The knight would have fought the prince of darkness himself for such a prize, so he set spurs to his horse without a moment’s hesitation, and rode away in the direction of the castle. He crossed the valley, swam over a deep moat, and reached the tree. He pulled a small branch, and tried to weave it into a wreath, but as he did so, he heard a voice call in angry tones:
“What are you doing there, rash youth? How dare you touch my magic tree! I know you well, you are Sir Gawain, a knight of the Round Table. Your father slew my father long ago, and I intend to have vengeance. Meet me, therefore, in eight days time before Klinschor’s magic castle. There shall twelve hundred of my warriors see me avenge my father’s death. You may bring as many men, or more, if you like.” So saying, the speaker turned his back upon the hero and re-entered his castle.
Gawain brought the wreath to his lady, who received it calmly. She did not waste her words in thanks, but pursued her way in silence; he accompanying her wherever she chose to go. After a time, they came in sight of two strong castles, one of which, the duchess said, was Logreis, her father’s ancestral residence, and the other was Klinschor’s magic castle, in which the great magician, Klinschor, kept the noble dames and damsels he had stolen, in close confinement and laden with heavy chains. She herself, she added, had only bought her freedom by giving the monster all the gold she had inherited from her father. Scarcely had she uttered these words, when a grim warrior appeared, and called to Gawain to defend himself. Orgueilleuse withdrew, reminding Gawain of her promise. A few minutes later, having overthrown his adversary, the knight got into the ferry-boat, that had just returned from setting the duchess on the other side of the water, and went across. That night he lodged with the ferryman, who told him all the gossip of the place, and particularly of the great doings of a valiant knight clad in red armour.
GAWAIN BREAKS THE SPELL IN KLINSCHOR’S CASTLE.
As darkness came on, Gawain went to the window, and looked out. He saw the lighted windows of the magician’s castle, at each of which a sad female face appeared. The women were a curious medley. Their ages seemed to range from early childhood to grey old age. Sir Gawain turned wrathfully from the sight, saying that he would slay the caitiff knight, and set the wretched ladies free; but the ferryman bade him beware what he did, for Klinschor was not only very strong, but was learned in the black art. Sir Gawain, however, was not to be dissuaded from the emprise.
He mounted his horse early next morning, and set out for the magic castle, the towers of which rose dark and mysterious-looking before him. He was admitted into the court by a gigantic porter, who opened the door for him without making any difficulty. The building seemed totally deserted. Not a household utensil was to be seen anywhere, nor any woman. He wandered from room to room lost in astonishment. At last he came to a room in which a comfortable couch was spread, and as he felt tired, he thought he would lie down and rest for a little; but, to his intense surprise, the bed retreated as he advanced, and he could not get in. Rendered impatient by this he boldly leapt upon the bed, and next instant was assailed by a perfect storm of arrows, lances, javelins, and heavy stones. From these he guarded himself as well as he could. Had he not been dressed in full armour, he would speedily have been slain, and even as it was he received many a wound.
The terrible hail of weapons ceased as suddenly as it had begun. A stillness as of death set in. The silence was at length broken by the heavy tramp of a peasant, who entered the room bearing a great club in his hand, and followed by a lion. The man was of enormous size, and his voice was deep and gruff.
“Quiet, Leo,” he said, “I am going to break that fellow’s skull before I throw you his carcase. What!” he continued in amazement, “still alive, and in full armour! Nay then, go at him yourself, good Leo.” So saying, he hastened away as fast as his legs would carry him.
The lion sprang upon the hero, and tried to tear him with its claws; but almost instantly fell backwards with a howl of mingled rage and pain, for Gawain had cut off one of its fore-paws. The hero now jumped out of bed, and attacked the lion with such hearty good will that he finally killed it; but the exhaustion caused by the protracted struggle was so great that he sank fainting on its carcase.