The Death of King Arthur (18 page)

‘Say no more, false traitor!' Sir Andred called out. ‘This is your last day on earth.'

‘Ah, Andred,' Tristram replied, ‘you are my kinsman, but you are ready to kill me. Is that so? I tell you this. If we were alone together, you would not dare to raise your sword against me.'

‘No?' Andred drew his sword, and advanced upon him. Tristram was tied by the hands to two knights, but with one great effort he hauled his guards together and managed to wrench himself free from the ropes. Then he sprang upon Andred and wrestled his sword from him. He fought wildly, as others came for him, and killed ten of his enemies. Then he fled into the chapel. The cry went up against him, and a hundred men flocked to Andred. Tristram knew that he might be trapped. He bolted the door of the chapel, and then unbarred a window at the back. From there he leaped on to the rocks below, and hid from sight in a small cave. He placed a great stone against the entrance, so that he would not be found. Andred and his men departed at last after a long search, in the belief that Tristram had dived into the sea and perhaps been drowned. Then he came out of hiding, in the knowledge that his companions would search for him along the coast. And so it proved. By good fortune they found him safe between the crags and the sea, from which rough place they pulled him up by means of a strong rope. As soon as he was on dry ground, he asked them about Queen Isolde.

‘Sir,' Gouvernail said, ‘the king agreed that it would be wrong to burn her. Instead he has consigned her to a house of lepers.'

‘A lady among lepers? She will not be left there for long.'

So he took his men and rescued her from the leper house. The poor lepers were so terrified of the knights that they willingly led them to the chamber in which she lay. The knights themselves took the precaution of sowing magic spells into their clothing to ward off the disease; each one of them also carried a crucifix as a sure defence. Tristram then took her to a fair manor house in a forest, where he lived with her in bliss. That manor house exists still, and is known as Isolde's Bower.

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.

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 Tristram'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.

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.

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?'