The Quest of the Fair Unknown (The Squire's Tales)

The Quest of the Fair Unknown (The Squire's Tales)

Gerald Morris

Language: English

Pages: 272

ISBN: 0547014848

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

On her deathbed, Beaufils’s mother leaves him with a quest and a clue: find your father, a knight of King Arthur’s court. So Beaufils leaves the isolated forest of his youth and quickly discovers that he has much to learn about the world beyond his experience. Beaufils’s innocence never fails to make his companions grin, but his fresh outlook on the world’s peculiarities turns out to be more of a gift than a curse as they encounter unexpected friends and foes.

With his constant stream of wise fools and foolish wise men, holy hermits and others of rather less holiness, plotting magicians and conniving Ladies, Gerald Morris infuses these medieval stories with a riotous humor all his own.

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in Lady Orgille's eyes, a flicker of satisfaction. Then she took another of her deep breaths and sighed. "I hardly know, Sir Knight. But if you would be willing to fight for me—oh, perhaps then I might be saved." "You have only to summon me, my lady. I am Sir Bors, of the Fellowship of the Round Table, and I will lay my life and my honor at your feet." "A knight of Camelot!" exclaimed Lady Orgille with a gasp. "Oh, I shall be saved after all!" Another deep breath. Then, with her right hand, she

Go cut some wood for me!" Sir Bors bowed his head obediently. "Yes, Father. And will that be all?" The hermit suddenly looked thoughtful. "Er, no, that's not all," he said slowly. "Dear me, no. You have been very bad, haven't you? I shall have to pray about this. Yes, I have it! Sir Bors, you must renounce your arms for the space of one, no, two years, and must assume the humiliation of being a servant! Right here, so that I—your Father Confessor—can keep an eye on your soul's health. You must

morning, Beaufils. Good morning, Lady Ellyn," the man replied. Now that Beaufils was looking more closely at their sudden companion, he was no longer sure that he was young. His face was smooth and unlined, and his easy smile had a youthful feel to it, but his eyes seemed far older than his face. "Sorry if I gave you a start," he said. "You seemed to be enjoying the walk, and I didn't want to disturb you." "How do you know our names?" Beaufils asked. "I've come especially to find you," the

but Beaufils decided he could ask about this "war" some other time, so he replied politely, "That must have been nice." Galahad blinked at this, then said, "Come, boy, and join our camp." Mordred started to speak, but Galahad said, "After all, Mordred, having attacked him without cause, we should make amends in whatever way we can. If you don't like it, you can go find another camp. I was here first anyway." He sat down at the fire and gestured for Beaufils to join him. "Mordred and I just met

pardon," he said. "I had heard that that most wicked of recreant knights was in these parts. He lives but to strike down young knights from ambush, and when I heard you approach, I hid." "You should not run from recreant knights!" Galahad said sternly. "But Sir Breunis Sans Pité is a demon with a sword! I confess that I feared for my life." "You need not fear now that I am with you," Galahad said. The knight looked Galahad over frankly. "But ... forgive me for pointing this out ... you don't

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