by Mike Ashley
His slung war horn was of ivory, his sword of gold, inlaid with a cross that shone like the lightning of heaven; his stirrups also were of pure gold. Two spears with silver shafts were in his hand, and two beautiful greyhounds, wearing collars set with rubies, sprang before him “like two sea-swallows sporting.” So lightly did his charger step that the blades of grass did not bend beneath his tread.
At length he came to Arthur’s castle, and having with much difficulty satisfied the Chief of the Porters of the Gate, a sturdy warrior known as the Dusky Hero with the Mighty Grasp, he made his way into Arthur’s presence and told the King his story.
“This one boon I crave of thee, O King,” he ended, “that thou wilt obtain for me Olwen, the daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants, to be my bride. I ask it of thee and of all thy valiant knights, for the sake of of all the fair ladies who have ever lived in this land.”
Then Arthur said: “My Prince, I never heard of this maiden, nor of her kindred, but messengers shall at once set forth to seek her if thou wilt give them time.”
So it was agreed that, this being New Year’s Day, they should be given until the last day of the year for their quest.
The messengers of Arthur set forth in haste, each taking a different way. They travelled throughout all the land of Britain, the “Island of the Mighty,” and then to foreign lands, asking as they went: “Dost thou know aught of Olwen, the daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants?”
But everyone said “No.”
At length came the end of the year, and on the appointed day the messengers appeared in the wide White Hall of Arthur’s castle, and all alike declared that they had no news whatever to declare concerning the maiden Olwen.
Then Kilhugh was very angry, and said in hasty words: “I alone am denied by my lord the gift I ask. I will depart from hence at once, and take with me the honour of Arthur, whom men call the most honourable King.” But Kai, one of the knights, reproved him for his angry speech, and offered to go forth with him and any others who would accompany them, saying:
“We will not part till we have found the maiden, or till thou art forced to own she is not among those who dwell on this earth.”
So Arthur chose six of his knights to go forth with Prince Kilhugh upon his quest.
First came Kai, whose offer had but just been spoken. An excellent spy and sentinel was he, for he could make himself as tall as the tallest tree in the forest, and so scan all the country round. He could hide himself under water, and lie hidden in lake or river for nine days and nights if need be. Such fire was in his nature that when they needed warmth his companions had but to kindle the piled wood at his finger; he could walk through torrents of rain as dry as on a summer’s day; he could go for nine days and nights without sleep, and no doctor could heal the wound made by his sword.
Next came Sir Bedivere, close brother-in-arms to Kai, the swiftest runner, save Arthur himself and one other, in all the land. One-handed was he, yet he could give more wounds in battle than any three warriors together.
Then followed Uriel, who understood the speech of all men and all beasts; and Gawain, who was called the “Hawk of May,” because he never returned from any undertaking until it had been performed by him.
The fifth to answer Arthur’s call was Merlin, a master of magic, who knew how to put a spell upon the knights that would render them invisible.
Last came Peregrine the Guide, who knew how to find the way as well in a strange country as in his own.
“Go forth, O Chieftains,” said the King, “and follow the Prince upon his quest; and great shall be the fame of your adventure.”
So the Seven Champions rode forth through the great gates of the palace, and set out with high hearts to seek for Olwen, daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants.
Onward and onward rode Kilhugh and the six knights until they came at length to a vast plain, stretching in every direction farther than the eye could reach. Over it they rode, and at length perceived through the misty air the towers and battlements of a great castle far away on the borders of the moorland. They rode towards this castle all day long, but yet they never seemed to get any nearer.
All the next day they went on riding, and still the castle seemed as far away as ever. The third evening brought them no nearer. At length Sir Gawain exclaimed: “This must be Fleeting Castle, which can always be seen from a distance, but can never be actually reached.”
Now, on the fourth day, to their surprise, the castle no longer advanced before them as they approached, and soon they were able to draw rein before it, and to wonder in amazement at the thousands of sheep which fed upon the plains surrounding its massive walls. Near by sat the shepherd with his dog, tending his enormous flock. The shepherd was a giant in size, and was dressed in the skins of wild beasts. The dog was larger than a full-grown horse; he had the shaggiest of coats, and, though an excellent sheep-dog, was destructive enough elsewhere, for with his fiery breath he would burn up all the dry bushes and dead trees in that region.
The Champions looked somewhat doubtfully at this great animal, and Kai suggested to Uriel that as he knew all tongues, he had better go and speak to the shepherd.
“Not I,” answered Uriel. “I agreed when we set out to go just as far as thou, and no farther.”
But Merlin came to them, and explained that he had cast a spell over the dog, so that he could not hurt them. So Kilhugh and Kai and Uriel went together to the shepherd, and asked him very politely who owned that countless flock of sheep, and who lived in yonder castle.
“Where have ye lived not to know that?” cried the shepherd. “Everyone in the world ought to know that this is the Castle of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants.”
“And who art thou?” they asked.
“I am Constantine, the brother of Thornogre Thistlehair,” replied the man, with an angry look. “A fine brother indeed has he been to me! He has taken from me all my lands and possessions, and now I am obliged to earn a living by feeding his sheep.”
Then he asked them why they came, and when they replied that they were seeking for Olwen, daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, he sadly shook his head.
“Alas!” he said, “no one ever tried to find her, and returned from this place alive. Go back at once, lest ye all perish also.”
“That will we never do!” cried Kilhugh; and the Champions echoed his words.
Then Constantine inquired who Kilhugh was, and when he heard, he cried out that he was his own nephew, and begged that he and his comrades would spend a night at his house, and to this they readily agreed. And as a mark of affection Kilhugh gave his uncle a golden ring; but it was much too small for the giant, who put it forthwith into the finger of one of the gloves which hung from his belt as a sign of his rank as chieftain. Then he signalled to his dog, who immediately began to drive the sheep towards home.
When they reached the house the giant entered first, and gave his wife his gloves to hold. She soon pulled out the ring, and at once began to question him about it; so he told her that their nephew Kilhugh, with six comrades, was even then dismounting at the door. Then the shepherd’s wife was glad, and ran forth with hands outstretched to clasp him in her arms; but so big and strong was she that, as Kai quickly saw, no knight could survive her embrace. So as she threw her arms round Kilhugh’s neck, he snatched up a log of firewood, and pushed it into her arms instead of the young prince; and when she unloosed it, it was twisted out of all shape. It was somewhat to their relief, therefore, when she took them into the house without further embracing, and set them down to supper. This was a very frugal meal, and served with great simplicity, for Thornogre had not left his brother so much as a silver goblet or a single chair in his barren hall.
When they had supped, the shepherd’s wife asked Kai and Uriel to stay behind after the rest had gone out to the courtyard, and, taking them to the chimney-corner, she opened a great stone box. As she lifted the lid, to their amazement a beaut
iful boy with golden, curly hair rose up from within.
“Pity indeed,” exclaimed Uriel, “to keep so handsome a child shut up here. What hath he done?”
Then the lady wept, and answered: “All my three and twenty sons have been killed by Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants; and now my only hope of keeping him alive is to hide him in this chest, where he has lived ever since he was born.” And she wept to think that her boy would never have a chance of doing valiant deeds and of becoming a great knight. Then Kai bade her be of good cheer and let the lad come with them, promising that he should not be slain unless he, Kai, were killed as well.
She agreed to this very gladly, and asked them why they had come to that region. But when she knew they had come to seek for Olwen, she advised them strongly to go home, since in that very quest all her three and twenty sons had perished.
They laughed at her fears, however, and asked if the maiden ever came to the shepherd’s house.
“Yes,” said the shepherd’s wife; “she comes every Saturday to wash her hair. She leaves behind her all her jewels and rings in the water which she uses, and never asks for them again.”
Then they begged her to ask fair Olwen to visit her at once, and she agreed, on condition that they would not carry her off against her will.
To this the Champions agreed, and sat waiting in a hall for the coming of the maiden.
Very fair she looked as she approached, dressed in a robe of flame-coloured silk, and wearing a jewelled collar of gold round her neck.
More yellow was her hair than the flower of the broom, and her skin was whiter than the foam of the wave; and fairer were her hands and fingers than the blossoms of the wood-anemone amidst the spray of the meadow fountain. The eye of the trained hawk, the glance of the falcon were not brighter than hers. Her bosom was more snowy than the breasts of the white swan; her cheek was redder than the reddest roses. Who so beheld her was filled with love of her. Four white trefoils sprang up wherever she trod; therefore was she called Olwen of the White Footprints.
Having entered the house she sat down by Kilhugh, who at once loved her greatly, and began to pray her to come away with him, and be his wife. But Olwen, though she returned his affection, answered that she had promised her father not to go away without his leave. She also told him that Thornogre knew that her bridal day was fated to be the day of his death, so that he would withhold his leave as long as possible. She advised him, however, to go to her father, and to grant him everything he demanded, and so in time he should win her hand; but if he denied the giant’s least request, he would lose both her and his own life.
When she had said this, she returned to the castle.
The Seven Champions now determined to make their way to the castle, and force an entrance to the hall of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants. It was very dark when they set out, but they easily found their way by the trail of white trefoils which the footprints of Olwen had left.
The castle was guarded by nine warders at the gate and nine watch-dogs along the road which led up to it; but a strange silence had fallen upon both men and beasts, and the Champions slew them all without a sound being heard.
Then they passed through the great door, and entered the hall of the castle.
Just opposite the entrance sat Thornogre Thistlehair upon a high wide throne. He was terrible to look upon. His eyebrows were so long and bushy that they fell over his eyes like a curtain, and he was taller and broader than three other giants put together. Close by his hand lay three poisoned darts.
After they had greeted him courteously, he asked who they were; and they replied that they were come from Arthur’s Court to ask that Olwen, his daughter, should marry Kilhugh the Prince. Then the giant roared for his pages to come and prop up his eyebrows, that he might see what sort of son-in-law was proposed for him.
So when they had propped up his eyebrows he looked angrily at Kilhugh, and bade him come the next day for his answer.
But as they went out of the hall, the giant threw one of his poisoned darts at them. Sir Bedivere caught it just in time and threw it back so neatly that it caught the giant in the knee. Then they laughed, and withdrew, leaving him to storm at them, declaring that the great wound hurt as much as the sting of a gadfly, and that he might never be able to walk quite so well again.
At dawn the next day they returned to the castle, and again demanded the hand of fair Olwen in marriage. But the giant replied: “I can do naught in this matter till I have consulted her four great-grandmothers and her four great-grandfathers. Come again for my answer.”
So they turned to leave the hall; but as they went the giant snatched up the second of his poisoned darts, and flung it after them. Merlin caught it deftly, however, and threw it back with such force that it entered his chest, and stuck out through his back. This left him grumbling that never again would he be able to climb a hill without losing breath, and fearing lest he now might sometimes suffer from pains in the chest.
The third time they visited the giant he was on his guard, and shouted to them not to dare throw any more darts on pain of death. Then he roared to his pages to lift up his eyebrows, and when they had done it, he snatched up the third poisoned dart, and flung it at them without more ado.
But Kilhugh caught it this time, and cast it back at him, so that it pierced one of his eyes. Then, while he grumbled that now his sight would not be so good as before, they went out to dine.
These events made the giant treat his visitors on their next arrival with more civility; besides, he had no more poisoned darts. He once more inquired why they had come, and when he realized that Kilhugh was determined to marry Olwen, he made him promise that he would do all that he required of him in return for his agreement to the marriage. Kilhugh, mindful of Olwen’s warning that he was to agree to perform whatever her father proposed, gave a ready promise, and bade him ask away.
Then did Thornogre Thistlehair propound to him forty Impossible Things, of which these seven are the chief:
Firstly, he must gather nine bushels of flax sown hundreds of years ago in a field of red earth, of which never a seed had sprouted. Not one grain of the measure must be missing, and they must be sown again in a freshly ploughed field to make flax for Olwen’s wedding veil.
Secondly, he must find Mabon, the son of Modron, who was stolen from his mother when three days old, and had not since been heard of.
Thirdly, he must find the Cauldron of Cruseward the Cauldron-Keeper, in which, if one tries to cook food for a coward, one may wait for ever for the water to boil but if for a brave man the meal is ready directly it is placed therein. In this cauldron must all the food for the wedding feast be prepared.
Fourthly, since the giant must shave for the wedding, he must obtain for a razor the tusk of the Boar-headed Branch-breaker, which to be of any use must be taken from his skull while he yet lived.
Fifthly, since the giant must wash his hair, all matted together as it was, for the wedding, he must bring to him the Charmed Balsam kept by the Jet-Black Sorceress, daughter of the Snow-White Sorceress, from the Source of the Brook of Sorrow, at the edge of the Twilight Land.
Sixthly, that the giant’s hair might be smoothed and combed he must bring the scissors and the comb that are found between the ears of Burstingboar, the Wide-Waster, since they alone would perform the operation without breaking.
Seventhly, he must obtain the sword of Garnard the Giant, since that alone would kill the Wide-Waster, from whom, unless he were killed, the comb and scissors could never be obtained.
When he had made an end of speaking, the giant jeered at the Prince, who, unless he could do all these impossible things, might never wed his daughter. But Kilhugh answered with a high heart: “I have knights for my companions, horses and hounds, and Arthur is my kinsman. I shall do all that thou requirest, thou wicked giant, and shall win thy daughter, but thou shalt lose thy life.”
Scarcely had the Seven Champions left the castle of Thornogre Thistlehair whe
n they were joined by the fair-haired son of the shepherd, who had lived all his life in the chest. Eager to make a great name for himself he implored them to let him accompany them, which accordingly they did. Then they turned their faces towards Arthur’s castle.
At evening-time they reached the gates of a very great castle, the largest in the world, and as they pulled up their horses before it, an enormous black giant came out of the gate, and looked at them very hard. They greeted him politely, and asked whose castle this was.
“’Tis the castle of Garnard the Giant,” he answered.
They looked at each other with glee, for one of the appointed tasks was to obtain the sword of this very giant. Then they asked if he were used to treat strangers courteously.
The black man shook his head. “No stranger ever entered that castle and came out alive,” said he; “but ye have little chance of entrance, for no traveller is permitted to enter who knows no handicraft.”
The Seven Champions on hearing this rode on to the entrance gate, and called for admittance. The porter refused, however, saying that there was revelry within, and that no man set foot inside who did not bring his craft with him. But Kai declared that he was a burnisher of swords, and that no man could excel him at that trade, whereupon the porter went to report the matter to Garnard the Giant. Now, it so happened that Garnard had long wished for one who could brighten and clean his sword, so he bade the porter to admit him.
So Kai entered alone, and was brought before the giant, who ordered his sword to be brought to him. Then Kai drew out his whetstone, and, first asking if he required it to glitter with a blue or a white lustre, he polished half the blade, and returned it to the giant, saying: “How is that?”
The giant was highly pleased. “If the rest of my sword can be made to look like that,” said he, “I shall value it above all my treasures. But how comes it that so clever a craftsman is wandering about alone without a companion?”
“But I have a companion,” said Kai – “a cunning craftsman, too, though not at this work. Send, I pray you, and admit him. And the porter shall know him by this sign: the head of his lance shall spring into the air, draw blood from the wind, and return to its place again.”