Sir Gawain and the Green Knight Read online

  Gawain gaped aghast at the Green Knight, understanding at that moment that somehow this Green Knight and the lord of the castle must be one and the same. Gawain flushed to the roots of his hair, knowing his deceit and cowardice were now exposed. The Green Knight spoke kindly, though. “Yes, Gawain, my friend, I’m afraid I am both the men you think I am. How that can be I shall explain later. It was I who wanted to play our little game. It was I who sent my wife to your room to tempt you, to test your honor and chivalry to the limit — and she did, did she not? In everything except the silken belt, you were as true and honorable as any knight that ever lived. Only the belt caught you out, for you hid it from me and did not hand it over as you should have done. You broke your word. For that one failure, I nicked your neck and drew blood when I struck for the third time.”

  Gawain hung his head in shame now, unable to look the Green Knight in the eye. “Don’t judge yourself too harshly, my friend,” the Green Knight went on. “Three times you passed the temptation test and did not succumb to my wife’s charms, and that took some doing. You hid the secret of the green silken belt only to save your own life. It is no great shame to want to live, my friend.”

  But Gawain tore off the silken belt and threw it to the ground. “How can I ever call myself a knight again after this?” he cried. “You and I both know the truth. I behaved like a coward. That’s all there is to it. Say what you like, but I have failed myself and betrayed the most sacred vows of my knighthood.”

  Then the Green Knight laid his hand gently on Gawain’s shoulder to comfort him. “No man is perfect, dear friend,” he said. “But you are as near to it as I have ever met. You’ve paid your price — your neck’s still bleeding, isn’t it? And you’ve acknowledged your fault openly and honestly. Don’t be so hard on yourself. All we can do is learn from our mistakes, and that I know you’ll do.” He bent down then and picked up the silken belt.

  “Take it, Gawain,” he said. “May it remind you whenever you wear it of what has happened here and back at my castle — both the pleasures and the pain.” Refusing to take no for an answer, he tied the belt around Gawain’s waist and stood back when it was done. “It suits you,” he laughed. “And my wife was right, too. You are a handsome devil if ever I saw one. Now, Gawain, my dear friend, come back home with me and we can feast again together and sit before the fire as we did before and talk long into the night. And don’t worry, this time my wife will behave herself, I can guarantee it.”

  Tempted as he was by the warmth of the invitation, Gawain shook his head. “I cannot,” he said. “You know how much I should like to stay, but I must be on my way. If I come back with you I might never want to leave. No, I must go back to King Arthur, to Camelot, as quickly as I can. I’m sure they’ll be thinking the worst has happened to me.” He set his helmet on his head and made ready to leave, the Green Knight helping him into the saddle. “And thank you for the gift of this belt,” said Gawain as the two friends clasped hands for the last time. “It will always remind me of you and your lady, of all that has happened to me here, of the wonderful days I have spent with you this Christmastime. But it will also serve to remind me of my failures and my frailties. It will prevent me from ever coming to believe in my own myth. It will help me to know myself for what I am.”

  “Go, then,” said the Green Knight sorrowfully. “Go, and may God speed you home. We shall miss you and long for your return.”

  But settled now in his saddle, Gawain did not want to leave without a few answers. “There is still much that I’m puzzled about,” he said. “Who exactly are you? Which of you is you — if you know what I mean? Which is the real you? And who was the ancient craggy crone back at the castle who always watched me like a hawk? And tell me, how and why has all this happened to me?”

  “After all you’ve been through, you have a right to know everything,” replied the Green Knight. “I am known in these parts as Bertilak of the High Desert. And the old lady you spoke of is Morgana le Fey, who learned her powerful magic from Merlin and uses it often to test the virtue of the Knights of the Round Table and to corrupt them if she can. She is jealous of Arthur. She always has been. It was she who enchanted me, made me into the green giant you see before you and sent me to Camelot a year and a day ago to discover whether the Knights of the Round Table are really as brave and chivalrous as they claim to be. How else, unless I was enchanted, could I have ridden off headless and later grown my head again? How else could I be the green giant? And what’s more, Gawain — and this will surprise you even more perhaps — that old woman is your aunt, King Arthur’s own half-sister. I sometimes think there’s nothing she likes more than causing King Arthur all the mayhem and mischief she can, and she can cause plenty. Still, so far, my friend, we’ve both survived all her machinations and her enchantments, haven’t we? I will lose my greenness between here and my castle, and you will survive to go home. All has ended well.”

  There on that green barrow, the two knights parted and went their separate ways, the one riding to his castle nearby, the other setting out on the long journey back home to Camelot. It was long, too, and Gawain and Gringolet had a hard time of it. Hospitable houses were few and far between, so Gawain could never be sure of a warm bed and frequently found himself sleeping out in the open. The snow was often deep, and the paths precipitous and treacherous. But at least Gawain could be sure of the direction he was going, for the geese that had pointed his way to the lord’s castle before Christmas flew over him once again like an arrow, a singing arrowhead in the sky, this time showing him his way back to Camelot, back home. As for Gringolet, he stepped out strongly all the way, as any horse does when he knows he’s going home.

  Everyone came rushing out to meet them, including the High King himself and Guinevere, his Queen. Many tears were shed at Gawain’s happy and unexpected homecoming, for although everyone had hoped and prayed for it, there was no one who had ever really expected to see him again — not in this life, anyway.

  Sat by the fire in the great hall at Camelot, with everyone gathered around and a goblet of mulled wine warm in his hand, Gawain told his amazing story — they wouldn’t let him eat a mouthful until he had. And to his credit he left nothing out, even those shameful parts of the story a lesser man would have kept hidden forever. As proof of the truth of all he had told them, and of his shame, he bared his neck and showed them his scar. “And look, my lord King,” said Gawain, undoing the green belt from around his waist. “Here is the belt I spoke of. Here is my badge of shame.”

  Later that evening, after the King and Queen and all the Knights and their ladies had feasted together to celebrate Gawain’s safe return, King Arthur rose to his feet and toasted Gawain as a paragon of knightly virtues. He praised his nephew’s honesty and integrity, his chivalry and his courage. “He is a shining example for all of us to follow,” said the High King. “I have decided, therefore, in honor of Sir Gawain, and to remind us always of our knightly vows and virtues, that from now on, as a token of honor and purity, we should wear a green silken belt embroidered with gold, just like Gawain’s.”

  the greatest and worthiest knights in our land wear about them a silken belt much the same as was worn by the great Sir Gawain in his battle with the Green Knight. So his name lives on, my friends, as I hope his story will for many long years to come.