Chapter 4

Gologras's Castle

The idea of "vows" has already figured several times in this story, and since that idea is about to be important, it is worth pausing over it for a moment. A vow, of course, is a promise, but in King Arthur's time, promises meant rather more than they sometimes have since then. In the dangerous days before Arthur united England under one king, lawless scoundrels and cowardly bullies called "recreant knights" roamed the land. They did whatever they felt like doing and took whatever they wanted from anyone who was weaker than they were, for there was no one to stop them. People couldn't call the police, because there were no police, so they turned to one another for protection, making solemn vows to join together and help each other out whenever one was in need. People took these promises very seriously, because keeping their vows was a matter of life and death.

Later, when King Arthur rose to the throne, he established the Round Table and began sending his knights out to protect people from recreants and scoundrels. Life began to get better, but promises remained just as important. All the king's knights took solemn vows to help the helpless and protect the weak, and—as Spinagras pointed out—all England's nobles took vows to support the king and obey his laws and help him to bring peace. One could say that the king's peace—indeed, the kingdom itself—was built on people keeping their promises. This was why Sir Gawain intended to meet the Green Knight, even though it meant his death; he had made a vow, and in those days a person who didn't keep his word might as well be dead anyway.

(Things are different nowadays. Nations are not founded on keeping promises so much as on bleak and gloomy things called economies, which expect people to do whatever suits them rather than what they've said they would do. Of course, there are still people who believe that keeping their word is a life-and-death matter; they're just less common. One should always be on the lookout for such people; they make the best friends. In fact, they make the only friends. But back to the story.)

As Spinagras said, the forest where they had gotten lost was tricky. He led King Arthur's party through snowy woods and icy plains, over frozen lakes, and between towering crags where tons of snow hung dangerously over the path. On the first night, they made camp a hundred yards back from a small river, and rose with the sun the next morning to continue their journey.

The first to climb from his tent in the morning was Sir Reynold, who had a bump on his head just like the one on Sir Gandefere's, and who hadn't slept well on account of rolling over on the sore spot. "Odds bodikins!" gasped Sir Reynold. "Will you look at that?"

King Arthur and his knights crawled from their tents and stood beside Sir Reynold, staring down a long slope at what they had taken to be a river, but which the morning sun revealed to be a moat around a magnificent castle. "Spinagras?" called King Arthur.

"Yes, Your Highness?'

"What is this?"

"That's the castle of Sir Gologras, the wealthiest and most powerful noble in these parts."

"Gologras?" repeated the king. "I've never heard of him. How can that be, if he's such a powerful lord?"

"Gologras doesn't get out much," Spinagras said.

"But I'm the king! Every noble in the land swears a vow of loyalty to me!"

"Oh, right," Spinagras said. "That's why you've never met Sir Gologras. He doesn't do that."

"Doesn't do what?" the king demanded, his face growing stormy.

"Swear oaths of loyalty. He doesn't swear oaths at all, actually."

"And—why—not?" King Arthur asked through gritted teeth.

"I'm not sure. Personal preference, I imagine," the dwarf replied casually.

King Arthur looked for a moment as if he were about to explode. "LOYALTY TO THE KING IS NOT A MATTER OF PERSONAL PREFERENCE!" he roared. Many of the king's knights began to edge away. They /, had never seen King Arthur look quite so angry, or so purple. Spinagras only looked thoughtful. "Hmm," he said. "I wonder if anyone's explained that to Gologras."

King Arthur stared at the dwarf, speechless, for a moment, then turned on his heel and walked a good distance from the camp. His knights watched him pace and grumble and growl and take many long, deep breaths and then pace some more and, finally, plunge his head into a snowdrift for several seconds. When he returned to the others, his face was much less purple and quite a bit more damp, but he seemed to be in control of himself. "We'll make camp here," he announced. "After breakfast, we will hold council on what to do about this fellow Gologras."

At the council an hour later, Sir Gandefere advised immediate, drastic action: "Attack at once, I say!" Most of the other knights agreed.

King Arthur nodded. "I'll admit that was my first thought, too. We can't allow one noble to decide not to be part of the kingdom. If we do, then everyone who has a grievance or who gets tired of paying taxes will do the same. Our peace will fall apart, and we'll be right back to the bad old days of civil war and recreant knights everywhere."

"So what are we waiting for?" Sir Reynold demanded. "The fellow will swear loyalty soon enough with a sword at his neck."

"I wonder, though," mused the king, "if such an oath would really mean anything."

Sir Gawain cleared his throat. He was sitting beside Spinagras, and couldn't help remembering how promptly the dwarf had given them food when he was asked politely. "You could try talking to him first," Sir Gawain suggested. "Like Spinagras said, maybe no one's explained matters to Sir Gologras."

King Arthur looked at Gawain for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Yes, perhaps we should do that," he said.

"Well, I think it's a waste of time," grumbled Sir Gandefere, "but if that's what you want, I can go talk to him."

King Arthur looked at Sir Gawain and Sir Gawain at King Arthur. Then both looked at their feet.

"Er, that's very kind of you, Gandefere," King Arthur said, "but you've already done so much. Perhaps someone else could—"

"If you don't want Gandefere," interrupted Sir Reynold, "let me do it. I'll just go cut myself a cudgel to take along. No one's going to sneak up behind me this time."

"Ah, yes, a cudgel," King Arthur said. "Now, perhaps we should think about that."

"What's to think about?"

King Arthur hesitated, so Sir Gawain said, "Don't you think that taking a club along might give the wrong impression?"

"You think a spear would be better? A battle axe?"

"Gawain, you go," said King Arthur. "Speak to this Sir Gologras. Ask him why he won't swear loyalty to his king. Just ask for now, all right?"

"Yes, sire," said Sir Gawain.