Sir Galahad and the Emerald Tavern
A Lost Lost Tale of Sir Galahad
This tale is part of an ongoing series of The Lost Lost Tales of Sir Galahad, not to be confused with The Lost Tales of Sir Galahad that were discovered in the bust of St. Plagiarus. Read the full history of the discovery of these tales here.
After several days Sir Galahad feared himself lost in the forest. Before he had found rivers and streams for he and his horse, Thunder, but his stores were empty, and their tongues were dry when the pair parted the pine trees before them and came upon a beautiful meadow of wildflowers. Roses, tulips, hydrangeas, and Edelweiss grew together amongst others Sir Galahad had never seen.
Across the meadow sat a small, gray stone structure, the noon sun shimmered off its straw, thatched roof. As they approached Sir Galahad smelled capon1, and noticed smoke puffing from the chimney. Seeing no watering trough outside, the knight sought the cook. As he dismounted and approached, the knight saw a sign above the door. It read:
THE EMERALD TAVERN followed by a crude drawing of the gemstone.
The knight threw open the wooden door. It clattered noisily as he stepped over the threshold, his metal boots clanged on the wood floor. They matched the rest of his armor of the finest silver which complemented the bejeweled helm that hid his face.
What Sir Galahad thought was an adolescent boy, under a dark cowl turned from the cooking fire.
“You there, boy! Where may I water my horse?” Sir Galahad said.
“Respectfully, good sir, I am no boy.” The stranger’s words were whispered between clenched teeth, and her exasperated expression remained hidden. Snoring came from the corner in the shadows.
“Speak up when a knight of King Arthur’s court is addressing you,” Sir Galahad said.
The stranger sighed, and with two hands she wordlessly removed her hood revealing green eyes, skin, and hair.
Words attempted to come to her lips, but she was too late.
The knight unsheathed his sword, holding it at her throat before she could speak.
"Foul demon! What treachery is this? Why should I leave you alive?"
The woman’s mouth moved wordlessly.
The knight thought “This demon's complexion carries the same hue as the emeralds on my helm,” when a high and nasally voice came from the shadows.
"She means no offense," the voice said. "I will show you to our well.
The knight pointed his sword toward the voice. He did not see the woman roll her eyes and blow a strand of hair from her forehead.
Sir Galahad's stomach turned as he saw what emerged. A fat, bald man drooled on himself as he approached, leaning on a walking stick. This imbecile looks like an egg that can walk, Sir Galahad thought to himself.
"Be you goblin, peasant?” Sir Galahad said, reconsidering his disbelief in such things.
"Nay, good sir. Just not blessed with as handsome a' countenance as you, my lord.”
He brushed past the demon as the knight sheathed his sword.
The imbecile used his hand to shade his squinting, beady, crossed eyes from the sun before hobbling toward Thunder. He took the horse's reins and led him to the back of the tavern.
Sir Galahad chuckled as he followed the man, remembering that neither he nor his green wife had seen his face uncovered.
At the well he removed his helm, placing it near his feet as he lifted the bucket to his lips and drank the unusually sweet water before holding it up to his horse.
As the knight lowered the bucket back into the well, the imbecile moved toward the knight with unnatural speed. Before the knight could move the man had seized his helm, running with it back to the tavern while juggling it with his walking stick.
"Gaseous goblin," Sir Galahad shouted, "Unhand my helm!"
The knight gave chase as the goblin evaded him, and Thunder galloped for the meadow. Not only did this creature have incredible speed, but now he lept skillfully, appearing on the edge of flight.
Sir Galahad watched as the creature bounced off everything in sight, sending his body through the thatched roof before returning to the floor, still juggling the helm and walking stick between his hands, feet, and head.
The knight swung his broadsword wildly at the creature. Half-drank tankards of ale spilled haphazardly as tables and chairs were cut to pieces. Capon fell into the cooking fire, and a rooster began to crow.
Seeing the knight's futility, the creature began to laugh.
"I will not abide this dishonor, Imbecile!" shouted Sir Galahad.
Slowly, the knight’s eyelids became heavy and his knees buckled, sending him toward the floor. As he fell he looked through the tavern’s doorway to see his steed asleep in the grass of the meadow.
"The well!” was the last phrase Sir Galahad could mutter before the creature, now seated on the edge of a hole he made in the thatched roof, reached a hand into the air, and the knight's mouth could no longer function.
Sir Galahad fell on his side and watched as the creature leaped to the floor. He took the metalwork from its perch atop his walking stick and pointed the shaft at the helm. A bright green light shot from his staff and consumed the helm, turning it into a pile of uncut emeralds. He then pointed his weapon at the knight and the same green light hit Sir Galahad, turning him on his back. Believing this was his final breath, the knight tried to contort his face into something brave. He was horrified when his sword and armor rose from his body to the air where they too burst into a shower of uncut emeralds. All the while the wizard continued to laugh maniacally. The emeralds took to the air and began to spin about the creature, first revealing a long pointed brown hat, and flowing robes. These were inhabited by an entirely different man with shaggy white hair and a long beard.
Sir Galahad could not break the gaze of the wizard’s bright green eyes.
“Now, you shall freeze like so many before you, and the grail's true power will remain hidden," the wizard said.
The emeralds remained in flight and spun about the woman, but her appearance did not change except for the tears that Sir Galahad could see streaming down her face. She became sleepy, falling and dropping her capon to the floor.
The gemstones began to collide, and with each collision, the uncut emeralds multiplied. The treasure soon filled the tavern, spilling out its window and door.
Sir Galahad’s last thought before falling asleep was that he would drown in a sea of jewels.
As he and the woman slept, the wizard moved about, guiding and directing the gemstones as if sculpting a masterpiece. Eventually, they formed a tower that swallowed the whole tavern, but the wizard arranged for his prisoners to sleep on top of his creation. Rapidly, they ascended on top of the growing piles of emeralds until they rested in the center of a basin made from them in the air. Beneath the basin extended a tower of jewels that reached where the tavern had stood.
His tower now crafted, the wizard stood before his creation in the wildflowers of the meadow and tapped the bottom of his staff upon the ground. Greenlight shot from the top of his staff and reached the sky, causing it to darken. The air suddenly chilled as gusts of wind blew in. Torrents of snow began to fall, forming a vicious blizzard so powerful that even the wizard could not see the sun setting. Within moments, the meadow could no longer be seen under drifts of white. The Wizard saw that snow was beginning to pile around Thunder, who lay motionless where he slept, yet he did nothing, preferring that the beast met a cruel fate. Instead, he walked to the front of the emerald tower, touched where the tavern door had once been with his staff, and watched as a shaft of light cut a door from the emeralds, which disappeared after he entered it. Inside the tower, the wizard climbed a great golden staircase, found his bed, and slept
Sir Galahad awoke with a cold smack followed by water running down his face. He sputtered and spat as he sat leaning against the wall of the Emerald basin. With both hands, he cleared snow from his eyes and shivered. His tunic and trousers did not protect him from the blizzard. As he got his bearings, he realized suddenly that the witch had thrown the snowball at him.
"What is the meaning of this? He shouted. Where am I? When did it start snowing? What have you done, Sorceress?"
"I am no sorceress, Galahad!" she exclaimed.
"Liar. I knew you could speak!” he shouted.
"The wizard's power weakens when he sleeps," the woman said.
"How convenient!"
“You speak now as well, " she said, stepping toward him, careful not to step through the snow to the floor of the emerald basin.
Galahad scrambled to his feet, stepping forcefully through the layers of snow, and yelped when a jagged emerald pierced his barefoot as the woman said, "Please let me explain.”
"Why should I listen to anything you have to say?” spat Sir Galahad.
"Because we serve the same King," replied the woman.
"You expect me to believe the great King Arthur consorted with a green woman?" The knight said, a derisive smile creeping across his face.
"No, sir, I serve the King who Arthur serves, the source of the grail's importance.”
"Do you mean to suggest that there are green-skinned saints in Christendom?" Sir Galahad said.
The wind picked up, and tears drained silently from the woman's eyes.
"I was not always green-skinned. The wizard's power has done this to me. I seek the grail, or at least I did," the woman said.
"Preposterous! Now, I've heard everything. A woman? Seek the grail? -- Never."
"Galahad, how many times today must you be deceived!" The woman shouted.
"I have only been deceived by the schemes concocted by your ally, the wizard, Sorceress.”
"My name is Selah!" shouted the woman, "and I sought the grail because Jesus of Nazareth is said to be of the line of King David. King Solomon was David’s heir, and it was Solomon, who counseled my ancestor, the Queen of Sheba2 herself, on many things, including a day when a man greater than himself would be born from his lineage and change this world forever. If the stories are true, Sir Galahad, that man was the King Jesus.”
Suddenly, a horse whinnied in the distance below.
"Thunder!" exclaimed the knight.
The horse below tried to run about the tower space in circles, struggling against the weight of the heavy snow. The drifts were already approaching his nose.
"I must find a way down from this tower," Galahad said through clenched teeth.
"Galahad, I can end this curse. If you can trust me," Selah said.
"What do you suggest?"
"We must share each other's blood."
"You truly are a witch!" the knight whispered under his breath.
"I know the terms by which I became the wizard's prisoner, but you do not have time to hear my story if you wish to save your companion's life. Do not make me responsible for such a needless tragedy."
Thunder's breathing slowed below, and his cries began to falter.
"Sir Galahad, please! Have faith," shouted Selah.
"I yield, Selah of Sheba. End this curse!"
“Help me clear a jagged stone of snow.”
They worked until one stone was visible. Selah pressed her palm upon the stone until blood ran from it. Then she gestured for Galahad to do the same. Reluctantly, he did so.
Once both of them had wounds, Selah clasped the knight's hand. As they held their hands to the moonlight, the knight looked beyond them to the west.
"Could that be..." Sir Galahad stuttered, straining to see something far away.
"Castle of Corbenic. I believe you will find the grail there, according to the stories told by my ancestors," Selah said.
Suddenly, A bloodcurdling scream issued from the bowels of the tower.
White light shot from the basin's center and revealed a door that led to a golden staircase.
Sir Galahad and Selah gingerly traversed the basin's surface and climbed down the spiraling steps, lamenting the wounds on their feet.
As they reached the bottom, they found the wizard's bedroom. Treasure maps adorned his walls, and his hat sat perched upon a golden headboard encrusted with emeralds. The wizard's robes now held only a pile of ash, and as Selah touched the wizard's hat, his clothes took to the air before colliding and disappearing. Then emeralds in the headboard began to dislodge from the gold and swirl about Sir Galahad and Selah. Each looked to the other fearing forced sleep. Instead, Sir Galahad hardly noticed his armor and sword being restored. He could not look away from Selah, whose skin was no longer green but bronze. Her hair and eyes were as black as coal, and around her neck sat an emerald pendant.
"I never thought I would see this again," Selah said, holding the jewelry between her thumb and forefinger, a glint of happiness in her eyes that Sir Galahad had never seen as she looked upon the knight.
Awestruck, Sir Galahad could only muster, "My lady…" before Selah's eyes grew in size.
"Thunder!" she shouted, scrambling toward the closed bedroom door with Sir Galahad a step behind. As Selah turned the door’s golden knob and crossed the threshold, stepping into the unknown, both she and the knight found themselves in the meadow. The ground around them showed no evidence of ever holding a tavern or a tower.
Thunder whinnied in delight, nuzzling Selah for the first time as she and Sir Galahad reached him.
After Sir Galahad greeted his horse, he removed his armor and placed it in the earth. His helm was the last piece removed, and free of it, Sir Galahad took his sword and laid it across each of his palms as he lifted his arms above his bowed head and dropped to one knee in gratitude before Selah.
"Sir Galahad, what are you doing?" Selah said, for the first time taking her eyes from the horse.
"My possessions are now yours. You have earned them.”
"But Sir Galahad, your quest... You must continue even if I only wish to return to my home."
"I shall, but this time as a simple Christian pilgrim who needs not sword nor armor because he travels by faith.”
"What use do I have for your things? How am I to carry them to my homeland?"
"I expect you to sell them at the nearest town for your journey East,” Sir Galahad said.
"Thunder will accompany you and assist in the carrying."
"Sir Galahad, I could never.."
"Selah, I insist as a matter of honor. It is but a small portion of what I owe you."
And with those parting words, the knight plunged his sword into the dirt and walked toward the setting sun.
A capon is a male chicken disqualified from fatherhood, and therefore, first among chickens to give his life for the nourishment of people.
See 1 Kings 10 and 2 Chronicles 9
Biblical Archaeologists disagree as to the precise location of Sheba, but modern-day Yemen and Ethiopia are likely candidates. Michael Wood, "The Queen Of Sheba", BBC History. Nebes, Norbert (2023). "Early Saba and Its Neighbors". In Radner, Karen; Moeller, Nadine; Potts, D. T. (eds.). The Oxford History of the Ancient Near East: The Age of Persia. Vol. 5. Oxford University Press. pp. 299–375.
The apocryphal Christian Arabic text [Kitāb al-Magall ("Book of the Rolls") https://sacred-texts.com/chr/aa/aa2.htm] suggests that Sheba was governed by a multi-generational matriarchy in sharp contrast to the patriarchal monarchies of neighboring nations of the time.
Aaron J. Nelson is a writer and disability advocate. He’s also a person with Cerebral Palsy who’s probably watching ESPN. Ask his Border Terrier, Scout, if you can't find him. He might be visiting Kansas City’s bookstores and restaurants.
Did you enjoy this tale? Find the original Lost Tales of Sir Galahad here!
 | A guest post by
|
Hurray that Sir Galahad saw the error of his ways and changed! I loved Selah! Nice job, Aaron!