‘God,’ he thought, ‘I wonder if I’m still any good at throwing? If I can’t take him by surprise and bring him down with a throw, then I fear I’ll have no chance. This vile rogue’s making me look a fool! Shame on me if he lasts much longer! I used to be good with my javelins – I had such a good aim and throw: if I wanted to bring down a buck or doe or any other creature it was dead! And this haughty, wicked giant’s as wild as any beast! By Saint Lazarus of Avalon, I’ll see if a throw’ll do any good against this foe who despises me!’

He took the lance and aimed at the giant, and head and pennon flew through his brain and sent him crashing dead. Perceval pulled out the lance, the head covered in blood, and held out his hands towards the east and thanked God that he’d killed the giant.

Gerbert's Continuation of Perceval