The Squire's Tale (3 page)

"Tomorrow," the king said, speaking to the whole room, "we shall go to war against the Five Rebel Kings. Is there anyone here who would not go with us?" A deathly hush fell on the room. It seemed to Terence as if everyone had turned to stone. The king waited for a full minute, then said, "Very well," and everyone breathed again. Arthur grinned, looking for a moment like a mischievous boy, and turned to a graying knight at his left. "Sir Ector?"

"Yes, your highness?"

"You and your knights will stay behind tomorrow to guard Camelot. Should we come to grief, you will act as regent for the kingdom. Do you understand?"

"Yes, your highness. But—" The knight swallowed and stopped.

"But what, Father?" the king asked.

The familiar title seemed to give Sir Ector courage. He said, "Is there no one else who could stay here?"

"There are many who could, but none whom I could trust so fully," Arthur replied.

Sir Ector flushed and bowed, as Kai had done, and said, "As you wish, my king."

Terence understood more than ever Gawain's admiration for King Arthur. Sir Ector and Sir Kai, Arthur's own adopted father and older brother, would clearly consider it an honor to die for their young sovereign.

"We leave at dawn, then," Arthur said. "Is there anything else for us to deliberate this evening?"

Gawain leaned forward, and Tor fidgeted, but neither spoke. Sir Kai cleared his throat and said, "There is one other matter that I know of, Arthur."

"Yes, Kai?"

"Two men joined us this afternoon wishing to be made knights of the Round Table."

"Are these men here?" the king asked.

Sir Kai nodded at Gawain and Tor, and they stood. Arthur looked at them thoughtfully, then nodded at Tor. "Come ahead, friend."

Tor stepped forward and knelt at the king's feet. Arthur said, "Rise, friend. Tell me your name."

"I am Tor, your highness," he said, standing.

"Where are you from?"

"From Hartsbeck Heath, your highness."

"And who are your parents?"

Tor's chin lifted stubbornly, and he said in a ringing voice, "My father is Aries the Cowherd, and my mother is named Kate." A hubbub of surprised conversation rose, and Arthur quelled it with his hand.

"Why do you want to be a knight, Tor?"

"It is all I am good for, your highness. I have no love for cattle, no interest in farming. My dreams have always been with the knights." A hush spread over the room, and Tor added quietly, "I have my father's leave to seek my fortune here."

"It is good you said so," Arthur said approvingly. "I would not have any son desert his father."

"To be honest, your highness, he said that I might as well leave, since I was useless to him."

Arthur laughed an easy, pleasant laugh. "Well said, Tor! Have you ever done a deed deserving of knighthood?"

"No, your highness."

"Then even if I want to, I cannot knight you. One must earn the right of knighthood at my table." Tor bowed and started to back away, but an old man in a black shawl, standing slightly behind Arthur, cleared his throat and said, "Your highness?"

Arthur turned and looked at the old man. "Yes, Merlin?"

So this was Merlin! Even in the hermitage, Terence had heard of the great enchanter. The aged magician said, "I don't mean to interfere, but you don't want to lose such a knight as this youth will become."

Arthur looked thoughtfully at Tor while the court buzzed. One voice sounded louder than the others, saying, "But the son of a cowherd?"

Merlin spoke clearly. "It is from that honest cowherd that Tor learned his courage, strength, and goodness. You see that the boy himself declares the name of Aries proudly. It is well and justly done."

Arthur spoke clearly, "Only a fool disregards Merlin. What I will do, Tor, is allow you to ride with me to the wars tomorrow. You shall be given your chance to earn what you desire."

Tor bowed again. Sir Kai leaned over and whispered in Arthur's ear. He nodded and spoke once more, "And Tor, I hope that you will let me provide you a mount."

Tor flushed with pleasure but said, "I have a horse, your highness."

The king smiled. "But it has just completed a long journey. It deserves its rest."

"Then I can only say thank you, your highness," Tor said and took his seat again. Arthur looked at Gawain, and Gawain stepped forward.

"And what is your name, friend?" Uawain.

The king's head jerked up, and he stared at Gawain eagerly. "Gawain? Of Orkney?"

"Yes, sire."

"Nephew!" Arthur cried. He leaped forward and embraced Gawain, kissing him on both cheeks. He turned back to Sir Kai and said, "I told you he would be here, didn't I? Welcome to court, Gawain! I have long wanted to meet you and offer you my friendship. Your father was a great man."

Gawain dropped to his knee and bowed his head. "My king," he began, "if it is an honor to be your nephew, it would be an even greater honor to be your knight. That is my sole desire."

"Ah," said the king, returning to his throne, "that is a different matter. Rise, Gawain, and tell me. Have you done any deeds worthy of a knight of the Round Table?"

"No, sire."

Terence could hardly believe his ears. "What about Sir Hautubris, milord?" he whispered loudly.

Immediately he knew he had made a terrible social error. Shocked faces turned toward him, and Terence realized that none of the other squires in the room had spoken a word. He blushed but kept his eyes level.

"And who are you, son?" the king asked him.

Terence gulped and said, "Terence, sir—Gawain's squire."

"I see," Arthur said. "Tell me about Sir Hautubris."

Gawain growled, "Terence!"

"No no, Gawain," Arthur said. "You must allow the king's word to take precedence. Continue, Squire Terence. Tell me about Sir Hautubris."

"Well," Terence stammered, "he was the knight who wanted to take our dinner—I mean me and milord and Trevisant—that's the Hermit of the Gentle Wood. I lived with him until milord came. And Sir Hautubris was angry because there wasn't any left. It was stew, sir," he explained.

"Go on," the king said, his eyes twinkling.

"So milord went out and told him we had just finished, but he was rude, so milord knocked him off his horse. So he got mad and tried to kill milord, and almost did, because milord didn't have any armor on—"

"You say that Gawain was wearing no armor?" the king interrupted.

"No sir, on account of being at dinner, I think," Terence said.

"Very proper," Arthur said, his lips twitching. He looked at Gawain. "And was Sir Hautubris wearing armor, nephew?"

"Yes, sire."

Arthur turned back to Terence. "Go on," he said.

"So he tried to kill milord, like I said, but he couldn't because milord kept hitting him with the stewpot."

"With the what?" Sir Kai interrupted, a grin of delight spreading over his face.

"The stewpot, sir. Milord didn't have his sword, you see, so he hit Sir Hautubris in the head with the pot."

"Continue, please," said Arthur, suppressing a smile.

"That's almost everything. Milord took Sir Hautubris's sword away from him and said he wasn't to be trusted with it—" Terence heard Sir Kai snort, but he pressed on. "But then Sir Hautubris got another sword and tried to kill him from behind, so milord killed Sir Hautubris." Terence stopped, but no one spoke. "That's all," he added.

"Is this true, Gawain?" the king asked.

"In its essentials, sire," Gawain replied.

"This is not the first time that we have heard of Sir Hautubris," Arthur said. "Not so very long ago he inconvenienced one of my knights most severely."

Gawain looked astonished. "Sir Hautubris defeated one of your knights?"

A beautifully dressed knight, in yellow stockings, stepped forward and bowed before Gawain. "If it please your worship," he said, "I must thank you for relieving my sword from its oath to revenge itself upon that same villainous knight, that passing skillful knight of prowess who did dishonor on my person. I make no doubt you found him a very demon in battle, as did I, and I salute your escape from his wrath."

"Th-thank you, Sir ... Sir..." Gawain said unsteadily.

Sir Kai coughed and said, "This is Sir Griflet, Gawain."

"Sir Griflet, then."

Sir Griflet bowed again and returned to his seat.

"In sum, then," the king said, "you fought an armed and armored knight, yourself without armor or weapon—"

"No no, he had a stewpot," Sir Kai said.

"—and defeated him with his own sword," the king continued, ignoring his foster brother, "thus preserving an honored religious man from persecution. It is a deed worthy of a knight of the Round Table." Gawain bowed his head but did not reply. The king smiled at Terence, and said, "You have a loyal squire."

"I have an ill-mannered squire," Gawain replied.

"Will you punish him for telling of this deed?"

Gawain hesitated, then shook his head. "No, sire. How could I punish him for telling what I wished to be known?"

The king burst into his clear, easy laughter and said, "Well spoken indeed! Kneel, Gawain."

Gawain knelt again, and the king drew the famous Sword Excalibur. He touched Gawain on each shoulder and on the top of his head and said, "Rise, Sir Gawain, and welcome to the Fellowship of the Round Table. Be ever true to your God; protect always your neighbor; honor always your king."

The next morning, Terence went to war. With still an hour before dawn, he had dressed and was busy helping Gawain put on armor. When all the different plates were fastened in place and Terence saw his master in full armor for the first time, he gazed in wonder.

"You
do
look fine, milord!" he said, awed.

Gawain chuckled. "Just remember — I don't wear all this to look fine."

"I'll bet that's why Sir Griflet wears his."

"Likely," Gawain said. "But Terence?"

"Yes, milord?"

"Whether he does or doesn't, don't say so outside of this room. A squire never criticizes a knight, even if the knight is a fool."

"Yes, milord." Terence waited, but Gawain did not move.

"One more thing, lad." Gawain handed Terence a small dagger in a black leather sheath. "No one should go to war without a weapon. This is yours."

Terence's eyes shone. The handle was intricately carved in the semblance of a winding serpent. He drew it from the sheath and peered fearfully at the long, wicked-looking blade. On impulse, Terence knelt at Gawain's feet and kissed his gauntlet.

"Nay, Terence," Gawain said. "Thank me by keeping it well and using it wisely. Now, let's go to war."

The war, they had discovered the night before, was against five rebel kings who refused to accept Arthur's right to rule. The King of Denmark, who controlled lands on the eastern coast of England, the King of Ireland, the King of the Vale, the King of Soleyse, and the King of the Isle of Longtains had joined into a formidable army and were marching toward Camelot. Most of the knights acted as if Arthur's army would defeat the Five Kings easily, but Arthur and Sir Kai had not joined in this confident talk.

As the marching column formed, Gawain and Terence took their assigned position at the rear, where they were joined by Tor, riding a powerful bay horse and wearing Sir Hautubris's armor, a gift from Gawain.

"Good morning, Tor!" Gawain called out cheerily.

"Good morning, Sir Gawain," Tor replied. "Hello, Terence."

"Good morning, sir," Terence said, pleased to be noticed. They trotted out of the castle, and Sir Ector's knights closed the gates behind them.

The day quickly grew hot and sultry, and the dust of the supply wagons in front of them formed a thick, gritty cloud that settled in every crease and corner. The knights rode with their visors down to filter out some of the dust, but Terence tasted grit all day. At midday the column stopped to eat a scanty meal and then was off again into the heat and dirt and sweat.

In midafternoon Sir Kai trotted back from the head of the column, his helm on his saddle. He watched for a moment, then fell into line alongside Gawain and mopped his brow with a damp rag he had tied to his wrist.

"Hello, Gawain," Sir Kai said.

"Hello, Sir Kai."

"Gawain. I've been wanting to talk to you."

"At your service," Gawain said. He raised the visor on his helm.

Sir Kai hesitated then grinned. "Did you really hit Sir Whoever with a stewpot?"

Gawain laughed. "It was all I had at hand."

Sir Kai chuckled. "I've suggested to Arthur that we should have a stewpot event at the next tournament. Better than bashing your friends off of horses with lances."

"Ay, but it would look silly," Gawain said. "No knight can endure looking silly."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. Look at Griflet and Bagdemagus and that crew."

"Tell me about this Griflet," Gawain said. "Did he really lose a fight with Sir Hautubris?"

"Hautubris, was it? Never can remember these foreign names. Well, Griflet went out questing last month—"

"Went out what?"

"Questing. After the last wars, Arthur's knights got underfoot in the castle, so now he sends them out to look for adventures. He tells them to uphold the weak and so forth. Then, when they come back, they tell about their adventures. It gets them out of the king's hair for a space." Gawain grunted softly, and Kai added, "It's good for everyone. The knights like getting away now and again. I'd like it myself sometimes if I could."

"Why can't you?"

"I'm Arthur's seneschal. Someone has to see that everyone's fed and clothed."

"I guessed, but it seems a shame. I'd say that you're a fighter."

"I am," Sir Kai said agreeably. "Except for Arthur himself, I'm the best in Camelot. Or I was until you got here." Gawain said nothing, and Kai continued. "Anyway, Griflet came back from a quest last month with a story about a ferocious knight named—what was it? Hautubris—at a bridge, demanding to combat everyone who wanted to cross."

"Rabbit-brained thing to do," Gawain observed.

"Ay. Anyway, to hear Griflet tell it, they fought like men possessed for six hours until finally this Hautubris did something treacherous—I forget what—and villainously defeated him."

"Anyone else see it?"

"No."

"Then I wonder why Griflet didn't say he'd won."

Sir Kai laughed. "Hautubris took his horse and armor. Hard to explain that if he had won."

"Tell me, Kai," Gawain said, "how did this Griflet ever get knighted?"

"It wasn't Arthur's doing. When old Leodegrance gave Arthur the round table, it came with all of Leodegrance's knights. Some of them are proper chuckleheads, too. That was why Arthur started demanding some deed before he would knight anyone."

Gawain nodded, and they rode in silence for a few minutes. Sir Kai squinted for a moment into the sun, lowering to their right. "Cursed sun," he muttered. He looked back at Gawain and said, "You've a handful of brothers, haven't you?"

"Ay. There's Gaheris, Agrivain, and little Gareth. They plan to join me here someday."

"Fighters?"

"Not a bit of it. Gareth may be someday."

Sir Kai grunted and spat. "If they can't fight, they can stay where they are. Camelot's already crawling with tournament knights. If we win this war, it'll be because of Arthur and his peasant soldiers."

Terence eased himself in his saddle and wished for a drink and a rest. He checked the sun to see how long until sunset, and a flash of light in the distant woods caught his eye. He looked again, but there was nothing.

A rapid drumming of hooves came from behind. Tor, three or four places back in the column, had ridden up and joined Gawain and Sir Kai. Sir Kai looked at him sharply. "Who told you to break ranks, boy?"

"I'm sorry, Sir Kai, but I thought I should report," he said.

"Report what?" Sir Kai said, frowning.

"Signals, sir." He pointed at the hills to the right. "Someone up there."

"A flash of light?" Sir Kai asked. "I saw it. One flash of light doesn't make a signal."

"No, sir. There was a flash in reply—back there." Tor pointed directly behind them at the plain that they had just crossed.

Sir Kai squinted at the hills for a moment, then said, "It still could be nothing."

"Yes, sir," Tor replied.

"But you did right," Sir Kai muttered absently. "They couldn't be this close, already."

Gawain cleared his throat. "If you were going to attack this column, Kai, which direction would you come from?"

"From the west," he answered. "With the sun in my opponents' eyes."

"Or from behind?" Gawain said. "Or both?"

Sir Kai pondered this, then said, "You—Tor, is it?—go back to your place. I'll call you in a moment." Tor nodded and trotted back to the column. Sir Kai looked back at Gawain, "You any good in the woods?"

"All right, but I'm not what you need. Terence here is."

Sir Kai looked at Terence. "You a woodsman?"

"I ... I grew up in the forest," Terence stammered.

"You'll come too, then," Sir Kai said. He galloped apart from the column, watched for a moment, then called out, "Scouting party forming here. Two knights, one squire! You!" he pointed at Tor. "And you!" this time at Gawain and Terence. "Fall out of line!"

Tor, Gawain, and Terence joined Sir Kai and waited until the column had passed. In a tight group, the four galloped across the plain toward the woods. As soon as they entered the forest, Terence began to feel at home. Instinctively he sorted out the various sounds in his mind. A squirrel chattered, and a hedgehog lumbered away from them.

"Now where?" Gawain asked Sir Kai.

"Up the hill, where the flashes were," he answered. They walked their horses up a slope, deeper into the forest, crashing through the thick brush. Terence no longer heard animal sounds.

"Milord?" Terence asked.

"Yes?" Gawain said.

"I could go faster on my own, milord. On foot, I mean." Gawain frowned, and Terence added, "Quieter, too."

Gawain nodded and explained to Sir Kai what Terence wanted. Terence dropped lightly from his horse and slipped into the thickest part of the brush. In a few minutes, he began to hear animals again. A mole poked its nose up at his feet, and once Terence saw a doe with a wobbly fawn. The brush thinned, the trees grew more sparse, and the smell of the pines grew stronger. Without knowing why, Terence slowed. A faint rustling to his left drew his attention. A red fox was grinning at him from inside a holly bush. Terence grinned back. "Hallo, Renard," he whispered.

"Hallo yourself, Terence," the fox said.

For a second, Terence only stared. Then he backed cautiously away. The fox did not move; it only watched and panted and looked mischievous. "And where are you off to?" the fox asked. Terence swallowed and said nothing. "Well?" the fox asked again.

"I'm ... nowhere. Going nowhere," Terence answered.

"Oh," the fox sounded disappointed. "And me thinking you were looking for that army on the next hill."

"Army?" Terence asked.

"Don't be a ninny, Terence," the fox said and began to change shape. It sprouted curly hair and two tiny horns and a pointed beard, and then out of the holly bush stepped the same little leafy figure that had chased Terence in his own forest the day he met Gawain. He grinned impishly and continued, "I'm here to help, you know."

"Who are you?" Terence stammered.

"Your friend, little though you may believe it. Look here." The green man squatted and began drawing in the dust. "We're here, and here's Gawain and the others. Right here—that's just over that hill—is the Five Kings' army. Your job is to break up that army."

"Me? By myself?"

"No, my lad. I'll be with you."

"But who are you? And how could I break up the army, anyway?"

"Trust me," the sprite said with an impish smile that did not inspire Terence with trust. "Here's what we'll do. You don't know it—in fact, only Arthur and Merlin know it—but the Five Kings do have a right to the throne. It's because of a ring, all inscribed with magic and such matters that simple peasant folk like you and me know nothing about." The little green man smiled innocently and continued. "The story is that whoever holds that ring may stand and declare his kingship over all England. The King of Longtains brought it to the alliance, and by that they make their claim against Arthur. Do you follow me?"

Terence blinked and thought for a moment. "I suppose so. But what can we do?"

"Steal the ring, lad."

"Steal it?"

"Of course. That's how Longtains got it. He took it from Uther Pendragon's treasury. So, no more talking. Let's go."

Ten minutes later, Terence and the little man crouched behind a mossy fallen tree and looked at the Five Kings' camp. "There," the green man said. "That tent in the middle, with the flag at the top. That's the kings' council tent, and there they keep the ring."

"Why don't they wear it?" Terence asked.

"They couldn't decide which one should have the honor. So they keep it in a jeweled box on the council table. Luck to you, lad." And then the little man was gone.

Terence hesitated, his mind in a whirl. He didn't know who his companion was, and he didn't trust him. One look at the little green leafy face was enough to be certain that the sprite loved mischief. But he had told the truth about the Five Kings' camp: here it was. Terence realized that he could not risk waiting. Taking a deep breath, he drew his new dagger from its sheath and slipped over the log into the camp. In a few steps he was at the council tent. Two knights strolled by him, but they paid him no mind. No one ever looked at servants and squires.

With his dagger, Terence cut a slit in the back of the tent, the glinting blade sliding through the rough canvas as if it were silk. Terence slipped through the hole, and though almost blind in the sudden gloom, he could see a jeweled box on a nearby table, just as the little man had promised. Quickly, Terence opened the box and removed the ring. Only then, his eyes adjusting to the shadows, did Terence realize he was not alone. Five bearded men dressed in rich purple and scarlet sat at a larger table a few feet away.

"Hey, put that back, boy," said one.

Terence's heart dropped and his stomach tightened. It was the Five Kings. With a gasp, he sprang backwards and dived through the hole he had cut in the tent. Shouts of "Hey! Who was that! What is he doing?" came from the tent, then "After him!"

Terence blundered into a knight, who cursed and aimed a kick at him, but Terence was already out of reach. He leaped around the maze of tents, hearing or imagining pursuit right behind him. Then he saw a row of horses, saddled and ready. Quickly he grabbed one, climbed into the saddle, and kicked it into a gallop. Only then did he look over his shoulder. No one followed. He rode into the cover of the woods and stopped, gasping for breath.

From a nearby oak came the chuckling voice of the little green man. "Right from under their noses, no less. I like a good thief, I do. But don't stop now, Terence. Here they come."

"There! In the trees!" came a shout, and then there was a rumble of horses. Terence kicked his horse into a run and held on for his life. Gawain had taught him to ride, but he had never had to ride at a dead run. Soon he had lost the reins, but he rode a war horse that was used to that. It probably thought it was leading a charge, and all Terence had to do was hold on to the saddle and duck under branches and brambles as they crashed through the forest. Twice he glanced behind him and saw five riders, growing nearer every second.