Read of Tristram’s wound
Tristram went out into the forest on a bright day, happy to wander, when he fell asleep beneath a plum tree. It so happened that a knight came upon him there, whose brother had been killed by Tristram. So the man promptly took up his bow, and wounded Tristram in the shoulder with an arrow. Tristram started up, with a shriek, and killed the man with his sword.
The report of this slaying reached the court of King Mark, and it was not long before the king discovered the location of the manor house. With many of his men in attendance, he rode out to kill Tristram. The knight had in fact gone hunting – no one knew where – and so the king had to be content with recapturing Isolde. He led her back to his court, and imprisoned her in a closed room where she was served by certain chosen attendants. When Tristram returned he noticed the tracks of many horses, and soon realized that his lady had been taken. His sorrow was aggravated by the pain he now felt, for the arrow that had pierced his shoulder had been filled with poison.
Isolde heard of his wound from one of the ladies who served her, and by secret means she sent this lady to Tristram. ‘You will not easily be healed,’ she told him. ‘Your lady, Isolde, cannot come to you. She bids you to travel to Brittany, and there visit the court of King Howell. His daughter, Isolde of the White Hands, will be able to cure you.’
Tristram and Gouvernail decided then to set sail for Brittany, where they were greeted warmly at the court of King Howell. ‘Your fame precedes you, Sir Tristram,’ the king said. ‘I will do anything to assist you.’
‘I have come here, sir, to seek help from your daughter. I have been told that only she can heal my wound.’ So the king sent for Isolde of the White Hands, and indeed she was able to cure Tristram’s wound. She had learned her skills from a priestess who had once worshipped one of the pagan goddesses.
There was a war in Brittany at this time between King Howell and an earl named Grip; the earl had already won a great battle against the king and was likely to besiege his castle. The king’s son had issued forth against Grip, but had been badly wounded. So Gouvernail sought an audience with Howell. ‘Sire,’ he told him, ‘I advise you to summon Tristram to help you.’
‘Good advice,’ the king replied. ‘Call him here.’
Sir Tristram took up the king’s cause and sallying forth from the castle with a few companions-in-arms, he inflicted a great defeat on Grip. He killed the earl with his own hands, and slew or captured all of his knights. Howell was of course entirely happy at the outcome. ‘I will give you my kingdom,’ he said to Tristram.
‘Oh no, sir. It was the least I could do. Your daughter saved me from a lingering death. I am indebted to her.’
The king and his son then tried by every means at their disposal to bring together Tristram and Isolde of the White Hands. She was wise, and she was beautiful. She was of royal blood. What else is there to say? Sir Tristram had such welcome and fair words from her that he almost forgot Queen Isolde. There came a time, in fact, when he agreed to marry Howell’s daughter. After the ceremony was over, and they were brought to bed, he recalled his old love for Isolde and was overwhelmed with sorrow. He would only embrace, and kiss, his new bride. He would not take her virginity. According to the old books, these were the limits of his lovemaking.
One day a knight from Brittany came to the court of King Arthur. He met Sir Lancelot du Lake at Camelot, and told him of Tristram’s marriage to the king’s daughter. ‘Shame on him,’ Lancelot said. ‘How could he be untrue to the lady he loves? How could he desert Isolde, the Queen of Cornwall? Tell him this. Once I loved and admired him beyond all other knights. I applauded all of his noble deeds. But now I am turned into his deadly enemy. The love between us has gone for ever.’
The knight went back to Brittany, and told Tristram what had taken place. ‘Lancelot,’ he said, ‘will be your mortal foe.’
‘I am sad and sick at heart for this,’ Tristram replied. ‘I am shamed for deserting my lady.’
At the same time Isolde wrote a grieving letter to Guinevere, in which she berated Tristram for betraying her and taking the king’s daughter as his bride. Guinevere replied with words of comfort. ‘Do not despair,’ she told her. ‘There will come joy after sorrow. Tristram has been undone by craft and sorcery. In the end, all will be well. He will come to hate her, and to love you better than he ever did.’
Tristram’s Madness and Exile
After a few months had passed, Isolde ceased to weep, but she was still sorrowful. She sent a sad letter to Tristram, in which she invited him and his wife to her court in Cornwall. ‘You will both be made welcome,’ she said. But Tristram had other plans.
Here we tell of the Perilous Forest
In the first days of spring, the time of awakening, Tristram called for one of his faithful knights; his name was Sir Kehadius, son of the King of Brittany. Tristram asked if he would be his companion on a secret journey to Cornwall. ‘I am ready to serve you at all times,’ Kehadius answered. So Tristram ordered a small vessel to be made ready, and there embarked with Kehadius and with his squire, Gouvernail. While they were at sea, however, a contrary wind drove them on to the shore of North Wales near the borders of the Perilous Forest. This was a wild and desolate place, close to a great mountain that is always covered in snow.
‘There are many stories about this forest,’ Tristram told Kehadius. Then he turned to Gouvernail. ‘Wait for us here for ten days,’ he said to him. ‘If we have not returned by then, take the road to Cornwall. I have been told that this forest holds many strange adventures, and I have a desire to experience them for myself. Have no fear. When we can, we will follow you.’
So the two companions rode into the forest for a mile or so, until they came upon a knight sitting armed beside a well. His horse was tethered to an oak tree, and his squire was busy with some spears. He was deep in thought, however, and seemed to be dismayed. ‘Why are you looking so mournful?’ Tristram asked him. ‘You are a worthy knight, I can tell. So prepare your arms and joust with me!’
The knight did not speak but stood up and asked his squire for sword and spear. He mounted his horse, and rode a little way off, where he waited. Sir Kehadius asked leave of Tristram to joust first.
‘If you wish,’ he replied. ‘Just do your best.’
Kehadius then rode against the knight, but received a wound in the chest that disabled him. Then Tristram took over. ‘Knight, you have jousted well!’ he called out. ‘Now prepare yourself.’
‘I am ready, sir, whoever you may be.’
So he took up his spear and forced Tristram from his horse. Tristram was shamed by this, and with a look of scorn he brandished his sword. ‘Dismount,’ he said, ‘and do me the honour of fighting on foot with me.’
‘By all means.’ He leaped lightly from his horse, and they began a battle that lasted for more than two hours.
‘Fair knight,’ Tristram said, ‘stay your hand a little. Let me know who you are.’
‘If you give me your name.’
‘Tristram de Liones.’
‘And I am Sir Lamorak de Galis.’
‘Well met, Lamorak. We have encountered each other in combat before, when I unhorsed you. It was you who sent the magic goblet to King Mark in revenge.’
‘No more words. Prepare to fight.’ Then Tristram lashed at him, but Lamorak dodged the blow. They fought long and hard, until both were exhausted. ‘I never fought with a knight,’ Tristram said, ‘who is so strong. It would be a shame to injure one another.’
‘Sir Tristram, for the sake of your great renown I will surrender to you.’
‘No. You are acting out of fairness, and not for any fear of me.’ Tristram offered him his sword. ‘Sir Lamorak. I yield to you. You are the bravest knight in the world.’
‘Shall we make a pledge never to fight one another again?’
‘Willingly.’
So they swore an oath that they would always maintain their friendship.
Then they took up Tris
tram’s wounded comrade, Sir Kehadius, and carried him on a shield to the cottage of a forester. They cared for him there for three days. They left him to recover and made their own way. When they came to a stone cross, they parted company.
Here we tell of another knight’s love for Guinevere
Sir Lamorak took the left path along a dusty road, choked with brambles and wild grasses. He rode on until he came to a chapel, where he put his horse out to pasture. While he rested there Sir Meliagaunt, the son of King Bagdemagus, dismounted. He did not see Lamorak, but laid himself down in the chapel, where he lamented his hopeless love for Queen Guinevere.
Lamorak heard all of this lament. When Meliagaunt left the chapel in sorrow, Lamorak went up to him. ‘You did not see me,’ he said, ‘but I was close by when you made your lament. Tell me this. Why do you love Queen Guinevere so fervently?’
‘Why? That is my fate. She is the fairest woman in the world. I will challenge anyone to deny it.’
‘I for one do deny it. The loveliest lady in the world is Queen Morgause of Orkney, the mother of Sir Gawain.’
‘Not so. I will prove it with my spear.’
‘Oh? Prepare yourself then. This will be a proper fight.’
So they descended upon one another in great wrath, and their spears clashed like thunder in a storm. They fell from their horses and then began a deadly battle with their swords. Wild boars could not have been more ferocious.
In the Perilous Forest there were always strange chances and meetings, magical encounters and mysterious vanishings. So it happened that Lancelot and his cousin Bleoberis then rode up, and recognized the two warring knights. Lancelot came between them. ‘What is the cause of this?’ he asked them. ‘You are both knights at the court of King Arthur. Why do you fight one another so fiercely?’
‘I will tell you the reason,’ Meliagaunt said. ‘I praised my lady Guinevere as the fairest in the world. But Lamorak denied it. He declared that Queen Morgause of Orkney was more lovely.’
‘Ah, Lamorak,’ Lancelot said, ‘it is not right that you should dispraise your own queen. Make yourself ready. I am prepared to challenge you myself.’
‘My lord,’ Lamorak replied, ‘I am reluctant to quarrel with you. Every knight thinks his own lady is the fairest. That is human nature. If I praise the lady I love, there is no reason to be angry with me. Of all the men in the world, with the exception of Sir Tristram, you are the one I most fear in battle. But, if you want to fight, then I will be forced to defend myself.’
Sir Bleoberis then spoke out. ‘My lord Sir Lancelot, Lamorak speaks the truth. I have a lady, too, and I believe her to be the most beautiful on earth. Will you then fight me? You know well enough that Lamorak is one of the most valiant knights living. Put down your sword, I pray you. Be friends.’
Sir Lancelot was abashed. ‘Sir,’ he said to Lamorak, ‘I have done you wrong. Forgive me. If I was too hasty, I will make amends.’ So they embraced in friendship and left one another.
Here we tell of Tristram’s new adventure
Sir Tristram had taken the other path through the Perilous Forest, where he saw strange shapes slipping between the trees and heard unaccustomed sounds as of bells and hammer blows. He was still searching for adventures. On his way he met Sir Kay, who hailed him.
‘What country are you from?’ he asked Tristram.
‘I am of Cornwall.’
‘Is that so? I have never known any good knight to come from Cornwall.’
‘So you say. And who are you, sir?’
‘Sir Kay.’
‘Oh. I know of you. You are believed to be the most ribald and evil-tongued of all knights. You are valiant enough, but you have enough venom to kill a viper.’
They rode together until they came to a bridge, where was stationed a knight who would not let them pass until one of them jousted with him. Sir Kay responded to the challenge, but he took a fall. The knight’s name, by the way, was Sir Tor.
The two men then made their way to a lodging; Sir Tor followed them, and joined them for supper. Sir Kay and Sir Tor, drinking deeply, then began to curse and scorn the knights of Cornwall. ‘They are boasters,’ Kay said, ‘foolish beyond all measure.’ Tristram listened to them in silence, revolving many thoughts in his head.
The next morning he rode with them. He took pleasure in jousting with them both, defeating them easily. ‘That blow,’ he said to himself, ‘was for Cornwall.’
Tor went up to Kay. ‘What is this knight’s name?’ he asked him.
‘I do not know as yet. Come with me. We will ask him.’
So they rode after him, and found him sitting by a well; he had taken off his helmet, and was using it to scoop up water. As soon as he saw them he put on his helmet, and offered to fight. ‘No,’ Sir Kay said, ‘we have already jousted with you. We have come to ask your name. On your honour as a knight, you must tell us.’
‘Since you have asked, my fair lords, I will answer. My name is Sir Tristram de Liones. I am the nephew of the King of Cornwall.’
‘We are fortunate to have met you,’ Sir Tor said. ‘I apologize for our harsh words last night. If we had known you were in our company, we would not have insulted you. But enough of that. Let me give you an invitation. We belong to a fellowship that would be pleased to greet you. You are the one knight in the world whom the Round Table would welcome.’
‘God thank you all,’ Tristram replied. ‘But I feel as yet that I am not ready for your fellowship. I have not performed deeds that would make me worthy of membership.’
‘If you are really Sir Tristram,’ Sir Kay said, ‘then you are too modest. Your reputation precedes you. You are a man of renown.’ They spoke a little more, and then went their separate ways.
Here we tell of King Arthur’s escape from death
King Arthur himself had come to Wales in order to assert his rule over that country. He took his court to a great castle in Cardiff, where the citizens did him homage. But there arrived a less welcome visitor. A sorceress, by the name of Aunowre, had come to the castle with the intention of luring the king into her bed. This sorceress had loved him for a long time, and now wished to lie with him. ‘Let me greet you in my own dwelling,’ she said to Arthur. ‘I live in a high tower that was built by giants many hundreds of years ago.’
‘Where is this ancient tower, lady?’
‘In the Perilous Forest, sire.’
‘The Perilous Forest? I have heard of that place. I have always wished to visit it.’
So he took up her invitation. When the king was gone, many of his knights rode after him in case of mischief. Among them were Sir Lancelot and Sir Braundiles. The lady took Arthur to her tower and entreated him to make love to her; but Arthur, remembering the grace of his lady, Guinevere, refused. None of the sorceress’s tricks or spells could persuade him. So she took him out riding every day with her own knights within the forest, and waited for an opportunity to slay him secretly. Now that he had rejected her, her love had turned to thoughts of revenge.
Nineve, once the servant of the Lady of the Lake, had become by means of her power and wisdom the new Lady; there must always be a Lady of the Lake, ever fresh and ever renewed, or the waters will leave the land to dust and weariness. The Lady, always a good friend to Arthur, understood by means of sorcery that he was likely to be destroyed by Aunowre. So she made her way to the Perilous Forest in order to warn Sir Lancelot or Sir Tristram of the danger to their king. She could see in her enchanted mirror that they were riding in that place. Only these two knights might save him. She rode into a field, close by the forest, where she saw Sir Tristram emerging from the trees. ‘Ah, good knight,’ she said, ‘we are well met. You must seize the moment. On this day, two hours from now, there will be committed the most destructive deed that has ever been done in this land.’
‘Fair lady, how can I help?’
‘Come with me. I will show you the most noble man in the world in great peril of his life.’
‘Willingly. Who is
this noble man?’
‘None other than your sovereign, Arthur.’
‘God defend him from any distress!’
They galloped into the forest, until they came to a castle made entirely of granite stone. Under the walls of this stronghold two knights were attacking a third. They had forced him to the ground and, when they unlaced his helmet, Tristram saw that King Arthur himself was at their mercy. The sorceress was standing beside them; she quickly took up Arthur’s sword and was about to behead him.
‘Traitors!’ Tristram screamed out. ‘Stay away from the king!’ He rode over and broke the backs of both knights with his spear. The sorceress uttered a scream and ran for cover among the trees.
The Lady of the Lake then cried out to Arthur, ‘Do not let that wicked woman escape!’
The king chased after Aunowre, and beheaded her with the sword he snatched from her. The Lady of the Lake took the head and tied it to the strings of her saddle. It was a fine trophy.
Sir Tristram now went over to the king, and helped him to mount his horse. When the king thanked him and asked for his name, Tristram replied that he was a poor knight adventurer. Nothing more. He accompanied Arthur through the forest, until the king found one of the knights who had been searching for him.
‘Will you not tell me your name?’ he asked Tristram as he was about to depart.
‘Not at this time,’ Sir Tristram replied.
Here we tell of Tristram’s quarrel with Isolde
The valiant knight now made his way back to the forester’s cottage, where he had left Kehadius wounded, and to his delight found his companion restored to health. ‘Let us find our boat,’ Tristram told him. ‘We will make our way over the waves to Cornwall.’
The Death of King Arthur Page 14