King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table

by Roger Lancelyn Green

  ‘To-day’ said Merlin, ‘is the day of the first Quest. Many strange adventures in the years to come shall begin as you sit at meat here about the Round Table: but I shall not be here to see them … But now be still, for you shall see a strange and marvellous thing.’

  As they sat, waiting in silence, a white hart came running into the hall, and behind it a white brachet or small hunting dog, and behind them a pack of sixty great black hounds baying loudly. Round the table ran the white hart, and as it drew near the door again, the brachet came up behind and snapped fiercely at its flank, so that it gave a great leap to one side, knocking over a knight called Sir Abelleus who sat eating at a small table. At once the knight seized the brachet and strode quickly out of the hall, where he took his horse and rode away still carrying it. The black hounds went away into the forest after the white hart; but before the bell of their baying had died away in the distance, there came riding into the hall a damsel on a white palfrey, and cried aloud to King Arthur, saying:

  ‘My lord King, suffer me not to be robbed in this way; for the brachet is mine which yonder knight has taken with him!’

  ‘But this is no affair of ours!’ said King Arthur, who feared very much that he himself might be called upon to ride after Sir Abelleus, then and there on his wedding day.

  Hardly had he spoken when a stranger knight, fully armed and riding a great horse, came into the hall and by force led the damsel away with him, however loudly she cried and complained.

  Arthur was glad when she had gone, for she had made such a noise. But Merlin rebuked him:

  ‘You may not let this pass so lightly,’ he said. ‘Such an adventure must be followed to the end – else it were shame to Logres, and to you and your knights.’

  ‘I will do as you advise me,’ said King Arthur.

  ‘Then send Sir Gawain to bring back the white hart,’ directed Merlin. And Sir Tor to bring the brachet and the knight, if the knight be not slain by him. ‘And let King Pellinore bring the damsel, and the knight, living or dead, who forced her away. For these three knights shall have marvellous adventures ere they come again. And when they return, I will have more to tell you concerning the Round Table. But after that, I must go from you, for the damsel is the Lady Nimue, who calls me to my long sleep …’

  The three new knights, on receiving each their orders as to their quest, armed and mounted and rode away into the forest.

  Sir Gawain took with him his young brother Gaheris to be his squire, and before they had gone far, they found two knights on horseback fighting fiercely with their swords.

  ‘Stay!’ cried Gawain, riding between them. ‘For what cause are you fighting?’

  ‘Sir,’ answered one of the knights, ‘a white hart came by not long ago, with a cry of black hounds close behind it. Now we knew, my brother and I, that this was an adventure made for the high feast of King Arthur’s wedding, and each of us desired greatly to follow the Quest of the White Hart. Then we fell to quarrelling as to which of us was the better knight, and of that quarrel grew many blows …’

  ‘Shame be upon you, brothers and knights, thus to fight!’ cried Gawain. ‘Go now and render yourselves prisoners to King Arthur.’

  ‘And if we do not?’ said the younger knight.

  ‘Why then, I will fight you until you do, or lie dead!’ cried Gawain.

  ‘We will go straightway to King Arthur,’ they said, ‘and tell him that the knight who follows the Quest of the White Hart has sent us!’ Then they bowed to him and departed towards Camelot: but Sir Gawain went forward on his Quest.

  Deep into the forest he went, with Gaheris riding close behind him; and before long they could hear the bell of the black hounds in front of them, and knew that they were going in the right direction.

  Presently they came out of the forest, on to the banks of a wide river, and saw the white hart swimming across it, with the hounds still following. And as Sir Gawain would have ridden into the water, a knight rode up on the further side and shouted:

  ‘You there! Come not over after the white hart, unless you want to fight with me!’

  ‘I do not fear to do that,’ answered Gawain. ‘Fight I will, rather than turn aside from my quest!’

  He splashed across the river, and on the further side they drew apart and came together in so mad a rush that Gawain smote the knight over his horse’s tail.

  ‘Yield you now!’ cried Gawain.

  ‘Not I!’ answered the knight, struggling to his feet. ‘I am Sir Allardyne of the Outer Isles, and never will I yield with life to a raw young knight like you.’

  So Gawain leapt down from his horse, and to it they went with their swords, striking mighty blows. But in a little while Gawain smote Allardyne of the Outer Isles such a slash across the head that his helmet split in half, and his head also – and that was the end of him.

  ‘Ah,’ said Gaheris proudly. ‘That was indeed a mighty stroke for so young a knight.’

  After the white hart they went, following six of the black hounds which still were hot on its trail. And at length they came into a great castle, and in the courtyard the hounds overtook and slew the white hart. Then the Lord of the Castle, a mighty man with an evil face, came out of his chamber, roaring with rage, and began slashing at the hounds with his sword, crying:

  ‘Alas for the white hart that I gave to my lady and I kept so badly! A cruel death shall they die who have killed you!’

  ‘Cease from this!’ cried Gawain, angrily. ‘Satisfy your anger upon me rather than upon dumb beasts – for the hounds did only what their nature prompted.’

  ‘You speak the truth!’ yelled the Lord of the Castle. ‘I have killed your curs – now only the cur their master remains to slay!’

  Then he and Gawain set to fiercely with their swords, the Lord of the Castle striking many cowardly strokes which angered Gawain sorely. But at last, after several wounds given on either side, Gawain struck so hard that the other came clattering down at his feet, crying for mercy and calling Gawain a sweet, gentle knight instead of the unpleasant names he had used a little while before.

  ‘You shall die!’ cried Gawain, mad with rage, and he whirled round his sword and struck at the Lord of the Castle, meaning to cut off his head. But at that moment the Lady of the Castle, who had been watching the battle, ran out and flung herself upon her husband’s body. And her neck came in the way of Gawain’s whirling sword, so that before he could stop he had smitten off her head instead of his enemy’s.

  Then Gawain was filled with horror and shame for what he had done, and he let the Lord of the Castle rise unhurt, and said that he would spare his life.

  ‘I would not mind if you killed me now,’ he said, ‘for you have slain my lady love whom I loved better than anything in the world.’

  ‘What is your name?’ asked Gawain.

  ‘I am Sir Blamoure of the Marsh,’ was the answer.

  ‘Then go you to King Arthur’s court: tell him truly all that has happened. Say that the Knight of the White Hart sent you.’

  Sir Blamoure mounted his horse and rode away; but Gawain went sadly into the castle with Gaheris.

  ‘I am a shamed knight,’ he said, ‘for I have slain a lady. Had I been merciful to Sir Blamoure, this would not have happened!’

  ‘We are in danger here,’ said Gaheris. And even as he spoke four armed knights came striding into the hall and attacked Gawain fiercely. ‘You, a new-made knight,’ they cried, ‘have shamed your knighthood! A knight without mercy is dishonoured: but to kill a fair lady is shame unto the world’s end! Doubt not that you shall have great need of mercy before you depart from us!’ Then they made at Gawain so fiercely that in the end they wounded him sorely, and took him and Gaheris prisoner.

  They would have been slain there and then, had not four fair ladies come and begged for their lives.

  ‘Now what cheer, Sir knight?’ one of the ladies asked Gawain.

  ‘Not good!’ he answered.

  ‘Why so? The fault is your own, for
you did a passing foul deed in slaying this lady … But tell me, are you not of King Arthur’s court?’

  ‘Yes, truly. I am Sir Gawain, son of King Lot of Orkney, and my mother is Morgawse, the sister of King Arthur.’

  ‘Get you back in peace to the Court,’ said the ladies, ‘but we lay this penance upon you, that you bear the body of the lady whom you slew, and her head also: tell King Arthur all that has come to pass, and give her honourable burial.’

  So Gawain and Gaheris rode sadly back towards Camelot.

  But meanwhile Sir Tor had ridden another way after the knight who stole the brachet. And he had not gone far before he met suddenly with a dwarf who struck his horse such a blow on the head with his staff that the poor beast went staggering back a spear’s length.

  ‘Why do you strike my horse?’ asked Sir Tor angrily.

  ‘Because you shall not pass this way unless you joust with the knights in yonder pavilions!’ answered the dwarf.

  Then Sir Tor perceived that by the roadside stood two pavilions, with a great shield hanging on a tree beside each of them, and a great spear leaning beside each shield.

  ‘I may not tarry for jousting,’ said Sir Tor, ‘for I am upon a quest which I must not delay in following.’

  ‘Nevertheless, you shall not pass!’ cried the dwarf; and seizing a great horn, he blew it loudly.

  At once a knight strode out of the nearest pavilion, took his shield, vaulted upon his horse, caught up his spear, and came thundering down upon Sir Tor, who had scarcely time to set his own spear in rest and spur forward to meet him. Nevertheless, he rode so well that he caught the stranger knight fairly in the centre of the shield and sent him flying over his horse’s tail. And in the same way he smote the second knight, laying him flat on the ground beside his companion.

  ‘Now,’ said Sir Tor, looking down at them both, ‘get you both up and go to the Court of King Arthur, and say that I sent you – the Knight in Quest of the Brachet. Otherwise, I will slay you where you lie!’

  Both of them swore to obey him, and Sir Tor was turning to ride on his way, when the dwarf came up to him. ‘Sir,’ he said, ‘grant me a boon, I beg!’

  ‘I will indeed,’ answered Sir Tor. ‘What is it that you wish for?’

  ‘I ask only that you will let me be your servant,’ said the dwarf. ‘Let me follow you now – for I will no longer serve these cowardly knights!’

  ‘You are welcome,’ said Sir Tor. ‘Take now a horse, and come with me.’

  ‘You ride after the knight with the white brachet, do you not?’ said the dwarf. ‘I shall bring you to where he is!’

  Through the forest they went, and came before long to where two silken pavilions stood beside a priory, with a white shield hanging outside one of them, and a red shield outside the other.

  Then Sir Tor dismounted, and while the dwarf held his horse and spear, he went to the white pavilion and looked inside. And there he saw three damsels lying asleep on rich couches. Without waking them, he went to the other pavilion, where he found but one damsel lay sleeping – but by her side was the white brachet, and when it saw him it barked so loudly that the lady woke.

  Sir Tor picked up the brachet, which had come running at him, and handed it to the dwarf.

  But a moment later the lady came out of her pavilion, with the three damsels who had been wakened by the noise, and she said to him:

  ‘Knight, why do you take my brachet from me?’

  ‘I must,’ answered Sir Tor, ‘for I have come in quest of it from King Arthur’s court.’

  ‘You shall not go far without suffering for this unkind deed,’ said the lady.

  ‘I shall bear quietly whatever adventure may befall me,’ said Sir Tor, and turning, he rode back the way he had come.

  They had not gone far on the road to Camelot, however, when they heard the sound of hooves behind them, and the voice of Sir Abelleus, the knight who had first taken the brachet, shouting:

  ‘Knight! Wait awhile, and give me back the brachet which you have stolen from my lady!’

  Sir Tor turned at this, and set his spear in rest. Then Sir Abelleus did likewise, and they rode together with a great crash which flung them both from their horses. Then they drew their swords and fell to the battle, striking great strokes until the armour flew from them in fragments like the splinters beneath a woodman’s axe. At last Sir Tor struck Sir Abelleus to the earth.

  ‘Yield now!’ he cried.

  ‘Never!’ gasped Abelleus. ‘Never while I live, unless you give me back the brachet.’

  ‘That will I not,’ said Sir Tor, ‘for it was my quest to bring it back to King Arthur, and to send you thither as a vanquished knight.’

  At that moment a damsel on a palfrey came riding up as hard as ever she could.

  ‘Sir knight! Sir knight!’ she cried to Sir Tor. ‘For the love of King Arthur and the glory of his court, give me the gift that I shall ask you! As you are a gentleman, grant me that which I shall ask!’

  Now when Sir Abelleus saw the damsel, he started to tremble; and very slowly he rolled over and began to crawl away.

  ‘Well,’ said Sir Tor, ‘ask a gift, fair damsel, and I will give it you.’

  ‘I thank you,’ she answered. ‘And now I shall ask you for the head of this false knight Abelleus, for he is the most outrageous knight living, and the wickedest murderer.’

  ‘Now I repent me of my promise,’ said Sir Tor. ‘Cannot he make amends for any wrong that he has done you?’

  ‘Not possibly,’ said the damsel, ‘for he slew my own brother before mine eyes, and would not spare him, though I knelt half an hour in the mud begging him for mercy. So strike off his head quickly, I beg of you – or else I shall shame you as a false knight at the Court of King Arthur.’

  Sir Abelleus heard all this, and now he stood a little way off and begged Sir Tor to spare his life.

  ‘I may not now,’ said Sir Tor, ‘or I should be false to my promise. Moreover, I offered you mercy a little while ago, and you would not yield.’

  Then Abelleus turned and ran, but Sir Tor overtook him quite soon, and smote off his head at a single blow.

  ‘Now sir,’ said the damsel, ‘come and rest a little while at my manor which is near by.’

  So Sir Tor went with her, and was entertained well by the good old knight her husband, who thanked him for having avenged the murder, and told him that he would ever find a welcome with him and his wife.

  Then Sir Tor rode towards Camelot in the cool of the evening, the dwarf carrying the brachet behind him; and before long he found his father, King Pellinore, weeping over a dead knight and lady beside a well.

  ‘Alas, my father,’ said Sir Tor, ‘what sorrow has befallen you here?’

  ‘This shame is mine,’ said King Pellinore; ‘when I rode out from Camelot to bring back the Lady Nimue, I was so eager in my quest that I would not stay for any. As I came past the well, this lady called to me: “Help me, knight, help me for Christ’s sake!” But I would not stay. And now she has slain herself, for grief as I perceive, for this knight who has died of his grievous wounds.’

  Then the Lady Nimue came from the edge of the forest and asked King Pellinore the cause of his sorrow.

  ‘Now do as I advise,’ she said, when he had told her. ‘Take up these bodies and bear them with you to Camelot that they may have honourable burial’

  ‘How did you fare in your quest?’ asked Sir Tor when he had told his father of the quest of the brachet.

  ‘It was not hard,’ answered King Pellinore. ‘When I had ridden some way through the forest, I came upon the Lady Nimue held by two squires.

  ‘“Fair lady”, said I, “you must come with me to King Arthur.”

  ‘“That would I gladly,” she answered.

  ‘“You may not have her,” said the squires, “until you have spoken words with the two knights who fight for her yonder.”

  ‘Turning, I saw two knights battling furiously with swords, until all the grass of the glade was t
rampled and bloody. Riding to them, I asked why they were fighting.

  ‘“For this lady!” they said. “And you shall not have her!” Then, without more ado, they both turned and attacked me. And before I had time to dismount, one of them leapt forward and killed my horse, laughing: “Now you are on foot as well as we are!”

  ‘“Guard yourself!” I cried in a great rage, “for I will give to you such a buffet for slaying my horse – ” Then I struck – and split his helmet, and his head to the chin at one blow!

  ‘But the other knight did not try to fight with me. “I am Sir Meliot of Logure,” he said, “and I did but strive to save the Lady Nimue from this man whom you have slain. Take now his horse, since he has slain yours, and ride with my cousin the Lady Nimue to King Arthur’s court. And one day you will see me there also.” Then we rode back slowly – and met you beside the well.’

  A little nearer to Camelot they overtook Sir Gawain, riding sadly with the lady’s body across the saddle before him. And together they came through the streets in the soft evening light and into the great hall of the castle where Arthur and his knights were sitting at supper about the Round Table.

  Then, before they could sit down in their places, each of them was bidden to tell of their adventures on the quest which had been set him.

  ‘Ah, King Pellinore,’ said Queen Guinevere, ‘you were greatly to blame that you saved not the lady’s life beside the well.’

  ‘Alas,’ said Pellinore. ‘I was so fierce on my quest that nothing could stop me – but I shall blame myself all the days of my life.’

  ‘Well may you,’ said Merlin gravely, ‘for the lady was your own daughter Alyne whom you have sought these many years, and her husband was the good knight Sir Miles of Llandys.’

  ‘Your son, Sir Tor, has done well,’ said Arthur gently, striving to soothe King Pellinore in his grief. ‘Right gladly do I welcome him to his place at my Table, and sit you also – for you will not again ride past those who beg you for help. But what of my nephew Gawain? Why does he look so full of sorrow, and carry the headless body of a damsel?’