The Legend of Parzival: The Epic Story of His Quest for the Grail

by Robin Cook

  “And then we discovered we were long-lost brothers,” said Feirefiz, beaming broadly. “It was as though I had been fighting myself!” He laughed and slapped Parzival on the back. Parzival smiled at his infectious enthusiasm.

  Gawain announced he had already sent a messenger to King Arthur to invite him to a banquet, and soon there was a flurry of activity as the preparations began. Trestle tables appeared covered in dazzling white cloths, couches and cushions were provided to make the ladies comfortable, and beautiful silken tapestries were suspended from poles to give a festive appearance to the scene.

  When King Arthur and Queen Guinevere arrived, to the beat of drums and the silvery tone of trumpets, Feirefiz declared it the most splendid entrance he had ever seen. He was deeply impressed by the pageantry and colour, and was all the more grateful for the honour Arthur accorded him. He received a kiss from the queen, and then he was greeted by King Gramoflanz and the beauteous Itonje. When he sat down he was flattered to find himself conversing with Orgeluse and Gawain’s sister, Cundry. Then King Arthur addressed him.

  “There is no one from Eastern lands who exceeds your reputation. It is a great honour for me to be able to welcome you to Christendom.”

  “I have had the great good fortune, which Allah has granted me, to find my way to your court. You are famed far and wide, and I am the first from the Eastern empires to be able to meet you,” said Feirefiz.

  “You have already met some of our greatest knights, but did you know Parzival has undertaken the greatest quest of all, that of the Holy Grail?”

  Feirefiz had to admit he had not heard this, and, from his expression it seemed he did not know what was meant by it. So Arthur brought the conversation back to Feirefiz himself, saying, “Tell us more of yourself and your followers.”

  Feirefiz was delighted to regale the company with details of his war-like accomplishments and entertained them with stories of such men as King Papiris of Trogodjante and Duke Farjelastis of Affrike. All marvelled at the exotic names and places, and Feirefiz basked in the admiration and interest. Then he asked Parzival about his victories, who told his brother of King Schirniel and his brother Mirabel of Avendroyn, and Count Karfodyas of Tripparun, whom he had humbled before a great crowd at Arles. Feirefiz was delighted at his brother’s feats of arms and set about lavishing gifts on all the assembled company Then King Arthur decided to convene the Round Table in order to admit Feirefiz, Gramoflanz and Lischois.

  This took place the following day with all the splendour one would expect. The knights and ladies were arranged in a great circle, and they took the opportunity to dress in their country’s best fashion, so a colourful display greeted the three new knights. At the opposite side of the circle were King Arthur, Sir Gawain and Sir Parzival.

  Suddenly, another figure was seen approaching from a different quarter. Everybody knew who it was. It was Cundrie la Sorciere, dressed in rich garments, bearing the turtle dove, the insignia of the Grail. Silence descended as she dismounted in front of King Arthur and knelt in front of Parzival.

  “I beg that you give me greeting.” Her head remained bowed as her harsh voice rang round the circle.

  Parzival looked gravely at her, she who had brought him the greatest humiliation of his life, and then, leaning forward, he took her hand and lifted her up. A smile illuminated her coarse features as she stepped back and said, “Blessed are you, Parzival, son of Gahmuret and Herzeleide. Welcome to you, the noble Feirefiz.” She paused a moment before continuing. “The inscription has appeared. You, Parzival, are to be Lord of the Grail. It is written in the stars. The planets combine to bring your quest to conclusion. Know that Condwiramur, and your two sons, Lohengrin and Kardeis, are close by and your happiness will be fulfilled. Prepare yourself to say the word that will heal Anfortas, the Fisher King, for now you have, through all the years of trial and endurance, acquired the forces that can imbue your words with healing.”

  “Madam, I know that I was unprepared, and though your words were harsh, they were necessary. I give thanks to God that I am now deemed worthy of the Grail. Tell me when I must go.”

  “We leave in three days. But, one more thing: you must take a companion.”

  Without hesitation, Parzival turned to Feirefiz. “I take my brother.”

  The ceremony went on and then all celebrated the remarkable events they had witnessed. Parzival sat with Gawain and Feirefiz and told them much of what he had learnt from Trevrezent, remembering that his encounter with the hermit had been the turning point in his adventure.

  Three days later Cundrie la Sorciere rode away with Parzival and Feirefiz, and both Arthur’s and Feirefiz’s armies dispersed and returned to their countries.

  Chapter 16

  Meanwhile, Anfortas had continued to languish in pain and suffering, and he often felt there was no hope that it would ever end. The Grail knights continued to help him in any way they could and regularly took him to the Grail ceremony so he could be assured that his struggle was not in vain. Even so, he sometimes said they should just leave him to die and that they showed no understanding of his constant pain. At other times he knew he had to carry on and trust to the wisdom of the stars. After all, had not his brother Trevrezent told him that he who had come, but failed on his first attempt, would come again and then he would be able to ask the Healing Question?

  Sometimes, for days at a time, Anfortas seemed barely conscious, and the knights would carry him to the Grail ceremony whether he knew it or not. Then they realised a crisis was approaching, for Anfortas’s wound became worse. The suppurating smell of decay meant they had to sprinkle nutmeg, cardamom and cloves on the floors and carpets to abate the stench. They burnt ambergris and theriac, and searched for the most exotic precious stones, such as hephaestitis and androdragma, in the hope that their powers might relieve his pain.

  Such was the situation when Parzival and Feirefiz, guided by Cundrie la Sorciere, approached Montsalvaesche. A squadron of Grail knights galloped out but stopped their charge when they saw the turtle doves embroidered on Cundrie’s cloak. They greeted them joyfully and escorted them to the castle, where preparations were quickly made. Magnificent robes were brought for Parzival and Feirefiz, and then they went to the chamber where Anfortas lay.

  “I have suffered agonies of expectation, wondering if you would ever come again,” said Anfortas, lying wrapped in furs on his couch. “Now it is for you to end my suffering, either by telling the knights and ladies to keep me from the Grail for seven nights and thus allowing me to die, or, if you truly are the Parzival I have awaited… then you will know what to do.” He gave a deep sigh. His eyes flickered as a stab of pain shot through him.

  Parzival wept tears of compassion and then knelt and prayed that he might be the instrument of healing. Rising, he went to Anfortas and laid his hand on his brow, saying, as he did so, “Uncle, what is your suffering?”

  Parzival held his hand there a long moment, while the power that raised Lazarus flowed through him and into Anfortas.

  The pain receded, the wound ceased to suppurate, and Anfortas’s face first relaxed and then began to shine with a transcendent beauty.

  Parzival stepped back and then looked round at the silent circle of knights and ladies. Then he and Feirefiz turned and left the room. They made a stately progress down the great stairs to the hall, where Parzival was received as king of the Grail castle.

  When this solemn ceremony was concluded, news was brought that Condwiramur and her sons were close by. The news of Parzival’s arrival at Montsalvaesche had travelled fast, and when the Duke Kyot heard it at Pelrepeire he immediately made arrangements for Condwiramur, Kardeis and Lohengrin to set off to join him. They were already at the place in the forest where Parzival had earlier seen the spots of blood in the snow that had so powerfully reminded him of his wife.

  Parzival set off to meet them immediately, accompanied by just a few knights, and was able to visit Trevrezent on the way. He naturally wanted to tell the hermit of his
success and to thank him for his help.

  “God works in mysterious ways,” said the old man when Parzival told him his story. “Through your inner struggle you have learned to understand the nature of universal being.”

  “I have begun to learn to read the starry script,” said Parzival.

  “Then you know whence your knowledge comes.”

  Parzival nodded, thanked him for his words and took his leave. He was anxious to get to Condwiramur as quickly as possible.

  They rode all night and arrived the following morning at the place where she was camped. Duke Kyot was already up as the first light of dawn spread across the glade, and he took him to Queen Condwiramur’s pavilion. When he pulled aside the tapestry at the entrance, Parzival saw his beloved wife asleep, with the two little boys by her side. As she awoke, a smile of joy spread across her beautiful features and she sprang up to embrace her husband, filled with happiness that now their long years of separation were over.

  “Welcome, my own heart’s joy!” she cried as Parzival took her in his arms. At the same time, Kardeis and Lohengrin clamoured for attention and insisted on joining the loving embrace. This was their father, about whom they had heard so many stories, returned at last. There was so much to talk about that the family spent all morning together, and it was only as the sun reached its zenith that they went out to meet all the lords and ladies who had accompanied Condwiramur from Pelrepeire. Introductions were made, and then Parzival announced that it was his intention to have Kardeis crowned as king of the lands of Norgals, Waleis and Anjou.

  As they rode back towards Montsalvaesche, they came to a part of the forest that Parzival recognised. This was surely the place where he had last met Sigune. His heart went out to her in her noble faithfulness to her dead knight Schionatulander. The noble knight had died defending Parzival’s lands before Parzival knew anything about who he was or what he had to do. Yes, this was the path he had followed, and as they went on past a pool and an overhanging rock, Parzival sensed that he would find the conclusion to her destiny.

  They approached Sigune’s lonely dwelling, which had a strange air of desertion about it. They dismounted and Parzival carefully pushed open the door. It was exactly the same: one chair, a table, a straw pallet and a crucifix on the wall in the corner. In front of it, kneeling, was the frozen form of Sigune. Condwiramur wept at the sight, for she had known her well. Duke Kyot came in to whisper to them that there was a gravestone outside, and he and Parzival went out. Together they lifted it and, sure enough, there lay the embalmed body of Schionatulander. There were few words spoken, and the two little boys looked on in silence as their father quietly supervised the laying of Sigune in the grave next to her knight. They joined in the prayers that stood for a burial service. No further words were spoken as they went to their horses, remounted and continued the journey.

  The next day they arrived at Monsalvaesche to find Feirefiz eagerly awaiting them. Condwiramur was introduced to all the nobility, and to Anfortas and Princess Repanse de Schoye. Little Lohengrin was at first afraid of the black and white skin of Feirefiz, but his uncle just laughed and joked about the little boy’s surprise. Introductions over, the company dispersed to make preparations for the Grail ceremony – the first with Parzival as the lord of the castle.

  The hall was spread with magnificent carpets and the three fireplaces burned brightly with sweet-smelling aloe wood. Thrones were set up for Parzival and Condwiramur, with Feirefiz on one side and Anfortas on the other. There was an air of solemn joy, not the sombre mood that had prevailed when Anfortas had been suffering. This time, too, when the door opened, there was no bleeding lance; instead, straightaway the procession of twenty-five maidens entered bearing all the symbolic instruments of the Grail. Finally, Repanse de Schoye, her countenance radiating divine Grace, entered bearing the Grail. Feirefiz had been mesmerised by the beauty of the maidens, but when he saw the purity of Repanse de Schoye he could do nothing but gaze in wonder. He scarcely noticed how all were fed by the Grail, but eventually he realised the cups and plates were being filled he knew not how.

  “How can this be?” he finally managed to blurt out to Anfortas.

  “It is the Grail. It feeds us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I speak of the Grail. Look, there it is before you.”

  “I see nothing, except Repanse de Schoye and an achmardi stone in her hands. But tell me who she is. When I look at her, I realise I have never known what love truly is. What is the use of all my wealth? What purpose did all that fighting have? Nothing compares with what I experience now.”

  Indeed, Feirefiz had gone quite pale as he contemplated the beauty before him. Anfortas saw how deeply affected he was.

  “I am sorry my sister is causing you such anguish. She has devoted herself to the Grail and to my welfare during my long sickness. No knight has ever ridden out on her behalf and she has offered her love to no one.”

  “Tell me how I may win her love. I must know.”

  Anfortas turned to Parzival. “See how your brother is struck by the power of the Grail and she who bears it. Yet, strange to say, he cannot see it.”

  Parzival turned towards Anfortas and saw that what he said was true, and a murmur of surprise went round the knights, wondering at this occurrence. Everybody wanted an answer to this mystery, and it came as a message from Titurel, who had heard what had happened.

  “He must be baptised,” Titurel said. “He will not see the Grail until he understands the deed of Christ.”

  “If baptism will win me the love of the Grail maiden, I will do it gladly,” responded Feirefiz.

  “Well, then,” smiled Parzival, “I will arrange that for tomorrow. But see now, our ceremony is ended.”

  All the tables were removed and the maidens of the Grail retired in due order, Feirefiz following Repanse de Schoye with loving eyes.

  At dawn the following morning, Feirefiz was received into the temple and his baptism took place. From then on he was able to see the Grail, and not long afterwards, he and Repanse de Schoye were married. It was a joyous occasion and the celebrations went on for many days.

  However, the time came when it became clear that they should leave. There was now a new impulse being sent out from the Grail castle: Feirefiz and Repanse were to travel to the East. To begin with Feirefiz begged both Parzival and Anfortas to come with them, but it was not to be. Anfortas explained that now he had been healed it was for him to dedicate his life to serving the Grail and completing what he had set out to do when he had first entered its service. Parzival was now king of Montsalvaesche and had his own responsibilities, so Feirefiz and Repanse returned to the shore where he had left his armies waiting. There he discovered that his pagan wife, Secundille, had died. He and Repanse travelled to far off India, where they had a son called John, later to be known as Prester John.

  Parzival and Condwiramur brought up their son, Lohengrin, and when he came of age he went to become the prince of Brabant and was known as the Swan Knight – but that is a story for another time.

  Copyright

  First published in 2018 by Floris Books

  This eBook edition published in 2018

  © 2018 Robin Cook

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced without the prior permission of Floris Books, Edinburgh

  www.florisbooks.co.uk

  The author has asserted his right under the Copyright Act 1988 to be identified as the Author of this Work

  British Library CIP Data available

  ISBN 978–178250–503–7

 

 

 
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