Chapter Twenty-Two

T he road led further into the forest. The trees were woven together by thick brambles. Overhead a leafy canopy shut out all but a few faint rays of sunlight.

We are deep in it now, Erec thought.

Enide had never answered his question. Instead, her face shuttered as tightly closed as a triple portcullis. But what could she have said? He already knew she was ashamed of him. He'd meant to redeem himself with a grand quest. Back in King Arthur's company, she would be aware of how miserably he'd failed.

And now, she rode Prudy as stiffly as if she bore a thousand cuts and bruises. Her mouth was drawn, as though determined not to cry. How different she'd appeared only a few short hours ago. She had been laughing giddily, practically seated upon Gawain's knee, hungrily partaking of King Arthur's bounty. She belonged there. There, where admirers fell at her feet. Where she had been in the company of knights who could keep her safe. He should have slipped into his armor and left without alerting anyone. How much better for everyone that would have been.

Erec bit his lip hard.

No more than a year ago, he had been unencumbered by a wife. He had been the best—one of the best—of King Arthur's knights. Every quest he had undertaken had been a rousing success. He had thought marriage, too, would be easy.

A chasm opened in Erec's chest. Sweat broke across his brow. No! The life he had once led meant nothing. A good husband—that was all he desired to be. A good one. Not the uxorious lay about he had been.

"Enide," he murmured.

She shook her head and put a finger to the corner of her eye as if to dash away a tear. He moved closer to reach out his hand. For a moment she regarded it with confusion, and then she slipped her hand into his.

"My love," he said, squeezing gently, "I could not stay with the king's company because I feared they would ask me about my quest as soon as they saw I was able to speak."

"But isn't that what you wanted?"

"What I wanted?" he asked aghast, dropping her hand. "Why would I?"

She turned to stare at him as though he was the one who had lost his mind.

"So, they would all know of your deeds. Then word would get back to Estre-Gales."

He regarded her with horror. Of course, word would get back. His reputation would be shattered completely.

" Those deeds? The ones you were embarrassed to speak of?"

Her mouth fell open and she pulled back on her reins. "Erec! Are you mad? You defeated five armed robbers single-handedly. A count chased us with his army, yet you faced him down and made him repent of his ways. You defeated King Guivret—"

"He's not even three feet tall!"

"You've fought worthier men?"

"Lancelot," he said without hesitation. Then he allowed, "Gawain."

"And?"

"I don't know, Enide, I've fought so many men."

"But no one else whose name comes to mind? So do you think King Guivret boasted falsely that no other man had ever defeated him?"

"That is not—" Erec did not mean to disparage Guivret's valor. But he was doing so. "No," he admitted. "Guivret was a worthy opponent. I should give him his due."

Enide nodded, blinking a little as if unsure what to say next.

"So why didn't you tell Arthur's court?" he asked. "Surely they asked."

"Guinevere certainly did not," she said, scowling as if he just said something ridiculous. "We weren't thinking about your deeds, but whether you would live through the night!"

"And I interrupted before you could tell Gawain?"

"I wish I had. Then we could go home." She glanced up at him hopefully. "Couldn't we? Or we could go back to the hunting camp. I'll proudly sing of our adventures."

"Enide," he laughed softly. "We can go home." He had the good opinion of the only person who mattered.

A relieved smile bloomed on her face. Erec whistled to his mount. The forest no longer appeared as dark and forbidding. To the left, the brambles thinned. To the right, the trees opened to show a small grassy space lying before a hill populated with pines. The next westerly fork would start the journey toward Estre-Gales.

A sudden loud wail made him jump, a heartbroken female cry. He looked at Enide even though the noise had clearly come from afar. She paled.

The cry came again. It was most definitely a lady. One in bitter distress. For a moment, Erec was torn. If there were danger, he would not lead Enide into it, but neither should he leave her alone.

The shriek faded into a persistent sobbing, coming from the woods beyond the hill. Too many years of knightly indoctrination decided him.

"Enide—"

"You must," she said bravely.

He searched the roadside. "Dismount and wait there." He pointed to a tall elm. "If I am not back by dusk, return to King Arthur."

"Be careful," she begged.

He didn't answer. But at least he refrained from scolding her for saying so foolish a thing.

*

Finding the lady was easy. Erec simply followed the sound of her sobs. He half-expected to see a wild beast attacking her, but the reality was even more alarming. Despair had caused her to tear her own clothing, cheeks, and hair.

"Lady, what causes you such dismay?"

"Good sir," she answered, her voice hoarse. "My love has been seized by wicked giants who mean to kill him. If you can help, I beg you to do so."

Erec spied deep gouges in the soft earth and broken brambles alongside, indicating the knight had struggled.

"I will find him. If he is alive, I will restore him to you."

He set off at a gallop, pain pulling at his side as his mount's feet pounded the ground. As Arthur had warned, Nimreale's potion was temporary. Still, he followed the ragged trail, ducking beneath low branches while brambles scratched his legs.

A clearing opened ahead. The lady had not exaggerated. Two giants roared with scornful laughter as they harassed a man who could no longer be dignified with the title of knight. The lady's lover had been stripped naked and set backward upon a nag. His hands and feet were bound like a common thief's. The giants beat him with clubs and whips, leaving him striped with his own blood.

"Milords," Erec called to the ogres. "It is an insult to use a knight so shamefully."

"Go away," one giant growled.

They were so alike they might have been brothers, although, to Erec, one ogre always looked like another. Their height came from the length of their torsos. They had short, thick legs. Their arms were rounded with muscle and their shoulders so broad that their massive square heads seemed to sink into the flesh.

The other said, "This is no business of yours."

"Huh," the first grunted. "If you don't like what we're doing, try to stop us."

He didn't like it at all. "Since you have challenged me, I have no choice."

The second ogre laughed. "You cannot match strength with us any more than a lamb could fight two wolves."

"We'll see," Erec said.

He drew his sword. The giants simultaneously raised their iron-tipped clubs. Erec rode fast for the closer villain and feinted at the ogre's knees before lifting his sword to drive it into his eye. As the giant crumpled to the earth, Erec wheeled about to confront the roaring anger of the other.

Seeing the club descend, Erec raised his shield to take the full force of the blow. The impulse reverberated down Erec's side. His still-healing injury throbbed with such intensity, that he nearly fell from his horse. The evil giant pulled back his club, making ready to batter him again. Erec seized his chance, slashing his sword at the joint between the giant's neck and shoulder. He struck so hard that he cleaved his opponent in two down to his navel. The monster fell dead.

As Erec paused, breathing heavily, flinching toward the side of his wound, he heard the knight weeping behind him. Swiftly, Erec turned to cut the man's bonds, then helped him find his clothes and armor.

"Sire," the knight said, "henceforth you are my lord. I am Sir Cadoc, your willing vassal. You saved my life. Tell me, please, who you are so that I may follow you always."

Erec had not bargained on this. "I came to your aid at the request of your lady. Nothing would please me more than to return you to her. Then I must go on my way."

Although, there was something Cadoc could do.

"If you wish to do me honor, find my lord, King Arthur. He is hunting not five or six leagues from here. Tell him what happened and say you have been sent as a gift by Sir Erec."

It would set Arthur's mind at ease to know Erec had not died in the woods. Rather he was killing giants. Erec could not help but feel a tiny bit smug.

Erec helped Cadoc mount and rode with him back to the place where he had left the weeping maiden.

"Lady," he called, "here is your knight."

For a moment, he had to look away as they fell into each other's arms. Cadoc did not appear ashamed. His lady did not appear to love him anytheless. Erec was the deliverer, and yet, he might not have existed for all the lady looked upon him. Not that he wanted the lady's attention. It was only that it made him think. Admiration and love. They were two different things.

And what of his own lady? Did he want her admiration? Or her love?

The joyous couple remembered him at last.

"Milord," the lady said, "we are in your debt forever."

"Your joy is payment enough. But I have tarried too long." He felt a panicky need to see Enide, left alone by the roadside for any man to find and admire. "God keep you."

He urged his steed back into the thicket and raced for the road. Every sinew of his body ached. His head began to swim. His shoulder throbbed, bruised from the ogre's blow to his shield.

He reached the hilltop and careened down, his horse weaving between the trees in a dizzying pattern. Erec felt the wound at his side tear open. Blood began to pour. The trees spun. Was that the elm where Enide should be waiting? Was it?

His faint hit with worse force than the ogre's club. Erec fell from his horse and crashed to the ground.