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Authors: Katharine Kerr

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vaine whispered to Gawaine, showing a rare moment of sympa-

thy.

Though a smile curled the corners of the King*s mouth, he did

not look ready to summon the food. At that moment Gawaine's

belly growled again, not quite so loudly, and many other stom-

achs rumbled in sympathy.

Gawaine set aside his mead cup, and rose to his feet. In a ring-

ing voice he cried out, "Uncle, send for the food, and I shall tell

you and this assembly of a right marvelous adventure that hap-

pened to me before I became a knight!"

"So be it!" said Arthur with a tired smile. He signaled to his

hulking butler.

Cheers and the clanking of cups raised in impromptu toasts to

the king. Sir Gawaine, and the food itself filled the great hall

with noise. A line of scarlet-clad scullions bearing wooden plat-

ters heaped with steaming cuts of venison, boar, and mutton pa-

raded into the room. Two brawny cooks pushed a small cart

carrying a cauldron of bubbling turtle soup toward me center of

the hall, and small page boys offered polished wooden bowls and

spoons to all who wanted them. After placing at least one meat

platter on each table and trestle, the servers returned to the kitch-

ens, only to reappear in a few minutes carrying trays covered

with hot, roasted chickens and ducks. Some of them brought ba-

sins filled with bunches of purple grapes and ripe red apples

which they placed on every table.

Sweet grape juice trickled down Gawaine's cleanshaven chin

as he reached out with his dagger and nabbed a whole roast

chicken from the center of the table, just instants before

Dinadan's blade thwocked into the empty wood. "My apologies,

Din! I did not mean to rob you." Gawaine extended the prize to-

ward the smaller man, but Dinadan waved it off and took another

slightly smaller bird instead. "To the victor . . ." Dinadan

laughed. Gawaine pulled the hen back to his plate, sawed off a

drumstick, and took a huge bite.

40                    Ken St. Andre

Agrivaine dipped a chunk of hot bread into a puddle of dark

pork gravy, and lifted it like a scepter. "Better than the Christmas

cod feast back in Orkney, eh, brother?" He gloated for a moment

before biting into the sopping loaf.

"Christmas at home," mused Gawaine. He stopped chewing

and his eyes clouded with memory. "Remember the time that

Merlin feasted with us. Thanks, brother, I think I know what tale

can pay for this supper."

An hour later, the feasting slowed. Men groaned happily and

loosened their belts while ladies wiped their lips and discreetly

adjusted their girdles. Sir Dinadan rose on his bandy legs, wiped

the grease from his bushy mustache with his sleeve, lifted his

cup high, and called out a toast, "Drink we now to Sir Gawaine,

the courteous knight, for he has once again saved this court!"

"Keep now your promise. Nephew, and justify this feast with

your tale," commanded the king.

Gawaine arose- hi two steps he passed the bard and deftly

plucked the harp away from him. The minstrel started to protest,

but an exaggerated wink from the knight calmed him without a

word. Gawaine staggered up to the high dais (hours of imbibing

made it slightly difficult to keep his balance) and hammered on

me strings until the hall fell silent. "Hearken, my lords and la-

dies! I shall tell you of my first meeting with Merlin, the great

enchanter, and a marvelous adventure that came of it."

"I was just a lad of twelve summers when Merlin the Prophet

visited our court. He brought with him a break in the snowstorm

that had blown for all the twelve days of Christmas, and for that,

my father decided to honor him with a three-day feast.

"Merlin proved to be a popular guest. Commoners and nobles

crowded round him, offering small gifts and asking his blessing

or advice. The ladies of our court vied with each other to comb

his beard, or bring him morsels from the table. As the day turned

to evening, my father's face darkened with jealousy.

"In his wrath, my father decided to test this famed magician.

He called me forth and presented me to the Wise Man, saying,

"This is Gawaine, my first-bom son. Tell me now how he shall

die, if the future is known to you.'

" 'Lot. this is unseemly,' said Merlin. 'No man should know

me manner nor the time of his dying.'

"My father stood up and glared at his guest 'I am King! My

word is Law! My whim is command! Tell me of Gawaine's

THE TRIPLE DEATH           41

death!' And he glowered, gray eyebrows and shaggy mane of

hair putting all who saw him in mind of an ancient storm god.

" 'Very well,* Merlin agreed. 'I am your guest, and I should

obey my host, but little joy will you gain from this knowledge.'

" 'Just tell me! Tell us all!' commanded my father.

"Merlin called me to stand before him and placed his hands

atop my head and over my heart. Those hands were warm and

strong with the best-kept fingernails that I had ever seen, all of

a length, unbroken, uncracked, and not caked with dirt beneath

the nail. I felt a tingle that made my neck hairs rise on end, and

then the wizard—he was not an old man at that time—winked at

me with one eye, before turning to face my father and mother at

the head of the board.

" "This boy shall die by falling,' he intoned in a sepulchral

voice that filled the ball.

"Disappointment and dismay twisted my father's harsh fea-

tures. We kings of Orkney are warriors, and doubtless my sire

expected to hear that I would die in battle.

"My mother leaned and whispered something in his ear, and

his countenance brightened. 'Twice more shall I ask this ques-

tion, but for now let the feasting and merriment proceed.' I es-

caped happily to the table in the corner where my brothers and

I took our meals, hoping that Agrivaine, or some other child

would be the king's subject on the morrow, but on the next eve-

ning, when Lot dirtied my face and dressed me in the rags of a

peasant boy, there was nothing I could do but pretend to a churl-

ishness I did not feel.

"Merlin seemed to look right through the grime on my face.

Neither my slouch nor my ragged garments fooled him. Putting

his hand on my head, and staring my father straight in the eye,

he announced, "This boy shall die by hanging!'

" 'Is that so?' asked King Lot, and a gleam of satisfaction

came into his eyes. 'Well, I will watch his fate carefully, and he

won't go by hanging if I have anything to say about it!'

"Once more my father planned to ask his question, and the fi-

nal disguise shamed me. For the third occasion I had to play the

part of a girl—truly a galling experience for a twelve-year-old

boy who thinks he will be a warrior some day. I had a blonde

wig, a scratchy dress, a necklace made of wooden beads from

my mother's store of jewelry. They cut my fingernails and toe-

nails and painted them red. They stained my lips purple with

berry juice, and they padded my hips to make them seem wider.

It took all afternoon to dress and prepare me. My mother made

42 Ken St. Andre

me practice walking with a swaying motion. I also had to keep

my eyes discreetly downcast. The ladies really tried to make a

proper damsel of me, but I fear that I disappointed them."

Gawaine paused in his tale to take a drink while laughter rocked

the hall.

"Gawaine!" When Guinevere could speak without laughing

aloud* she went on, "You amaze me! Perhaps you would accept

an honored place among my ladies."

"Nay, ladyl" The words came out vehemently, and the queen

tinkled with laughter again. "Let me remain as I am, your true

knight and defender." The queen nodded her assent

Gawaine bowed slightly and resumed his story. "After three

days of feasting. Merlin seemed to have filled up. To my childish

eye, he looked strong and restless. He didn't even wait for the

question when my father led me forth with some story on his lips

of my being his niece from farther norm."

" 'You are quite a trickster. Lot,' he declared, 'but you don't

fool me. This boy who is trying to act like a girl to make you

happy will die by drowning!'

" 'Ah haw! I may not be a great trickster, but you are not so

clever yourself, magician! This young maid is in reality my son

Gawaine, and indeed it has been him each night when I asked

the question, but you predicted three different deaths for him.

You are a fraud. Merlin, and a charlatan who cannot remember

his own predictions from one night to the next!'

"Merlin rose to confront my father, and the two men now

stood chin to chin and eye to eye like two dogs about to attack

each other. 'You set a fine table. Lot, and I thank you for the

meat and drink, but your hospitality leaves much to be desired by

way of courtesy. Indeed, I knew it was young Gawaine each time

you asked your question, but I spoke the truth—he shall indeed

die by falling and by hanging and by drowning!'

" 'Never!' howled my father. 'My son Gawaine shall grow to

be a great warrior like his father—'

" 'Greater,' Merlin said in a voice so low that only I heard

him.

" '—the greatest in the land—'

" 'Perhaps," whispered the wizard. He took my hand and

gazed deeply into my eyes- 'Fear nothing and you shall be a

hero, Gawaine.' His words seemed to be aimed for my ears

alone, and no one else took any heed of them. '—and when he

dies, it shall be a sword that brings him down!'

" "That, too,' muttered the wizard.

THE TRIPLE DEATH            43

" 'Fake! Fraud! Your prophecies are all lies and trickery. To-

morrow you must leave my dun and never return on penalty of

death!' declared my father sternly.

" 'Why wait?' Merlin said. 'I will take my leave now, but you

Gawaine shall see me again when you least expect it!' He then

cried a word of power, and the hearthfires began to smoke so

much that the whole hall soon rilled with mists and vapors. We

all ran out into the snow to escape choking to death, but Merlin

never came out. Nor was he inside when the hall cleared. He

vanished, simply disappeared, which really puzzled my royal

sire. He felt that somehow he had been made to look like a fool,

and he always hated the wizard for showing him up.

"In fact, Sire," Gawaine addressed King Arthur directly at this

point, "my father took the field against you when you were

newly crowned more because that you were Merlin's protege,

than from any desire to be High King himself." Arthur, who had

been smiling and laughing as heartily as anyone, grew sad.

"Would that Merlin still graced this company!" he exclaimed. "I

could use his wise council in these troubled times."

"Nay, my heart," answered the Queen, "you are better off

without the old devilspawn. Surely the priests of Holy Church

would not support you so staunchly if you trafficked with a black

magician like Merlin."

"Truly, Nephew, that was a strange feasting that you de-

scribed, yet I think it does not yet justify our meal this evening,"

said Arthur.

"Wait, Sire, it gets better," Gawaine assured him. "The true

adventure and marvel is yet to be told. I need but a moment to

slake my thirst with another flagon of mead before I move on to

part two of this tale." A serving knave quickly refilled Gawaine's

cup and he downed it in one long gurgle. Setting down the

empty vessel, and speaking with a bit of a slur, Gawaine picked

up the thread of his story.

"In the years that followed, I forgot about Merlin's strange

prophecy. I grew from a gangly youth to a young warrior nearly

as large and strong as I am now.

"On Midsummer Day of my seventeenth year, I rode out hunt-

ing with only a pair of dogs and a single servant to accompany

me. I rode beneath ancient oaks covered with mistletoe, and

among thickets of furze and blackberries, up hill and down,

searching for game. Armed with sword and boarspear, I thought

myself a match for any beast I might encounter.

44 Ken St. Andre

"Deep in the forest, I met an old hermit, and stopped to speak

with him for a moment

" "lum back, young sir,* he croaked at me. 'Death haunts this

forest today.' His eyes sparkled strangely as he warned me. and

I fancied that I knew him, though I had never seen him before."

"A ragged old hermit," muttered Arthur. "Yes, he liked that

disguise."

"As I rode into the shade of a king among oak trees, a cold

breeze from nowhere riffled my hair and cloak, and for a mo-

ment it seemed that day was night—everything around me faded

to stark black and white images, and I nearly fell off my steed

with sudden dizziness. Then, as quickly as the strangeness had

come upon me, it vanished, and I recovered myself to find the

dogs leaping and barking at something in the bushes in front of

me.

"A sort of grunting came from the impenetrable foliage. I

thought my hounds had found a wild boar. To bring back such

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