The Adventures of Sir Givret the Short (4 page)

"'E TOOK ME CLUB AWAY AND BONKED ME OWN 'EAD WITH IT!" shouted Clem.

"Oh, right," Givret said. "You mentioned that, didn't you? Sorry."

"After that, he bonks the rest of us a bit," Sore Arm added. Then he frowned, looking very confused. "And when he's finished, the fellow starts yellin' at the lady for speaking, even though she's just saved his life. Tell me, is this Sir Erec barmy?"

Givret ignored the question. Tossing a few gold coins to the former bandits, he said, "Here. Live on this until you find honest work. You're making the right choice, you know. A bandit never knows when someone will take his club away and, um—"

"WE KNOW! WE KNOW!" shouted Clem.

[[graphic]]

Givret continued following Erec and Enide northeast, generally heading toward Limors. At dusk, Givret came upon four dusty and dented knights trudging down the path on foot. Now, knights
never
travel without horses—walking in armor is no fun—so Givret stopped and stared.

"What are you looking at?" growled a knight in red armor. He carried a badly dented helmet under one arm, and one of his eyes was swollen nearly shut. With his other eye, he was gazing longingly at Givret's horse.

"It looks like a parade," Givret replied. "But your party costumes are all dented."

All the knights snarled at this, and Red said, 'Why don't you get off that horse, little man, and say that?"

Givret stayed out of reach. He had never met a recreant knight, but he was pretty sure these knights were that sort. 'No, thank you," he replied. "I may be little, but I'm not stupid. Not even Sir Lancelot would take on four knights at once."

At that, one of the knights said, "Say, maybe that's it! Maybe it was Sir Lancelot!"

"Shut up!" snapped Red.

"I mean, if we were beaten by Sir Lancelot, it wouldn't be so embarrass—"

"Shut your trap, I said!"

Givret laughed. "You don't mean it! All four of you were beaten by one knight? Alone?"

"He wasn't alone!" said Red. "He had someone with him!"

Then Givret understood. "No, he wasn't alone, was he? He had a lady with him."

"Well, the lady helped!" snarled Red. "If she had not called out a warning, we'd have taken him by surprise, and now we'd have ourselves two fine new horses!"

"Ah! So you meant to steal their horses, so after he'd beaten you, he took
your
horses, right? That's hilarious!" Givret laughed, but none of the knights joined him. After a moment Givret asked, "Say, did the knight seem annoyed at the lady for warning him?"

At this, all the knights turned toward Givret, and Red muttered, "Ay, that he did. He got angry with her for saving him, which made no sense at all. How did you know that? Do you know this knight?"

"I do," replied Givret.

The knight who had spoken before asked eagerly, "Is it Sir Lancelot?"

"No," said Givret. "It was Sir Erec of East Wales."

"What?" gasped Red. "The very one they say has given up fighting so as to hang about his lady's skirts?"

"That's what the rumor says," Givret agreed. "But it isn't true."

"No bleeding joke!" grumbled Red, and Givret rode on.

Givret hadn't caught up with Erec and Enide by nightfall, so he made camp and went to sleep. Before long, though, he was awakened by approaching footsteps. He grabbed his sword, but it was not an attacker who stumbled up to his campfire.

"Enide!" Givret cried.

"Oh, Givret! It's you!" Enide gasped with relief. Then she burst into tears.

Givret let her cry herself out, which took several minutes, then asked, "What are you doing out here alone?"

"Oh, it was just too awful!" Enide wailed. "I tried not to talk, really I did, as hard as I could, because I love Erec so much, but when those people attacked him, I
had
to warn him, didn't I? But then he was so angry and I saw that I could never be a good wife. I might as well be miserable with Count Oringle, if it will make dear Erec happy, but oh, I don't
want
to!"

Hang on there, Enide," Givret asked. 'Who said anything about Count Oringle?"

"Oh, we ran into him just as we were making camp this evening—did you know we were back in Limors? Erec had no idea we'd gone this direction!-and the count seemed very friendly but when Erec went to see to our horses, he whispered to me that he has a hundred soldiers just over that hill, and if I don't leave Erec and go to him before morning, he'll send them to kill Erec! So I decided that since I can't make Erec happy anyway I can at least save his life, so I'm going to leave with horrid Count Oringle, and if I'm very, very lucky, maybe I'll die young."

Givret considered this. "Let me think a moment ... No, there has to be another way. Tell you what, Enide: you go back to Erec, and I'll go see if the wicked count really has any soldiers over that hill."

"You think he might have been lying? I didn't think of that!"

Givret smiled reassuringly. "It's possible. I'll just make sure. The important thing is for you to go back to Erec. Ill see you in the morning."

"But what will you do?"

Givret smiled again, with more confidence than he felt. "Trust me. Ill think of something."

A few minutes later, Givret was on the top of a nearby hill, looking down on a military camp large enough for at least a hundred men. "Bother," he said. "Oringle
wasn't
lying."

Even in the middle of the night, Count Oringle's camp was busy as the army prepared for battle, so it was easy for Givret to stroll into the camp and take a seat by a fire without being noticed. He still didn't have a plan, but he thought something might come to him.

After a moment, a soldier sat beside him, and together they watched two other soldiers sharpening their swords. "Silly duffers," the first soldier said, pointing at the sword sharpeners. 'What do they need sharp swords for, if we ain't allowed to kill this Sir Erec?"

"We're not to kill Sir Erec?" Givret asked, surprised.

"Hadn't you heard?" the soldier asked. "The count's dreadful afraid of some prophecy or other, so he doesn't kill people anymore, just tosses them into his dungeons. We have to take Sir Erec alive, and since it's a hundred to one, we'll have him locked up before breakfast."

So Oringle still believed the prophecy Givret had invented! A plan began to form in Givret's mind. "If we live that long," he said mournfully. "If only I'd known it was Sir Erec we were against! I'd never have joined up."

"Eh?" the soldier asked.

[[graphic]]

"Haven't you heard about Sir Erec?" Givret asked.

"Heard what?"

Givret shook his head. "Never mind. I'm not supposed to say."

"Say what?" the soldier demanded.

Givret allowed the soldier to ask twice more, then leaned close and said, "Well, all right, but you have to promise not to tell a soul, you hear? This is in
strictest
confidence!"

"On my honor!" promised the soldier.

Givret lowered his voice."This Sir Erec is no ordinary knight. An enchanter protects him with black magic. No weapon can touch him, and he's got a magic sword that cuts through armor like warm butter. How are we supposed to take a fellow like that alive?"

The soldier's mouth dropped open. "I don't believe all that," he said at last.

"Ask anyone," Givret said. "Sir Erec's the one who fought Sir Yoder at that Beautiful Lady contest the count held last year. Maybe you were there?"

The soldier caught his breath and nodded. "
That
was Sir Erec?" Then his eyes widened. "And there
was
an enchanter there!"

"Mums the word, though," Givret cautioned. 'We don't want to discourage the others."

The soldier nodded, but a few moments later he stood up and sauntered away. Soon he was whispering to another soldier. Givret smiled and lay down for a few hours sleep.

By the time Count Oringle mustered his troops at dawn, his hundred knights had mysteriously become seventy-five. A quarter of his army had slipped off during the night, and from their expressions, the rest were wishing that they had thought of it. The count went into a rage, cursing the departed knights, but there was nothing he could do but tell the others to mount up and follow him. In the hubbub of saddling up and forming lines, five more knights disappeared.

Givret rode along. He planned to work his way to the back and, once the battle began, attack the army from the rear, but no matter how much he slowed down, none of the soldiers behind would pass. Finally, the one just to his rear said, "You're wasting your time. We
all
want to be at the back. Not that it'll matter, from what I hear."

"What
do
you hear?" Givret asked.

"They say this Sir Erec is like a demon, eight feet tall with tusks like a boars. He sometimes kills ten or fifteen knights before breakfast just to work up an appetite."

"Is
that
what they say?" Givret asked, impressed.

"I figure well all die," the knight muttered, "if were lucky. Better to die than to be turned into a beetle."

"Better than ... er ... I'm sorry, but you've lost me.

"That's what that black-robed enchanter of Erec's does. Turns people into dung beetles. I hope I die fighting."

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, being a dung beetle," Givret mused. "Once you got used to the smell, of course." He allowed this to sink in, then added, "All the same, I'd rather be a living knight. Maybe once the fighting starts, a fellow could slip off."

Then the army rode over a hill, and there was Erec, armed and armored and calmly facing his enemies alone.

"There he is!" shouted Count Oringle. "Now remember, take him alive! Charge!"

But the one who charged was Erec. The count's soldiers stared at him for a second, then scattered. In the confusion, Givret calmly drew his black cloak from his gear and pulled it on. Lifting his [[graphic]]arms, he called out, "I am Givret the Marvelous, Enchanter of Tara!" The handful of soldiers who remained stared at him, frozen with terror, and Givret added, "BOOGA-BOOGA-BOOGA!"

That did it. The last knights screamed and fled, leaving Count Oringle alone. The count looked to his right, then to his left, then gave his horse the spurs and disappeared in a cloud of dust. Only Givret and Erec were left of the Battle of a Hundred Knights.

"Givret?" Erec said. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just passing through, heard about this battle, and came along to lend you a hand."

"That was thoughtful of you," Erec said. "Who knows—if they hadn't been such cowards, I might have needed some help."

Then Enide stepped from behind a tree, where she had been hidden. She smiled at Givret, but her smile faded when Erec turned to look at her. "As for you, my lady' he said sternly, "this is now the third time you have disobeyed and spoken to me!"

"Did you warn him?" Givret asked Enide.

She nodded. "When you didn't come to our camp this morning, I decided I had to," she explained. "And I'm glad I did."

"There you go again!" said Erec. "If you loved me, you would be silent!"

"Erec," Givret said, "I like you, and you must be the bravest knight who ever lived, but sometimes you're also a prize looby. If Enide hadn't warned you, you'd be dead at least twice by now. Are you saying that if she really loved you she'd have let you die?"

"Never mind, Givret," Enide said miserably. "I'm tired of it, and I can't do it anymore. Maybe I do talk too much—well, all right, I know I do. I'll try to do better, but I won't try to be someone I'm not. Givret, would you take me home?"

"Home? You mean you're leaving?" asked Erec. He looked suddenly forlorn.

Givret looked for a moment at the two unhappy lovers, then said, "Look, I don't pretend to know much about romance, but I do know this, Erec. You're going to have to choose whether you want silence or Enide, because you can't have both at once."

Erec took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "Then I choose Enide."

"And I choose you, Erec," Enide said. "I love you."

Erec leapt from his horse and the two lovers flung themselves into each other's arms. Givret turned his mount. "As for me," he said, "I choose to leave you two alone. You'll have a lot to talk about."

All seemed well again between Erec and Enide, and so long as he was in the neighborhood, Givret decided to drop in on his friend Harold the Herald. As it turned out, this was a lucky thing, because heralds always get all the latest news first. On Givret's third day there, Harold said, "Say, do you remember that count I told you about once—Oringle?"

Givret looked up quickly. Out of respect for Erec and Enide's privacy, he hadn't told Harold about his recent dealings with the count. "I remember. What about him?"

"I just heard he's getting married next week. I feel sorry for the poor lady."

"I do, too," Givret said with feeling.

"Oh, well," Harold said. "Maybe this Lady Enide knows what she's getting into."

Givret left for Limors at once, asking everyone he met for news of Lady Enide or Sir Erec. The fourth person he met, a priest, confirmed Givret's worst fears.

"Ah, Sir Erec," the priest sighed. 'Dead!"

Givret swallowed, his heart heavy. "How did he die?" he asked.

"Bravely!" the priest said. "He was rescuing a knight from two giants who had taken him captive. He killed both of the giants, too!"

"Did you see it happen?" Erec asked.

"No," replied the priest. "A villager who was there told me. I went to see if I was needed to perform last rites, but by the time I got to Count Oringle's castle, the poor knight was already dead."

"Hold on there," interrupted Givret. "Did you say Count Oringle's castle?"

"Yes. They say the count took pity on poor Lady Enide and brought her and Sir Erec's body to his castle."

Givret blinked. "The count took
pity?
" he repeated. "Count
Oringle?
"

The priest shrugged. "There's a first time for everything, my son."

Givret didn't believe it. Putting on his black sorcerer's robe, he went to the count's castle and demanded entry, only to be told that no one was allowed in without the count's approval. Givret turned away, thinking furiously He had to find out what was up. And if, as he suspected, Lady Enide was the counts prisoner, he had to rescue her.