Parzival by Katherine Paterson Page B

such a beautiful sight in his life. This surely was not the devil come into his wilderness. He threw himself face-down upon the ground, blocking the path of the great horses. “If you be God,” he cried, “be merciful to me!”
    The startled knights jerked their reins and stopped their horses just short of the boy’s body. “Fool!” they cried. “Do you want to be killed¿”
    But the boy was not offended. “Tell me,” he said. “Are you the one called God¿”
     
    The knights were amazed. Who was this ignorant boy who mistook three knights for God himself¿ “Do not bow yourself at our feet. We are not God or gods,” the knights said. “We are three men, knights who owe allegiance to Arthur of the Round Table. We are in pursuit of two evil knights who have betrayed the laws of chivalry and taken a young maid captive. In accord with our knightly duty, we are bound to rescue her.”
    “But what is a knight?” the boy asked. “I know only of one called God and one called the devil. I do not know of knights.”
    The knights could not believe that in all the world there lived so ignorant a boy. They told him of the great king and of his knights and their noble quests. Though the boy was a fool, there was something princely in his bearing.
    “You are a handsome lad,” one of them said at last. “God has clearly marked you with his favor. If I hadn’t met you in this wilderness, I would guess that you were a son of kings. Nevertheless, if you wish to be made a knight like us, take yourself to Arthur’s court. Now, be good and stand aside, for we must hasten to save this poor maid.”
    The boy watched the shining men until they disappeared through the trees, and then he ran to tell his mother all that he had seen and heard.
    His mother was furious. She sent her son away and called her plowmen and drovers to the cottage. “Why have you failed me?” she asked. “I told you when I came to this place that my son was never to hear the word knight, and you swore to me, every last man of you, on pain of death, that you would keep him in ignorance of the court of Arthur and of the life of chivalry.”
    The peasants hung their heads in sorrow to see their lady so distraught. For they knew that the boy’s mother was a queen and his father a king and a knight of Arthur’s court. King Gahmuret had died seeking adventure in battle, so Queen Herzoloyde had determined to save her infant son from his father’s fate. She had brought him into the wilderness of Soltane, where she thought she could keep him safe.
    But the damage was done. The boy was determined to go to Arthur’s court and become one of the shining men.
    What could the queen do? She wished above all things to keep her son from harm. If I dress him like a fool, she decided, and give him the oldest, most pitiful beast we own, people will laugh at him and he will come running home in shame.
    So the queen sewed the boy doublet and breeches made of sackcloth, which came just past his knees. To cover his feet and ankles, she made him buskins of rough, fresh cowhide and found for him a nag so weak with age that Queen Herzoloyde wondered if it could even bear her son’s weight as far as the end of the plowed field.
    The boy was delighted. What did he know of the world¿ As always, he trusted his mother to do what was best for him.
    “In addition to your clothing and mount, I wish to give you my advice to carry with you,” the queen said. And here, she relented a bit, for she did not want him to ride into real danger. She told him to beware crossing swift streams and rivers and to greet everyone he met with courtesy. If a gray-haired man wished to instruct him, he should take heed. She also tried to advise her son about women because clearly he was a handsome boy, just coming into manhood.
    “Women will wish to give you a kiss and a token—sometimes a ring or a brooch. Take these; they will cheer you. The love of a good woman is not to be despised. And one more