In those days it was the custom for a new knight to be sent out at once on a quest for adventures, so Givret was not at all surprised the next morning to be summoned to the kings presence.
"Maybe I'll be sent to fight a recreant knight," he mused. That was what people called the cowardly knights who bullied the weak. "Or maybe to slay a dragon."
"Sir Givret!" said King Arthur firmly when Givret arrived in the throne room. "I have chosen your first quest. I wish you to go to Scotland!"
"I beg your pardon, sire?" replied Givret.
"You are to seek out Sir Erec, prince of East Wales, your fellow Knight of the Round Table, help him complete his task, and bring him home safely."
"Help Sir Erec?" exclaimed Givret. "But—forgive me, my liege—Sir Erec is an idiot." King Arthur raised one eyebrow. "Honestly, sire! I mean, the fellow set out in hunting clothes to chase down a knight in armor, to make him apologize! Erec has goose down for brains!"
King Arthur finally spoke. "If that is so, then he needs your help more than ever."
"Look here," said Givret. "Haven't you got a dragon in need of slaying? Any recreant knights lurking about?"
[[graphic]]
"I have given you your quest," the king said.
"Two dragons?" Givret asked desperately but King Arthur said nothing, and an hour later Givret was armored and on the Great North Road to Scotland.
The ride north was not very fun. The problem was Givret's size. Every time he passed through a town, people would laugh and call out things like, "Hey boy! Does your father know you've pinched his armor?" and "I didn't know they knighted dwarfs!" Some knights might have had the laughing townspeople whipped—knights could do that sort of thing back then—but as a Knight of the Round Table Givret had promised to protect the weak, even the ones he didn't like, so he ignored the taunts and tried to avoid towns.
Givret did take action once, though. While skirting a village, he came upon a gang of boys throwing stones at an old man in a black cloak. Leaping from his horse, Givret took his riding whip to the seats of the boys' pants. A few yelps later, the boys were gone.
"Thank you, kind sir," wheezed the old man.
"You're welcome," replied Givret. "Why were those boys abusing you?"
"Oh, it's this cursed black cloak," the old man sighed. "I never should have bought it. It's soft and warm, but whenever people see a fellow in a black robe, they think he must be a sorcerer. They [[graphic]]either drive me away or run. Terrible for business, I can tell you."
"Business? What business?"
The old man smiled broadly. "I am Gaston the Peddler, bringing to England the latest fashions from Paris, France!"
"Are you indeed?" murmured Givret politely.
"Take this, for instance!" Gaston said, pulling a small dish from his cart. "It's all the rage, I assure you! It's called a finger bowl!"
"Very pretty. Um ... what does it do?"
"You fill it with water and then dip your fingers in it before eating!"
"Do you?" Givret said. 'Why?"
"To wash them off, of course!"
"Wash before eating?" Givret asked, puzzled. "That makes no sense. I can see washing off all the grease and sauce after you've eaten, but why would you—?"
"Ah, but you won't have grease and sauce on your ringers after eating!" Gaston said eagerly "Because of this other new invention! It's called ... a fork! You cut your meat into pieces with a knife, then pick up the bits with this!"
"Why?"
"So you don't get food on your fingers!"
Givret shook his head sadly "Quite mad, you know You want me to wash my hands before eating, then never touch my food anyway? No, thank you. But there is one thing I would like to buy."
'Yes?" said the peddler eagerly "What is it?"
Your black cloak."
Gaston agreed, and a few moments later Givret was pulling the cloak on over his armor. It covered it completely.
"Excellent!" said Givret. "If I were you, friend, I'd go into the clothing business and give up this rot about finger bowls and forks. You'll never make a living selling such nonsense."
"Ah, just wait," Gaston said. "The day will come when little boys all across England will wash their hands before meals and eat with forks."
Givret laughed. "Don't be silly. Boys will never buy such foolishness."
"No," the peddler said, smiling, "but their mothers will."
The next day Givret found Sir Erec. Rounding a bend in the Great North Road, he nearly ran right into the other knight, who was heading south.
"Erec!" Givret exclaimed.
"Why, Givret! How nice to see you!" Erec said, reining in his horse.
"I say, Erec, have you already caught up with that Sir Yoder fellow?" Givret asked hopefully Erec shook his head, and Givret sighed. "Then where are you going?" he asked.
"To Scotland, of course," Erec said. "This is the Great North Road, isn't it?"
"Well, yes," Givret replied. "But you're going south on it."
Erec blinked. "Really? ... I mean to say, well, I did get rather turned around in that last forest but ... are you sure?" Givret nodded, and Erec said thoughtfully, "Then that explains it! The church in that last village looked just like one I'd passed earlier, but I decided it couldn't be the same, because it was on the other side of the road."
Givret stared at Erec for a moment, then said, "Right. Well, anyway that way is definitely north. Shall we ride together?"
Erec agreed, and they set off, riding mostly in silence. Erec had little to say, and Givret was glad of it. Instead, he spent his time asking everyone they met if they had seen Sir Yoder. He had no luck, though, until they came upon a young herald. When asked about Sir Yoder, this herald replied, "An I could help thee I would most willingly, 0 fair and noble sirs, but I wit not of such a knight, nor have I heard of anyone y-clept 'Sir Yoder.' I crave thy pardon, your worships." (This meant, "Wish I could help, but I've never heard of him. Sorry")
"No, no, don't mention it," Givret said. "But, say, I have another question."
"Ask whatsoever thou wilt, and be it in my power, I shall aid thee to the utmost!" ("Sure. Ask away")
"I've been wondering this for ages: Do you heralds always talk like that? I mean, when you're at home with your family, do you spout off all that thee and thou and y-clept rot?"
The herald grinned and lowered his voice. "No, but don't tell anyone. It's part of the mystique of being a herald, using all those gold-plated words."
Givret chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me. Well, if you ever deliver a message to Camelot, come look us up. I'm Sir Givret and this is Sir Erec. What's your name?"
The herald flushed slightly, then said, "Harold."
Givret's mouth dropped open. "Harold the Herald?"
Harold nodded glumly "My fathers idea. He's a herald, too, and he thought it was cute."
Tm so sorry," Givret said sympathetically. "And when you have a son—?"
"Freddy," Harold said promptly. "I'll call him Freddy."
Givret nodded, then turned to Erec, who had been sitting in silence. 'Well, Erec, we'd better go. We still have to find Sir Yoder and the most beautiful lady in the world."
"What did you say?" asked Harold suddenly "About the most beautiful lady?"
"Oh, this Yoder chap we're looking for has a lady with him. I don't know her name, but Yoder calls her 'the most beautiful lady in the world.'"
"Hmm," Harold murmured. "You might go to Limors and ask the count there, Count Oringle, if he's seen them."
"Why?" Givret asked.
"I've just come from Limors, where I was proclaiming a contest for the count, a test to choose the most beautiful lady in the land."
Remembering the quarrel that had nearly broken out at Camelot over the same question, Givret said, "Sounds daft. Why would the count want to hold such a contest?"
Harold shrugged. "I just proclaim; I don't ask questions. Maybe some fortuneteller told him to do it. Count Oringle's obsessed with spirits and such. He's always asking magicians and soothsayers for signs. I think he's a bit mad, but I'm careful not to say so in Limors."
"Why is that?"
Harold looked serious. "It's not a good idea to offend Count Oringle. He's a bad one. They say he's killed twelve men. But what I was thinking was that if this Yoder fellows so proud of his lady he might enter her in the counts contest."
Givret thanked Harold, and he and Erec set off for Limors.