Givret did take action once, though. While skirting a village, he came upon a gang of boys throwing stones at an old man in a black cloak. Leaping from his horse, Givret took his riding whip to the seats of the boys' pants. A few yelps later, the boys were gone.
"Thank you, kind sir," wheezed the old man.
"You're welcome," replied Givret. "Why were those boys abusing you?"
"Oh, it's this cursed black cloak," the old man sighed. "I never should have bought it. It's soft and warm, but whenever people see a fellow in a black robe, they think he must be a sorcerer. They [[graphic]]either drive me away or run. Terrible for business, I can tell you."
"Business? What business?"
The old man smiled broadly. "I am Gaston the Peddler, bringing to England the latest fashions from Paris, France!"
"Are you indeed?" murmured Givret politely.
"Take this, for instance!" Gaston said, pulling a small dish from his cart. "It's all the rage, I assure you! It's called a finger bowl!"
"Very pretty. Um ... what does it do?"
"You fill it with water and then dip your fingers in it before eating!"
"Do you?" Givret said. 'Why?"
"To wash them off, of course!"
"Wash before eating?" Givret asked, puzzled. "That makes no sense. I can see washing off all the grease and sauce after you've eaten, but why would you—?"
"Ah, but you won't have grease and sauce on your ringers after eating!" Gaston said eagerly "Because of this other new invention! It's called ... a fork! You cut your meat into pieces with a knife, then pick up the bits with this!"
"Why?"
"So you don't get food on your fingers!"
Givret shook his head sadly "Quite mad, you know You want me to wash my hands before eating, then never touch my food anyway? No, thank you. But there is one thing I would like to buy."
'Yes?" said the peddler eagerly "What is it?"
Your black cloak."
Gaston agreed, and a few moments later Givret was pulling the cloak on over his armor. It covered it completely.
"Excellent!" said Givret. "If I were you, friend, I'd go into the clothing business and give up this rot about finger bowls and forks. You'll never make a living selling such nonsense."
"Ah, just wait," Gaston said. "The day will come when little boys all across England will wash their hands before meals and eat with forks."
Givret laughed. "Don't be silly. Boys will never buy such foolishness."
"No," the peddler said, smiling, "but their mothers will."
The next day Givret found Sir Erec. Rounding a bend in the Great North Road, he nearly ran right into the other knight, who was heading south.
"Erec!" Givret exclaimed.
"Why, Givret! How nice to see you!" Erec said, reining in his horse.
"I say, Erec, have you already caught up with that Sir Yoder fellow?" Givret asked hopefully Erec shook his head, and Givret sighed. "Then where are you going?" he asked.
"To Scotland, of course," Erec said. "This is the Great North Road, isn't it?"
"Well, yes," Givret replied. "But you're going south on it."
Erec blinked. "Really? ... I mean to say, well, I did get rather turned around in that last forest but ... are you sure?" Givret nodded, and Erec said thoughtfully, "Then that explains it! The church in that last village looked just like one I'd passed earlier, but I decided it couldn't be the same, because it was on the other side of the road."
Givret stared at Erec for a moment, then said, "Right. Well, anyway that way is definitely north. Shall we ride together?"
Erec agreed, and they set off, riding mostly in silence. Erec had little to say, and Givret was glad of it. Instead, he spent his time asking everyone they met if they had seen Sir Yoder. He had no luck, though, until they came upon a young herald. When asked about Sir Yoder, this herald replied, "An I could help thee I would most willingly, 0 fair and noble sirs, but I wit not of such a knight, nor have I heard of anyone y-clept 'Sir Yoder.' I crave thy pardon, your worships." (This meant, "Wish I could help, but I've never heard of him. Sorry")
"No, no, don't mention it," Givret said. "But, say, I have another question."
"Ask whatsoever thou wilt, and be it in my power, I shall aid thee to the utmost!" ("Sure. Ask away")
"I've been wondering this for ages: Do you heralds always talk like that? I mean, when you're at home with your family, do you spout off all that thee and thou and y-clept rot?"
The herald grinned and lowered his voice. "No, but don't tell anyone. It's part of the mystique of being a herald, using all those gold-plated words."
Givret chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me. Well, if you ever deliver a message to Camelot, come look us up. I'm Sir Givret and this is Sir Erec. What's your name?"
The herald flushed slightly, then said, "Harold."
Givret's mouth dropped open. "Harold the Herald?"
Harold nodded glumly "My fathers idea. He's a herald, too, and he thought it was cute."
Tm so sorry," Givret said sympathetically. "And when you have a son—?"
"Freddy," Harold said promptly. "I'll call him Freddy."
Givret nodded, then turned to Erec, who had been sitting in silence. 'Well, Erec, we'd better go. We still have to find Sir Yoder and the most beautiful lady in the world."
"What did you say?" asked Harold suddenly "About the most beautiful lady?"
"Oh, this Yoder chap we're looking for has a lady with him. I don't know her name, but Yoder calls her 'the most beautiful lady in the world.'"
"Hmm," Harold murmured. "You might go to Limors and ask the count there, Count Oringle, if he's seen them."
"Why?" Givret asked.
"I've just come from Limors, where I was proclaiming a contest for the count, a test to choose the most beautiful lady in the land."
Remembering the quarrel that had nearly broken out at Camelot over the same question, Givret said, "Sounds daft. Why would the count want to hold such a contest?"
Harold shrugged. "I just proclaim; I don't ask questions. Maybe some fortuneteller told him to do it. Count Oringle's obsessed with spirits and such. He's always asking magicians and soothsayers for signs. I think he's a bit mad, but I'm careful not to say so in Limors."
"Why is that?"
Harold looked serious. "It's not a good idea to offend Count Oringle. He's a bad one. They say he's killed twelve men. But what I was thinking was that if this Yoder fellows so proud of his lady he might enter her in the counts contest."
Givret thanked Harold, and he and Erec set off for Limors.
Chapter 4
The Most Beautiful Lady in Limors
Givret and Erec arrived at Limors the next evening. They looked for a place to stay but the only inn was full. The Beautiful Lady contest was to take place the next day and all the rooms were taken by people who had come to watch.
"Why don't we ask this Count Oringle if he 11 put us up?" Erec suggested. "After all, were from the Round Table."
This wasn't a bad idea, really. In those days, it was common for traveling knights—especially those of Arthurs court—to stay with local nobles. Givret remembered what Harold the Herald had said about Count Oringle, but since he had no other ideas, he agreed. They made their way to a large, if rather shabby house at the edge of the town, where Erec knocked.
An old man with a kind face opened the door. "Yes?"
"Is this the home of Count Oringle?" Erec asked.
The old man looked less kind. "No," he said shortly. "The count lives in the larger house on the other side of town."
He began to close the door, but Givret spoke. "Forgive us if we were rude, sir. We weren't looking for the count especially, but only for a place to stay the night. We are Sir Givret and Sir Erec of King Arthur's Round Table, and we've been on the road all day."
[[graphic]]
The old man relaxed and opened the door again. "Why didn't you say so? My home is yours." He showed them an empty stable for their horses, and
a few minutes later they were walking together into a large, bare dining room.
"My name is Sir Valens," the old man said. "And I was just about to have my dinner. It's not much, but I would be honored to share it."
They accepted politely Sir Valens didn't seem wealthy, but he treated his guests with an old-fashioned courtesy that put them at their ease. When they were seated at the dining table, Givret asked Sir Valens if he had heard of a knight named Sir Yoder, son of Nut.
Sir Valens had not, and Erec added, "We thought he might come here because of this Beautiful Lady contest."
Sir Valens's face grew sad, and Givret asked quietly, "Could you explain this contest, sir? It seems an odd idea to me. Is Count Oringle a fool?"
In a low voice, Sir Valens replied, "No. The count is a villain, and he may be a madman, but he's no fool." He took a long breath, then said quietly, "Let me explain: This man Oringle came to Limors about ten years ago, at the head of an army of hired soldiers. He stole the castle of the former Count of Limors, and then proclaimed himself the new count."
Erec looked outraged. "Didn't the real Count of Limors fight back?" he demanded.
Sir Valens shook his head. "This was a peaceful county, and the count was a peaceful man. He didn't even have any knights."
Erec's eyes blazed. "I would have died before I let someone steal my land and title!" he exclaimed.
Sir Valens smiled sadly. "But the old count had a young daughter. What would have happened to her if her father had been killed?"
While Erec thought about that, Givret asked, 'What did become of the count and his daughter?"
"Oringle let them live in an old house nearby, where he could watch them, but he took their horses, so they became almost prisoners. Then, as the years passed, the old counts daughter grew into a beautiful woman, and Oringle decided to marry her. Of course, the old count refused to allow it."
Givret nodded. "Hmm. And did Oringle have the old count killed?"
"I see you've heard Oringle's reputation," said Sir Valens. "No, the people of Limors still love the old count and might rise up against Oringle if he did that. Instead he came up with this Beautiful Lady contest. All the ladies in the land must go to the town square tomorrow to be judged, and the one who is chosen is required to marry the highest noble in Limors, which of course is Oringle. Hell choose the old counts daughter, then act as if he has no choice but to marry her, under the law."
Givret said, "But what if some other lady is more beautiful than the counts daughter?"
"Judge for yourselves," Sir Valens said. "I think I hear my daughter, Enide, coming now."
"Your daughter?" said Givret.
Yes," said Sir Valens. "I am the old count."
Then the door opened and no one spoke for a long moment, because standing in the doorway was the most dazzlingly beautiful lady that either Givret or Erec had ever seen.
[[graphic]]
"My daughter, Lady Enide," said Sir Valens.
"Pleased to meet you, my lady' Givret said.
Erec said nothing. He only stared.
"Finding Sir Yoder will just have to wait," Givret said as soon as he and Erec were alone. "We must help Sir Valens and Lady Enide."
"Yes!" Erec agreed enthusiastically. "Enide must not marry that horrible count! I have an idea!"
"Er ... you do?" Givret asked. This didn't sound like Erec, somehow.
"Yes! I shall take Enide away with me to East Wales, to the castle of my father, King Lac!"
"Riding double, I suppose?" asked Givret. "Remember, they have no horses."
Erec frowned. "But we must do something! Enide is perfection itself! Her face! Her eyes! And she's so clever, too!"
"Clever?" Givret repeated. Lady Enide was a beauty but at dinner it had occurred to Givret that he had never heard anyone say so much about so little for so long. "Don't worry, Erec," he said. "I have an idea, too. Now listen closely, because I need you to follow these instructions." He told Erec what to do the next day, made him repeat it several times, and then took his black cloak and slipped out into the night.
Chapter 5
Sir Erec's Brilliance
The contest for the most beautiful lady in Limors turned out as expected. Enide wore her plainest gown and left her hair uncombed and tangled, but nothing could disguise her beauty. "We have chosen a winner!" declared Count Oringle, a squat fellow with a bristly beard, once he had paraded all the ladies before the crowd. "And, since great beauty should be honored greatly, the winner gets to wed the greatest noble in Limors! Me!
[[graphic]]
The winner is ... Lady Enide!"
All that morning, Givret had been standing concealed in a shadowy doorway, waiting for this moment. "You are mistaken, Count Oringle!" he shouted, stepping into the open. He wore his black robe with the hood pulled low over his face.
"Who the devil are you?" Count Oringle snapped.
"I..." Givret paused for effect. "I am a sorcerer! I bring a solemn message to Count Oringle from the Spirit World!"
A hush fell over the crowd, and Count Oringle turned pale. A sorcerer!" he gasped.
"Yes!" Givret declared. "The dark spirits of Tara have sent you a message! Come here!"
"Of course, of course," the count said, bowing. "I'll just claim my new bride, and then—"
"Didn't you hear me?" Givret scoffed. "She is not your bride!"
"Don't you think she's the most beautiful lady?" Count Oringle asked.
"That's not the problem," snapped Givret. "You are not the greatest noble present!" Whirling on his heel, Givret pointed at Erec, who was standing beside Sir Valens. "He is! You! Knight! What is your name?"
Erec stepped forward and recited the words Givret had made him memorize. "My name is Sir Erec, of King Arthur's court, and my father is Lac, King of East Wales."
"A prince, as you know, is higher than a count," said Givret. "But enough of this! I have not come to settle silly contests but to bring you a word from the spirits."
Suddenly, Erec figured it out. "By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I am a prince! That means ... by the rules, Enide is to marry..." Throwing himself forward, he knelt at Enide's feet, gazing up into her face, and said, "Will you marry me, dearest Enide? Please say yes!"
Trembling with fury, Count Oringle drew a long dagger from his belt and stepped toward Erec, but Givret had been watching for something like this. "Here is my message!" he shrieked. "The spirits of the men you have killed have cast a curse on you! If you should murder even one more man, that mans ghost will haunt you forever! Beware! The shades of the dead have spoken!"
Count Oringle dropped his dagger as if it were red hot. Givret ducked out of sight—glad for once that he was so smalland stripped off his cloak. His plan had gone off without a hitch.
Then came a hitch. While Erec and Enide were still gazing into each others eyes and the count still standing in frozen terror, a knight on horseback galloped into the square, scattering the crowd around him. 'Who dares to crown the most beautiful lady in the land without consulting me?" called the knight. "My lady is the most beautiful in the land, and I—I, Sir Yoder, son of Nutshall fight anyone who denies it!"
Of course, Erec leapt to his feet. "I deny it! Lady Enide is the most beautiful lady in the world!"
At once, both knights began hacking at each other with swords. Givret could only stare, helpless, while Erec, still dressed in his hunting clothes, fought with the fully armored Yoder—the very thing Givret had been sent to prevent.
[[graphic]]
But slowly, Givret's spirits began to rise. Somehow, even without armor, Erec was holding his own. In fact, he was lighting magnificently By George! Givret thought. Maybe Erec didn't need me after all! It occurred to Givret that, while Erec might not win any prizes for his brains, there were other kinds of brilliance.
A moment later, with a splendid flick of his sword, Erec disarmed Sir Yoder, who sank, panting, to his knees at Erec's feet. "I yield!" he gasped. 'Never have I seen such swordplay!"
&
nbsp; "Then hear this, Sir Yoder, son of Nut," Erec said clearly. "I will spare your life, on two conditions. First, you must go to Camelot, to Queen Guinevere, and apologize for insulting her in the forest the day of the great hunt." Sir Yoder looked confused, and Erec said, "The lady that you called a warty hag was the queen. Second, you must promise to fight no more battles to defend your lady's beauty" Erec glanced at Enide, then added, "You know, if your lady loves you, that ought to be enough, don't you think?"
Sir Yoder bowed his head in acceptance, and the crowd roared it's approval—they had had a marvelous day's entertainment. Then Erec turned back to Enide. Tm sorry we were interrupted," he said, as soon as the cheering had subsided. "But you never had a chance to give me your answer. Will you marry me, Enide?"
"Yes, Sir Erec, I will!" Enide replied breathlessly.
And so it was that Sir Givret finished his first quest, and a fine quest it had turned out to be. Not only had Erec done what he set out to do, teaching Sir Yoder, son of Nut, a valuable lesson, but Lady Enide had been rescued from marrying the wicked Count Oringle, and she and Erec had found love. Even the crowd had had a grand time. Only Count Oringle had had a really bad day, and that didn't bother Givret at all.
Chapter 6
Sir Erec's Next Quest
Erec and Enide were married the next day. Givret rode back to Camelot to report on their adventures, while Erec bought two horses and took Lady Enide and her father to Wales, to present them to his father. King Lac was delighted with them both. He gave the happy couple their very own castle and made Sir Valens his chief advisor. It all felt like Happily Ever After.
But there's one thing about Happily Ever After that storytellers sometimes forget to mention: It takes a while to get it right. You see, not everyone has the same idea of Happily Ever After. So, when two people try to find happiness together, there are always a few details to work out. Erec, for instance, thought happiness was either riding alone in search of adventures or sitting at home by a fire in peace and quiet. Enide, on the other hand, was happiest when she was talking. Well, it was a problem.
The Adventures of Sir Givret the Short Page 2