what the hell is the matter with you?"
"Look I said I was sorry," Gawaine said, a little testily. "I was trying to kill you, not her. I didn't even see her. Listen, go to Camelot and tell King Arthur this whole story, he'll know what to do. This is above my pay grade."
"What? No, no, I'm not your errand-boy, I'm Sir Ablamar of the Marsh!" said the knight. "I don't care if you do kill me after all, I'm not carrying off your message to King Arthur!"
"If you don't I will, in fact, kill you," said Gawaine.
"Oh, really? Well, I'll do it, then," said Sir Ablamar. "But I don't like it."
So Ablamar mounted up with a couple of dead greyhounds and headed back to Camelot, and Gawaine went inside Ablamar's and his wife's castle, to lie down for a while. It'd been a whole big thing. Normally when Malory brings in a damsel or wife or maiden and doesn't give her a name I step up to the plate, but I don't have the heart to give Ablamar's wife a name. She literally ran in from offscreen and died, in such a transparent women-in-refrigerators moment that even the characters in the story seemed a little sickened by it.
In Ablamar's castle, Sir Gawaine lay down, but he couldn't get comfortable what with his armor and his sword and his extra sword and his dagger and his mace. He started to take all that stuff off, when Gaheris protested.
"Whoa! Gawaine, brother, seriously, you're going to remove your armor? We're in hostile territory here, man, you don't know who might show up at any moment!"
No sooner had he said this then, as so often happens in Malory, his concern was immediately demonstrated as well-founded. Four knights appeared from nowhere and started assailing at Gawaine, assailing at him hard.
"Jackass!" cried one.
"Foul knight!" cried another.
"You shouldn't even be a knight!" said the third. "Knights are guys who are merciful and don't go around murdering ladies!"
"You should be ashamed of yourself!" shouted the fourth. "If you have no mercy then we'll have no mercy for you, I tell you what! Get out here so we can beat on you!"
So Gawaine and Gaheris sprang out and there was a fight! Maybe it's because Gaheris was like twelve, maybe it's because they were outnumbered two to one, maybe it's because an archer from out of nowhere and started peppering Gawaine and Gaheris with arrows and Gawaine took one hard in the bicep of his swording arm, but before too long the four knights had the brothers down on their knees, about to strike the killing blows. Then suddenly a thing happened!
Four ladies ran onto the scene and somehow were not accidentally slain by the four knights on their backswings. No, these four ladies beseeched the four knights to be better men than Gawaine and Gaheris, and show mercy after all, and the knights agreed and took Gawaine and Gaheris prisoner.
"This sucks," said Gawaine, once he and Gaheris were ensconced in a cell.
"You think this sucks? You at least have armor and get to call yourself a knight," said Gaheris. "I've got it way worse than you. I didn't even kill anybody, remember, and here I'm paying the penalty for your crimes!"
"Don't be that way," whined Gawaine. "Anyway my arm really hurts, it's probably going to get gangrene and have to be chopped off."
"Whatever," said Gaheris.
"I'm related to King Arthur, you know? This shouldn't be happening to me!"
"Gah, dude, I am just as related to him as you are, and I didn't kill anyone and also I have to listen to you whine."
Early the next morning the lead lady of the foursome, Carmen let's say, went to the little gaol in the castle. "Listen," she said. "We heard you complaining all night. What the hell is the matter with you, you whiny little baby?"
Gawaine just moaned and whined some more.
"This is your own fault," pointed out Carmen. "You killed Mrs. Sir Ablamar, and she did nothing to you, nothing to deserve it. Mrs. Sir Ablamar was a fine woman! You'll suffer for what you've done, in this world and the next! Boo! Boo!"
Gaheris may or may not have joined in, Malory doesn't say.
"Anyway, that being said..." Carmen cleared her throat. "Are you truly related to King Arthur? Last night you kept bawling out how this shouldn't be happening to you because you're related to King Arthur."
"Yeah, so what, leave us alone."
"What's your name and how are you related to him?"
"Not telling," said Gawaine.
"Fine then, I'll just have one of my four knights -- all of whom are grumpy because your caterwauling kept them up all night, by the way -- pay you a visit with, say, this executioner's axe." Carmen hefted the weapon threateningly, then remembered that what with this being Malory, women aren't supposed to touch weapons, and she set it down.
"Whatever," said Gawaine. "You don't scare me. But entirely of my free will and own choosing I'll tell you what you want to know. I'm Sir Gawaine, the son of Lot of Orkney and Margawse, King Arthur's sister."
"So Arthur is your uncle, and a blood relation," mused Carmen.
"Yes," said Gawaine. "I just said that. I'm his favorite nephew."
"Hey! I'm right here!"
"He didn't knight you," Gawaine reminded Gaheris.
Carmen went back far a chat with the other three ladies and four knights. None of them wanted to be on Arthur's bad side, so they decided to just send Sir Gawaine back to Camelot and hope for the best. They put him back on a horse, with Gaheris, and with the body of Mrs. Sir Ablamar, so that Arthur would see what a terrible thing Gawaine did. Sort of like sending a kid home from school with an F on a test and a demand for a parental signature. Gawaine wanted the white hart, since that was his quest in the first place, and Carmen reluctantly handed that over, too.
CUT TO Camelot, where Merlin had cast zone of truth on Gawaine. Sir Gawaine spilled out his entire shameful, shameful story, with the lack of mercy and the killing of Mrs. Sir Ablamar, and all.
Arthur was furious. "First of all, no more killing ladies for two weeks. No, no, a month! Furthermore, I want a written apology to Mrs. Sir Ablamar!" Arthur had never had to discipline a knight before; he didn't really know how.
"I'll handle this. And by the way, I can't believe that when I finally get lines," said Guenever, "this is the context. I didn't expect a rose garden, but I did think I'd be in the loop at least." Guenever snapped her fingers and a cadre of her ladies-in-waiting appeared.
"Ladies!" she cried, pointing to Gawaine. "You see this miserable specimen of the knighthood? I'm releasing you from all your usual waiting duties. You have a new job. Follow this one around, for the rest of his life, and make sure he's being kind, gentle, virtuous, and above all courteous to ladies, at all times. His parole begins immediately, you are his parole officers, and will continue as such until you retire, in which case we'll name replacement parole officers, until such time as Gawaine dies, probably of shame. The only time he is ever permitted to act against any woman is if another woman tells him to, such that he as her champion fights another lady's champion. I, Guenever, have spoken. So mote it be!"
"Wow," said Arthur.
"And that is how you make a speech," said Guenever. "You're welcome."
Thus ends the Tale of Gawaine. Spoiler alert: for whatever reason, Guenever's sentence on Sir Gawaine was not carried out. It's a real shame, too, because man, did he ever get himself into scrapes where he could have really used a cadre of ladies-in-waiting to serve as his conscience.
In which Tor makes new friends
Right and so we turn back the clock to just as Sir Gawaine, Sir Tor, and King Pellinore set out. Tor was sent after the white hunting dog, the brachet.
Before he'd gone very far, he nearly ran over Peter, who was for whatever reason standing the road with a club. (Malory doesn't specify that this was the same guy with dwarfism as Peter from Book II, Chapter VII, but I choose to believe all the guys in Le Morte D'Arthur who have dwarfism are the same guy). Peter walloped Sir Tor's horse with the club as he rode by, knocking down the horse and Tor both.
"What the hell?" demanded Tor, as he got back up.
"Yeah, okay. The
re's a joust over there." Peter pointed to some pavilions set back from the road.
"I don't get it." Tor shot Peter an ugly look as he helped his horse back up and remounted.
"Sorry, I'll explain again. I hit you with a club because there's a joust over there." Seeing Tor's incomprehension, Peter elaborated further. "The knights at the joust are looking for opponents, and I told them I'd waylay any knights who came by and get them to joust."
"Hmm, I do love a good joust," said Tor. "But no, I'm on a quest, so, that's happening. I can't really take a joust break..."
"This isn't optional." Peter hefted a warhorn menacingly. "You want I should blow this?"
"Why, what happens if you blow your horn?"
Peter blew his horn, and a knight rode over from the pavilions, all dressed for jousting. Without preamble, he started trying to dehorse Tor. They jousted a bit, Tor won.
"Okay, fair enough, good joust," the knight said afterwards. "You should joust my partner, though."
"Your partner?" asked Tor, and maybe would have asked more except that the other knight, the first one's partner, had ridden up behind and engaged in a dishonorable backstab-joust! Or at least, he tried to; Tor was too quick for him. They jousted some, until Tor wounded the other knight, and he surrendered.
"Great," said Peter.
"Are we done here?" asked the knights. "You beat us, which is all we wanted."
"Yeah, no," said Tor. "You guys are basically bandits, I can't help but notice. I want you to head back to Camelot and surrender."
"Okay," said the knights. "When we get there who should we say sent us?"
"Don't say Sir Tor," said Tor. "No, no, say the knight who went hunting the knight who had the white hound. They'll know what that means."
The knights, whose names were Sir Felot of Langduk and Sir Petipase of Winchelsea, which are terrible knight names, two of the worst so far, shrugged.
Peter cleared his throat. "Listen, I don't want to work for these two any more, and I can't go back to Camelot after what happened without some kind of triumph, so, Tor, can I come with you?"
"Sure thing. No reason not to."
"Cool," said Peter. "I deduced from what you said to those to bozos that you're after the knight with the white hound? I know where he is; he came by here before. In retrospect I guess I should have clubbed him, but I didn't for some reason."
"No worries!" cried Tor. "This quest has been super easy so far. Lead on!"
So the two knights departed for Camelot and Tor and Peter rode off (Peter confiscated Felot's horse). Little side note: Malory never mentions Felot again, but Petipase would eventually join the Round Table.
Peter led Tor through the woods to a nice little spot next to a convent, with a couple of big tents set up. One tent had a white shield, and the other a red one. Peter signaled for them to dismount, which they did. Sir Tor put his finger to his lips, and Peter nodded. Tor handed Peter a glaive and silently indicated Peter should guard the horses.
Sir Tor sneaked up on the tents, all stealthy-like. He peeked into one with the white shield. Inside it appeared that three maidens had been lingerie/pillow-fighting, until they got all tuckered out and collapsed in a heap together on the bed. Tor considered taking some time to leer, but decided against it; he was on a quest, after all. Then Tor sneaked over to the tent with a red shield and peeked in that one. Within he saw a lady sleeping, curled up with the white hound.
That white hound wasn't asleep, and she started barking as soon as she saw Tor! He reacted quickly: Tor dashed in, grabbed the dog, then dashed back towards the horses, quick like a bunny. The lady and her maidens woke up in the commotion, and came running after him. Poor Peter wasn't about to swipe at them with a glaive since they were ladies, but they weren't combatants, either; Sir Tor and Peter mounted back up, and all the ladies could do was mount strenuous objections.
"Why are you taking my dog?" demanded the lady.
"I'm on a quest to find the dog, and also the knight who came with it. You haven't seen him, have you? He was a guy, in armor?"
"I wouldn't tell you if I had, jerk. I can't stop you from stealing my new dog, but I can tell you it won't go well for you."
"Whatever," said Tor. "This quest has a cakewalk up to this point. I got Peter here, a dwarf squire of my own. Also I peeked at four hot ladies while they slept! And now I have the dog! No comeuppance for me!"
He and Peter rode off.
"We should head back to Camelot and drop this dog off," said Tor. Maybe he said that because the dog was yapping and biting him, I dunno. "It's too late to make it back there tonight, though. Do you know of a place to stay, Peter?"
"I don't, sorry," said Peter. "Well, except for that hermitage." He pointed to a convenient hermitage that they happened to be riding past at that exact moment, purely by chance.
"I guess that counts," said Tor.
Peter and Tor barged into the hermitage and took advantage of the hermit's hospitality, meager though it is. In the morning they were most of the way back to Camelot when they heard shouting behind them.
"You! Hey, you! Come back here! You stole my girlfriend's dog!"
Tor and Peter stopped and wheeled around and, sure enough, there was the knight they were looking for. His name, Malory tells us, was Sir Abellus.
"I don't remember him being so tall, so heavily-armored, or so well-armed," said Tor.
"That looks like a glaive kind of problem," said Peter, hefting the glaive Tor gave him. "Here, take your glaive back and I'll watch the horses while you handle it."
What with one thing and another, Tor and Abellus jousted. It took quite a while; eventually they were both pretty badly beaten, though not quite at die-from-your-wounds levels like Balin and Balan. Tor eventually got the upper hand, and asked for Abellus's surrender during a thirty-second timeout.
"No," panted Abellus. "You stole my girlfriend's dog, I've got to get it back or else die in the attempt."
"Guy, it's just a dog," said Tor. "I don't want to have to kill you over a dog. I've never killed anybody."
"You don't have to kill me," pointed out Abellus.
"I kinda do," said Tor. "My quest is to bring you and this dog back to Camelot. Preferably both alive, but if I have to kill you, that's life."
He might have said more, but he was interrupted by shouting. "Tor! Tor!" A woman on a horse came riding up.
"Oh, damn," muttered Abellus. "Janice."
"What?" asked Tor, still poised with his sword, trying to get Abellus to surrender.
"Sir Tor!" The woman, Janice, came to a stop right in the middle of the jousting arena. "Sir Tor!"
"What? What is it? Also, how do you know my name?"
Janice did not answer that one. "I beseech you! I beg a favor! For love of King Arthur, I beg you!"
"And I say again, what? What is it?"
"Oh, thank you. This scum," she said, pointing at Abellus, "murdered my brother and stole my virtue, and I demand his head!"
"His head? Really?" Tor was chagrined. "I don't want to kill anybody. Can't you settle your dispute peacefully?"
"No!" cried Janice. "He slew my brother, right in front of me. My brother was a better knight, and this scum ambushed and betrayed him, after they went on multiple strange adventures together! When my brother lay there, crippled, I begged for his life. And this scum had the temerity to demand oral sex favors from me!" Janice shot Abellus a look. "Which I very reluctantly did! And then after he'd had his fun he decapitated my poor brother anyway!"
"Oh my God." Tor was mortified. "Is this true?" he demanded of Abellus.
"No! Not a word." Abellus resented Tor for even asking him that. "Well, technically all the facts are as she lays them out, but..."
"I demand vengeance!" cried the lady. "If you do not grant it to me I shall be forced to go to Camelot and disclaim you in front of Arthur and his knights. I don't want to, but if you won't kill this murderous rapist I don't think I have a choice."
"Well, he's clearly monst
rous, but I don't want to just kill him," began Tor. Just then Abellus decided to make a break for it! Tor's sword was in his hand already, and... basically by reflex SHOOMPT Abellus's head flew one way as his body slumped another.
"See? That right there, that's what I wanted to prevent," said Tor.
Malory's phrase for it, by the way, is "and I kneeled half an hour afore him in the mire for to save my brother's life," which I suppose might be taken to mean she pleaded with him on her knees, but in context I don't think I'm overly reaching to interpret as I do.
Janice and Tor and Peter ended up returning to Janice's house, where her husband offered them dinner. Janice's husband was a pleasant older gentleman who had no knowledge of Janice's sordid story and absolutely no one told him about it. In the morning Peter and Tor headed back to Camelot, but not before Janice told him that he would always be welcome in her neck of the woods, and she thanked him again for killing Abellus.
Tor made it back to Camelot, and everyone was pleased to see him. They congratulated him on seizing the dog and killing the knight whose dog it was. He was given a new horse and a new suit of armor, Arthur and Guenever were charmed by the tale of his adventure, and Merlin announced that Tor was a good egg who would do many great things, which prompted Arthur to promote Tor from knight to earl.
So I'm guessing Gawaine felt pretty bad about it in comparison.
Thus ends the tale of Tor! Next, the tale of Pellinore!
In which Pellinore is a dick
The third tale in our triptych is the Tale of Pellinore. Again, we roll back to the moment when Sir Gawaine, Sir Tor, and Pellinore set out from Arthur and Guenever's wedding reception; this time our camera remains focused on Pellinore, that dick.
That dick mounted up and rodes after the mysterious lady and the mysterious knight who abducted her. Out in the woods, not too far from the reception, he stumbled across a couple in trouble: a knight, all bloody and unconscious, and a damosel, waving and shouting and trying to flag down passing motorists. Pellinore slowed down and stopped.
"Pellinore! King Pellinore! For Christ's sake, help me out here!" cried the damosel. Apparently she and Pellinore knew one another?
"No," said Pellinore. "Questing. Back later." He rode away before the conversation could continue.
"Why that lousy horse-stealing Griflet-jousting son of a..." the damosel shook her fist at his back. "God," she prayed, "let Pellinore be in need just as I have been in need just now and him ignoring me like a big ol' jackass."
Then, just for good measure, the knight died of his wounds and the damosel took his sword and chopped her own head off. "That'll show Pellinore" may or may not have been her last words.
If I could give one piece of advice to anyone going to Arthurian times, it would be, don't be a damosel.
Pellinore, that dick, rodes on, ignorant of the damosel's suicide.
In the next valley over he met a cheery serf. "Ho, knight!"
"Ho yourself," said Pellinore. "I'm looking for a man and a woman, you seen them?"
"Oh, you bet!" The serf was happy to be of service;