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The Wounded Land

Sir Meliagant turned pale with anger—and, Sarah thought, with fear—but he had no chance to reply. King Bagdemagus, upon hearing Jean's name, leaped to his feet with delight and rushed to embrace him, chattering like a magpie about how delighted he was to have such a distinguished guest and how sorry he was not to have recognized him at once, what with Lancelot's beard and new style of dress, and did Lancelot remember that time at the annual ball when they had both worn clothes of the same shade of crimson and had made everyone else jealous and so on.

Sir Meliagant watched his father fawn over Jean for a while, then spoke. "Very well, indeed, Sir Lancelot," he said, with only the fire in his eyes betraying his hatred. "We are delighted to have you with us. Shall we set our combat for one week from today?"

"Yes, yes!" exclaimed King Bagdemagus. "It will be just like the tournaments at Camelot! Do you think we should send invitations to other knights as well?"

"No, Father," Sir Meliagant replied. "A trial by combat is between two people only."

"Very well," the king said, sighing regretfully. "It sounds a shabby affair, though. I shall have to decorate the hall! Shall we have it in the Crimson Room, do you think?"

"Wherever you wish, Father. But I see that Sir Lancelot is weary still from his days of travel. He should go back to his room to rest."

"Oh, yes, quite," replied the king. "And I must go put on my shepherd's clothes!"

"Your what?" Sir Meliagant said, momentarily diverted.

"My shepherd's clothes, of course. It's all the crack in Camelot, you know. But I can see you don't. You've never been quite as au courant as I, have you?"

Sir Meliagant shrugged. "Put on whatever you want, Father, but by all means go back to your room now. I shall deal with matters here."

"Oh, Father!" Char is said suddenly. "Do you know what I've just discovered? The Lady Sarah here, Sir Lancelot's companion, is a lady-in-waiting! You know that I've been wanting to have my own lady-in-waiting! Do say I can have her? Please?" Sarah turned to stare at Charis, aghast at the simple-minded tone that Charis adopted whenever she spoke in Sir Meliagant's presence and offended at being spoken of as if she were a puppy Char is had found.

"But of course, my dear," King Bagdemagus said. "You're quite old enough now for a lady attendant. How delightful for you! Meliagant, will you send for the royal seamstress? I must have some new clothes made at once. And Sir Lancelot? I shall look forward to seeing you at dinner!"

Then they all separated. Jean was taken away by the guards, presumably back to his cell; King Bagdemagus returned to his own chambers; and Sarah and Charis went to Charis's rooms, where Charis immediately barred the door.

"How can you do that?" Sarah asked as soon as they were locked in the room.

"Do what?"

"Act so brainless! Talk in that silly little-girl voice! Aren't you embarrassed?"

Charis reddened. "Sometimes. You have to understand that I don't like it, but it's the only way I can get anything. My father does whatever Meliagant says, and Meliagant has no thought for a mere female. Acting as he expects me to act is my only tool. If I stood up to him, he'd just be angry, and I'd accomplish nothing."

"Have you ever tried?"

Charis scowled. "You've seen my brother! How do you think he'd respond to a rebellious female?"

Sarah nodded. "I see what you mean, of course. But I just ... it just seems so ... so shifty—to get what you want by pretending to be dumber than you are."

Charis colored again, but she replied only, "You should be glad I did. If I hadn't, you'd be on your way back to your cell, like Sir Lancelot."

Sarah couldn't argue with that. "I suppose we ought to set about getting him free and then rescuing the queen and Sir Kai. Your brother gave us a whole week to figure something out."

"Yes," Charis said. "I wonder why he did that. It's not like him at all to wait for anything. I wonder what he's up to."

"Whatever it is, let's not wait with him," Sarah said decisively. "How soon can we go set Je—Sir Lancelot free?"

Charis thought a moment. "I'll wander around the halls and see what I can learn. You stay here with the door barred. No point in reminding Meliagant that you're not in his prison. When I come back, I'll knock four times, two fast and two slow, all right?"

Sarah nodded, appreciatively comparing the decisive young lady who stood before her, weaving plans against her brother, to the timid, trembling girl who had opened her door the previous night. Maybe, she reflected, it wouldn't be so long before they found out what Sir Meliagant would do to a rebellious female. Jean had been right: here was one who would stand fast.

Sarah had plenty of time to reflect on Charis's transformation, because the princess was gone for hours. Sarah paced and sat, sat and paced, and worried. She worried about Jean—what if Sir Meliagant simply had him killed?—and about Charis, wandering the castle and perhaps being caught listening to what was not intended for her. Then, for good measure, she worried about Sir Kai and Queen Guinevere and about Ariel, who must still be anxiously awaiting them across the gorge. Sarah wondered how it had happened that she suddenly had so many people to worry about. It seemed to her that caring about other people's well-being was very fatiguing and a great nuisance, but she supposed it was too late to go back now.

At last there came a knock at the door—rap-rap, rap, rap—and Sarah threw aside the heavy wooden bar for Charis to come in. "About time," she said.

"Sorry," Charis replied, entering. "I brought food." She put down a sack and they barred the door again.

"What did you find out?" Sarah demanded.

"I couldn't get to Sir Lancelot," she said. "There are guards placed all up and down the hall where you were last night. I suppose that's a good sign, though. I thought Meliagant might just have him executed, but even Meliagant wouldn't be so afraid of him that he would guard his corpse."

"He was afraid of Jean ... of Sir Lancelot, wasn't he?"

Charis nodded with satisfaction. "When Sir Lancelot revealed his name, I thought my dear brother was going to swoon. I've never seen him turn that color before." Then her smile faded. "I couldn't get to the dungeons, either. There are now guards at the dungeon stairs. I waited to see when they changed guards, but so far they haven't."

"So what are we going to do?" Sarah asked.

But Charis had no ideas. Sarah wanted to retrieve the sword she had hidden in her cell, but Charis said that at least four of Jean's guards were stationed in view of that door. The two girls stayed in Charis's room all day, discussing the problem, and all they could think to do was to check that night to see if there were fewer guards after dark.

They couldn't avoid dinner, however. Charis joined her father and brother at the banquet table each night, and, since Sarah was now a lady-in-waiting, she had to be there as well. Sarah hesitated, but Charis assured her that Meliagant never paid any attention to mere females. At first, it seemed that Charis was right. They arrived at the banquet hall at the same moment as Sir Meliagant, but he hardly even glanced in their direction, staring past them at the astounding sight of his father in full, "courtly" shepherd's costume.

"What foolishness is this?" Sir Meliagant demanded.

"Is it not the most precious pastoral garb?" his father replied delightedly. "I don't know when I've had so much fun as I had this afternoon with Tuttle and my seamstress." Here the king nodded at an embarrassed-looking gentleman beside him, evidently his personal valet. "It was Turtle's idea to sew a silk lining inside the sackcloth, which I'm most grateful for. Horribly scratchy, that stuff is. Wonder how real shepherds endure it? At least ... real shepherds do wear sackcloth, don't they?"

"I haven't any idea," Sir Meliagant said curtly.

The king's brow cleared. "Well, I think it looks fine, don't you?" The king turned around so that everyone could see his new clothes. They were indeed ridiculous, an impossible combination of coarsely woven wool and fine silk, ragged tears and precious gems, cracked leather and luxurious ermine. He even carried a real shepherd's crook, and he could not have looked more foolish if he had been trying.

"Dashed nonsense!" Sir Meliagant snapped, and for once Sarah agreed with him.

The king looked pained, although not so pained as his wretched valet. "No, no," Bagdemagus said. "I assure you, it's what everyone is wearing at court. Lancelot said so! I say, where is Lancelot?"

"He's indisposed, and won't be here," Sir Meliagant said, turning away from the king and taking his place at the table. The rest joined him, and the meal began.

Through most of the meal, Sarah stood correctly behind Charis's chair, helping to serve her "lady" and hating it, but it seemed that acting meek and docile worked: Sir Meliagant hardly looked her way. King Bagdemagus continued prattling about his new clothes and twice managed to knock his own wine goblet over with his shepherd's staff. "Bless me," he announced jovially after the second time this happened. "I do wonder why shepherds carry these things anyway! They must be forever knocking over their crystal! And what do they do with them when they're on horseback or in carriages, I wonder?"

Sarah could only stare, and even the brittle-tongued Sir Meliagant seemed unable to reply adequately to such an inane statement. It didn't matter. The king was chattering as much to himself as to anyone else and did not require a response.

At last the meal was over, and when the king rose to leave, Charis, who had been waiting, followed at once. "Just a moment, dear sister," Sir Meliagant said.

Charis stopped, her smile frozen on her face. "Yes?"

"I'd like a word with you." Sir Meliagant's eyes were on the king's retreating form.

"Very well," Charis said brightly. "Sarah, you go back to my room and wait for me, all right?"

"But it is not all right," Sir Meliagant said smoothly. At that moment, the door closed behind King Bagdemagus, and Sir Meliagant's smile faded into a sneer. He jerked his head at the guards, who pointed their spears at Sarah. "It is with your new lady-in-waiting that I would like to speak." Reaching into his robe, Meliagant produced Sarah's crystal bottle. "My guards say that they took this from you. What is it?"

"It's ... it's nothing," Sarah said lamely.

"I am not, I believe, a fool," Sir Meliagant said. "Nothing but a magic cordial would be kept in such a bottle. But you are not, I'd swear, a sorceress. Come, girl! What is it, and how did you come by it!" He stepped forward menacingly.

"It's for my complexion," Sarah replied, remembering her talk with Adrian the Pardoner.

Sir Meliagant ignored her. "It is not a poison," he said thoughtfully. "I know because I gave some to my father's detestable little lap dog, and nothing happened. Pity. But I can see that you need to be persuaded." He nodded to one of his guards, who stood nearby. "Raven? Cut off her left hand, please."

Charis laughed brightly. "Oh, what a clever joke, dear brother! But you mustn't frighten my poor lady-in-waiting. She doesn't know your little pleasantries as I do! Why, she might think you were serious! And Sarah! You naughty puss! Do you really have a lotion for clearing the complexion? Why, how clever of you! You must let me try some!" Charis giggled.

Sarah kept her lips tightly closed and watched Sir Meliagant's face. Only by a fleeting expression of irritation did he show that he had even heard his sister's artless prattle. He jerked his head toward Sarah, and the guard he had spoken to drew his sword and approached her.

"Why, Meliagant! I declare! You're taking this joke right to the end, aren't you?" Charis's laughter was brittle and forced now, but she pressed on doggedly. "How I shall tease you about this later! But Sarah, I've just remembered that I left my scarf on the floor of my room. Run off and get it for me, won't you?"

Sarah saw from the corner of her eye that the guard with the sword had stepped quickly to one side, to get between her and the door, but Sarah kept her eyes on Sir Meliagant and didn't move. Sir Meliagant said calmly, "Actually, Raven, why don't you first see my beloved sister out of the room? Then bar the door and return to me."

"Yes, my prince," the guard said. He took a firm step toward Charis.

"If you take another step, Captain Raven," Charis said in a very different voice, "I shall be forced to tell my father about the two loyal guards whom you murdered while they were on guard duty. I shall also tell what you did to their wives afterward. He will have your head, you know. I will insist on it."

The captain froze, staring at Charis, and even Sir Meliagant seemed taken aback. "Well, well, dear sister. You appear to have been listening more than I was aware. I wonder what else you know." Charis was silent, and Sir Meliagant said, "Have I underestimated you?"

Sarah spoke. "All right, Sir Meliagant. I'll tell you what the vial contains." She paused, waiting until every eye was on her. "It isn't really mine, anyway. It belongs to Sir Lancelot. He thought you wouldn't search a woman."

Sir Meliagant smiled. "I thought as much. And where did he get it?"

Sarah chose a name at random. "From the Lady of the Lake."

Sir Meliagant's smile disappeared, and his eyes widened. "So. The Lady was right. All right, child. What does the cordial do?"

Sarah thought furiously. The name of the Lady of the Lake seemed to have struck a chord in Sir Meliagant. Now she had to think of something else he would believe but that he couldn't confirm by testing it on a lap dog. "The potion ... doubles your skill with a sword."

Sir Meliagant searched Sarah's eyes, then smiled. "You may even be telling the truth. We shall see. Raven, conduct them to their room."

***

The light had been gone for at least three hours before Sarah and Charis dared open their door and look out. At various times during the long evening, they had heard voices outside their door, and they halfway expected to find a guard posted there, but the hall was empty. Charis closed the door behind them, then led the way down the dark passages of Logres Castle.

They had decided not to bring candles with them—with more guards in the halls there was too much risk of a light or a shadow being seen—but Charis did not hesitate, even in the paralyzing fog of absolute blackness. "Here," she said. "This is where I hid the keys last night." Sarah heard a faint clink of iron on iron, then felt the tug of Charis's hand. "We'll check the dungeon first," she said. "It's nearest."

She led Sarah to a winding stairway, and they descended into even blacker darkness. Charis moved on the stairs as lightly as a sure-footed mountain creature. Sarah was not so agile, however, and by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs she had several new scrapes and bruises on her legs and elbows. "All right, you'll need to watch your step now" was Charis's only comment. "This stair comes out in a recess in the wall near the dungeons, and if there's a guard, we don't want him to hear you banging into things."

Sarah started to retort that she hadn't intended to bang into things, but at that moment Charis squeezed her hand tightly, and then Sarah heard it, too: voices. Both girls froze and flattened themselves against the stone wall.

"Is the guard gone yet?" hissed a woman's voice.

Sir Meliagant's unmistakable voice replied, but without its usual arrogance. "I sent him to watch the prisoners at the bottom of the stairs," he said. "He won't hear us."

"Good," replied the woman. "I am very nearly displeased with you, Meliagant. How could you let an outsider into this castle?"

"I'm very sorry, Lady," Sir Meliagant said. "But you did promise that no one would be able to cross the Sword Bridge."

"Silence!" Then, a moment later, "Nevertheless, I should be most curious to know how any man could have done so. But this is not just any man. How did Lancelot find out about the queen's capture?"

"A girl told him."

"A girl! A sorceress?" The woman's voice was tight and sharp.

"No, Lady! I'd swear it! She was some peasant girl who saw me attack Kai and overheard our conversation! Bad luck, but not sorcery!"

"I don't like it, though. Lancelot is the one man who should not be here."

"What should I do with him? Shall we wait for the trial by combat? I set the date for a week from now, because I wanted to talk to you first. I can kill him, you know."

"You?" There was scorn in the woman's voice. "Not in your wildest imaginings!"

Sir Meliagant hesitated, and when he spoke, Sarah could hear the anger throbbing behind his deferential tones. "Perhaps not normally, Lady, but this time I can. His right hand is wounded, and you know that won't heal while he is in the Wounded Land. Besides, I have an extra edge."

"Don't imagine that my magic will save you from his sword, Meliagant."

"Not your magic, Lady—his own magic."

"What are you talking about? Lancelot has no magic."

"Not of his own, perhaps, but he has magical friends. He had with him a magic cordial that is said to double the swordsmanship of anyone who drinks it."

"Nonsense. I've never heard of such a potion, and, even if it existed, where would Lancelot get such a cordial?"

"From the Lady of the Lake," Sir Meliagant replied promptly.

Now the woman was silent, and when she spoke her voice trembled slightly. "So. I warned you Nimue might take a hand, didn't I? She has always had an interest in Lancelot. And a potion that increases swordsmanship sounds like her. The wench has always been obsessed with swords."

"Shall I use the potion then, at the trial?"

"No, little man, you shall not. I know you would love to be the one who kills the great Sir Lancelot, but I prefer to do things my way. Leave him to me."

"Will you just kill him, then?"

"Don't be a fool. You know nothing of the magical world, but we do have rules. If I were to murder someone under your own roof, it would utterly destroy all the spells that I've cast here to protect you from outsiders. That's why we couldn't just execute the queen and Sir Kai. The Law of Hospitality is a horribly ill-conceived rule, which I shall change once I control everything, but for now we must at least appear to honor it. No, as I say, leave Lancelot to me."

"Yes, Lady."

"He will not appear at the trial," the woman said. "And by not appearing will forfeit the test. Guinevere will be proven guilty, by law, which will release us from the Law of Hospitality. Then you will kill them both."

"Yes, Lady."

"My time is coming, Meliagant. With Guinevere, Kai, and Lancelot gone, Arthur will be alone."

"Yes, Lady. Except—"

"Except what?" she snapped.

"What about Sir Gawain, Lady?"

"Ah, yes, my meddlesome son and his revolting squire. A pity that he isn't here for me to deal with as well. I find it so disappointing that my own son is on the side of my enemy. Has he no family loyalty?"

"What would you do with him if he were here?"

"Crush him, of course. Farewell, Meliagant. I shall be back soon. Be ready for me."

Then there was a rush of wind, then stillness, then the sound of Meliagant's footsteps retreating down the hall.

"An enchantress," Sarah said, sinking slowly and sitting on the steps. "An enchantress is behind it all. Just what the crone said."

"What crone?" Charis demanded.

"An old woman, an enchantress herself, that I met on my journey here. She asked me if I had heard anything about an enchantress involved in the queen's capture."

"Not just any enchantress, either," Charis added. "Didn't that woman say she was Sir Gawain's mother?"

"I wish I could tell Terence," Sarah said softly. "That's Sir Gawain's squire."

"We have to talk to other people first," Charis said, standing. "We must warn Sir Lancelot that that woman is going to do something to him."

Sarah rose hastily to her feet and took Charis's hand. "You're right. Lead the way."

But when they came to the prison hall, they knew at once they were too late. Nearly a dozen guards lay sprawled along the hallway, deep in charmed sleep, and at the end of the hall, Jean's door stood open. He was gone.

For two days and two nights the girls roamed the castle halls, but although they were able to retrieve Sarah's sword and hide it in Charis's room, they found no sign of Jean. On the third day, Char is obtained permission from her father (without even using her brainless-girl act) to go riding in the surrounding countryside with Sarah. Sir Meliagant overheard their plans but, to Sarah's surprise, made no objection. Indeed, he seemed almost amused. "Go ahead," he said, looking right at Sarah. "Ride wherever you want, if you think it will do any good."

If Sir Meliagant meant that they would find nothing, he was right. They rode to the gorge where the Sword Bridge had been, but there was nothing there, and Sarah saw no sign of Ariel on the other side. Then they rode into the forests around the castle, but every direction they took they came to a barrier they could not cross. Sometimes it was a deep chasm, but most of the time it was a rushing river. They couldn't have escaped even had they wanted to: Logres Castle was completely surrounded by water.

It was good to get away from the castle and from the fear that someone was listening behind every door, though. The girls talked freely as they rode. Charis told of her life at Logres, an increasingly confined life since her brother effectively usurped her father's power, leaving the king nothing to do but play with his clothes and redecorate the rooms.

"But your father ... I'm sorry, Charis, but does your father want to do anything except play with clothes and decorate rooms?"

Charis was silent for a moment, then sighed. "Perhaps not. Perhaps he's not the cleverest man, let alone the cleverest king, but in the old days everyone loved him, so he can't have been too horrible a ruler. Better than Meliagant, anyway."

Sarah couldn't argue with that. For her part, she told Charis about her childhood with her mother and Mordecai, and then about their murders. She realized with a pang that she had not thought about her grief for the past few days, but she wept as she told the tale, and her heart yearned for her mother with a renewed ache. Then she told Charis about meeting Sir Kai and the queen and about the ensuing quest. When she was done, Charis was silent for a long time. At last she said quietly, "Now I am humbled. All I had to complain of was being confined and ignored."

"Our stories aren't that different," Sarah said. "We've both had what we love best taken away by men. I lost my mother. You lost yourself."

"But you set out to make things right."

"No, I set out to get revenge."

"But I did nothing at all. I wish I were brave like—" Charis's hands flew to her mouth, and she stifled a squawk of alarm. "What is that thing?"

They were riding alongside the river, only about two miles from the castle itself, and had just ridden out of a thicket into a small clearing, where the most horrible beast Sarah had ever seen or imagined lay dead in the grass. It was as large as Mordecai's wagon and was covered with black scales from the tip of its tail to the top of its seven long, snaky, headless necks. Lying in the grass before them was one of the severed heads. The girls' horses shied away.

Sarah patted her horse's trembling neck. "I don't know what it is. I'm glad I'm seeing it this way instead of alive, though. Who do you think killed it?"

"Whoever did it was hurt," Charis said. She pointed at the head. Its fierce teeth were clamped together in the rigor of death, but Sarah could see caught in those teeth a twisted and bloody length of chain mail.

"Gawain," Sarah said softly.

The girls dismounted and began to hunt in the bushes near the little clearing. Sarah found one footprint, half hidden under a bush, but other than that they saw nothing. After almost an hour, they walked back toward their horses. Sarah bit her lower lip anxiously. "He must be alive, or we would have found his body, but where could he have crawled and hidden so well?"

Charis said something that sounded like "Urlp."

Sarah glanced anxiously at her friend. Charis was staring at their horses, where a pale man in leather clothes leaned weakly against her mount. It was Terence.

"Lady Sarah," Terence said. His voice was faint and his face wan.

"Squire Terence," Sarah said, instinctively stepping forward and holding out her hand.

Terence took her hand in his and almost at once began to look stronger. "Thank you," Terence said. His face grew less ashen, and his lips curved. "I see that we were wrong, after all. We should have brought you with us from the crossroads."

"I don't think so," Sarah replied, "although I'll admit I was angry enough when I woke up that morning. But I came on with Jean, and that was probably better."

"Jean?"

"The knight we passed in the dung cart that day," Sarah explained. "This is Charis. She's King Bagdemagus's daughter, and she's helping us."

"Pleased to meet you, my lady. Then you've found them? Sir Meliagant was behind the abduction?"

"No, that was ... someone else. But Sir Meliagant is involved, and things are in a terrible fix. How is Gawain?"

"Bad," Terence said. "He has a wound in his side from that creature over there, and although it's been three days, it just won't seem to—"

"Heal?" Sarah interjected. Terence nodded. "It won't, you know. Sir Kai and Jean are wounded, too, and they won't heal, either. It's an enchantment."

Terence shook his head briskly, as if shaking off cobwebs. "I thought you didn't believe in enchantments," he commented.

"Please don't be stupid," Sarah said. "We don't have time. Can Gawain fight?"

Charis suddenly clapped her hands. "Of course! Sir Gawain can take Sir Lancelot's place and fight Meliagant at the trial!"

"Sir Lancelot?" Terence demanded. Then something lit his eyes. "Now I see! Jean Le Forestier! Was he the knight in the cart?"

"Yes, yes," Sarah said to Terence. She nodded at Charis. "That is what I was thinking. Again, Terence, can Gawain fight?"

"He shouldn't," Terence said. "He's lost a lot of blood. But that's his own decision. Come on, I'll take you to him."

A minute later Terence ushered them into a shelter made of woven branches and leaves. Sarah realized that in her search for Gawain she had walked not ten feet away from it and hadn't seen a thing. Inside the shelter, Gawain leaned against a tree. He looked weak, but his eyes lit up when he saw Sarah. "My lady!" he said, reaching out to her. "Can you forgive me for leaving you in your sleep? It was ill done and officious of me, and I have regretted it almost since I left."

Sarah nodded, smiling, and something lightened in her heart. "It has worked out for the best, I think," she said, sitting beside the wounded knight. "Is your wound bad?"

Gawain smiled. "I've been hurt worse."

"Really, milord?" Terence asked, one eyebrow lifted. "When was that?"

Gawain shrugged. "All right. I've been hurt nearly this bad before." He glanced at Terence, then sighed. "Yes, it's bad."

Sarah slumped dejectedly. "Then we're in trouble."

"Tell us the story, why don't you?" Terence said, sitting beside her. "You don't mind if I hold your hand while you talk, do you? I don't know why, but I feel stronger when I'm touching you."

"Of course you may. Take Charis's hand on your other side, too. That will help as well." She looked consideringly at Terence. "How much of your blood is faery blood, anyway?"

Terence looked startled, but he said, "Half, my lady. On my father's side."

"That explains it, then," Sarah said. "You're faery enough that the enchantment affects you, but you're human enough that you could at least come here." At Gawain's and Terence's bewildered expressions, Sarah explained, "You see, there's an enchantment on the whole land of Logres, something that keeps out the Seelie Court. Ariel wasn't able to enter it at all. I'm not sure why, but it helps if the faery is touching a human. There's another enchantment, or maybe another part of the same one, that keeps wounds from healing. Meliagant called this 'The Wounded Land.' Sir Kai and Jean—I mean, Sir Lancelot—have unhealed wounds as well."

"Sir Lancelot?" Gawain repeated, dazedly.

"And you say this enchantment is over the whole land of Logres?" Terence asked. Sarah nodded, and Terence shook his head slowly. "What sort of enchanter is strong enough to cast a spell over a whole land?"

"Not enchanter," Sarah said. "Enchantress."

Terence's grip on Sarah's hand tightened. "Do you know the name of this enchantress?"

Sarah shook her head, then took a deep breath. "No, but you do. It's Gawain's mother."

The knight and the squire looked soberly at each other. "You were right," Gawain said at last. "You never really believed she was dead."

"Every generation, a different plot," Terence said. "So this time she's using Sir Meliagant?"

"Yes," Sarah said. "And unless we can find Sir Lancelot, Meliagant will execute Sir Kai and the queen."

Gawain said again, "Sir Lancelot?"

"He was the knight we passed in the dung cart," Sarah explained. "He and I came on together, crossing by the other bridge."

"I hope your bridge was easier than ours," Gawain remarked.

"I was about to say the same to you," Sarah replied.

Then she told their story, as concisely as she could, omitting only the part about her killing of the knight of the fires. As she concluded, she explained about the trial by combat that was to take place in four days and about Jean's disappearance. When she was done, Gawain closed his eyes tiredly. Even the effort of staying awake through Sarah's tale seemed to have been too much for him. Terence caught Sarah's eyes and shook his head slowly.

"He's too weak, isn't he?" Sarah asked.

"Yes," Terence replied.

"Don't be ridiculous," Gawain said, without opening his eyes. "I'll rest here for three days, then trot off and fight Meliagant if you haven't found Lancelot. I'll be fine."

"As you wish, milord," Terence said. "But if you are to fight, you should rest now."

"Yes, Mother," Gawain replied, but he slumped forward gratefully. Terence jerked his head toward the forest outside, and the three rose, still holding hands, and went out.

"He can't fight like that," Sarah said bluntly. "And he won't be able to in three days, either."

"No," Terence said. "I shall have to fight instead."

"With me holding your hand all the while to help you stay on your feet?" Sarah asked scornfully. "You were about to faint when we saw you by our horses."

"I know," Terence said with a sigh.

"Our only hope is to find Jean," Sarah said. "Have you seen anyone?"

"No," Terence said. "We've seen no once since we killed the beast."

"Then you did kill that creature," Charis said, in an awestruck voice.

"Yes, though I still hardly believe it myself," Terence said. "It nearly had us. After we left you, Sarah, we came to the densest forest I've ever seen. Even I couldn't slip through it, and after an hour of trying to cut a way for our horses, we left them behind and went on foot. For three days we hacked and slashed. My own sword is ruined. If we hadn't had Gawain's sword Galatine, we'd never have gotten through at all."

"Gawain has a special sword?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, given him by the Lady of the Lake."

"Made by Trebuchet?"

Terence nodded, a slow smile lighting his face. "You seem to know a great deal more now than you did when I last rode with you, Sarah. Yes, made by Trebuchet—a faery sword like yours."

"What happened when you got through the forest?" Charis asked.

"We came to the Underwater Bridge that Ariel told us about. It was easy enough to identify, just a bridge built in a great stone arch, with the top a few inches below the surface of the water. The river wasn't even very fast there. It looked simple. Of course it wasn't."

"That monster?"

"Yes. As soon as we started across, it came out of the river and attacked." Terence shook his head. "Gawain sent me back to the shore so I wouldn't get in his way, and he drew his sword and slashed right at the closest of the heads."

Charis shuddered. "And cut it off?"

"No, he missed. The sword didn't touch a thing. He kept on striking out and hitting nothing, and all the time he was being bumped to the side. The creature was trying to knock him off the bridge, you see, but Gawain wedged one of his feet into a crack between stones, and although he was bashed back and forth, he didn't go over. Finally, the creature must have gotten impatient, and he took a bite. That was how we figured it out. You see, I was watching Gawain all the time, and when the monster bit him I saw the wound appear—but I didn't see the mouth that gave the wound."

"What?" Charis and Sarah said, in unison.

"It was magic, of course. The monster's real heads were invisible and the heads that you could see weren't really there. That was why Gawain kept hitting nothing. So I called out to him to strike where the beast's heads were not."

Sarah tried to imagine fighting a battle where you ignored the enemy you could see and struck where you could not. "That must have been rather hard."

"Gawain said it was the hardest battle he ever fought, because he wasn't just fighting a monster, he was fighting his own instincts. But it worked: his first blow cut off a head. Strangest thing I ever saw. He struck into the empty air to his left, and I watched one of the monster's heads, off to the right, fly off into the river." Terence shook his head slowly. "By the end, it was a question of who would last the longest. With every head Gawain cut off, the monster got slower, but Gawain was weakening, too. At last, Gawain closed his eyes and began just swinging wildly and blindly—I'll never tell him this, but he looked exactly like Sir Griflet in a tournament—and that was how he got the sixth head. After that, the monster tried to get away. It crawled out on the opposite bank. I came out on the bridge and helped Gawain free his foot. Then we finished off the beast."

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Terence said bitterly, "But it was all useless. We killed the monster at the crossing, but neither of us can live in this Wounded Land. We can't even go back: the Underwater Bridge crumbled as soon as we were across. Worst of all, we can't do what we came here for. In three days, if you don't find Lancelot, the queen and Sir Kai will die."