by Robert Irwin
He lay back on the litter and was silent for a while and doubtless he was pondering what he should say. Finally, ‘You are welcome to my castle. My lady speaks well of you and she urges me to take you into my service. If you would be willing to pledge yourself to me and renounce your former lord, you would find me a good and generous master.’
I replied that I had taken an oath of loyalty to King Edward and, though I had become lost in these northern forests, I ought to seek out my troops as soon as my horse was rested and then I should lead the men back to Norfolk.
He nodded, as if he had been expecting a reply like this. Then he said, ‘I see that you do not understand what is on offer. I can make you master of this castle and much else besides – not only lands and money. My wife is very beautiful, is she not? Now look at me. I am so sorely afflicted that you can see I will never be able to father a child. I would like to make you and any child of yours that the lady may bear my heirs, for as I look at you and as I hear about your worth, I feel that you could be like a son to me.’
I replied that I owed service to King Edward and that I would never be forsworn.
Then he said, ‘Well done! I now see that earthly things mean little to you. You were right to turn down my offer of my lands and everything in it, including my wife, for in refusing me, you have passed the second test of the castle. But know that I am guardian of the Holy Grail which is kept in this castle and I shall shortly conduct you into its presence. After I am gone, you shall be its guardian. The only thing that is necessary in order to experience this glorious vision is that you should be pure in heart and owe no service to any earthly lord.’
But I was still obstinate and said that I would remain King Edward’s man.
And at this point, Hellequin appeared. He was very cheerful.
‘Hurrah! Now you really have passed the second ordeal.’
And he signalled to the Maimed King that he should go. The King, who was very angry, rose from the litter and, fending off the porters’ attempts to assist him, scuttled away. He was bent double and I thought that in his dark robes he somewhat resembled a black beetle.
Hellequin continued, ‘Since you have passed the second test, the gerfalcon, which is kept mewed in a neighbouring castle, will be fetched and the lady of the castle will present you with it tomorrow and then you may be on your way south.’
Saluting me gravely, he then departed and, after a while, the armourer and I resumed our fencing.
At dinner that night, Hellequin talked about falconry and especially about hunting with gerfalcons. He also spoke about his hopes for Richard of York’s son, now that the boy was a man and had become King. The lady of the castle sat quietly watching me, feasting on me with her eyes. As soon as the meal was over, I hurried up to my room, for I was very tired and I ached all over from having spent so long exercising with the sword. I threw myself fully dressed on top of the blanket and was close to sleep, when, alas, I heard the door creak and then, when I opened my eyes, I saw that the lady was bending over me.
‘It is not courteous of you to refuse me,’ she said. ‘At least let me kiss you,’ and she kissed me softly on the mouth. Then, ‘If you are a man, then let me see that you are so. Let me at least gaze upon your body.’
And she set to tugging at my surcoat to pull it off. I was too tired to resist her and besides I thought that I would let her look upon what was beneath it. When she had pulled it off, she was dismayed and her hand went to her mouth. Since I am dedicated to chastity, I wear a hair shirt and, because I wash it only once every forty days, it is usually verminous. Those tiny white crab-like creatures which toiled up and down my shirt were the defenders of my chastity that night. The lady had to steel herself to give me a second kiss before she fled the room.
The following morning I rose early and donned my armour, for I was eager to collect the gerfalcon and depart. But, as I came out into the courtyard, I encountered Hellequin who seemed distressed. He told me that the gerfalcon had been brought over from the neighbouring mews and given to the lady of the castle who was to present it to me. But she, being afraid of such a fierce bird, could not hold it properly and it flew off to a high elm where its jesses became entangled with a branch, so that it could not fly any further, but hung upside down from the tree. Hellequin then led me and my horse, Black Saladin, to the tree, where I saw the bird trapped, hanging upside down like Absalom and beside the tree stood the lady who seemed to be in a grievous state. Then Hellequin walked away and sat on the grass at some distance as if what was to happen was no business of his. The lady was tearful and spread out her hands helplessly.
‘The King will be angry with me,’ she said. ‘If I have let the falcon escape after it has been promised to you, then I fear that he will be so wrathful that he may slay me.’
But I told her that her fears were groundless and that, since as a boy I had climbed many trees, I would find no difficulty in climbing this one and rescuing the bird. I only needed her assistance in unarming me. So she set to removing my sword, helmet, breastplate and other pieces until I was stripped down to my hair shirt. Then I set to climbing the tree and when I was level with the bird I wrenched off the branch on which the bird was caught and threw it and the bird down and, though the bird tried to fly off again, it was still so entangled with the branch that it could not.
I had almost completed my descent when I saw that two men armed cap-à-pie stood close by the tree and they waved their swords as signal of their intent to kill me and then they beat those swords on their shields and shouted ‘Lancaster! Lancaster!’ I was in desperate straits, for my own sword and armour had been removed by the lady to some distance away where she stood looking on and laughing with pleasure at my discomfiture and the Maimed King had come up beside her to hold her hand.
I shouted to the two knights that it would be shameful to make a treasonable attack on an unarmed man and they should at least let me have my sword so that the combat should be fairer. And one of them replied, saying, ‘No, no, we think that you are far too good a swordsman for us to risk that. I swear that if you come down and kneel before us, we will allow you enough time to make your peace with God before we behead you.’
I now knew who one of the knights was, as I recognised the voice of James Butler, the late and unlamented Earl of Wiltshire. But, since I did not consider his offer a fair one, I climbed higher up the tree and, breaking off as thick a branch as I could manage, I then whistled for Black Saladin, which being well-trained, came and stood beneath the tree, so that I was able to leap into my saddle and then I rode my horse directly at Butler and he, being true to his nature, turned and fled. I did not trouble to pursue him, for there was the second man to deal with.
When I brought my horse round to face him, I recognised him also, for the face under the sallet was that of my former comrade in arms, Sir Andrew Trollope, one of those who had died at the Battle of Palm Sunday. I was a little sad that it was him that I would have to fight with, though this was scarcely a time for grieving. Because I did not want Sir Andrew to strike at Black Saladin with his sword, I dismounted and pushed my horse to move away. Sir Andrew stood hefting his sword and waiting to see what I would do next. He was confident that I could do no damage to him with my stick, but what I did then surprised him very much, for I hurried over to the gerfalcon, freed it from the encumbering branch and then threw the bird at Sir Andrew’s face. He screamed horribly and then, when the bird flew up to rest upon one of the lowest branches of the elm, I saw that it had clawed at the unhappy knight’s eyes. He kept screaming in his blindness and he turned and turned, pointing his sword in front of him, but he had no chance, for I crept up on him and brought my stick down hard on his wrist, knocking the sword from his grasp, and then I used the stick again to rain blows upon his sallet until he fell unconscious to the ground.
The lady of the castle had been excited by the combat. As I stood over Sir Andrew, I saw that she was flushed and she looked on me with parted lips. Something in my spirit
moved. In some strange way I had found her evil intent as seductive as her laughter and I thought that I knew what I must do with her.
But first I sat down, propped up against the tree, for I was breathless and then Hellequin walked over to congratulate me. He was genuinely pleased for I am sure that he had no love for old Lancastrians.
‘Well done!’ he said. ‘You passed the third ordeal.’
‘But I was told that there would only be two ordeals,’ I replied.
‘I know. We lied.’ Then seeing that I was discontented with this, he continued, ‘In real life you, like everyone else on this earth, will always be facing ordeals, one coming fast after another, and even after you draw your dying breath you will still have the Final Judgement to face. Ordeals are a necessary part of life, everybody has to face them and it is only in stories that there are just three ordeals after which the champion may retire to live happily ever after. As for you, I am sure that you face ordeals by night as well as by day.’
Having admonished me in this fashion, he lured the gerfalcon from its branch and walked off with it in the direction of the castle. When I had got some of my breath back, I staggered over to the Maimed King, told him that my plans had changed and asked him for one more night of hospitality.
‘Yes, you have to stay another night. You must. You are forbidden to leave today.’
Yet though he was so emphatic about this, I saw that he was also sad that I would stay another night in the castle. Then I took the lady aside and whispered to her, ‘If you will come to my chamber tonight, I promise that you will find me naked.’ And she blushed to hear me say this.
At dinner the Maimed King took his place at the head of the table. He said that he wanted to talk about history, which he regarded as a sort of science that revealed moral laws. Yet it is my belief that his foul intent was to put us all off our food. For he spoke first about how King Richard II died in Pontefract Castle over a hundred and sixty years ago. It is said that he was starved to death. Without food and water it takes perhaps as much as two weeks to die and during that period the starved man is in anguish, for he suffers from headaches, stomach pains and cramps. He longs to cry, but there is no moisture for his tears and then finally his heart gives out. After all this, Richard’s body was brought out from Pontefract and paraded and displayed at various places on the road to London, as if his corpse was some freak to be marvelled at.
Now, said the Maimed King, we were to compare that awful fate to the earlier death of Edward II in Berkeley Castle. His jailers kept him in a cell above a chamber full of the corpses of rotting animals, in the hope that their stink would infect him with some fatal disease, yet he remained healthy. So eventually three men seized him and they forced a red-hot poker up his arse. Though it is said that his screams could be heard for miles around, at least his death was relatively quick. Then the Maimed King went on to speak of the horrid deaths of Kings as reported in the Bible, as well as slaughtered monarchs in foreign parts. He particularly lingered over the murder of Evil-Merodach, Nebuchadnezzar’s successor as King of Babylon. The lady said nothing, but kept her eyes fixed on me. We all drank heavily, the lady as much as anyone else.
I stumbled up to my room and, removing my hair shirt and brushing a few lice off my chest, I got under the blanket. I had not long to wait, before she entered smiling. She kissed me before pulling off the blanket and then she screamed, for she now saw that my chest was crisscrossed with hideous welts that were the product of my regular penitential scourgings. I rolled onto my front so that she could see that my back was in an even worse state. Then I got out of bed and picked up the whip which I kept close by on the floor. I handed her the whip and knelt before her.
‘Now you see how I am dedicated to chastity,’ I said. ‘But I have lusted after your generous body and, may God forgive me, came close to surrendering to your sweet charms. If of your grace you care for me at all, I beg you to whip the evil out.’
Though her eyes were moist, she nodded and gripped the whip and walked behind me and set to flogging me. Her strokes were fierce and I thought that it might be that she was angry at having her own lusts frustrated in this unexpected fashion. When the scourging was over because of her exhaustion, she knelt beside me and fingered the leaden image of a little man that hung from my neck, wanting to know what it was and I told her that it was an amulet that my mother had fashioned to keep me safe in battle.
Then I had a question.
‘It is most curious. I have spent two days and two nights in your castle and yet I still do not know your name. Is it secret, or will you tell it to me?
‘My name was Theophania,’ she replied. ‘But henceforth I choose to be known as Dame Discipline de la Chevalerie. You have done well to resist my charms these three nights and I shall trouble you no more in this fashion. Now I shall leave you.’
But I gripped her by the arm to detain her and asked, ‘One more question, what purpose does the gerfalcon serve? Why was it sent to me in Kennington and why was it taken away again after I had presented it to King Edward?’
Her smile was glorious and she replied, ‘Now at last you have asked the question and, with the asking of the question, our adventure can be completed. Know then that bird served only as a lure and a messenger to bring you back to us. And now sleep well, for tomorrow I must conduct you to your greatest test.’
And I lay back sleepless and in pain on my bloody bed.
The following morning after breakfast I met Dame Discipline de la Chevalerie outside the castle’s chapel.
‘Good morning, Sir Anthony. Hellequin waits to hand on the gerfalcon to you. But one thing is yet to be faced. You are handsome, brave and chaste. Yet there is still a flaw in you. You are slow to ask questions and you ask too few of them. Even so, you have asked the right question and now you are to be granted an unveiled showing of the Holy Grail. Steel yourself, for it is a fearsome thing.’
Steel myself? How? Who can prepare himself for an encounter with the Divine? What kind of armour can serve in an encounter with God? But I nodded and then she unlocked the outer door of the chapel and we walked into a little space that was as brightly lit as if it had been under direct sunlight. Then, when she unlocked the second door, she turned away and shielded her eyes, but I did not and I saw that the Grail was brighter than five thousand suns and whole worlds burned within it. I saw the inside of my skull all lit up and the Eye of God hovering within it and then I saw no more, for my plight was like that of Sir Andrew Trollope, since I had become blind.
I followed the voice of Dame Discipline de la Chevalerie out of the chapel. Her voice was soothing, though I was in no state to understand what she was saying. Then Hellequin came up and told me that I could no longer remain in the castle. I was helped into the saddle and two men were assigned to me. One of them led my horse while the other walked beside, and after a while, I understood that this second man carried the gerfalcon. My companions said very little and I was not disposed to talk either, for I was wondering how I should make my way in the world since I had become a blind man. In an instant I who was strong had become a weakling and an object of pity. I should withdraw from court and hand over my sword and armour to someone who could use them. I should become dependent on small boys to lead me about. My legs should be covered in bruises from walking into things. I should listen to priests reading things to me in singsong voices. I should spill my food as I tried to eat. Never again should I gaze on the beauty of women. Though I was blind, the inside of my head was lit up with the light of the Grail which burned like a sun. I thought blindness was a fearful price to pay for having gazed upon it. I could feel the tears streaming down my face.
The day was nearly over before I was delivered to a hermitage called No Man’s Chapel where I was told that my eyes were to be healed. The hermit, whose name was Piers, pushed me down onto my knees and joined me in prayer before he applied a salve to my eyes and told me not to rub them. Then he ordered me to sleep. It was easy to obey. I thought that I w
as swimming in a golden sea before I drowned and lost consciousness. The following morning when I opened my eyes I saw light and dark shapes, though nothing clearly. Seeing I was awake, Piers applied more salve to my eyes and told me to keep them shut for an hour. Though the light of the Grail still shone on my closed eyelids, that light was now silvery like the light of the moon.
‘You who were blind to God’s power and mercy have been gently punished.’
Then it may be that because he saw that I was restless and impatient that Piers started to tell me about his life.
‘I was once a knight and a courtier as you are and I saw service with John of Bedford in France. I was wild and passionate, as perhaps all young men should be. It was in the city of Rouen that I fell desperately in love with a married Frenchwoman. Though I, in a fever of desire, followed her everywhere, she would not so much as look at me. Then one Sunday I was riding through the streets when I saw her enter a church. May God forgive me, I resolved to follow her. So I spurred my horse on and rode up the steps and entered the church on my mount.’
There was a certain pride in Piers’ voice as he described riding into church. He continued, ‘I do not know what I meant to do next, but in any case the whole congregation turned on me and drove me and my horse out before I could even speak to the lady. Though it was a great scandal and the Archbishop complained to the Duke of Bedford, still I was an Englishman and this city was ours to do with more or less as we wished. So I was merely reprimanded.’
‘But then it seems the lady conferred with her husband, before she invited me to an assignation. We met in a secluded place where I was confident of attaining the object of my desire, but all of a sudden she uncovered her bosom to reveal a breast that was being eaten away by a cancer and, when I saw that the breast was covered with red and brown pustules, I shrank from her.
‘See Englishman,’ she cried. ‘Is this diseased and dying body what you desired so much? It would be better for your soul if you loved Jesus and not me.’