The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf (8 page)

"He was right," said Terence quietly, "but Gaheris is worth a dozen of Dinadan anyway." Lynet peeked at Roger, who was staring at Terence. The squire stood and stretched, like a cat. "Well, I know you questing ladies have to keep moving. Give this other rabbit to your champion, will you? He may be hungrier later. I'll be off now, but if you don't mind I'll check on you again."

"I'll look forward to it," Lynet said, smiling. And then Terence disappeared into the forest. Lynet looked at Roger, puzzled. "Why didn't Terence know you, Roger, if you used to serve this Gaheris?"

"I was only with him a short time on one of his journeys," the dwarf said.

"But still, you might have been able to tell him something that would help Sir Gawain find him."

Roger shook his head and said nothing.

"Cheery place, this," Roger commented. "Lovely spot for a funeral, I'd think."

They were traveling on a narrow path through the closest, darkest, most ominous-looking forest Lynet had ever seen. The sun was almost completely obscured, and ivy and mistletoe hung low over their
heads. Then, as if the natural gloom were not enough, someone had hung long strips of black cloth over some of the branches, and they fluttered gently in the breath of wind that penetrated the trees. Lynet felt the darkness of the path as a chill in her heart.

"What's that?" she asked. On a low branch ahead of them hung something round and dark.

"Looks as though someone's hung a shield up there," Roger said, riding closer. "And there's a lance beside it. Both of them black, of course. Not very imaginative decorations around here. Old Griflet would be appalled."

At the thought of the brightly dressed courtier back at Camelot, Lynet's spirits lifted, and she allowed herself a smile.

"That's the dandy, my lady," Roger said softly. "Don't be cast down by someone's decorations. Any fool can paint a shield black. And look, just past the shield there's a clearing."

It was true; a gap in the trees ahead allowed in a bit more light. "Thank heaven," Lynet muttered.

"Who's there?" came a gruff shout. Lynet took a quick breath, and then they were out of the trees in the clearing, facing a large man in armor as black as coal.

Lynet could only stare, but Beaumains, who had been quiet all day, spoke. "We are travelers seeking a way through this forest."

The man in black smiled with a fierce delight. "A knight!" he exclaimed. "How splendid! Ready your armor for battle!"

Lynet shook off her wonder and said, "Oh for heaven's sake! Why should he? All we want is to pass through."

The Black Knight laughed harshly. "No one passes through here unless they pass through me. If you are a commoner, you pay me a toll. If you are a knight, you fight." He laughed again. "But if you fight, you do not pass. For here you die."

"What a stupid custom!" Lynet protested. "What good can it possibly do you to fight and kill strangers?"

The Black Knight frowned at her, then grinned. He was missing several teeth. "A spirited lady, now! You need taming! Is this knight by your side able to break you to halter as I could?"

Lynet felt suddenly cold inside as she looked into the leering eyes of the huge man, but she forced herself to be calm. "This? This is no knight! This is a kitchen boy who's put on someone else's armor. You'll gain no manly glory by fighting this one. Why don't you let us by and wait for someone more worthy of you?"

The knight stepped closer with an insolent swagger. "A kitchen boy, eh? I ought to thrash him for pretending to be his better. Well, if you have no knight to fight me, then you must pay a toll. I'll take
the boy's armor and horse, of course." He paused. "And the lady."

Lynet gasped and edged backwards. From the corner of her eye, she saw Roger's hand steal back and rest on the haft of his sword, but then Beaumains spoke.

"You'll take no toll from us, cowardly knight! Either surrender your arms to me at once, or prepare to fight!"

The knight laughed coarsely. "Ho! A kitchen boy with grand ideas! Very well. I'd as soon kill the child first anyway." Turning toward Lynet he said, "Watch closely. Observe your new master, the Knight of the Black Woods."

Beaumains drew his sword and dismounted, and the battle began. It probably took no more than fifteen minutes, but to Lynet it seemed hours. The Black Knight was a skilled and experienced fighter, but every thrust, every attack that he made was somehow parried. Far faster than his opponent, Beaumains was everywhere, here slipping away from a heavy swing, there flashing a quick blow to an unprotected place on the Black Knight's armor. Some of these blows must have hit home, for soon Lynet saw smears of blood on the black iron. She could hear the Black Knight's labored breathing, but Beaumains was ominously silent. And then, leaping and swinging and turning all in one fluid movement, Beaumains reached through the Black Knight's defenses, rapping his helm
so sharply that it fairly flew off his head and across the clearing. Bareheaded now, the Black Knight raised his sword again, refusing to yield. "Who are you?" he managed to gasp, just before Beaumains severed his head from his shoulders.

Lynet turned away from the gory scene, but her heart beat with an odd exhilaration, and she sighed in relief. Roger gently guided his horse between Lynet and the corpse, and he said simply, "Well done, Beau."

Beaumains removed his helm and brushed his fair hair away from his proud face. He looked at Lynet, a hint of challenge in his eyes, and Lynet swallowed. "Beaumains, I ... thank you. And I'm sorry. I've been a terrible shrew on this journey, I know, but ... I really didn't mean ... I didn't want you to be hurt, so I tried to talk people out of fighting you. I was protecting you, I thought, but now ... now you've protected me. Thank you."

Beaumains bowed to her with the grace of a true courtier, and Lynet's heart beat very fast indeed as she looked at the handsome warrior who had delivered her. Roger turned his back to them both and sat very quietly, looking into the dark woods.

It was over an hour before they could resume their journey, because Beaumains had taken a liking to the Knight of the Black Woods's armor and had to trade it for the armor Sir Kai had given him. This took a while, since the armor was a bit messy and had to be cleaned. Lynet steadfastly looked the other way.

The delay gave Lynet time to regain her composure. From the moment that the Black Knight had threatened her until the moment that Beaumains struck off the knight's head, Lynet's heart had pounded with a potent mixture of fear and fascination. Her stammered apology and thanks to Beaumains had sprung from relief and from an odd shyness. When at last the three travelers were ready to continue, Lynet was outwardly calm, but suspecting that she would be too
self-conscious riding beside her handsome defender, she chose to ride with Roger instead.

"Roger?" she asked quietly, after several minutes of silence.

"Mmm?"

"Beaumains is ... he's quite good with a sword, isn't he?"

Roger glanced at her quizzically, but only said, "One of the best."

The blunt statement took her by surprise. "Really?" she asked, lowering her voice even more.

"Ay. Gawain's better, of course, and Sir Lancelot—wherever he is. Tor could match him, I think, and maybe this Saracen chap, Sir Palomides, who's been in the south recently. Beyond that, I can't think of his equal." He turned in his saddle to look at Beaumains, who was dropping farther and farther behind. "Stay in sight, Beau!" he called. "Don't want you to get lost!"

Lynet pondered the dwarf's words for a minute, then said, "He's more than just a kitchen knave, isn't he?"

Roger hesitated, but said at last, "Seems that way."

Eagerly, Lynet continued, "Do you think he's really a knight? In disguise?"

"What do you think, my lady?"

Lynet nodded quickly. "I think he is. I think he's really a famous knight who wanted to be unrecognized in Arthur's court. That would explain why he hid himself from Squire Terence. He was afraid that Terence
would know him if he saw him without his beard and long hair." Lynet allowed herself a small smile. "He
does
look different now," she added dreamily.

Roger ignored this last comment. "Why wouldn't he want to be recognized?"

Lynet paused. "I don't know. Didn't he say something about a quest earlier? Maybe hiding his name is part of it. A vow or something."

"Sounds a bit loony, doesn't it?" Roger's voice was expressionless.

Part of Lynet rather agreed with Roger, but only a small part. "I wouldn't say that," she protested.

Roger sighed softly. "No, I didn't think you would."

"We can't judge him until we understand his motives," Lynet said stiffly.

"Very true," replied Roger. He turned again. "Come
on,
Beau!"

Beaumains had fallen behind again when at last Roger and Lynet rode out of the dark forest. The setting sun ahead of them gave an orange tint to the neat, carefully cultivated fields before them. On a small rise was a well-kept manor house. A man on horseback, evidently returning to the manor from a ride in the fields, stopped and stared at them.

"What ho, travelers!" he called. "You look tired!"

Lynet smiled at his open, friendly greeting. "We are, rather," she said.

"We don't get many wayfarers along here," the man
said, riding closer. "Especially ladies. The forest is a bit much for most of them, I think. Dreadful place, wouldn't you say?"

"Horrible!" Lynet assented.

"You must stay the night with me! Much better than a cold campfire, I should think. Do say yes!"

Lynet hesitated, but Roger nodded slowly. "We thank you, sir," he said.

The man smiled brightly. "Then it's settled. My name is Sir Pertelope. Are you alone?"

"No," Lynet answered. "We've a knight with us. He should be along soon."

At that moment, Beaumains rode out of the forest, and Sir Pertelope's friendly face fell. "Is that your knight?" he asked.

"That's right," replied Lynet.

"Then I am sorry for you, my lady." Lynet remembered suddenly that Beaumains was wearing the Black Knight's armor. She started to explain that her knight was not the Knight of the Black Woods, but Sir Pertelope called to Beaumains first. "Hello, brother."

"Brother?" asked Roger.

"My eldest brother," Sir Pertelope said grimly.

"The Knight of the Black Woods?" Roger asked. Sir Pertelope nodded. Roger took a deep breath and said, "No, friend. That is only your brother's armor.
The knight inside is named Beaumains." Roger's voice was gentle.

Sir Pertelope looked searchingly at the dwarf, then at the approaching Beaumains. At last he said, "I must ask. How did this Beaumains come by my brother's armor?"

"It was a fair fight," Roger said. Sir Pertelope seemed to sag. Roger continued, "I'm sorry, friend, but your brother had threatened the lady."

"I believe it," Sir Pertelope said. "But still, he was my brother." Beaumains joined the group, and Sir Pertelope sat upright in his saddle. "Whence came you by that armor, sirrah?" he demanded, in a different voice.

"But Roger just told you—" began Lynet. Roger laid his hand on her arm and shook his head.

"I took it from a scurrilous knave, a recreant knight of no honor," replied Beaumains.

"That knight was my brother!" declared Sir Pertelope. "For his sake must I do battle!"

"So be it!" replied Beaumains. "Appoint thyself to thine armor, and I shall await thee on yon field."

"Are you both crazy?" Lynet demanded, but Sir Pertelope ignored her. He turned and cantered toward the manor house, and Beaumains turned the other way toward the field he had indicated. Lynet looked at Roger. "They're off their heads!"

Roger shrugged. "I tried to stop it," he said.

"Why does Sir Pertelope want to fight?"

"He doesn't. But it was his brother."

"But his brother was a bounder! A fiend! He was vermin!"

"Ay, and he knows it, too. But it was his brother, you see."

"And what if he gets killed trying to avenge his stinker of a relative? What will that prove?" Roger didn't answer. "Would you risk your life for the sake of a worthless brother?"

Roger did not speak for a long time. At last he nodded. "I already have, my lady. And I may again." Lynet started to speak, but Roger continued, "And before you say anything, let me remind you that you've come all this way for the sake of a sister you don't care so much for either."

A finality in Roger's voice told Lynet that he was through talking, and she decided not to argue, especially since he was right. They sat in silence for several minutes until Sir Pertelope reappeared from the manor, fully armed.

"Gracious, look at that," Lynet exclaimed in surprise. The man's armor, from top to toe, was bright green.

Roger's severe expression lightened, and his lips twitched. "Lovely, isn't it?"

The two knights spurred their mounts and came together with a crash that left the Green Knight on his
back in the turf. Then Beaumains dismounted, and they drew their swords. Though Sir Pertelope was not exactly a novice, it was clear even to Lynet's untutored eyes that Beaumains was far more skillful. At last, Beaumains struck the sword from the Green Knight's hand. Sir Pertelope sank on his knees in surrender and bowed his head. "I ask your mercy, sir knight," he managed to gasp.

"Your life shall be spared on one condition!" replied Beaumains. "If this lady grants it."

Lynet gasped. "Me?" Sir Pertelope removed his green helm and turned to her, entreaty in his eyes. "Yes, of course!" Lynet added hastily. "Spare his life!" Startled and pleased by Beaumains's deference to her will, she felt a bit giddy.

"Very well," Beaumains said. "And now you must go to King Arthur, at Camelot, and tell what I have done, that he and Sir Kai may know the mettle of Beaumains."

"Those are two conditions, Beau," Roger pointed out. "You said one."

"No, no," the Green Knight said hastily. "No trouble at all. I've been planning a trip north anyway." He climbed slowly to his feet. "And now, Sir Beaumains, would you honor me by taking your rest in my home this evening?"