by Robin Cook
King Arthur pushed through the babbling throng, calling out, “Send for the queen! News from Gawain! What have you to tell?”
“Sire,” said the squire, kneeling on the cobblestones, “this letter is from Sir Gawain. He bids you and your knights come to him where he has a mighty joust to undertake. He sends assurance of his devotion to the queen and asks that she and her ladies should also come.” He finished, and Arthur perused the letter. Guinevere hastened to join him and read it too, both moved to tears that they had at last heard from their favourite nephew.
“It has been so long!” said Guinevere, “Four and a half years we have waited for news of him. Some thought him dead and we have been prepared for the worst.”
“He is well,” said the squire, “but he was grievously wounded in his struggles at the Castle of Wonders. Now he is the master there.”
“The Castle of Wonders! Now I understand a little more,” added Arthur. “But in this letter he says he is to fight King Gramoflanz. I am surprised at this king’s arrogance. I know he killed Cidegast and since then many knights have perished in combat with him, but he will find Gawain of a different mettle.”
Great was the joy as the news of Gawain spread amongst the knights and ladies of the castle. There was no doubt in the minds of Arthur and Guinevere that they must be reunited with Gawain at the plain of Joflanze, where this great contest would take place.
The following day the squire set off back to Sir Gawain, and when he arrived was subject to questioning again by Arnive. She was determined to find out where he had been and what Gawain was planning.
“My lady, I cannot tell. I swore on oath to Sir Gawain; surely you would not want me to break my oath?”
“It won’t be breaking your oath just to tell me where you went. Remember, I am a queen and may command a humble squire.”
“Yes, of course, I must obey when you command. But please, ask Sir Gawain yourself. It is more than my life is worth to disobey him.” Tears came to his eyes as he struggled with his conflicting loyalties, and Arnive felt sorry for him and allowed him to dash off to Gawain with his news. The squire also told him about Arnive’s questioning and Gawain assured him he had behaved quite properly, as all would become clear soon. He decided, however, to take Arnive a little more into his confidence and sought an opportunity to talk to her alone. The next afternoon he noticed her walking in the orangery and went down to meet her.
“Dear queen, I know my tasks are not yet over here, and I have important matters to communicate to you, but first, I beg you, tell me more of this Castle of Wonders and the magician Klingsor from whom I have won it.”
“That is not a pleasant story and I only know part of it. Cannot you be content with what you have achieved?”
“Content? Yes, in a way, but I wish to understand more. I know I survived the ordeal of the Lit Merveil, and through my successful leap of the Ford Perilous I have gained the Wreath of Virtue, but I do not understand how this all came about. How did you, and Orgeluse, and all the others, fall under Klingsor’s enchantment? Though I may have achieved much, I still have to fight King Gramoflanz and he is connected to this through Orgeluse. I owe you much, for you saved my life when you healed my wounds after the struggle with the lion. And Orgeluse has taught me what true love is. I owe everything to you both.”
Arnive looked at him a little sadly, and then they both sat down on a bench in the shade of a fine old tree.
“Klingsor’s magic is strong and his domain is wide, but he did not always dedicate his life to exploiting weakness and causing misery. His land is called Terre de Merveil, but he once lived in Sicily and was famed far and wide for his honour, nobility and scholarship. However, he became enamoured of Iblis, the wife of the king of Sicily. and became her servitor. She was so flattered by the attention of such a famous man and taken with his charms that she granted him her love. But the secret became known and it came to the ears of the king. One day he deliberately returned unexpectedly and found Klingsor in his wife’s arms. He did not hesitate for a moment, for it was all planned. Iblis was hurried out of the room while the king and his men castrated Klingsor and flung him out of the castle.
“Klingsor’s rage at this humiliation was terrible. From that time on, he devoted himself to the black arts, for he swore that if he could no longer enjoy the fruits of desire, neither would others. He found ways to enslave both men and women to their passions and torment them with their unrequited desires.”
She paused, and glanced at Gawain, who was listening attentively, and then looked away.
“You are wondering how I came to be imprisoned here,” she said. “It is not only through your deeds that Klingsor has his power, but also your thoughts.”
There was a silence, and Gawain looked over at the oranges ripening on the warm wall of the garden.
She continued, “One king, fearing Klingsor’s power, gave him this castle and in return asked the magician to leave him alone. Then Klingsor built the tower that holds the magical pillar you saw. The castle can withstand any attack, but Klingsor promised he would renounce his power if anyone could survive the tests. You have done that, so now you are master of the castle. It remains for you to give us our freedom. We are many men and women, both Christian and infidel, and it lies within your power to release us.”
Her story came to an end, and Gawain waited a moment before speaking.
“Madam,” he said, “you may rest assured I will do all I can to bring that about. But, in the meantime, I still have the contest with King Gramoflanz, and I must survive that first.”
At that moment, a messenger came hurrying through the garden to announce that an army was approaching. Great columns of men had been seen from the watchtower.
Gawain and Arnive hurried to the battlements and, sure enough, an enormous army was winding its way down the valley. Gawain recognised the approaching force and was moved to tears, because it was so long since he had seen King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, who had been like a father and mother to him. However, he did not yet tell Arnive who was arriving, as he wanted to arrange her meeting with Arthur carefully. She assumed that the army belonged to Orgeluse and accounted for Gawain’s emotion in that way. Meanwhile, she was enjoying the pomp and splendour of the many pennants and flags fluttering in the breeze.
Gawain sent down instructions for Arthur’s army to camp in the direction of the plain of Joflanze, and soon a mighty hubbub arose as the squires and serving men set about erecting the colourful pavilions. These were arranged in circles, with King Arthur’s at the centre, and soon there was a whole city of pavilions in red, yellow, blue and green stripes and patterns; pennants in the shape of dragons and birds; and flags of many hundreds of noble families. There were gaily dressed ladies moving around the encampment in twos and threes, and servants scurried hither and thither, fetching water, setting up trestles and lighting fires, while barrels of wine and ale were rolled off the wagons and supplies unloaded.
Gawain watched with delight and planned the meeting for the following day, sending out orders to all the knights and ladies of the Castle of Wonders to make ready for a grand procession.
The following morning it took some time to ferry all the knights and ladies across the river, but at last it was done and it was a very fine company that formed up to greet Arthur. Gawain led the procession with his sister Itonje, and behind him rode Orgeluse and Arnive. Lischois escorted Cundry, and Turkoite, Sangive. All the rest followed in pairs, completely encircling King Arthur’s camp. When the circle was complete, Sir Gawain led the ladies forward to Arthur’s pavilion, where he was greeted with delight by the king and Guinevere. When the initial joy subsided, Gawain introduced his companions, and you can imagine the joy and surprise, the excitement and the tears, as Arthur was reunited with his mother, Arnive. Quickly, Sangive, Itonje and Cundry realised that Gawain was their son and brother.
“But who is the fifth lady?” asked Arthur after the tears of joy had all been shed.
“Ah!�
�� said Gawain. “This is Orgeluse, Duchess of Logres.”
“I have heard much of you,” exclaimed Arthur, accepting her curtsey with kingly grace. “Many of my knights have either perished or been imprisoned in your service.”
Orgeluse coloured slightly, but reassured Arthur that all the captives had now been released. They then agreed that Gawain, with the duchess’s army, would set up camp next to Arthur’s on the plain of Joflanze and await the arrival of King Gramoflanz and his army. The date for the contest was almost upon them and all had to be made ready. The lists had to be drawn out and the viewing platform erected, and soon orders were issued and work set in motion.
That evening they all feasted together and Gawain told of his adventures. When the men were alone, they discussed the coming contest and Gawain told Arthur all he knew about King Gramoflanz. Arthur was much concerned and sent off a messenger to the king.
“Tell him that Sir Gawain is my nephew and I ask him to renounce this combat. If he refuses, I will not answer for the consequences. If he is determined to maintain his hostility, I bid him to come to me here and explain himself before my court.”
As it was already late, it was decided the messenger would leave early the following morning, and they all retired to bed.
Gawain examined his wounds carefully and determined that he could put on his full armour the next day without risk of them opening up again. Satisfied with his recovery, he slept soundly and rose early the next morning, before the camp was generally awake. He called for his squire to saddle Gringuljete and, in full armour, he rode out to inspect the lists. He wanted to have some practice runs before the combat.
However, when he arrived at his destination, he saw a fully armed knight, mounted and, to all intents and purposes, waiting for him.
Chapter 14
Gawain eyed the knight curiously – was this King Gramoflanz already? The horses sensed the tension between the riders and both began to stamp and snort and make little nervous movements. The knight was wearing a wreath on his helmet and so Gawain immediately assumed that it must be Gramoflanz. However, he had no further time to speculate because the knight lowered his lance and drove his spurs into his horse’s side. It leapt forward. Gawain hesitated no longer and the two hurtled towards each other across the plain. They came together with a mighty crash and both lances splintered into pieces. They wheeled their horses and, swords drawn, began a mounted duel.
While this was taking place, the messengers from King Arthur arrived at Gramoflanz’s camp. They found him in the centre of the camp, seated on a couch and shaded by an awning of silk held up on twelve spears. Numerous maidens were attending to arming the proud king, lacing his armour and buckling on his breastplate. He was in an excellent humour and pleased that soon King Arthur would see his magnificent host.
“Greetings from King Arthur and Queen Guinevere!” The messenger swept a low bow, brushing the ground with his plumed hat in a graceful curve. “He bids me tell you that Sir Gawain is not only a member of the Round Table, whose fame is spread across the whole world, but also his most puissant majesty’s nephew. He has done you no harm, and the king wishes to inform you that a challenge against Sir Gawain is a challenge to the Round Table.”
The messenger finished, and there was a pause as Gramoflanz waved the maidens aside and got up from his couch. He looked the messenger in the eye, considered a haughty response, then glanced at the ring sparkling on his finger. Bene had just delivered this new love token to him from Itonje and the sight of it made him think more deeply about his response to Arthur’s messenger. Instead, he adopted a conciliatory tone.
“I have the deepest respect for King Arthur and it would be the greatest honour for me to be received by Queen Guinevere. However, I must fight this battle. All my army has come to witness it and, what is more, my beloved, Itonje, will see it too.” Here he glanced again at the ring on his finger. “You know I am not accustomed to fighting only one man, so it does Sir Gawain great honour that I have acceded to this contest. I cannot now renege on the agreement we made when he claimed the wreath from my tree. Tell King Arthur the engagement must proceed.”
With that, Gramoflanz kissed his ring and, escorted by twelve maidens on their palfreys who held the silken canopy over his head, left to finish preparing himself for the fight.
Without further ado, the messengers turned and galloped back to their camp. The way led over the lists where the contest should take place, and it was with great surprise that they found two knights already fighting. It did not take them long to recognise Gawain, who, by this time, was getting the worst of it. Both men had dismounted and were dealing each other crashing blows to helmet and shield. Gawain had just been struck a particularly violent blow and was staggering back, when one of the messengers called out, “Sir Gawain! Sir Gawain! Why are you fighting here? What has happened?”
As Gawain sank to his knees, the other knight stepped back and threw his sword to one side, as if in disgust. He unlaced his helmet and pulled it off. It was Parzival.
“Gawain! What have I done? Fortune has dishonoured me in leading me to this combat. How could I have fought with my own soulmate? Gawain, I have vanquished myself.”
There were tears in his eyes as he spoke, he was so distraught at what had come about.
The messenger rushed to Gawain to help him back on his feet again and then to remove his helmet. Gawain grinned ruefully, “You should have told me who you were – I thought you were Gramoflanz. This should never have happened. We would never fight each other. You’re right – your victory is over yourself.” He staggered as dizziness overcame him, and Parzival stepped forward to support him.
This was the sight that greeted King Gramoflanz as he arrived at the lists in all his pomp, already imagining how the crowd would roar and how his magnificent armour would be admired. He frowned. This was quite wrong. What was Sir Gawain doing? Who was this other knight? To make matters worse, Bene, who was riding with him and had a particular fondness for Gawain, jumped off her horse and ran over to him.
“What has happened? You, who are the mirror of perfection!” She took a napkin and began to wipe the blood and sweat from Gawain’s face.
Gramoflanz could hardly conceal his anger. “I don’t understand how this has come about, but there is no point in fighting you now. I might as well fight one of the ladies of the court. I suggest you go back and recover and we postpone the joust until tomorrow.”
Parzival, nettled by Gramoflanz’s tone, turned to him as he picked up his sword. “I will fight you. Gawain is my kinsman. I don’t know what your quarrel is, but I will gladly take it on.”
Gramoflanz looked at him and received a steadfast gaze in return.
“No, that is quite impossible,” he spluttered, “my engagement is with Sir Gawain. It is what we agreed when he took the wreath from my tree.” He noticed that Parzival also had a wreath on his helmet and was about to comment on it, when Bene turned on him.
“You treacherous dog! Do you realise what you are doing? Do you call this love? Sir Gawain is Itonje’s brother. How can you hope to please her by killing him?”
Gramoflanz, much confused, hastened to try to explain why he had to fight Gawain above all others, and at the same time begged Bene to continue taking messages between him and Itonje. She only reluctantly agreed before riding off with Gawain and Parzival back to the camp.
There, Gawain made much of Parzival and soon word spread and all was excitement, for Arthur and his court had heard much about Parzival’s heroic exploits over the years and his reputation preceded him. Gawain gave orders for the finest clothing to be brought and soon they were both bathed and freshly clothed. Many people remarked how similar they looked, both dressed alike. Gawain took great pleasure in introducing Parzival to all his relations, and it was only with Orgeluse that it was a little awkward. She found it hard to give a kiss of welcome to the man who had refused her when she had attempted to enlist his aid in carrying out her revenge on Gramoflanz. Her
pride had been wounded, but she had to overcome it now. Gawain even sat them next to each other at the feast that evening, while he took Bene to one side to tell her how important it was that Itonje should not know that it was Gramoflanz he was to fight. Bene acceded to Gawain’s wish, but Itonje soon guessed that something was wrong.
“What can this mean, that Bene has been crying?” she thought to herself. “What has Gramoflanz said? Did he not like the token I sent? Why is she sad?”
Itonje was about to question Bene when she was interrupted by the arrival of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere. They were both eager to welcome Parzival and impatient to find out what had happened since he had been forced to leave their court all those years ago. After the formal greetings, Parzival reminded them of the occasion.
“It is with the greatest joy, but also apprehension, that I meet you now. I am only too aware of the humiliating circumstances in which I left you.”
“Come, come, the tales of your exploits have spread far and wide, and we have long waited for this day,” said Arthur.
“You are the model of knighthood towards which all our squires strive,” added the queen, “and all our ladies admire your constancy.”
Parzival looked down modestly and then went on. “I have two requests: that I be now accepted into the the Company of the Round Table, and, secondly, that you allow me to take on the contest with King Gramoflanz on behalf of my friend Gawain. Only this morning, I took a wreath from Gramoflanz’s tree and came here expressly to challenge him. I did not expect to find you here, dear Gawain, and I regret nothing so much as having fought you. Allow me to take your part tomorrow.” Gawain smiled broadly at the brotherly tone Parzival used, but answered, “I can’t let you do that. I am not so badly hurt that I can’t take him on tomorrow.”