A small exclamation escaped Beatrice, and Axl, placing an arm around her, drew her closer. On his other side, Gawain made a grunting noise which seemed to signify his appreciation of Wistan’s manoeuvre. The old knight had placed a foot up on one of the raised roots of the oak, and was watching with keen interest, a hand on his knee.
The grey-haired soldier’s back was now turned to them: in this, of course, he had had little choice, for he had now to face Wistan. Axl was surprised to see that this soldier, so controlled and expert only a moment ago, had become quite disorientated. He was looking towards his horse — which had trotted some way away in panic — as though for reassurance, then raised his sword, the tip just above the level of his shoulder, gripping tightly with both hands. This posture, Axl knew, was premature, and would only exhaust the arm muscles. Wistan, in contrast, looked calm, almost nonchalant, just as he had done the previous night when they had first glimpsed him setting off out of the village. He came slowly towards the soldier, stopping a few steps before him, sword held low in just one hand.
“Sir Gawain,” the soldier said, a new note in his voice, “I hear you move at my back. Do you stand with me against this foe?”
“I stand here to protect this good couple, sir. Otherwise, this dispute is not my concern, as you so lately reported. This warrior may be your foe, but he isn’t yet mine.”
“This fellow’s a Saxon warrior, Sir Gawain, and here to do us mischief. Help me face him, for though I’m keen to do my duty, if this is the man we seek he’s a fearful fellow by all accounts.”
“What reason have I to take arms against a man simply for being a stranger? It’s you, sir, came into this tranquil place with your rude manners.”
There was silence for a while. Then the soldier said to Wistan: “Do you stay mute, sir? Or will you reveal yourself now we face one another!”
“I’m Wistan, sir, a warrior from the east visiting this country. It seems your Lord Brennus would have me hurt, though for what reason I know not since I travel in peace on an errand for my king. And it’s my belief you mean to harm that innocent boy, and seeing this I must now frustrate you.”
“Sir Gawain,” the soldier cried, “will you come to the aid of a fellow Briton, I ask you once again. If this is Wistan, it’s said more than fifty Norsemen have fallen by his hand alone.”
“If fifty fierce Vikings fell to him, what difference can one old and weary knight make to the outcome now, sir?”
“I beg you, do not jest, Sir Gawain. This is a wild fellow, and he’ll strike at any moment. I see it in his eye. He’s here to do us all mischief, I tell you.”
“Name the mischief I bring,” Wistan said, “travelling peacefully through your country, a single sword in my pack to defend against wild creatures and bandits. If you can name my crime, do so now, for I’d hear the charge before I strike you.”
“I’m ignorant of the nature of your mischief, sir, but have faith enough in Lord Brennus’s desire to be free of you.”
“No charge to name, then, yet you hurry here to slay me.”
“Sir Gawain, I beg you help me! Fierce as he is, the two of us with careful strategy might overcome him.”
“Sir, let me remind you, I’m a knight of Arthur, no foot soldier of your Lord Brennus. I don’t take up arms against strangers on rumour or for their foreign blood. And it seems to me you’re unable to give good cause for taking against him.”
“You force me to speak then, sir, though these are confidences to which a man of my humble rank has no right, even if Lord Brennus himself let me hear them. This man is come to this country on a mission to slay the dragon Querig. This is what brings him here!”
“Slay Querig?” Sir Gawain sounded genuinely dumbfounded. He strode forward from the tree and stared at Wistan as if seeing him for the first time. “Is this true, sir?”
“I’ve no wish to lie to a knight of Arthur, so let me declare it. Further to my duty reported earlier, I’ve been charged by my king to slay the she-dragon roams this country. But what objection could there be to such a task? A fierce dragon bringing danger to all alike. Tell me, soldier, why is it such a mission makes me your enemy?”
“Slay Querig?! You really mean to slay Querig?!” Sir Gawain was now shouting. “But sir, this is a mission entrusted to me! Do you not know this? A mission entrusted to me by Arthur himself!”
“A dispute for some other time, Sir Gawain. Let me first attend to this soldier who would make an enemy of me and my friends when we would go by in peace.”
“Sir Gawain, if you’ll not come to my aid, I fear this is my final hour! I implore you, sir, remember the affection Lord Brennus has for Arthur and his memory and take arms against this Saxon!”
“It is my duty to slay Querig, Master Wistan! Horace and I have laid careful plans to lure her out and we seek no assistance!”
“Lay down your sword, sir,” Wistan said to the soldier, “and I may spare you yet. Otherwise end your life on this ground.”
The soldier hesitated, but then said: “I see now I was foolish to suppose myself strong enough to take you alone, sir. I may be punished yet for my vanity. But I won’t now lay down my sword like a coward.”
“By what right,” Sir Gawain cried, “does your king order you to come from another country and usurp the duties given to a knight of Arthur?”
“Forgive me, Sir Gawain, but it’s many a year you’ve had to slay Querig, and small children have become grown men in the time. If I can do this country a service and rid it of this scourge, why be angry?”
“Why be angry, sir? You know not what you’re about! You think it an easy matter to slay Querig? She’s as wise as she’s fierce! You’ll only anger her with your foolishness, and this whole country will need suffer her wrath, where we’ve hardly heard a thing of her these past several years. It requires the most delicate handling, sir, or a calamity will befall the innocent right across this country! Why do you suppose Horace and I have so bided our time? One misstep will have grave consequences, sir!”
“Then help me, Sir Gawain,” the soldier shouted, now making no effort to hide his fear. “Let’s together put out this menace!”
Sir Gawain looked at the soldier with a puzzled air, as if he had forgotten for the moment who he was. Then he said in a calmer voice: “I’ll not aid you, sir. I’m no friend of your master, for I fear his dark motives. I fear too the harm you intend to these others here, who must be innocents in whatever intrigue enfolds us.”
“Sir Gawain, I hang here between life and death as a fly caught in a web. I make my last appeal to you, and though I don’t understand the full part of this matter, I beg you consider why he comes to our country if not to do us mischief!”
“He gives good account of his errand here, sir, and though he angers me with his careless plans, it’s hardly reason to join you in arms against him.”
“Fight now, soldier,” Wistan said, his tone almost conciliatory. “Fight and be done with it.”
“Will it do harm, Master Wistan,” Beatrice said suddenly, “to let this soldier surrender his sword and ride away? He spoke kindly to me before on the bridge and he’s perhaps not a bad man.”
“If I do as you ask, Mistress Beatrice, he’ll take news back of us and surely return before long with thirty or more soldiers. There’ll be little mercy shown then. And mark you, he means sinister harm to the boy.”