The Legend of Parzival

by Robin Cook

  Gawain said nothing, only inspected the ravine and the possibility of landing safely on the other side. It was aptly named. Yet while it was perilous, it was not impossible – just almost impossible. His practised eye measured the distance while Gringuljete stood at his side and shook his head and snorted.

  “Yes, I know,” he said to the horse. “Madness, but we can do it.” Any hesitation on his or the horse’s part would spell disaster; both would be swept away and battered on the rocks.

  He patted Gringuljete’s neck and murmured in his ear, “Come on boy, we can do this!” He remounted and went back from the edge as far as he could. Gringuljete’s ears twitched and he blew forcefully through his nostrils. Gawain glanced at Orgeluse and caught her eye. Was that a look of genuine concern? Hard to tell. He dug his spurs into his horse’s flanks and he leapt forward. He felt the muscles bunching in Gringuljete’s neck as he hurled them both over the ravine. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as they felt suspended in mid air, but Gawain knew they were not going to make it – not quite. They landed heavily with a mighty splashing and neighing as Gringuljete, whose hindquarters were in the river, thrashed about trying to get a purchase with his forelegs. Gawain used the momentum of the leap to fling himself forward onto the land and then turned to his horse. Panic flared in the whites of Gringuljete’s eyes, as he was unable to gain a foothold on the shore. An ugly swirl of the river threatened to carry him off through the rapids. Gawain, stumbling on the rocks and shouting at his faithful horse, flung himself flat trying to reach the reins. The horse was struggling for its life. Gawain grabbed his spear, thrust it forward and managed to loop the reins over the end. He twisted and pulled, then waded into the river, which was pulling wickedly at his legs. He managed to grasp the reins, but he almost lost his footing. Yet he recovered, held up Gringuljete’s head and, amid much splashing and cursing, managed to get the faithful steed onto the land. The horse, streaming with water, was quivering with the exertion, but he slowly calmed down, shook himself, then whinnied and nuzzled at Gawain.

  After that, though both were dripping wet, it was relatively easy to scramble up the bank to where the tree stood in a small clearing. Gawain went up to it, looked around and then pulled off a few branches with blossoms on to make a wreath. As he did so, he was hailed from the other side of the clearing.

  “Ho! Who takes a wreath from my tree?”

  A finely dressed man wearing a hat of peacock plumes, a cloak of green samite trimmed with ermine and bearing a falcon on his wrist approached him.

  “I see by the condition of your shield that you must have encountered the Lit Merveil. I assume you mastered it. I would have undertaken that adventure myself had not Klingsor made it worth my while not to. Besides, I am at daggers drawn with she who both holds you in her power, and is in turn held captive by Klingsor himself.”

  Gawain wondered what this meant, but the man went on. “I killed Cidegast, Orgeluse’s husband. I then took her captive and offered her my crown and lands, but she refused me. I let her go, but since then she has sent knight after knight to kill me. They all failed, as you can see. You must be another one. You have to accept that you are facing almost certain death. You are fortunate to have leapt the Ford Perilous. You are the first to have done it, but that won’t help you much when you have to fight me. Also, I have decided to fight two men at a time, and you have come on your own.”

  Gawain smiled. “It would hardly do me credit to fight you anyway. You are unarmed.”

  “Yes, but that is of little consequence. I have another love now, and she is more important to me than anything else. Although we have never met, we have pledged our love and she has sent me this falcon.” He looked adoringly at the fine bird sitting on his wrist. “Her name is Itonje, and she is the daughter of King Lot.”

  As the import of Gramoflanz’s words sank in, Gawain realised that Itonje was in fact his sister! Yet he did not want to give anything away to this man and made no sign that he recognised the name.

  “Instead of fighting, what I would have you do is take this ring to Itonje as a pledge of my love.”

  “Indeed, I am quite willing,” said Gawain, “but to whom am I speaking? Who sends the ring, and where am I to find her?”

  “My name is King Gramoflanz, and Itonje is in the Castle of Wonders. I am well known for the oath I took to avenge the death of my father. He was treacherously killed by King Lot and I swore never to undertake single combat unless it be with his son, Gawain, who should answer for his father’s deed.”

  There was a pause.

  “This is a strange state of affairs,” said Gawain. “You protest your love for King Lot’s daughter, and yet you want to kill her brother. I can hardly think she will return your love if she finds out. The accusation you make is very serious and needs to be answered. I can do that, as I am that Gawain you wish to meet.”

  Gramoflanz raised an eyebrow at this and then broke into a broad smile.

  “I am both glad and sorry to have met you in this way. But” – and here he became much more animated – “I see an opportunity for us both to benefit. This will be a contest like no other. Whoever wins will have great increase of fame, and he who loses will always be remembered. You are already honoured that I meet you in single combat.” Gramoflanz’s eyes lit up as he went on. “Do you ask your uncle King Arthur to bring his court to witness the contest? He is not more than a few days’ ride hence. You have a great company at your command – all the followers of Orgeluse at the Castle of Wonders – and I myself shall bring 1,500 knights and their ladies!” He was getting more and more excited as his imagination painted the scene. “Let us meet on the plain of Joflanze in sixteen days!”

  Gawain agreed, but when Gramoflanz offered to show him a different way back to the castle, he declined. After all, Orgeluse was waiting for him at the other side of the Ford Perilous.

  This time he was able to leap the ravine with comparative ease and landed with room to spare. He trotted up to her, removing the wreath from his helm and dismounting in one graceful movement. But what was this? She was in floods of tears. Gone were the sly smirks, winsome ways and deceitful wiles. Her tears looked genuine.

  “Oh, Gawain! I’m so sorry… I almost died when you made that leap… I don’t know what to say… And you have the wreath… What must you think of me? I don’t know how to explain… You will only despise me… For what I have done…” The words came tumbling out, interjected by great heaving sobs. Gawain took her in his arms to calm her, but then she wept even more. “I know I have been heartless and cruel… But I had to… I had no choice.” Gawain held her at arm’s length and looked at her kindly, but without emotion.

  “Lady: accept this wreath, which I chanced my life to get. I have suffered much from your sharp tongue, and you have insulted me in many ways. Some criticism may have been deserved, but much was unworthy of you. I have served you faithfully despite your mockery, but unless you can respect me, I now ask to be released from my vow of service.” He spoke with a sense of newfound self-respect and calmness. The ordeal at the Ford Perilous had taught him much.

  “Oh no!” A look of panic flashed from her eyes. “You are right in all you say, but please let me explain. I too have suffered, for I loved a noble knight called Cidegast. He was all a knight and husband should be. But Gramoflanz slew him and wanted me to marry him instead. I scorned his offer and my heart grew hard and I swore bloody revenge. In doing so, I fell into the clutches of the magician Klingsor. He endowed me with such enchanting ways that no man could resist my blandishments, and it was easy to engage knights to make attempts on the life of Gramoflanz. But he was always too strong for them or they failed at some other test. I sometimes thought of abandoning the revenge, but Klingsor always lured me on, by giving me the Castle of Wonders and all its land. I couldn’t resist him. I even engaged Anfortas to fight for me, and that is how he got his wound.”

  “Anfortas!” gasped Gawain. “But he is the Fisher King, the king of the
Grail castle.”

  “Yes, he was so enchanted with me he gave me the Pavilion of Splendours at the entrance to the castle. But after a while I no longer wanted Klingsor to have power over me and I began to try to think of ways of ridding myself of him. I even offered him Anfortas’s treasure. He seemed to be tempted by this, so I offered him a wager that he could not resist. He would have my treasure unless I could find someone who could survive the trials of the castle and love me without being passion’s slave. He saw that as a challenge to the power of his magic. He was so confident that this was impossible that if I could find someone worthy then I could keep the treasure – and be free. To begin with he seemed to be right, because although many knights attempted the trials, none succeeded. I began to think it was impossible too. There was only one, the Red Knight, who could have succeeded, but did not succumb to my charms.”

  “That was Parzival!” exclaimed Gawain.

  “He would neither enter the castle nor pledge his service. He said he sought the Grail above all and was faithful to his wife in Pelrepeire. I both admired and hated him for that. But then you came along, and you have been able to master the trials, leap the Ford Perilous and fetch the wreath from the tree.” She smiled at him, as though wanting him to see how much he meant to her. “Don’t you see? Klingsor put me in a position where it looked as though I had power, but in fact I had none. It was the weakness of others that gave me the appearance of power. There had to be someone who, by overcoming the trials, could resist me, so they could win me. You have done that. I ask your forgiveness. But perhaps you cannot forgive me, and then I shall be nothing.”

  Gawain listened to all this and then answered thoughtfully. “Lady, I am glad that you now show me your true nature and that Klingsor will have no more power over you. While it is true that you held me in thrall for a while, what I did was for that which lay within.”

  Orgeluse smiled shyly. Taking her firmly by the waist, Gawain lifted her up onto her palfrey. She, in thanks, leant down and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

  “Let us make our way back to the Castle of Wonders,” she said, “for now it, and all it contains, is yours. As am I.”

  As they rode along, Orgeluse told him much more of the Castle of Wonders and who the ladies were who had tended him. Not only had Arnive, King Arthur’s mother, taken special care of him, but his own mother had also tended to him. Orgeluse also confirmed what Gramoflanz had revealed to him: that Itonje and Cundry were his sisters. Gawain was deeply moved at the prospect of being reunited with them but begged Orgeluse not to reveal his identity until he found the right moment. Though much had been achieved, there was still much to do, and Gawain could not yet see clearly how it could be worked out. Perhaps the first thing to do was to find out if his sister Itonje really loved Gramoflanz as much as the king claimed.

  Deep in conversation, Gawain and Orgeluse arrived back to the castle. As they approached, a band of knights cantered out of the gate.

  “Are we going to be attacked?” Gawain asked.

  “No, no!” laughed Orgeluse. “They have heard of your success and ride to welcome you. These were Klingsor’s knights, but now they belong to you.”

  There was great joy at their arrival, and the ferryman and Bene were ready to take them across the river. The ladies crowded the windows to watch them cross, and when they entered the castle Queen Arnive met them and took Gawain to his room to re-bandage his wounds.

  This done, he called for pen, paper and a messenger and wrote a letter to King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, inviting then to the plain of Joflanze in sixteen days’ time. He urged the squire to make haste and swore him to secrecy concerning his mission. Gawain would not tell anyone what he was planning, but all knew that great changes would take place now he was lord of the castle. He would not even tell Queen Arnive but assured her that soon all would become clear. Hard though she tried, she could get nothing out of the squire either.

  Chapter 13

  Arnive was not at all pleased that she could get no information from the squire, but there was little she could do except to make sure the gatekeeper told her when he came back. In the meantime Gawain went to rest, and when he awoke he was much refreshed. A valet brought him some fresh clothes and he was astonished at their magnificence. They were made of a heavy silk, embroidered in gold and were of the most exquisite design. He marvelled at the workmanship, and the valet explained that the cloth came from Tabronit, where Queen Secundille ruled, wife to the knight Feirefiz. It was a city richer even than Nineveh. Gawain asked for more of the garments to be brought so that Turkoite and Lischois Gwelljus could also be as magnificently dressed. He was determined to bring peace to the Castle of Wonders, and although he had defeated both knights, his intention was to give them their freedom. He had learned that the wreath that he had taken from Gramoflanz’s tree was the Wreath of Virtue, and now he had the power to release all those who had been enthralled by their desire to serve Orgeluse.

  When all three were dressed in their fine garments, they went down to the Great Hall, where all the inhabitants of the castle were gathered. All the knights were on one side of the hall and all the ladies on the other. At the high table, the radiant Orgeluse waited to receive them and to thank Gawain. Arnive introduced Sangive and her two daughters, Itonje and Cundrie, to Orgeluse, and Gawain asked his sisters to come forward and give a kiss of greeting to her. Afterwards, he introduced Turkoite and Lischois. Then the signal was given for all to be seated for the banquet, and the knights and ladies all came forward to the long tables. Gawain arranged things so he sat next to Itonje. After a short while, he turned to her.

  “There are many fine ladies and brave knights here. Is this your custom?”

  She hesitated and coloured slightly, being unused to conversation with the opposite sex.

  “Indeed, no. This is the first time such an occasion has taken place. We have you to thank for that.”

  “Then your normal companions are your mother and sister.”

  “Yes, although I know many other ladies as well.”

  “So you have little contact with the world outside these walls?”

  “We hear a little, from time to time.”

  “But you know little of knightly courtesy and the service you may command from one who loves?”

  Again, Itonje blushed a little. “I know many of the knights serve the Duchess of Logres, but I know little of their doings.” Here Gawain noticed a slight tone of hostility in her voice, but she went on. “I have rarely talked to a knight as I talk to you now, but I have watched the jousts from the windows, and sometimes a squire might bring some news.”

  “Do you know who they fight against, these servants of the duchess?”

  “Sometimes each other, but I think sometimes they fight King Gramoflanz!” Her voice trembled a little and she glanced away nervously.

  “Ah, King Gramoflanz. Let me tell you something. I have met him, and he is your devoted servant. He wishes to serve you. I must give you this ring to prove the message is from him.”

  Itonje looked startled and blushed again, then she went pale as she took the ring and looked earnestly at Gawain.

  “Yes – I sent him this ring as a love token. I cannot tell you now how it came about, but I know he is the one man who could win my heart. But you must tell no one. Orgeluse hates him and would have him dead. When you made me kiss her in greeting, I could have died. Then I had to kiss Turkoite and Lischois, both of whom tried to kill him. Please say nothing to my mother or sister. No one must know.” She clasped the ring firmly in her small white hand.

  Gawain felt a surge of sympathy when he saw how much she longed for Gramoflanz and how worthy they would be of each other.

  “Come, I will help you in any way I can. But you are right: this must be kept secret till we know what best to do.”

  “I place myself in your hands,” she said, and he vowed to do all he could. But he did not tell her that he was her own brother, nor that he was engaged to fight Gramoflanz
. He trusted that he would find some way out of this situation.

  The banquet was finishing and the conversation came to an end. A number of squires began to tune their fiddles. The tables were pushed back and the knights and ladies came forward to perform some stately dances. Bright smiles were exchanged, curtsies made and bows accepted as music filled the hall. All was gaiety, as the candles were lit to make the night bright. There was talk of love and much sweet converse was held as a thousand stars looked down from above.

  As the night wore on, Gawain became tired and Arnive saw that he needed to rest. She told him, “You know you must sleep now if your wounds are to heal fully. Also you will need attention to make sure the bandages are secure. Who will do this?”

  “You must ask Orgeluse. It is her place to decide that.”

  “I will tend to him,” said Orgeluse. “It is for me to ensure he has all he needs.”

  Gawain rose to take his leave, and this was taken as a signal for the dances to come to an end. All the company dispersed in different directions for the night. Gawain was escorted to a beautiful chamber where two couches stood side by side and candles filled the room with holy glimmers. Queen Arnive took her leave and the door was bolted behind her. The Duchess Orgeluse took care of Gawain out of her deep love for him, and he was purified and healed by her devotion, so that when he awoke the following morning all the travails of his soul had been wiped away.

  In the meantime, the squire that Gawain had sent to King Arthur had been spurring his horse over hill and dale, through bog and forest, until he came to him at Bems. Bespattered with mud, his horse all of a lather, the squire galloped across the drawbridge and clattered into the courtyard of the castle. Arthur was discussing his plans for the day with his nobles and this dramatic arrival caused quite a sensation. The panting figure of the squire swung lithely down from his saddle and called out, “King Arthur! I have a message from Sir Gawain.” All was excitement, apprehension and, above all, anticipation.