The Squire, His Knight, and His Lady

by Gerald Morris

  X. The Duke of Avalon

  The sun had set behind the hills at their back, and the shadows of evening already covered Gawain, Terence, Eileen, and Sir Bercilak. But the island fortress across the channel before them stood high out of the sea, the orange evening sunlight still on it, lighting its white walls with a warm glow. The castle seemed an island of light in a sea of shadows. "Avalon," Sir Bercilak said. "And here I shall leave you. You must face the final tests alone."

  "What tests are those?" Gawain asked.

  "The Test of the Sea and the Test of the Gate. If you pass those, I shall see you again. God be with you." He turned his horse and cantered back up the darkening hill behind them.

  Eileen patted Caesar's neck and asked, "Should we try to cross now or wait until morning?"

  "Wait until morning," Terence suggested, remembering that Gawain's strength would be greater as the sun rose.

  Gawain shook his head. "No, who knows if that castle will even be there in the morning? We must go at once."

  They rode to the water's edge, but Eileen wheeled Caesar and said sharply, "There's something in there!"

  "The Test of the Sea, eh?" Terence said.

  As his answer, Gawain pointed at the water's edge. One by one, little sleek heads with human faces popped out of the surf, and little black eyes examined the three riders. Soon there were dozens of them, some almost entirely submerged and some standing in the shallows.

  "What are they?" Eileen said.

  "They look like seals," Terence said. "But they have arms and legs."

  "Ay, lad," Gawain said. "Unless I'm far off, these are the seal-people, what we call the selkies in Orkney."

  Several of the selkies pointed back up the mountain and waved their arms urgently. "They seem to want us to leave," Eileen said.

  "For our sake or theirs?" Gawain mused. Suddenly, the selkies all disappeared, leaving barely a ripple on the surface of the sea. Gawain and Terence drew their swords and looked around, but there was no danger to be seen on land. Then a different sort of head rose from the surf behind the selkies, revealing the most hideous face Terence had ever seen. It had the usual human features, but everything was grotesquely proportioned. The eyes were huge, round, lidless holes in the head; the nose jutted out a full six inches and spread back across the face almost to the ears; the lipless mouth showed huge yellow teeth that clenched and unclenched spasmodically. The creature's skin was raddled and taut with a crisscross pattern of bare and bleeding muscles, like the weaving on a cane chair. Eileen gasped. The monster raised impossibly long arms, upon which sharp, ragged fin-gers waved like winter twigs, turned its wildly gaping eyes toward them, and screeched "Who ... are ... you?"

  "I am Sir Gawain, of King Arthur's Court, the Maiden's Knight!" Gawain called in reply, in an even, measured voice, as if he were greeting a knight errant on the road.

  The thing lurched forward until the water was waistdeep, and Terence saw with surprise that it was on horseback, as the head and shaggy neck of a lean, wild-eyed roan rose from the sea before the creature. "What ... do ... you ... seek ... Sir ... Gawain?" howled the monster.

  "I seek crossing to Avalon. And who are you?"

  "I ... am ... Nuckelavee!" shrieked the creature. Every syllable seemed wrenched from within the thing, as if it were in constant, unbearable pain. "No crossing!" it cried.

  Gawain drew his sword and lifted his shield from its latch on his saddle. "Stop me, then!" he called, and he kicked Guingalet into a dead run down the beach. Slavering with delight, Nuckelavee raced forward, out of the water, and Terence realized the monster was not really riding a horse, but instead the raw and sinewy human torso grew out of the center of the horse's back, like a parasite on a tree trunk. They came together with a crash, and Nuckelavee easily plucked Gawain's shield from his grasp. With a horrible scream, the monster began tearing the shield to pieces with its nails, as if the wood and iron were paper.

  When Nuckelavee had finished, the monster roared back toward Gawain. This time Gawain dodged in his saddle as the monster came near, and Nuckelavee missed any vital spot, but where its nails had scraped against Gawain's arm the armor was curled and torn. Gawain had slashed with his sword, but on Nuckelavee's skinless sinews it was impossible to see if he had done any harm. Both wheeled and charged together again. Just before they struck, Gawain kicked his feet from the stirrups and lay backwards in his saddle. Nuckelavee's sweeping nails missed Gawain completely, and Gawain caught the monster's arm and swung himself onto its back, just behind the human-like torso. Nuckelavee reared and threw itself on its back in the sand, but Gawain clung tight. It scrambled to its feet, roared from both mouths, and galloped back toward the sea. Gawain's hand, still somehow holding his sword, rose and fell once, then twice, before they crashed into the surf and disappeared below the surface.

  Terence and Eileen watched the sea, but they saw nothing. The sun had sunk lower, so that only the topmost turret of the island castle was still lit, and the sea grew blacker every moment. "Do you see anything?" Terence asked hopelessly.

  "It's too dark," she said reassuringly. "He's probably out there, but we just can't see him."

  Terence called, but there was no answer. "He's fully armored," Terence said. "He can't swim in armor." He slumped to the beach in weary sorrow. Eileen put her hands on his shoulder and stood over him listening. After several minutes, she said, "Something's coming."

  Terence stood and raised his sword. If it was Nuckelavee returning, Terence intended to defend Eileen to the death. But it was a slender, lithe person who seemed to rise from the dark water and bring its darkness with him. "It's one of those—what did Gawain call them?—selkies," Terence said.

  The selkie stooped, as if bowing, then pointed across the channel toward the island and beckoned. They clearly were supposed to follow. Terence hesitated, looking uncertainly at Eileen. "I can't lead you into danger, Eileen," he said.

  "There may be more danger in staying here," Eileen said. "Let's go." They joined hands and stepped into the waves, now almost completely black. Immediately they were caught up by dozens of hands and whisked forward. Terence raised his sword, but even if he chose to fight, there was no one to attack. He and Eileen skimmed along the top of the water, with only their legs actually under the surface, held aloft by the soft hands of the selkies. In less time than he would have believed, Terence found Eileen and himself on the shore of the island. Nearby, gasping and coughing but certainly alive, was Gawain.

  Terence laid his sword on the beach and bowed to the selkies. "Thank you," he said. They bowed in deep homage, first to Terence, then to Gawain, and disappeared into the strait.

  "Milord?" Terence stooped over his master's shaking form.

  Gawain coughed and vomited seawater and then gazed blankly into Terence's eyes. "Am I back on the beach?"

  "No, milord. We're on the island. The selkies brought Eileen and me. And you?" Gawain shrugged weakly. Terence continued, "And Nuckelavee?"

  "At the bottom," Gawain whispered. "Dead."

  "The Test of the Sea," Eileen said quietly.

  Slowly, Gawain stood and looked up the hill at the dark castle. "And now, the Test of the Gate." They waited together on the shore until Gawain's breathing grew even again, then Gawain raised his sword and started up the slope.

  Several minutes later, panting from the climb, they came to a mighty wooden gate. Outside the gate, a ring of bright torches formed a circle of orange light. "It seems we're expected," Gawain commented.

  From within the high gate came a loud thump, then a horrible creaking, as the gate began to rise. Light spilled from the growing opening. A long human shadow took shape in the blaze of light. It was a knight, in old-fashioned armor.

  "Good evening, friend," Gawain said, in greeting. "We are three travelers, come far to this place, who beg admittance."

  The knight replied quietly, "Only by killing me can you enter this gate."

  "Sir knight, I have no wish to kill you. Is there no other way
?"

  "There are always other ways, but I know of none. Either leave this island, or prepare now to do battle."

  "Then I must do battle," Gawain said. "I am called here. I cannot leave."

  "And I," the knight said, "I am called to keep you out." The knight drew his sword and stepped forward. Gawain met him with a bow. "Have you no shield, friend?" the knight asked.

  "Nay. It was lost in another battle."

  The knight of the gate nodded and threw his own shield behind him. Then the battle was on.

  In five years of watching the best swordplay in Britain, Terence had never seen a battle to compare. Again and again, brilliant stroke was countered by brilliant parry. If Gawain's life had not been at stake, Terence would have been enraptured by the beauty and artistry of the combat. The knights fought with swords, with fists, with their bodies. It was now full dark and Gawain's strength was at its lowest point, but he held on. Chips of sliced-off armor littered the ground, and Gawain's armor hung on his frame in stiff, jagged tatters. A full moon rose, and still the battle wore on. An hour passed, then another; the combatants staggered and limped. Each time one knight would muster the strength to launch an attack, the other would somehow find the strength to repulse it.

  Twice the two knights fell and lay on the ground gasping, watching each other. But each time one would finally struggle to his feet, the other would stand as well. Terence began to hope that the fight would continue until dawn, when the sun would give Gawain strength, but the end came just before sunrise. The knight of the gate lunged, slicing downward with his sword, and Gawain's desperate parry struck the knight's gauntleted fist and disarmed him. The knight sank to his knees, almost thankfully. With one move, he removed his helm and bowed his head for the final stroke. The knight's face was lined, and his hair, once black, was silvered with age.

  "What do you await, friend?" the knight panted. "Do what you must, and do not regret it."

  Gawain lifted his sword, and braced himself, but Terence leaped forward and threw himself on the knight's neck. "No, Gawain! No!" he cried. Gawain lowered his sword. "Look at his neck, Gawain!"

  On the side of the knight's bent neck was a long scar. Gawain looked at it blankly. "What do you mean, Terence?"

  "It's the same!"

  "Same as what?"

  "Same as yours! It's identical!"

  Gawain's eyes widened, and he gazed at the scar with growing comprehension. "Friend," he asked gently, "how came you by that scar?"

  The knight raised his head and met Gawain's gaze. "By failure, friend. By unworthiness and shame."

  His fingers trembling slightly, Gawain unlaced his own helm and bared his neck, with its own livid scar. "I too," he said simply. The knight blinked with astonishment. "I shall not kill you, O knight," Gawain said, sheathing his sword. "Truly, it went to my heart to kill you when I thought you only the greatest fighter I had ever known. Now I cannot. Rise, friend." Unsteadily, the knight of the gate stood, and Gawain knelt at his feet.

  "It is well done, Sir Gawain," a voice said. "And well done, my Terence. Now you have passed the Test of the Gate." The silhouette of a man stood in the bright, open gateway. The knight of the gate bowed deeply and said, "My lord."

  The silhouette turned to the knight and said, "Such a battle has never been seen, in this world or any other. It was well fought, O Cucholinn." Terence and Gawain turned toward the knight with undisguised awe. This was Cucholinn, the hero of the old songs and stories, the child of the sun, the warrior of all ages. "Yes, Sir Gawain," the silhouette said, a smile in his voice, "Cucholinn of the great tales. But in your own world, the tales of Gawain are already surpassing those of Cucholinn. Come, you are weary. A room has been prepared for you in my castle." The silhouette stepped into the light of the torches and Terence and Gawain recognized him at once. It was the great ruler of the faeries that they had met once before in the Other World, Ganscotter the Enchanter. It was Terence's father.

  When Gawain and Terence had been to Ganscotter's castle years before, on an earlier quest, Terence had grown to love the gentle, wise, ageless ruler; but he had not known at the time that Ganscotter was his own father. He had learned that several weeks later, from the little messenger Robin. Since then, Terence had longed to see the Enchanter again and embrace him as his son. Now that he actually faced him, though, he was overcome with a sudden shyness. He could only bow beside Gawain at Ganscotter's feet.

  Then the Enchanter was gone, and several smiling ladies were helping Gawain, Terence, and Eileen into the castle and installing them in lush, opulent bedchambers. One of the ladies, Lady Audrey, informed them that there would be a banquet that evening in their honor, but that until then they were free to rest as they wished. Terence lay down on his bed and was asleep in seconds. The sun was just rising from the eastern sea.

  The shadows were already long from the west when Terence awoke to a tapping on his door. Groggy from sleep, Terence said, "Yes?"

  Eileen peeked in. Immediately Terence sat up and held out his arms. She came to him, and they held each other in silence. Then the silence dissolved as Eileen could no longer wait. "Oh, Terence! Did you recognize him? This is the castle of Ganscotter, the one you told me about, whose castle you visited once before. And I've met his daughter, Lorie, the one you said that Gawain was in love with, and she's wonderful, and did you see the clothes that they've given to me?"

  Dutifully, Terence said, "You look very nice."

  "Oh, shut up. You didn't even notice," Eileen said merrily, handing Terence a small bundle. "Here are some new clothes for you, too, and you'd better be putting them on, because the banquet begins in a few minutes. They sent me to see if you were awake. Lady Audrey says that an escort will come for us in Gawain's room—right through that door. You dress, and I'll take Gawain's clothes to him."

  Terence only nodded. The joy that overflowed in Eileen's delighted chatter also filled his breast, although more quietly. Their quest was over, Gawain was alive, Eileen was near, and Terence was home. He put on the clothes that Eileen had brought and joined her in Gawain's room. It took both of them to rouse him from his sleep, but at last Gawain was up and dressed.

  They heard a knock at the door, and Terence opened it. Waiting at the threshold was a tall woman with straight blonde hair. She said, "I have come to escort you to the master's banquet." Either her voice or her face seemed vaguely familiar to Terence. She continued, "The master thought that Squire Terence could escort the Lady Eileen, and he sent me to walk with Sir Gawain, if that is acceptable." The woman smiled toward Gawain, who was staring at her incredulously. The woman's smile deepened, and she said, "Did you think I should be thirteen years old forever, G'winn?"

  "Elaine?" Gawain whispered. The woman nodded, and then she threw herself into Gawain's arms. Terence watched the joyful reunion with awe.

  "His sister?" Eileen asked. "The one who ... died?"

  At last the brother and sister broke apart, and Gawain stammered, "But how?"

  Elaine said, "On this island it matters little whether you are alive or dead in another world. No other realm has power here. Come, the master is waiting."

  Gawain's sister led them to a large, clean, well-lighted hall with vaulted ceilings and, on all sides, great arches that led to other chambers. Through one of these arches, Terence glimpsed a banquet hall, prepared for a feast, but he barely glanced there. His eyes were drawn irresistibly to a dais in the center of the hall. There, on an oaken throne, sat Ganscotter the Enchanter, and beside him was his daughter Lorie.

  Gawain, who had entered ahead of Terence, knelt, and Terence and Eileen joined him. Elaine said, "I have brought my brother to you as you requested, my lord."

  "Thank you, my lady," Ganscotter said. "We are pleased beyond measure to entertain Sir Gawain again. You may rise." They all stood, and Ganscotter continued, "When you came before to my castle, the time that you became the Maiden's Knight, I told you that you would have another quest. Now you have completed that second quest, and I
must ask you, Sir Gawain, what you have learned from all the trials you have overcome."

  Gawain paused, collecting his thoughts, then said, "I have learned that I am weak and selfish, that I am willing to trade my honor for my life—which, here on this island, seems an insignificant prize. I am ashamed."

  Ganscotter raised one eyebrow. "Ashamed? But what of your many victories? What about your defeat of the boar-headed knight? What of your battle with the great Cucholinn?"

  "Whatever glory I earn by such victories will soon be forgotten in another hero's story."

  "Very true," said Ganscotter with a smile. "You have done well and have earned a prize. Have you any request?"

  Gawain nodded. "I have long wished to marry your daughter, if she will have me."

  Ganscotter smiled. "I cannot say nay. Lorie?"

  In a low, gorgeous voice that made Terence catch his breath, Lorie said, "I will have you, Sir Gawain."

  Ganscotter turned to Eileen. "Welcome, Lady Eileen, to my court. Forgive me that I have not introduced myself before. I am Ganscotter the Enchanter, a ruler among the faeries, and your servant." Speechless, Eileen could only curtsy. Ganscotter continued. "You have come a great distance with these travelers. Such faithfulness deserves a reward. Will you allow me to grant you a wish?" Eileen stared, incomprehending, and Ganscotter said, "What is your heart's desire?"

  Eileen curtsied again, then said, "Sir, my lord, I ... I have what I desire."

  "What is that, daughter?"

  "I have found friendship and love, sir. Sir Gawain has become my friend, and I have learned to love his squire, Terence."

  Ganscotter frowned. "Lady Eileen, you are of noble birth, the granddaughter of a noble duke. Is it seemly for you to give your love to a mere squire?"

  At Ganscotter's words, Terence blinked in surprise, and Gawain started to protest, but Lady Eileen replied, "I don't care, sir. I love Terence. I have seen him do great things, and all his mighty deeds have been to protect someone else."