In Camelot’s Shadow: Book One of The Paths to Camelot Series (Prologue Fantasy) (31 page)

Women screamed and started backward, knocking over chairs and benches. All the men in the hall leapt up, but not one of them was armed. Only Gawain still had his sword, and he grasped the hilt at once to draw it out, but Arthur’s hand clamped down on his wrist like iron.

“Greetings to you good men!” The green rider’s voice boomed like merry thunder. “And my duty to your good ladies! I seek Arthur, who is called by men the High King.”

Gawain’s hand shook to draw his sword, but his uncle held him fast and Arthur’s voice rang out through the hall, as strong as steel and steady as stone. “I am Arthur, and I am called High King. Who might you be, Sir, who comes so bold before this assembly?”

“As you see, King Arthur, I am the
Equite Caeruleus
— the Green Knight!” He spread his arms wide, inviting all to admire his magnificence. His grin, too, spread wide, displaying straight, even teeth that were as green as the rest of him.

Gawain saw one muscle twitch high in Arthur’s cheek, but that was the only sign of concern he gave for this extraordinary vision that appeared before him. At Arthur’s left hand, Guinevere sat still as a statue. All the ladies at the high table tried to huddle behind her, but she herself made no move to show what fear she felt, if any at all.

“And for what reason do you come here, Sir Knight?” asked Arthur.

“For the only reason warriors should meet. For a challenge!” He was grinning from ear to ear now. He planted the haft of his axe against his stirrup and his other fist against his hip. “It would be a sorry May Day to pass without some sport.”

The Green Knight had turned his gaze to Gawain. Gawain felt it before he saw it. It was as if a hand had touched his shoulder. “I am told Gawain son of Lot Luddoc is a merry gamester and well suited to accept a challenge from a fellow warrior,” said the knight.

Arthur tightened his grip in warning, but Gawain could not keep his silence this time. He pressed against his uncle’s hand so that Arthur would feel his hand moving away from his sword. Arthur reluctantly let him go.

Gawain pulled his shoulders up straight. “I am Gawain. How is it you know my name, Sir?”

The Green Knight raised his eyebrows archly. “How not?” he barked the words like a sharp laugh. “That name is cried from one end of this land to the other. Cried in the night by weeping women who are carried far from home and are seeking succor, cried in the day by men with dark eyes and dark hearts who cherish their victories over the bold and the valiant.”

Gawain felt the blood drain from his face. His hand shook as he struggled to keep it from reaching again for his sword.

“Uncle,” he murmured, not taking his gaze from the gigantic apparition waiting so cheerfully in the center of the hall. Around it, stood the whole of Arthur’s cadre and their ladies; some frozen halfway to their feet, some clasping hands anxiously to bosom or side, seeking weapons that were not there. “Let me take up this challenge. He speaks of Risa. He must. This is some magician’s apparition, surely sent by Euberacon to bedevil m … us.”

But Arthur did not waiver. “Peace, Gawain. We know nothing of his nature or his challenge. Merlin will be here within moments. Do nothing.”

But this thing, this giant, knew of Risa, and of Euberacon. There could be no other explanation for its words, not so soon after her disappearance. Whatever his challenge, it did not matter. Gawain would best it, and he would wring what it knew out of it with his bare hands if he must. “Sir, I beg you.”

“I said peace, Gawain.” Though barely spoken above a whisper, the words were filled with command. In front of all the court, Gawain had no choice but to obey.

“Sir Knight,” Arthur again addressed the giant. Gawain had seen Arthur on the battlefield, facing a line of the enemy, he had seen him in single combat stepping back to give a strong foe room to rise, but he had never seen him display more courage than so calmly facing this giant that rode into his own hall. “You cannot expect me to release my best knight on a challenge before I hear what it is. I must judge whether it is fitting to his merits and his honor.”

“Hear, hear,” muttered Kai, for how could Kai keep himself silent even under such circumstances? “Simply facing down a giant would not be enough for the glory of our Gawain.” But Gawain heard how tightly he spoke and saw how his fist clenched around his crutch which rested where his sword should have hung.

The Green Knight pursed his lips and nodded sagaciously, but none of the merriment left his eyes. “Fairly spoken,” he acknowledged. “Very well. What I propose is a game of blows. The knight who challenges me may strike me one blow with this axe.” He brandished the great weapon he carried with him. It was four, no five, times the size of the weapon a man might wield. “If I fail to rise from that blow, he will have of me one boon. Whatsoever he may ask will I grant. But should I rise, he must come to the Green Temple and accept one blow with the same weapon from my hand.”

One boon. Whatsoever he may ask
. This stank so hard of magic, Gawain felt sick in the pit of his stomach, but what magic promised, magic must bring. Even Gawain knew that was the way of it. With one blow he could find Euberacon and free Risa. He was near to striding forward and wrenching the axe from the giant, and he was sure his uncle knew it.

“‘Tis a strange game you propose, Sir.”

Merlin stood in the threshold. Gawain had not even seen him arrive. He was as Gawain had seen him before, in his black robe and cap with his white staff in his gnarled hands, but some trick of light or perception, or perhaps a trick of Merlin’s art, made him seem as tall and imperious in presence as the Green Knight on his war horse, and Gawain felt again the boyish fear he had felt in the shadows of the cottage. What the Green Knight felt as he turned to see Merlin stalk into the great hall, Gawain could not even fathom.

It did not, however, seem to be fear. “Ah!” the Green Knight cried, as if he had caught sight of some long-absent friend. “I wondered when you would appear.”

“You know me then?” inquired the magician.

The Green Knight nodded once. “I know you, Merlin, No Man’s Son. But do you know me?”

Merlin stood before him for a long time, staring into the eyes as rich and green as the forest at high summer. It seemed to Gawain that for a moment the old sorcerer paled and his hands clenched his staff a little more tightly and Merlin’s stature seemed to dwindle, though not his shrewd presence.

“It is a cold and a dangerous game you propose, Sir.” Merlin addressed the words the Green Knight, but his gaze was on Gawain. “And a great risk to ask of a man for the pleasure of sport.”

“The easy road does not lead to glory.”

Gawain started to hear words he had spoken to Risa so nearly matched. Surely, surely, this creature knew what had happened to her. It was Euberacon’s creature, some demon summoned to do his will. He would have it and its boon if he had to renounce his position in Arthur’s hall do it.

“It’s a trap, Gawain.”

When had Agravain moved? Gawain had not even felt his brother come up behind him any more than he had seen Merlin arrive at the doors of the hall. All his attention had been focused on the Green Knight.

“It already has your wits ensnared,” whispered Agravain urgently. “Do not do this. Let Arthur deal with it, and Merlin. This once, Gawain, keep your head.”

There was truth in the words his brother spoke, but it did not matter. This might be his only chance to find where Risa had been taken, and he could not brush it aside.

He faced Arthur. “Uncle, for my honor, and that of yourself and your court, let me answer this challenge.”

Gawain watched his uncle’s face shift. He was on the verge of refusal. Gawain’s spirits plummeted. Could he really renounce liege and loyalty for the love of Risa? If Arthur refused him permission, that was what he would have to do. Then even when he found her, he would be a beggar, perhaps without even his horse or sword. Arthur was a man of mercy, but he was also a man of laws, and he would not permit his nephew’s return once Gawain chose of his own will to leave in defiance.

“Merlin said that my way would be shown to me and soon,” said Gawain, and he heard the desperation in his own words. “And now this … creature has come. Please, uncle. Even if it has naught to do with Risa, we know the Saxons are using magics of their own against you. We cannot leave this matter unquestioned and is there anyone else in this hall aside from you and myself who has a chance in striking a telling blow against this monster?” He hoped Lancelot had not heard. Now was not the time for the voluble Gaul to start arguing points of honor. If Gawain failed, there would be work enough for Lancelot to do.

Arthur looked across to Merlin and to Gawain’s relief, Merlin nodded.

“Do as you must and may God be with you.” Arthur stood aside.

Gawain felt Agravain move toward him, but he did not look back. He walked down the dais steps, his gaze straight ahead.

Gawain felt himself dwindling to the stature of a boy as he approached the Green Knight. Even when the giant leapt nimbly from the back of his gigantic horse, it still seemed his head all but brushed the vaulting roof beams.

“Here is a true man!” the giant boomed. “Do you accept my challenge then, Sir Gawain?”

“If I strike you a blow with your axe from which you cannot rise, then I will win from you a boon of my own choosing, and nothing is excluded from this.”

“So I have spoken,” said the Green Knight firmly.

Gawain’s mouth had gone completely dry, but he made himself speak on. “And if that blow should kill you, Sir? What then?”

Again the Green Knight laughed and the thunder of it seemed to shake the very stones beneath Gawain’s feet. “Even then you shall have your prize, Sir Gawain. Even then, I swear on my own head!” He grew serious, then, and Gawain’s heart quailed within him. “But should I rise from that blow, you will follow me to the Green Temple and there accept my blow with my same axe.”

It was a dreadful and perilous gamble. Gawain had never heard of the Green Temple and had no idea where it lay, and if he had to go on such a quest, he would have to abandon Risa to her fate. What if this were a game to
keep
him from her? If he was wrong, if he failed … but he could not think of that. He had gone too far now to turn back.

“I swear it,” said Gawain.

“And you, King Arthur,” a sly note crept into the Green Knight’s voice, “you will stand surety for your man here?”

Trap!
Gawain’s mind and soul screamed Agravain’s warning at him.
It is a trap and it closes on Arthur as well as on you!
But Gawain did not move, nor did he speak.

God and Mary forgive me
, he prayed earnestly.
I don’t know what else to do
.

“I will,” said Arthur, and there was no trace of hesitation or doubt in those words.

Asking forgiveness now was useless. His choices all were made. He could not fail. Grim finality settled over Gawain like a mantle.

“Then, Sir,” the Green Knight held his weapon out to Gawain. “Do you take the axe and strike your blow, and let us see how it shall land.”

Gawain grasped the axe with both hands. The sheer weight of it caught him off guard and he almost staggered as the Green Knight let go. He stood there for a moment, hefting it in his hands, letting his arms and his body get a feel for the balance and weight of the massive weapon. The metal of its blade was neither iron nor steel, but gleamed both green and silver, the color of frost on the grass. Its edge was keen, though, that much he could tell simply by looking. The green haft curved smoothly against his palms. It was too big for his hands by far, but he could still close his fingers around it. It was a good axe, beautifully forged and deadly. He could never wield such a thing in battle, but one blow … one blow he could deal out.

He took the measure of the giant before him. One blow from which this monster could not rise. His heart went cold and still as he made his calculations. He had a thousand times made such decisions in hot blood on the field — where is the weakness, where is the opening? But never before on a man who simply stood with his feet planted firm and square, and smiled.

Think of Risa, snatched away by a witch’s brood. Think of Risa calling your name so far away you cannot hear. Think of Arthur falling before the Saxon magics and the ravens holding court in this hall
.

Think of Risa and strike as you know you must
.

Gawain raised the axe. Sliding his hands together along the haft, he swung it back. With a wordless cry that shook the whole of his being, he brought it round, aiming the edge straight and true for the giant’s neck.

He felt the blow strike home, felt flesh and sinew and bone part cleanly for the blade’s keen edge. With barely any loss of momentum the swing continued, carrying Gawain around in a warrior’s pirouette. The grisly thing, the head of the Green Knight cut clean from its body, rolled across the stones, coming to a halt at the foot of the dais.

But the Green Knight’s torso did not fall.

The strength left Gawain’s hands at once, and the axe thudded to the floor. Before the dais, the Green Knight’s eyes opened wide and his thick lips whistled once. The torso did not waiver nor did it hesitate. It strode over to its head and retrieved it, tucking it neatly under its arm. Then it picked up its axe while Gawain stood amazed past the point of movement.

Thus encumbered, the Green Knight leapt onto the back of his horse, landing neatly in the saddle.

“A fine blow, Sir Gawain,” said the knight’s head. “I look forward to meeting you at the Green Temple to return the courtesy!”

The body touched its heels to the horse’s sides and the animal trotted obediently from the great hall, and was gone.

Gawain stared. There was not even blood on the stones to mark what had passed. He felt as if he must be in the midst of some strange dream. The court milled about him, murmuring, wailing, thundering, wringing hands and shaking heads, but he could only stare at the doors, and hear over and again his own promises, and the final words of the Green Knight ringing in his ears.