"I'm sorry, Sir Gawain, Terence. But you are not finished today."
"Ah," Gawain said. "You said you would give us further instructions for our quest."
She nodded. "These are the last instructions you will receive: Follow me into the lake, and then follow the lake itself. Follow the lake until the candle of heaven shows you an open door. Enter there, and you will face your final test."
"Final test for what? What is it that I'm being tested to achieve?" Gawain asked, frowning. "What is this quest that you and Terence's messenger and Morgan keep on about?"
"Sometimes, Sir Gawain, the goal of a quest is to understand the goal of the quest."
Gawain sighed. "I suppose you Other Worlders have to talk like that. I wonder if you mean to explain something or to conceal it."
"Both." Nimue smiled, turning her white horse toward the lake. "Follow me. And mind that you neither rest nor leave the waters until you have arrived at the door." She rode into the lake, and Terence and Gawain followed. Nimue repeated "Follow the lake," and then sank, horse and all, beneath the surface. Not a ripple showed that she had ever been there.
They both stared at the smooth surface for a long moment. Then Gawain said, "Come on, Terence. 'Follow the lake,' she said, which I suppose means to follow the shore."
Gawain started splashing through the shallows along the shore, but Terence did not move. Suddenly, unprompted, he thought of the shape that had appeared in the morning mist that day, the vaguely human figure that had pointed across the lake. "No, milord," he said.
Gawain stopped and looked back over his shoulder, "What, lad?"
"I ... I think we should go that way," Terence pointed straight across the lake.
"On horseback?" Gawain asked mildly. "We'll drown."
"I don't know, milord. I just know that following the shoreline is wrong."
Gawain looked at Terence thoughtfully. "Can you say how you know?" Terence shook his head. "But you know it all the same?" Gawain continued. Terence nodded, feeling very foolish. Gawain pursed his lips, then, with a crooked smile, said, "I suppose that's good enough for me. Lead the way, Terence."
Terence looked across the lake, wondered briefly how it felt to drown, and urged his mount into motion. His horse had to begin swimming almost at once, and Terence slipped off the saddle and paddled alongside to lighten the animal's load. After a few seconds, though, Terence's horse stopped swimming and scrambled onto a submerged sand bar. Terence put his feet down carefully and found himself in chest-deep water.
"Look, milord! It's shallower here. That's lucky!"
Guingalet climbed onto the shallow spot, and Gawain said, "Lucky."
Straight across the lake they headed, always in shallows no higher than their horses' bellies. Terence walked ahead, holding his horse's reins, feeling with his feet for holes and deep water. Gawain, heavy in his armor, stayed on Guingalet's back, watching Terence press ahead.
Once, Terence veered a few feet to the right and felt the ground slip away under his feet. He splashed to the surface, gasping. "So it's deep just to the right, is it?" Gawain said. "Try a few steps to the left, Terence." Terence did, and again felt the bottom slope downward. "Don't you see, Terence?" Gawain said. "We're on an underwater road. From up here you can see it. On either side, the water is dark, but right ahead it's lighter."
Terence saw. Ahead stretched a thin ribbon of lighter-colored water, where the lake was shallow. "Who would build an underwater road, milord?" he asked.
"And why?" Gawain added.
They plodded on. Now that they could see their way, Terence no longer needed to walk, and he remounted and followed the pale path. The shore behind them grew more distant, but the far shore never seemed to grow nearer.
And then the fog fell, or rather rose, because it seemed to spring up from the lake itself. One minute Terence had been able to see all the shores of the lake, and the next he could barely make out the faint outline of his own horse's ears.
Terence dismounted and led his horse again, holding to the reins as to a lifeline, calling directions back to Gawain. More times than he could count he stepped off the road into the deep water and had to pull himself out by the reins. Once Guingalet slipped on the edge, and only by a superb bit of horsemanship did Gawain stay on the road. All around, tiny splashing noises began to come to Terence's ears. He stopped. "Milord?"
"I hear them, boy."
Something long and cold slithered past Terence's leg. "Milord!" he shouted. "There's something there! By my leg!"
"Terence, don't move! Not a muscle! Do you hear me!" Gawain said quietly. "There are thousands of them. If we try to escape, we'll both end up at the bottom of the lake."
Something like a long snake or an eel slithered up Terence's leg, over his shoulder, and back into the water. "We can't stop, milord. Nimue said we mustn't." Terence took a deep breath. "I'll move slowly."
Terence whispered to his horse, which twitched convulsively, and began to move along the road again. For fully fifteen minutes he put one foot ahead of the other while the creatures swirled and writhed and coiled around him. His arms ached from holding his horse's reins tight. One creature coiled three times around his waist, and Terence broke into a feverish sweat, but he still stepped forward, giving directions to Gawain in a hoarse whisper. No sound met his ears but the faint splashes of the things sliding in and out of the water. Behind him, he heard Gawain mutter, "And to think I almost had Gaheris as squire." Terence felt braver and stepped forward again.
The fog grew somehow darker and began to gather itself into shapes around him. First there was a bull, head lowered, then a human shape, then others. They flitted and shifted before Terence's eyes, not greeting him in friendship as had the figures in the morning mist, but sneering and scowling at him. And still the creatures under the water coiled and twisted around his legs. Terence could scarcely breathe, but he set his mind on putting one foot ahead of the next. A few yards ahead, two wraiths took the shapes of a lady and a knight. Terence stopped and caught his breath.
"What is it, Terence?" Gawain whispered.
"Nothing, milord." Terence choked and stepped forward again. Now he heard the lady's voice, muttering softly. Terence took another step, and the lady's voice grew clearer.
"Not now. No, not now. Not while Merlin is still with him. But it will be soon. Merlin will leave, and then—" Terence clenched his teeth and stepped closer. The female shape whirled around and saw him. "You! Again!" Terence stepped forward, missed the road, and plunged over his head in the lake, into the midst of the writhing sea creatures. Slowly he pulled himself out by his horse's reins, slippery beasts coiling and dripping from his shoulders.
"Terence!" Gawain whispered urgently.
"Here, milord," Terence gasped. "I'm alive." The shapes of the lady and the knight were gone. Terence began to cry from fear and weariness, but he stretched out his foot and began walking again.
At last the splashes of the coiling creatures grew fainter. For a long moment, neither spoke, then Gawain said, "I'll dream about that for the rest of my life."
Terence breathed deeply and splashed water on his face to wash away his tears. "Do you know what they are?" he asked.
"They can only have been shaughuses, lad. Poison eels. I've heard they have only to run their tongues over your skin to kill you instantly."
Terence felt faint, but he took another step. "To the right a bit, milord," he said.
About an hour later the fog lifted, but they could see no better than before. The sun had set, and a thick cloud blotted the moonlight. The air was fresh, and the breeze was cool. Gawain swore to himself.
"What, milord?"
"Thunderstorm coming. And here we are in a lake, the worst place to be." Then, to himself, he added, "And me in full armor."
A flash of lightning lit the horizon, and a few seconds later thunder boomed around them. Then came another flash and rumble, and then the sky opened and poured itself out on them. Torrents of hard rain beat against them, and all around
them lightning flashed. Terence trudged on through the night, shouting his directions to Gawain sometimes two or three times before he heard an answering shout. A huge lightning bolt seemed to dance over their heads, and in its light Terence saw with amazement that there were trees on both sides of him.
"Milord! Milord!" he shouted.
"I see, Terence! We're in a river now! We must have—" His voice disappeared in a crash of thunder. The river current swept Terence from his feet, but he held the reins and pulled himself to the surface, just as lightning burst beside them. The sound hit Terence like a blow, and it was followed immediately by a second explosion to his right. At once he could see everything, in the fierce glow of a lightning-struck pine that sent long, roaring flames toward the sky. Beside him, built right into the side of the river, rose a huge stone castle. The opposite bank, where the tree burned, was only a few yards away. As he watched, a mighty drawbridge lowered from the castle to rest on the far shore.
"That's it, Terence! The door!" Gawain shouted. "Up the bank!"
Dazed, Terence followed Gawain's example, pulling and shouting and begging his mount until both horses stood dripping on dry land. Gawain grasped Terence's shoulder. "Good lad! Now, into the castle!"
They led their horses across the drawbridge into a large entry hall, lit by cheery torches stuck in the wall. The drawbridge closed behind them, and the raging storm suddenly seemed a thousand miles away. "Well, we're here," Gawain said. The lines on his face were carved deep with weariness. "The candle of heaven showed us the door. Wherever here is."
"Welcome, travelers," said a bright, pleasant female voice. "Your chambers are waiting. Would you like separate bedchambers or would you prefer to share one?" A fair-haired girl appeared around a corner, carrying a lamp in each hand.
Gawain stared at her for a second, then bowed. "One bedchamber, please," he said.
"Very well. Follow me, please." She turned and walked gracefully down a long hallway. "The grooms will see to your horses. The Master and his daughter will see you in the morning after you have breakfasted. One of the servants will bring you your breakfast in your room. Warm water is awaiting you, and your fire is lit."
Gawain shot Terence a helpless look, then said, "We've come this far, lad. Let's go." They left their sodden horses and followed the girl.
"If I can do anything else for your comfort," she was saying, "please let me or one of the other servants know."
"You could answer a few questions," Gawain said.
"I am at your service, Sir Gawain," she nodded, turning into a darker hallway.
"First, how do you know my name, and how did you know we would be arriving?"
"When you meet the Master, you will no longer wonder how he knows what he knows," she said with a patient smile.
"Who is the Master, then?" Gawain asked.
"He is Ganscotter the Enchanter," she said.
"An enchanter?" Gawain repeated.
"The Enchanter," she replied.
"Not so long ago I was with the great Merlin—" Gawain began.
"Even Merlin, Sir Gawain, is a servant of greater ones," the girl said. "Here is your room. If you think of anything you need, simply pull that rope, and it shall be brought to you. Sleep well, Sir Gawain. Pleasant dreams, Terence."
The girl left, taking both lamps with her. The only light in the room came from the fire roaring in the hearth. Near the hearth were two chairs, and just behind them two huge old beds. Beside each bed was a small table on which were laid out several towels, a pitcher of water, and a change of clothing. Terence and Gawain washed and fell thankfully into their beds to sleep like the dead until morning.
***
Terence awoke to the sound of a gentle tapping. He opened his eyes and saw Gawain, dressed in a magnificent green brocade blouse, rise from the chair next to the fire and cross the room to open the door. A plump kitchenmaid stood there, beaming and holding a heavy tray piled high with ham and bacon and savory rolls and eggs and a pot of porridge and fresh apples and pears and plums and a good deal more. Terence sat upright in his bed, holding the blankets around him.
"The Master will receive you in one hour in his chambers," the maid said as soon as Gawain had taken the tray. "Lady Audrey will come get you. You eat a good breakfast, now." She curtseyed and left.
An hour later the fair-haired lady who had shown them to their rooms came to get them. She led them through a bewildering series of halls, up a winding staircase, to the ramparts at the top of the castle.
"Terence, look at the river!" Gawain said suddenly.
Terence looked over the wall, but there was no river. The only water that was visible was the moat that surrounded the castle. "It's not there, milord," Terence said faintly.
"Look there," Gawain said. He pointed at a lightning-blasted pine, still smoking beside the moat.
Then Terence understood and whispered, "That's the tree that we saw last night. We came out of the moat, didn't we?"
"Looks that way," Gawain said. He turned to their guide and said, "Lady Audrey, is it?" She stopped and looked politely at them. "We came out of your moat last night, but I see no streams leading to it. Can you tell us how we got there?"
She smiled pleasantly and said, "All the waters of your world are contained in our moat, Sir Gawain. Come. The Master is waiting." They followed the lady along the ramparts to a tower that took up all of one corner of the castle. Without knocking, she pushed open a massive door, and they entered a simply furnished room with a thick carpet on the floor and a few tapestries on the wall. In the center of the room a small man with a pleasant smile and a curly brown beard sat on a throne carved in dark wood.
"Welcome, Sir Gawain!" the man said, rising. He looked around thirty-five, but something in his eyes was far older than that. "And welcome, Terence!" the man said, turning glowing eyes on Terence. "You have done well. I have high hopes that you will achieve your tasks."
They both bowed deeply, and Gawain said, "Sir, so too do I, though I know not what my task might be."
"This is your goal, Sir Gawain," the man said. He reached around his wooden throne and withdrew a long sash, in cloth of gold. On the sash were embroidered the words "The Maiden's Knight."
"I am to become The Maiden's Knight?" Gawain asked. "What is that?"
"One whose task is to defend the fairer sex, with courage and honor and with—discrimination."
"Sir, you speak of a burden, not a prize."
The man nodded. "Sir Gawain, you will come to understand that the greatest boons given in our world are burdens. In your world men fight for glory; it is not so here." He gazed mistily at the walls for a moment, then looked back at Gawain and Terence. "I, as you know, am Ganscotter the Enchanter, the lord of this castle and much, much more, a ruler among the faeries, and a humble servant of my own master. I am also a great admirer of yours, Sir Gawain. I have watched your adventures since you were a child, and I should like to hear the tale of your most recent quest. Will you tell it?"
Gawain blinked and said, "Do you not know what has happened, sir? I would have thought that you knew the events better than I."
"I know the events, Sir Gawain. I wish to hear the tale. There is a difference."
Slowly at first but then more easily, Gawain began to tell all that had happened since they left King Arthur's court in search of the hart. He assumed no false modesty when recounting his triumphs, but neither did he pass over his failures. He told of his own surliness toward Terence on the day of their departure, and he spoke openly of his anger and lack of mercy toward Alardin and Ablamor and of his accidental slaying of Ablamor's wife. He spoke briefly of Alisoun and Pelleas and Ettard, and at great length of Terence's courage in leading the way through the lake, the night, the fog, the storm, and the shaughuses.
When he was done, Ganscotter looked warmly at Terence, then turned back to Gawain and said, "Well told, Sir Gawain. Now I must ask you a question. You have been through many dangers, and you have met many maidens. Tell me what
you have learned of women."
Gawain hesitated. "I dare not speak, my lord. I have learned above all that I still have much to learn. I must allow women the privilege of interpreting themselves as they will."
"You are either very wise or very diplomatic, Sir Gawain," a rich, low voice said from the other side of the room. "Whichever is the case, you have answered well."
His face stricken, Gawain leaped to his feet and whirled around. There, in the doorway, stood the hag from the feast.
"My daughter," Ganscotter said. "Lorie."
Hesitantly, Gawain took several steps toward the ugly woman. Then he knelt in front of her and said, "I have hoped that I would see you again, my lady."
"Have you?" she asked. Her soft voice sent a thrill through Terence, and Gawain quivered visibly. "Why is that, Sir Gawain?"
"To beg your forgiveness, my lady. I was unpardonably rude to you, but I ask your pardon all the same."
"It is well said," Lorie answered. "To forgive the unforgivable is the breath of life in this world. You are forgiven, Sir Gawain. It is to your credit, too, that you do not mention that I deliberately provoked your rudeness."
"I did not think that provocation was an excuse, my lady."
"There is no such thing as an excuse, Sir Gawain," she said laughing, and her laughter was like the wind, the water, and a thousand songbirds singing together. "Stand up, Gawain," she said. "It is not right that you should kneel to me." Gawain stood, his eyes still on Lorie's face. "And now I must meet Terence," Lorie said, crossing the room to the squire. "I understand that you have served your master well, Terence. I am pleased."
Terence gulped and said, "Thank you, my lady."
"No, Terence. Do not call me 'my lady.' You must call me Lorie."
"Yes, my lady," Terence stammered.
"All in good time, my child." Ganscotter smiled.
***
Gawain and Terence spent the rest of the day with their host and hostess, and never had Terence known greater contentment. Ganscotter, though his ancient eyes remained awe-inspiring, was a gentle companion. A peaceful, dreamlike bliss stole over Terence when Ganscotter spoke, and he felt brave and able to do anything. While Gawain and Lorie talked and laughed by the fire, Ganscotter took Terence out onto the castle ramparts.
The Squire's Tale Page 11