After this unsettling encounter, Axl and Beatrice fall in with Wistan, a Saxon warrior who has travelled east on some secret quest, and Sir Gawain, a knight of the recently dead King Arthur's Round Table, who has, according to popular belief, been charged with killing Querig, the dragon. Their several fates, it seems, are mingled, and it becomes apparent that Querig is the source of the national amnesia lying over the land.
As they travel toward the dragon's lair, fragments of memory begin to return to Axl and Beatrice. These are deeply unsettling. Axl begins to suspect that he and Sir Gawain were once comrades-in-arms in the bitter war between the Saxons and the Britons - an episode in the recent past that the dragon's spell has conveniently suppressed.
And whereas he and Beatrice are at first quite certain they would pass the boatman's test if ever they were put to it - and there is a sense of inevitability that they will - this confidence erodes as memories of their personal past surface.
The setting and the queer rules by which the characters in The Buried Giant are obliged to play give it an epic, fairy tale feel; yet there is realism amid the magic, too - the moral complexity, and the emotional truth of Axl and Beatrice's relationship, which makes the open ending so intense and excruciating. Sir Gawain remarks upon how shallow-buried beneath England's green and pleasant sward are the skeletons of those who died in the atrocities of the recent wars: and as Axl and Beatrice discover, the same is true in their own lives.
The moral - if a single moral can be drawn - is how much of forgiving is forgetting?
The Buried Giant
by Kazuo Ishiguro
(Faber & Faber $36.99)