The Death of King Arthur (32 page)

Sir Bors went over to the king. ‘Did you hear him, sir?'

‘I did. Who is he?'

‘I have no knowledge of him,' he replied. ‘But he claims this battle by right. I cannot refuse him.'

The king called over the unknown knight. ‘You will fight for the queen?'

‘That is why I have come, my lord. And I can wait no longer. It is a great dishonour to you and your court that so noble a lady as Queen Guinevere should be slandered and defamed. You must permit me to depart once the contest is over. I must fight many more battles elsewhere.'

Sir Mador addressed the king. ‘It is time to begin, sir. I wish to see what mettle this knight is made of.'

So they withdrew to the lists, couched their spears and rode against each other at great speed. The spear of Sir Mador was broken, but that of his opponent held; Mador was unhorsed and fell to the earth. He took up his shield, and drew his sword, challenging his opponent to join him in hand-to-hand battle. The knight dismounted, and showed his sword. They clashed at once, and for an hour they exchanged blow for blow. They fought, and bellowed, like wild boars. Sir Mador was a strong knight, proven in many battles. But he fell in the end, buffeted and beaten beyond endurance. He tried to rise, and struck at his challenger's thigh with his sword. The blood flowed, but then the unknown knight gave him such a blow on his helmet that he tasted the dust. Sir Mador then begged for mercy. ‘I have been overcome,' he said. ‘I realize that the queen is innocent.'

‘I will grant your life,' the knight replied, ‘on condition that you freely release the queen for ever from the taint of treason.'

‘Willingly,' Sir Mador said. ‘I withdraw all charges.'

The knights of the court took Sir Mador to his tent, while the king and queen embraced one another. Arthur and Guinevere went over to the unknown knight, and thanked him. ‘Take off your helmet, sir,' the king told him. ‘Drink some wine.' The knight complied and, when he removed his helmet, everyone saw that it was Lancelot standing before them. Arthur took Guinevere by the hand. ‘Sir Lancelot, I thank God that you came back to us. You have saved my queen's life.'

‘My lord,' Lancelot replied, ‘I am here by right and duty. Your battles are my battles. You, sir, were the one who gave me the Order of Knighthood. And you, my lady, have always honoured and favoured me. How could I do otherwise than fight on your behalf?'

‘I thank God again for you,' the king said. ‘And I will reward you.'

Guinevere was now weeping for joy and for sorrow. She had treated him harshly but, in return, he had risked his life for her. He had paid unkindness with kindness. The other knights now came over to Lancelot and welcomed him with great warmth and affection. Sir Mador recovered from his wounds, and sat once more at the Round Table with Lancelot.

It so happened that the Lady of the Lake came to court soon afterwards. She was a great sorceress who had cast many spells for King Arthur. When she heard that the queen had been accused of killing Sir Patrise, she declared Guinevere to be innocent. By means of her magic she revealed that the killer was in fact Sir Pionell. He was the one who had poisoned the apple, with the intention of destroying Sir Gawain. Pionell fled the court at once, and retired to his own country. Guinevere rejoiced at the return of her good name.

Sir Patrise was then buried in Westminster Abbey, and upon his tomb was inscribed an account of the whole affair. Sir Mador eventually found favour with the queen once more. All was forgiven.

The Fair Maid of Astolat

In the middle of summer, on the feast day of the Assumption of Our Lady, Arthur proclaimed that there would be a tournament at Camelot where he and the King of Scotland would challenge all comers. As a result, many noble knights rode to the court. The king himself was ready to depart from London for Winchester, the English name of Camelot, and called for his wife to accompany him. She sent him word that she was sick, and could not ride with him.

Many in the court believed that she remained behind so that she could be with Lancelot. He had already refused the challenge, on the grounds that he was still recovering from his wounds after the battle with Sir Mador. The king himself was very angry, but he travelled on with his company of knights. On his way he lodged at Astolat, known in English as Guildford, in the castle of Sir Bernard.

After he had left, Guinevere called Lancelot to her chamber. ‘Sir,' she said, ‘what are you doing here? Do you know what people are saying? They are convinced that we have planned this so that we can be together. You will bring shame upon me.'

‘Madam, I do not doubt you. You are wiser than me, and I will be ruled by your words. I will remain here tonight, but tomorrow I will make my way to Camelot. For the sport of it, I will fight in disguise against the king and all his fellowship.'

‘That is your decision,' she replied, ‘but do not forget that the knights of the Round Table are fierce and resolute.'

‘What will be, will be.'

On the following morning he heard mass, and then took his leave of the queen. He rode hard and soon reached Guildford, where he also found lodgings at the castle. Arthur glimpsed Lancelot as he walked in the gardens there. ‘Ah,' the king said, ‘I see a knight who will take part in the tournament.'

‘Who is that?' one of his knights asked him.

‘You will soon see well enough.' The king smiled at him. ‘Be prepared.'

When Sir Lancelot was alone in his chamber, his host, Sir Bernard, came to him. He did not know Lancelot by sight. After Bernard had welcomed him, Lancelot asked for a favour. ‘Fair sir,' he said, ‘will you lend me a shield? I do not wish to carry my own. I hope to remain unknown.'

‘Willingly,' Sir Bernard replied. ‘You seem to me to be one of the best knights in the field, and I will honour your friendship. I have two sons, and the eldest of them was just dubbed a knight. His name is Sir Tirry and, on the day he was knighted, he suffered a wound that prevents him from taking part in the tournament. You can use his shield. It will not be recognized. My younger son is Sir Lavane. Will you allow him to ride with you to the joust? He is young and strong. He will prove to be a good knight. But tell me this, sir. What is your name?'

‘I cannot tell you at this time. But if God give me strength at the tournament, then I will let you know. In the meantime I am happy to take Sir Lavane with me. Thank you, also, for the loan of the shield.'

Sir Bernard's daughter, Elaine, known at that time as the Fair Maid of Astolat, had been listening at the door. As soon as she saw Lancelot, she fell in love with him. She was so enamoured of him that she begged him to wear her token when he rode out to the tournament.

‘If I grant you that, young lady,' he said, ‘I will be performing a greater service than I have ever given to any other woman.' Then he remembered that he wished to ride unrecognized. If he wore this girl's token, no one would suspect that he was Lancelot. So he smiled upon her. ‘Fair lady, I give in. I will wear your token on my helmet. What is it?'

‘It is a red scarf of mine,' she said. ‘It is scarlet, and it is embroidered with rich pearls.' She brought it to him, and spent the whole day in serving him. She could not be long out of his sight.

On the following morning Arthur and all his knights left Astolat. Sir Lancelot and Sir Lavane were among them. Both of them carried white shields, and Lancelot wore the scarlet token. They made their way to Winchester, where Sir Lavane made sure that they were lodged in secret with a rich merchant of the town. Lancelot did not wish to be seen.

The day of the joust soon came. Sir Lancelot was foremost in the fight, but he was wounded so badly that it took all of his strength to continue. The spear of Sir Bors had gone through his shield and entered his side. He would not surrender, however, and soon overcame his opponents. ‘God have mercy on us,' Gawain said to the king. ‘Who is that knight with the red scarf? I would say from his bearing that this is Lancelot. But he would never wear another woman's token.'

‘Sir,' Arthur replied, ‘I am sure that he will become known to you before we leave this place.' The king blew the horn to signal the end of the tournament, and the heralds proclaimed that the victor was the knight with the red scarf. The King of North Wales came up to him. ‘Fair knight, God bless you. You have worked wonders today. Come with us now, so that we can properly honour you.'

‘Lord king,' Lancelot replied, ‘if I have won the victory, I have been badly wounded in the fight for it. I must find someone who can heal me. So, fair lords, allow me to leave you. I do not need honour. I need my life.' He rode off, groaning all the while, until he came to the wood where he had arranged to meet Sir Lavane. ‘Sir Lavane!' he cried out. ‘Sir Lavane! Help me to take this spear from my side.'

‘Sir,' he replied, ‘I will do whatever you wish. But this might kill you.'

‘If you love me, draw it out.'

Lavane did so, and as the spear came out Lancelot gave a great shriek. The blood burst from the wound, and Lancelot lay on the ground groaning. For a while he fainted with the pain. ‘What shall I do?' Lavane cried aloud. He turned Lancelot's head into the cool breeze, and then waited for any sign of recovery. Eventually Lancelot opened his eyes. ‘Help me on to my horse,' he whispered. ‘Within a mile or two there lives a hermit who is a good healer. He was once a knight, Sir Baudwin of Britain by name, but he left his worldly possessions for the sake of God. He is my cousin. He is the one man who may be able to assist me.'

Sir Lavane helped Lancelot on to his horse, and they rode on together; all the while Lancelot's blood ran down the flanks of his horse on to the earth. The hermitage was within a wood, close beside a steep cliff and a stream. Lavane beat on the door with the butt of his spear. ‘Let us in, for God's sake.' A young boy came to the door and asked them what they wanted. ‘Fair son,' Lavane replied, ‘go to your lord, the hermit, and tell him that there is a knight here who is badly wounded and who needs his help. Tell him this also. The knight has done more valiant deeds today than anyone before.'

The hermit, a handsome and stalwart man, heard his words and came out. ‘What knight is he?' he asked. ‘Is he from the court of King Arthur?'

‘I do not know his name, sir. Or from what court he comes. But today he has performed marvellous feats of arms.'

‘For whose sake did he fight?'

‘I know only that he fought against the knights of King Arthur.'

‘There was a time,' Sir Baudwin said, ‘when I would have thought the worse of him for that. I was once of their fellowship. Still, those times are long gone. I thank God that I am now otherwise disposed. Where is he? Let me see him.'

Lavane brought the hermit to Lancelot. The knight was leaning over his saddle, bleeding and in pain. The hermit thought for a moment that he recognized him, but the knight was so pale and drawn that he could not tell. ‘What knight are you?' the hermit asked him. ‘Where were you born?'

‘My fair lord,' Lancelot replied, ‘I am a stranger to this realm. I have ridden through many countries to win honour.'

Sir Baudwin noticed a scar on his cheek, and knew at once who it was. ‘Oh, my lord,' he said, ‘why did you try to hide your name from me? I know you very well. You are Lancelot, the noblest knight in the world.'

‘Since you know me,' Lancelot replied, ‘then help me. I do not care if I live or die, as long as I can be free of pain.'

‘You will live. No doubt about it.' Sir Baudwin called two of his servants, and they took Lancelot into the hermitage; he was laid gently upon a bed, and was given some wine to drink. In those days hermits were nobly born, and were able to dispense food and drink to those who came to them.

The king and his court were feasting together, after the great tournament, and Arthur asked about the knight who wore the red scarf on his helmet. ‘Bring him before us,' he said. ‘We should praise and reward him for his valour.'

‘He is badly wounded,' the King of North Wales told him. ‘He is not likely to live.'

‘Is he so badly hurt? Does anyone know his name?'

‘No one, sire. We do not know from where he came or where he has gone to.'

The king was troubled by this. ‘If he were to die, it would be the greatest sorrow I have suffered. He is such a noble knight.'

‘Do you know anything about him?' the King of North Wales asked.

‘I believe that I know something. I will tell you more when I have received some word of him.'

Sir Gawain stood up. ‘In the name of Jesus, I will go in search of him. We cannot let the noble knight lie wounded in this realm. It would be a grave dishonour to us all.'

‘Well said, Sir Gawain,' the king replied. ‘I hope that your search is successful, and that you find the knight alive.'

Gawain called for his squire, and together they rode in the woods and forests some six or seven miles from the court. But they found no trace of Lancelot. Two days later the court removed from Camelot and slowly returned to London. Gawain himself was lodged at Astolat on the way back, in the same chamber that Lancelot had used. He was resting there when the lord of the castle, Sir Bernard, came in to greet him. He had with him his daughter, Elaine, the Fair Maid of Astolat. ‘Tell me,' Sir Bernard asked him, ‘who did best at the tournament? Who was the victor?'

‘There was only one champion that day,' Gawain told him. ‘I do not know his name, but he bore a white shield and on his helmet he wore a red scarf. He beat down forty knights of the Round Table.'