‘Leave off looking at that lady – she’s mine!’ he roared. ‘And look at me instead – for I’m the last thing you shall see before you die!’
So they set their spears in rest, and came together with a noise like thunder. Fair and square each hit the other in the centre of his shield – so mighty a stroke that the spears crumbled into sawdust, and the girths and bridles on their horses broke like cotton, and the two horses fell dead at the shock, and the two knights lay still and stunned on the red lawn so long that people began to murmur: ‘They have broken their necks! A mighty man indeed is this stranger, for ere this none has even so much as thrown the Red Knight from his saddle!’
But presently they staggered to their feet, drew their swords, and rushed together like two fierce lions, lashing at one another until pieces of armour flew from them on every side, and the blood ran down, dyeing the lawn a darker, rustier red. Presently they rested, and fought again, and at the hour of noon the Red Knight struck Sir Gareth’s sword out of his hand, and flung himself upon him to slay him. But Gareth wrestled with him, and at length threw him to the ground, tore off his helmet, and seized a sword to kill him.
‘Noble sir!’ cried the Red Knight, ‘I yield myself to your mercy – therefore spare my life, I pray you.’
‘It may not be,’ answered Sir Gareth, ‘for right shamefully have you dealt with many good knights, hanging them from the red tree – a churl’s death.’
‘Sir,’ said the Red Knight, ‘all that I have done I did for a lady’s sake. She it was who made this castle by her magic – and I loved her full well. Upon a time her brothers, so she told me, were slain by Knights of the Round Table: therefore had she great hatred towards King Arthur and all those who followed him. And she would have none of my love; howbeit, she swore to be mine when I had slain a hundred of King Arthur’s knights and hung them from yonder red tree on the red lawn.’
Then came the Lady Linnet and begged Gareth to spare his life, saying:
‘Know now, Sir knight, that all this was done of Queen Morgana le Fay to bring sorrow and despite upon Logres. But, by your mighty deeds, greater glory than ever is come of Logres: for so always shall such as you bring good out of the workings of another’s evil. Therefore spare this knight whose name is Sir Ironside, for in days to come he shall sit in an honourable siege at the Round Table.’
‘Rise, Sir Ironside,’ said Gareth. ‘Your life I give you. But ride now to the Court of King Arthur, give yourself and all your followers into his service, and say that the Knight of the Kitchen sent you.’
After this Sir Gareth rested for ten days in Sir Ironside’s pavilion; and when he was fully cured of his wound, he rode up to Castle Dangerous to meet the Lady Liones whom he had saved. But what was his surprise as he came over the drawbridge to see the door slammed shut in his face, and the portcullis come rattling down in front of him, while the Lady Liones leaned out of a window above the gate and cried to him:
‘Go away, Beaumains! Go away, Knight of the Kitchen! When you are a noble knight of noble birth, you shall have my love – but not before!’
At this Gareth was so enraged that without a word he turned and rode away into the depths of the forest, followed only by his dwarf.
But the Lady Linnet came and rebuked her sister, saying:
‘Fie upon you thus to treat the knight who has delivered you from your dangers! He is not what he seems, but of his name and birth I may not tell you as yet.’
Then Lady Liones called to her brother Sir Gringamour, and said to him:
‘Go now and follow the knight who is called Beaumains; and when he lies asleep, steal away his dwarf and bring him here. For the dwarf will surely know his master’s true name and lineage.’
‘Sister,’ said Sir Gringamour, ‘all this shall be done as you wish.’
All day he rode, and that night he found Sir Gareth sleeping under a tree, with his head upon his shield. Then he seized the dwarf, who sat by the horse a little apart, and rode off with him at top speed.
But the dwarf cried out: ‘Master! Master! Save me!’ And Gareth woke at the cry and followed Gringamour in the darkness, through wood and marsh, to the Castle Dangerous, though he knew not whither he had come.
Gringamour was there before him, however, and the dwarf had told his tale by the time Gareth came riding into the courtyard, shouting:
‘Traitor knight! Give me back my dwarf, or by my faith as a knight, I will strike off your head.’
Then the Lady Liones came down to him and made him welcome:
‘Fair greetings, Sir Gareth of Orkney,’ she said. ‘I am overjoyed to welcome you now into Castle Dangerous – my preserver and my love.’
‘Lady,’ said Sir Gareth, ‘you spoke not such words to me a while gone, though for your sake I had fought and vanquished the Black Knight, the Green Knight, the Blue Knight, and the Red Knight. Wherefore, though right willingly will I lodge in your castle for this night, it shall be as your guest only, and not as your love.’
The Lady Liones was angered at this, but she still spoke to him fairly, and made a great feast in his honour.
But as he lay in bed that night she sent a servant with a great sword to slay him. Gareth woke, however, as the man bent over him, and guarded the blow so that it pierced only his thigh. Then he leapt up, took his sword, and slew the murderer, smiting him into many pieces in his rage.
In the morning the Lady Liones rode to Camelot and there told King Arthur of how Sir Gareth had saved her from the Red Knight. And she asked him to hold a great tournament in Gareth’s honour – for full well she knew that he was either dead, or wounded with a sore wound that might not be healed.
But Linnet had found Gareth as he lay groaning on his bed; and she had wept at the shame which her sister had wrought by the evil magic of Morgana le Fay. But she too had learnt of the magic arts that are known in Avalon where dwells Nimue, the Lady of the Lake; and she wrought so well that Gareth was quite cured of his wound by the day of the tournament. And then she gave him a magic ring of many colours: and to those who saw him it seemed at one minute that he was clad in yellow armour, and the next in brown, one minute in black and the next in red: and no one might know who he was.
And at that tournament he rode many courses, jousting in turn with the bravest Knights of the Round Table, and overthrowing them all. But with Sir Launcelot he would not joust, nor with Sir Gawain his brother, and Sir Tristram was not yet there. Howbeit, there was no other knight so great as Sir Gareth, until the later days when Sir Galahad and Sir Percivale came also to Camelot.
When the tournament was ended King Arthur held his feast in the great hall, and Sir Gareth set the ring upon Linnet’s finger – and straightway was known by all.
Then the Green Knight, the Blue Knight, and the Red Knight came with their followers to do homage to King Arthur and to tell how the ‘Knight of the Kitchen’ had overcome them in fair fight. And King Arthur rejoiced in the glory which his nephew Sir Gareth had won, and set him in an honourable siege at the Round Table. And Gareth wedded the Lady Linnet with much joy, and they lived happily ever afterwards.
But the Lady Liones departed from Camelot, sad and ashamed. And she forswore all the evil magic which she had followed for so long; and in after years Sir Gaheris, Gareth’s brother, won her to be his wife.
4
Sir Tristram and the Fair Iseult
For many years after the founding of the Round Table two sieges remained empty, besides the Siege Perilous. The other places might sometimes lack a name for a little while as one knight or another was killed in some desperate battle or dangerous quest; but always there was another to take his place. But King Arthur knew that the two places by the Siege Perilous could not be filled so easily: these two places, the Siege Perilous, and one on either side of them were for the five best knights in Logres, and for these alone; Gawain sat in one and Launcelot in another to right and left of the Siege Perilous – but not even Sir Gareth or Sir Bors might sit in the two empty sea
ts.
Now upon a certain Feast of Pentecost when all the knights were gathered in Camelot, King Arthur spoke with Launcelot and Gawain concerning these two sieges.
‘There is one knight whose name I have heard tell of as the greatest of any,’ said Gawain. ‘But to your court he has never been. He is a Cornish knight, nephew to Mark, who is King of Cornwall under your overlordship, and his name is Tristram of Lyonesse.’
‘I met him once,’ said Launcelot. ‘He jousted with certain knights of the Round Table, Sir Lamorak and Sir Segramour, and overthrew them. Then he and I broke a lance together – and I will here avow him to be the best knight with whom I ever yet have jousted.’
‘We will send into Cornwall,’ said King Arthur, ‘and bid him come to our Court. For sure am I that it is of him that Merlin spoke, saying that for a little space he should sit at our board, and bring great glory to Logres … But here, methinks, begins the adventure of this day, without which we may not turn to the feast.’
For suddenly, as he spoke, they heard in the distance outside the hall the sad, sweet notes of a harp; and as they listened the music drew nearer to them – music so sad and sweet that no man there had ever heard the like, nor might many restrain the tears from running down their cheeks.
And then the minstrel came into the hall: a fine man, tall, broad and very noble to look upon; dark hair, dark eyes, and a dignity about him that might well have become a king. Yet he was poorly clad in such humble garments as a wandering minstrel wore, and when he had bowed to King Arthur, he took his seat on a stool near the door.
‘Come hither, good minstrel,’ said Arthur, when the magic of the music had a little faded from his heart, ‘and play to us once more, and sing of brave deeds, of noble knights and lovely ladies, for in them our heart delights. Whence come you?’
‘From Cornwall, noble King,’ answered the minstrel.
‘Have you heard tell of Sir Tristram of Lyonesse?’
‘Yea, noble Arthur, and him have I seen full often,’ said the minstrel. ‘And his story will I sing to you: a sad tale and a true one, as ye shall hear.’ He took the wine that was offered him in a great horn cup, drank to King Arthur, and sitting on a stool beside a great pillar, he began his lay, sometimes telling it as a story, and sometimes singing it to the sad, sweet music of the harp.
‘The tale tells that in Lyonesse a king lived and a queen; very happily they dwelt together, until upon a day an enemy came into the land of Rivalin that king to lay it waste with fire and sword. Rivalin went against him with all his men, but he was slain in battle, and Morgan the wicked ruled his land. And at that time Morgan made search for the queen, but she had fled into the forest with one faithful follower named Rual. And there in the forest a child was born to the Queen, and there she died and was buried. But before she died she gave the child to Rual: “Faith-keeper,” she said, “keep faith now to your dead lord and to your lady who will soon be dead. Take my child, and call him Tristram, for he was born in sorrow; tend him carefully and guard him as your own son, that in a day to come he may avenge our deaths and rule once more in Lyonesse. And when he is a man, let him seek help of my brother, King Mark of Cornwall.”
‘Rual took the boy, and never was child more kindly and lovingly fostered by his own parents than was Tristram by Rual and Rual’s wife. And when he grew older Kurwenal the wise taught him many things: to play upon the harp and to play at chess; to use a sword and a spear, and to ride a horse: and he took him through many foreign lands so that he might learn to speak their languages.
‘When Tristram was a tall youth, it chanced that a ship of Norway came to Lyonesse to trade; and the merchant spoke well with Rual, and was kindly entertained. But ever he looked upon Tristram. And at the last he invited Tristram to come aboard his ship and play at chess with him; and Tristram came, and he beat the merchant at every game. But while they played, the sailors drew up the anchor silently, hoisted the great white sails, and slipped out to sea, meaning to sell Tristram as a slave for much money.
‘A great storm arose, however, and for nine nights and days drove the ship before it, and all aboard feared greatly for their lives. Then the sailors clamoured, saying that a curse was upon them for stealing Tristram, and the merchant hearkened to them and set Tristram ashore upon the nearest land they chanced to see: and it happened that this was Cornwall. And when Tristram was come to shore, the storm ceased and the sun smiled out again.
‘In Cornwall, he came soon to King Mark’s court at Tintagel, knowing not yet that Mark was his uncle – for still he believed that Rual was his real father. King Mark entertained the wanderer kindly, and Tristram served him so well that before long he rose to be the King’s nearest and most trusted councillor. Then Rual came, seeking the wide world over for his lost fosterling, and he found Tristram with King Mark, and he saw that God had been working in these things.
‘When Mark knew that Tristram was his own nephew he made much of him, and the two dwelt there in happiness. For Mark sent his armies under Tristram’s charge into Lyonesse, and Morgan the wicked was slain: but Tristram set Rual to reign in Lyonesse, though he made it a part of Mark’s kingdom, and himself he dwelt still at Tintagel.
‘On a day Tristram came into the Court and found there great sorrow and lamentation: and in the seat of honour sat a great, dark man with a fierce face and mighty hands. And this was Sir Marhault of Ireland, who came from Gurman, Ireland’s king, to demand tribute from Mark whom once he had overcome in battle. And the tribute was that thirty lads of noble birth be sent into Ireland to become servants at the Court: or else that a knight should do battle with Marhault and slay him. But no one would do battle, for never was there a stronger knight in the world than Marhault.
‘“Shame be to you all,” cried Tristram. “Call you yourselves men, that you sell your own sons into slavery?”
‘“But nephew, we may not do otherwise!” said King Mark.
‘“You can fight!” cried Tristram. “Refuse to pay the tribute: do battle with Gurman the Irish tyrant – or let a knight of yours fight and slay this boastful braggart Sir Marhault!”
‘But none dared to fight, and Marhault laughed in scorn.
‘“I will fight with you, wild hound of Ireland!” cried Tristram, and he struck Sir Marhault across the face with his glove so that there might be no drawing back with honour.
‘The duel was to be upon a little island off the coast of Cornwall: with swords only were they to fight, and alone, with none to watch. Marhault came first in a little boat, and moored it to the shore; but Tristram pushed out his own boat so that it drifted away.
‘“What do you, insolent child?” growled Marhault. “You will need your boat when you want to run away from me!”
‘“Two men came living to this island,” Tristram said simply. “One living man only shall depart!”
‘Then Marhault laughed and drew his sword: Tristram drew his also, and they fought all day, giving each other many sore blows. And Marhault wounded Tristram once, a deep gash in the thigh. “That shall be your death!” he laughed, “for upon my sword is a magic ointment, and there are few indeed who can heal the wound into which it comes!”
‘Then in a fury Tristram rushed upon him, shouting: “Treacherous and ungentle knight, thus do I answer you.” And he clave through Marhault’s helmet and deep into Marhault’s skull, and his sword chipped, leaving a little piece in the wound. But Marhault fell to the ground, stricken to death, and yielded himself to Tristram. And that evening the men of Ireland set him upon a ship and sailed sadly home to Dublin; and there Marhault died, for all that his sister Queen Isaud could do – and she was skilled above all other women in the healing of wounds – but she drew out the broken chip of steel and kept it in a casket, swearing vengeance upon the striker of that blow.
‘Tristram lay sick in Tintagel, and none might cure his wound. And at length the wise men told him that in Ireland lay the cure, for thence the poison came, and only Queen Isaud might be able to heal it.
‘Tristram went to Ireland in disguise: he called himself the minstrel Tramtris, and sang so well that those who found him brought him to the Court. Now Gurman and Isaud had one child only, the loveliest damsel in the world, whose name was Iseult: all men speak of her the world over as Iseult the Fair – and surely there is none fairer: these eyes have seen her, and they have seen the beauties of many lands. King Gurman wished greatly that his daughter should learn to play upon the harp; yet there was no man in Ireland skilled enough to teach her. He heard of the minstrel Tramtris, whose harping all men praised, and he sent for him. Tramtris came, borne in a litter: “This wound I got of pirates as I voyaged to Ireland,” he told the King. “I travelled with a merchant in a ship of rich merchandise, and the sea-robbers took us after a fierce fight: they slew all on the ship, but me they spared because of my harping, and they set me in a little boat, with food and water, and therein your people found me when I drifted at length near to the Irish coast.”
‘Then the Queen Isaud tended Tramtris the minstrel, so that his wound closed up and grew better day by day, until he was whole again. And day by day he taught the Fair Iseult to play upon the harp, and to sing; and his heart was stirred by her beauty – yet still he set fame and deeds of arms before love, so that he wooed her not.
‘For a year dwelt Tristram unknown in Ireland, and at the end of that time he sailed back to Lyonesse, into Cornwall, and came to King Mark at Tintagel. But King Mark had heard tell of Iseult the Fair, and when Tristram spoke of her, his royal heart was stirred: and he held council with his lords, saying to them: “King Gurman of Ireland has no other child: would it not be well for both our lands if we made a firm peace together, and I took the Fair Iseult to wife?”
‘The nobles thought that this was indeed wise: “But how may it be brought about?” they asked. “Gurman of Ireland and Isaud his queen hate us for the slaying of Marhault, hate us also for the ceasing of our tribute. How then shall you win the hand of the Princess Iseult?”
King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table Page 12