Chapter 7

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Gawain's steed flew forth from the castle, sparks kicked up from the cobblestones as he rode to his fate. The people mourned the loss of this knight as they watched him leave. If he was to take the blow, how could he possibly survive? Lamentations at his inevitable fall followed him from the castle town, and he knew they were right. But to run from this fate was to dishonor not only himself, but his kingdom and king as well.

Not one to dally over trivial things like "roads" and "common sense", he pushed his way through thick forests and rough undergrowths, and it wasn't long before the sun had set. He made his bedding on the earth, his noble birth not preparing him for such things. Cold and alone, he awoke in the morning, and immediately returned to the saddle. For days he continued like this, resting only when he could no longer ride, for lack of light. Through countryside and city he rode, on and on, asking any he met if they knew of the knight of the green chapel, yet none had.

He fought off wolves, wild men, and warriors. Battling bears, boars, and beasts. Defeating dragons and dread knights. But still, with no clue of the green chapel.

His armor damaged and body weakened by battle and weather, he continued riding till Christmas Eve, praying to find somewhere to stay on this night. Praying for somewhere to see mass in the morning. Praying for somewhere to spend Christmas morn. Finally, he found a castle. A beautiful, glorious castle. He rode weakly to the front gates, and humbly requested lodgings. He sent word to the lord of the castle, and word returned. He was welcomed into the castle by a group of residents, and their lord.

"You are welcome here, sir knight, for as long as you like. All that I have, you may treat as yours. I can only hope you find the lodgings acceptable." The lord of the castle was a tall, older knight. Strong and well built, he welcomed Gawain and the two shared friendship that night. At dinner, cheer was shared with the brave knight and the people of the castle. Finally, one thought to ask him where he came from. When it was revealed he was sir Gawain, everyone was astonished. Many tales of Gawain of Camelot had spread through the land, and the lord of the castle laughed heartily with cheer to find that he had given lodging to one so brave.

The night passed on with cheer and laughter, and Gawain and a lady of the castle, her beauty rivaling any he had ever seen, each caught the other looking at them time and again.

The morning came, and Gawain prepared to leave. The lord of the castle begged him not to go, asking what sort of errand would force him from their presence so soon.

"I have a duty to be somewhere, and little time left to get there. With no idea where it is, I must hurry to find it."

"And where are you going, oh brave knight?" asked the lord.

"To the green chapel, to find the green knight." The lord of the castle laughed heartily.

"Stay with us a few days at least...I can show you were the chapel is. It's not two miles from this castle, after all!"

"You have my gratitude, good sir. I am in your debt."

"Then stay with us, and the debt shall be paid in full." Both laughed happily, and drank deep of wine. It wasn't long before he found that the lovely lady he had been so taken with was the lord of the castle's own wife. He spent time in their company, and came to cherish the friendship of them both.

He awoke a few days later to find her standing over him.

"You sleep too heavily...if I had been here to slay you, you would have fallen and never known it. As it is, you're barely awake, and I could easily capture you, binding you to the bed." She laughed as she joked with him. They smiled and talked as good friends into mid morning, and she spoke as if she loved him, but knowing of her marriage, he pushed past these conversational topics, feeling uncomfortable. Her husband rode with his men, enjoying the sport of the hunt.

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