for him.<
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  There was a light tapping on the door, and Eileen peeked in. She wore a long dress of pale yellow that just matched her hair. Terence beckoned her in and, with a vague sense of surprise, realized that he loved her. He nodded toward the tray and asked, "Would you like some breakfast?"

  "No, thank you. I've just finished my own," she said. They stood for a moment looking at each other. Then Eileen said, "You look nice this morning."

  "I look nice?" Terence gasped. "You look ... nice, too."

  The corner of Eileen's mouth quivered. "Well, I did think I looked fine this morning, but of course all you could talk about was breakfast."

  Terence grinned, feeling the awkwardness dissolve, and said, "Oh, now I understand. You don't think I look nice at all; you just said so to force me to compliment you. Vanity of vanities...."

  Eileen stuck her tongue out at him and crossed the room to the window. "Well, I will at least admit that you look cleaner than I'm used to seeing you," she said in her grandest manner.

  "What about you? I'd forgotten what color your hair was until the other day when you first washed our journey out of it."

  For some reason, this seemed sad, and they were silent for a minute, looking together out the window. At last Terence said, "What do you think you'll do now that ... now that the quest is over?"

  She shrugged slightly and said, "I don't know. What about you? I guess you'll go off to become a knight, won't you?"

  "I don't know. That's Gawain's plan for me, but once he's..." Terence felt a lump rise in his throat, and his eyes filled. "Well, being a knight was never as exciting to me as to him." Terence blinked, and a tear rolled halfway down his cheek and hung there. Wordlessly, Eileen lifted a strand of her hair and gently wiped it away. Terence could feel the softness of her hair on his cheek for several seconds afterward.

  "What will you do then?" she asked.

  "First, I'll see to you. I mean, I'll take you wherever you want."

  She colored slightly and said, "But I don't know where that is."

  "I'll take you to Camelot, then."

  Eileen smiled doubtfully, but nodded. They both realized that neither of them knew the way to Camelot anyway. Eileen rested her head very softly against Terence's shoulder and said, "Thank you."

  A faint murmur of voices came to their ears, and they both jumped and stepped apart. The door to Gawain's room was slightly open, and from within came a woman's soft laughter. Terence and Eileen looked at each other, then tiptoed to the door and peeked in. Lady Marion, in a silken nightdress, sat at the foot of Gawain's bed. Gawain held his blankets tightly across his chest. From Gawain's gestures Terence guessed that Gawain was suggesting that she wait for him in another room. Lady Marion laughed again and settled herself more comfortably at the foot of Gawain's bed. Terence and Eileen stepped away from the door and looked at each other with consternation.

  "That's not decent!" Terence whispered.

  "To say the least," Eileen agreed.

  "Should we walk in and rescue him?" Terence asked.

  Eileen frowned, then shook her head. "But that might embarrass Lady Marion. Shouldn't we let Gawain take care of it himself?"

  They discussed it for several more minutes, but in the end decided to do nothing. For the next hour, they sat in Terence's room and speculated in whispers on Lady Marion's motives. Every few minutes one would peek into Gawain's room and then return to tell the other that matters were the same.

  The murmur of voices from the next room stopped, and a moment later a door shut. Gawain called, "All right, Terence. You can come in." Terence and Eileen hurried into Gawain's chamber. Gawain glanced quizzically at Eileen and said, "Why Terence, I didn't know you had a woman in your room, too."

  "At least mine is dressed," Terence replied.

  "Tough luck."

  Terence reddened, and Eileen said coolly, "Perhaps I had best wait in the sitting room until your conversation is ready for company, Gawain."

  Gawain grinned appreciatively and bowed to her. With great dignity, Eileen left the room, and Gawain said, "You've a fine lady there, Terence."

  Terence blushed again and said, "What happened, milord?"

  Gawain stopped grinning and frowned. "Just what it looked like. The only way I could finally get rid of her was to let her give me one kiss."

  "Maybe she got the message, though," Terence suggested.

  "Nay, lad. As she left, she said Sir Bercilak would go out hunting again tomorrow, and the way she said it ... well, you understand."

  Terence nodded. "So what should you do?"

  "I don't know," Gawain said, his brow furrowed. "As Sir Bercilak's guest I can't ... well, I couldn't do anything to break faith with my host, even if I wanted to. To do so would be—"

  "Like Sir Lancelot?"

  Terence had allowed disapproval to creep into his voice, and Gawain glanced quickly at him. "Ay, lad. But Lady Marion's no Guinevere. She's witty and bright—brighter than her husband, at any rate—and I've no wish to ruin her credit with her lord by bearing tales."

  "If you don't do something, she'll be back tomorrow."

  "Let her come then," Gawain said with sudden decision. "We'll just see to it that nothing happens. Tomorrow, do what you did today. Wait in your room with the door open. I'll call if I need you to walk in and interrupt."

  Sir Bercilak returned that evening with almost a dozen deer, all of them true hunter's trophies. According to the terms of their bargain, Sir Bercilak stood in the castle court amid the pile of carcasses and grandly presented them to Gawain with his compliments. "Now," he said jovially, "what have you achieved this day to present to me?"

  "Most of what I captured today, I am loth to give you, as it is already yours. Thus I do not offer you a fine luncheon and much good wine," Gawain said. "But one thing I surely won today." Before Terence knew what was happening, Gawain stepped forward and kissed Sir Bercilak soundly on the lips.

  Sir Bercilak roared with laughter. "Faith, you've had a better day than I! I'd give much to learn where you captured that!"

  "Nay, that was no part of our bargain," Gawain said. Sir Bercilak laughed loudly again. Lady Marion, watching from a doorway, smiled.

  The next morning Sir Bercilak went hunting again, carrying a thick boar spear. Terence awoke early and dressed, then from his window pensively watched Sir Bercilak's party ride away. A servant brought in his breakfast tray and looked surprised to see him awake. A light tap came from the door, and Terence leaped across the room to open it. As he had hoped, it was Eileen, beautiful in a long gown of green silk with gold embroidery.

  She smiled. "Do you still want to share your breakfast with me?"

  He grinned. "Come along."

  She stepped to the center of the room and stopped. Then, with the resigned air of one who is prompting an imbecile, she said, "You look nice today, Terence."

  "Thank you," Terence replied. She waited, but he only grinned.

  "Domnoddy," Eileen said, chuckling. "All right, I'll say it. Do I look nice today?"

  "No, not nice. You're beautiful, Eileen."

  Eileen stood motionless. At last she said breathlessly, "That's not playing fair, Terence."

  Terence nodded. "Sorry. How about a slice of ham?"

  For a moment they busied themselves with breakfast, then Eileen said, "I tried to talk to you alone all evening. What was that all about in the courtyard yesterday?" Terence looked puzzled, and she explained. "The kiss! Who did Gawain get that kiss from? Lady Marion?"

  "Yes." Terence told her about the kiss, about Gawain's expectation that Lady Marion would return, and then explained Gawain's plan.

  "So you're stuck here until Gawain gets out of bed?" she asked. Terence nodded. "Want some company?" He nodded again, more vigorously. "All right, I'll send your steward," she said, standing. Terence gaped, and Eileen collapsed onto the bed, smothering a fit of giggles. "Of course I'll stay with you."

  "It's not that," Terence said, trying to recover his dignity. "It's just that I'm te
rrified of that toplofty steward."

  Just then they heard the thud of a door shutting firmly and the trill of a woman's laugh. Terence and Eileen froze, then simply continued their conversation in lowered voices. They talked for over an hour, about a thousand things, and all the while from Gawain's room came the murmur of light-hearted dalliance. When the conversation next door stopped, they were silent as well. Then Gawain called, "All right, Terence. She's gone."

  Terence pulled open the door and stood on the threshold. "Urn ... did you have a nice morning, milord?"

  "Pleasant enough," Gawain smiled. "And you?"

  "Oh, yes."

  Gawain nodded hello to Eileen and said, "I assume Terence has told you about our arrangement?" She nodded. "Well, it went today much as it went yesterday," he said.

  "A kiss?" Terence asked bluntly. Gawain nodded. "Do you think she's given up this time?"

  Gawain shook his head. "Sir Bercilak hunts fox tomorrow. How about a ride this afternoon?"

  So the three of them rode all afternoon along the dales, arriving back at the castle only minutes before Sir Bercilak returned. He triumphantly presented Gawain a huge black boar. There, in the growing shadow of the central keep, he and Gawain exchanged trophies again: a boar for a kiss. As he had the day before, Sir Bercilak treated the kiss as a huge joke and good-naturedly tried to guess from which of the servant girls Gawain was capturing his prizes. Terence and Eileen exchanged expressive looks, and Lady Marion laughed merrily.

  And so it was that Terence and Eileen met again the next morning to wait outside Gawain's chamber. The curious behavior of Lady Marion had distracted Terence for the past two days, but this morning he had awakened with the painful realization that tomorrow Gawain would go to the Green Chapel to die. He was quiet, and Eileen allowed him his private thoughts. Only once did she speak: "Can you tell me what you're thinking, Terence?"