So the Archbishop and the hermit-knights break out their funeral wagon, last used to transport Guenever’s body. They load Launcelot onto it, and take the Knight of the Cart on one last cart-ride, across the land to his old home, … Continue reading →
Malory flashes forward seven years. Everything is the same, except Launcelot has become a priest. The hermits have become a regular little monastery of quiet introspection and contemplative meditation. One morning, at breakfast, Launcelot tells his fellow-hermits that he had … Continue reading →
Launcelot finds Guenever easily; she hasn’t been living as an incognito nun, just as a nun. He strides into her cloister, and when she sees him she faints! The nuns with Guenever help her back up. “Oh, thanks,” she says. … Continue reading →
“Sire!” calls Bedivere, as the magic barge’s gangplank retracts all by itself and Arthur, up on deck, lies down with his head in Morgan’s lap. “Sire! What will happen to me? I’m the last Knight of the Round Table!” “You’re … Continue reading →
We cut back to England and flash back to just after Arthur and Gawaine sail away with their sixty thousand troops. Mordred, Guenever, and all the other survivors of Book XX stand on the dock and watch them go. “Well, … Continue reading →
