Parzival by Katherine Paterson Read Free Book Online

challenge the mysterious stranger.
    Arthur was angry both at the intrusion and the request. “If I let you go after I have expressly forbidden warfare at this place, everyone will want to joust and do battle. There’ll be no end to it.”
    But Guenever was fond of her young cousin. She wanted him to gain honor in the sight of the Round Table knights, so she coaxed and pleaded until, finally, the king gave the young knight leave to go.
    Segramors was delighted. He had himself armed as quickly as possible and followed Cunneware’s servant boy to the place just beyond the camp. There they spied poor Parzival still staring at the drops of blood upon the snow.
    Segramors called out to him. “I do not know who you are, sir, but you should know that you have no business here. Why, it is almost as though you cannot see just yonder in plain sight the tents of a king encamped there with his many knights. You are foolish to threaten him thus. Surrender yourself to me now and save your life.”
    Parzival, lost in the sickness of love, did not even hear this challenge. Segramors called out again, but still the visitor was silent. Indeed, he did not even turn his head to acknowledge Segramors’s threat.
    Segramors spurred his horse into a gallop. At this, the sorrel whirled to spare his own life. As the horse turned him about, Parzival lost sight of the blood drops and found himself being borne down upon by a charging knight. He weighed his lance and knocked the startled Segramors right over the rump of his horse and into the snow.
    The other knights, gathered at the edge of the clearing, could see Segramors dumped backward over his horse’s crupper. They waited, hardly breathing, for the strange knight to leap off his own horse and end the battle, but the visitor had already turned his back on Sir Segramors. What arrogance! The knights sent pages to pull the prone Segramors to his feet and lead him to his tent, where he could repair his wounded dignity. The knights themselves rushed to Arthur’s pavilion, all clamoring at once for leave to dispatch this haughty interloper.
    It was Sir Kay who prevailed. His reputation for gallantry had been in doubt ever since that unfortunate day when he had beaten Lady Cunneware. “My Lord,” he said, “if you do not give me leave to trounce this menace once and for all, I will resign from your service. There he waits—waving his lance in sight of the queen. He is disgracing us all.” So Arthur gave his steward permission to challenge the stranger, perhaps thinking that Sir Kay had much to redeem since there were now three knights at court with the sworn duty to see that Sir Kay minded his manners.
    Sir Kay took time to have his horse groomed and his armor polished. Then he sallied forth to the clearing with his pages in attendance and his banners streaming.
    “Sir,” he called out to Parzival, “you must know that you, have insulted the king of Britain and his lady. You will not get by so easily with me as you did with that green boy who challenged you earlier. Turn and surrender at once, else it will go very hard for you.”
    Parzival did not turn, nor did he answer a word to this bold challenge. This made Kay furious. He rode forward and whacked Parzival’s helmet with his lance so hard that it rang like a bell. The sorrel spun around at the sound. “Now,” cried Sir Kay, “I will beat you like a miller beats his donkey!” He trotted his horse to, the edge of the clearing, then spurred it into a full gallop.
    When the sorrel turned, Parzival’s trance once again was broken. He awoke just in time to see a second knight charging toward him at full tilt. Sir Kay thrust his lance straight through Parzival’s shield, but Parzival struck back, knocking Sir Kay right off his mount. The unlucky steward fell against a tree, breaking both an arm and a leg.
    As for Parzival, he turned once more to stare at the ruby drops upon the snow. He did not even notice the hole in his shield or that