Free The Quest of the Fair Unknown by Gerald Morris

took hold of one end of the great stone slab and pulled it away from the grave. The scratching stopped. Beaufils lowered his head into the dark hole he had opened and said, "Hello? Anyone home?"
    As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Beaufils saw that the grave was not very deep, and in the faint moonlight even made out a few bones, scattered about, as if they'd been disturbed. Small piles of brush dotted the open hole. Just below the headstone Beaufils made out a second hole, round and about a hand's breadth wide. From this hole, two bright eyes peered out. Beaufils grinned. "Hello, dear," he said. He lowered his hand into the grave and waited expectantly. After a minute a hedgehog appeared from the round opening and sniffed Beaufils's hand tentatively. "You've been scaring the people around here," Beaufils said sternly. "Let's go find you another place to build a den." He carefully picked up the spiny creature and drew it from the hole, but as he lifted it out of the grave, Galahad moaned, and the hedgehog jumped from his hand and scurried back into its tunnel. Beaufils sighed. He had known many small animals when he was growing up, and he knew he'd not coax this one out again. For the next twenty minutes, Beaufils worked to plug up the hedgehog's tunnel with large stones. Then he pushed the slab back into place and waited for Galahad to awake from his swoon.
    It was an hour before Galahad jerked into consciousness. "Did you see it?" he demanded.
    "Yes, yes, I saw it," Beaufils said soothingly.
    "What did it look like?" Galahad asked.
    "Um, it had sharp points sticking out all over it," Beaufils replied carefully.
    "Did it have a human shape?"
    "No, not at all."
    "Did it see me?" Galahad asked, his voice tense.
    "Yes."
    "What did it do?"
    "It ran away. It was afraid of you, you see."
    "Afraid of me!" Galahad repeated, wonder in his voice. "Then it is true! I truly am the purest of all knights! Even the spirits flee from me!"
    Beaufils considered his friend in silence for a minute. He could tell him the truth, of course, but once again Beaufils knew instinctively that the truth would not be welcome. Galahad was so sure of his own way of seeing things that he wasn't really very interested in seeing anything that didn't fit. Beaufils realized with surprise that as much as he liked Galahad and respected him for his desire to do right, he was growing weary of his friend. You had to pretend too much when you were with Galahad, and it was starting to get tiresome.

V. The Carl of Carlisle
    Since leaving Camelot, Beaufils and Galahad had been traveling in a general northerly direction, varying their course only when Galahad got word of a church he could visit. On their sixth day out, Galahad told Beaufils that they were nearing Scotland and would enter that land soon after they passed through the town of Carlisle. All places were new to Beaufils, of course, so he didn't care one way or the other, but Galahad liked to tell him where they were, and Beaufils didn't mind hearing it.
    On the outskirts of Carlisle, Beaufils had a new and wonderful experience—the delight of meeting an old friend. Crossing a field, they came upon Gawain, whom Beaufils greeted with pleasure. He was less excited to see that Gawain was accompanied by Bishop Baldwin from Camelot, but Galahad seemed more excited to encounter Bishop Baldwin, so it worked out very evenly.
    As they rode into town, Beaufils fell back beside Gawain and gestured at Galahad and Bishop Baldwin riding ahead of them. "Galahad seems very pleased with Bishop Baldwin, doesn't he? Normally he only gets this excited about meeting priests."
    Gawain glanced at him curiously. "Well, you know—or, rather, I suppose you don't—a bishop is a kind of priest."
    "Oh, that explains it," Beaufils said. "I didn't know. I thought 'Bishop' was just a part of his name."
    "No, it's a title," Gawain explained, "like king or duke or baron."
    "Does everyone have a title?" Beaufils asked.
    "No," Gawain