Arthurian Romances (43 page)

‘It is impossible for me to accept lodging at this hour,' replied our knight. ‘Only cowardice permits one to tarry or relax when he has undertaken such a task as I have; and I'm engaged in such a task that I'll not take lodging for a long while yet.'

Upon hearing this, the man replied: ‘My house is not at all nearby, but rather a long distance ahead. I promise that you will be able to lodge there at a suitable hour, for it will be late when you reach it.'

‘In that case I will go there,' said the stranger. The man who was their guide then set off before them, and the others followed after. When they had been riding for some time, they encountered a squire galloping full speed towards them on a nag that was as plump and round as an apple.

The squire called out to the man: ‘Sir, sir, come quickly! The men of Logres have raised an army against the people of this land and the skirmishes and fighting have already begun. They say that a knight who has fought in many places has invaded this land, and they cannot keep him from going wherever he wishes, whether they like it or not. All the people in this land say that he will soon free them and defeat our people. Now take my advice and hurry!'

The man quickened his pace to a gallop. The others, who had likewise heard this, were filled with joy and eager to help their countrymen.

‘Sir,' said the vavasour's son, ‘listen to what this servant has said! Let's go to the aid of our people who are fighting their enemies!'

Their guide hurried on without waiting for them and made his way to a daunting fortress that stood on a hill. He rode until he reached the entrance, with the others spurring after him. The bailey was surrounded by a high wall and moat. As soon as they had entered, a gate was lowered upon their heels so they could not get out again.

‘Let's go! Let's go!' they shouted. ‘Let's not stop here!'

They hastened after the man until they reached a passage that was not closed to them; but as soon as the man they were pursuing had gone through, a gate slammed shut behind him. They were most distressed to find themselves trapped within and thought they must be bewitched. But the knight about whom I have the most to say had a ring upon his finger whose stone had the power to break any spell, once he gazed upon it. He placed the ring before his eyes, looked at the stone, and said: ‘Lady, lady! By the grace of God I greatly need you to come now to my aid.'

This lady was a fairy who had given him the ring and had cared for him in his infancy, so he was certain that she would come to succour him wherever he might be. But he could see from his appeal and from the stone in the ring that no spell had been cast here; and he realized perfectly well that they were trapped and locked in.

They came now to the barred door of a low and narrow postern gate. All three drew their swords and struck so many blows that they hacked through the bar. Once out of the tower they saw the fierce battle raging in the meadows below, with fully a thousand knights at least on either side, not counting the mass of peasants. When they came down into the meadows,
the vavasour's son spoke with wise and measured words: ‘Sir, before entering the fray it would be best, I believe, if one of us went to learn which side is made up of our countrymen. I'm not sure which side they're on, but I'll go and ask if you want.'

‘I want you to go quickly,' he said, ‘and return just as quickly.'

He went quickly and returned quickly. ‘It has turned out well for us,' he said: ‘I've seen for certain that our men are on the near side.'

Then the knight rode straight into the mêlée. He jousted with a knight he encountered coming at him and landed such a blow in his eye that he struck him dead. The vavasour's younger son dismounted, took the dead knight's horse and armour, and clad himself properly and skilfully. When he was armed, he remounted at once and took up the shield and the long, straight, and colourfully painted lance; at his side he hung the sharp, bright, and shining sword. Into battle he followed his brother and their lord; he had been defending himself fiercely in the mêlée for some time – breaking, cleaving and splitting shields, helmets, and hauberks – neither wood nor iron was any defence for those he attacked as he knocked them, dead or wounded, from their horses. With unaided prowess he routed all he met, and those who had come with him did their share as well. The men of Logres marvelled at the deeds of this unknown knight and asked the vavasour's son about him.

They persisted in their questioning until they were told: ‘My lords, this is he who will lead us out of exile and free us from the great misery we have been in for so long. We owe him great honour because, to free us, he has already traversed many a treacherous pass and will cross many more to come. Though he has done much already, he has much yet to do.'

When the news had spread throughout the crowd, everyone was filled with joy; all heard, and all understood. From the elation they felt sprang the strength that enabled them to slay many of their enemies. Yet it seems to me that the enemy was defeated more by the efforts of a single knight than by those of all the others combined. Were it not already so near nightfall the enemy would have been fully routed; but the night grew so dark that the armies were obliged to separate.

As the armies separated, all the prisoners from Logres pressed excitedly about the knight, grabbing his reins from every side and saying: ‘Good sir, you are welcome indeed!' And they all added: ‘Sir, in faith, you'll be sure to take your lodging with me!' ‘Sir, by God and His Holy Name, don't stay anywhere but with me!' What one said, they all said, because young and old alike wanted him to stay with them.

‘You will be better provided for at my house than anywhere else,' each one insisted. Crowding round about him they were all saying this and trying to pull him away from the others, because each wanted to host him; they nearly came to blows.

He told them all that it was foolish to quarrel so. ‘Stop this bickering,' he said, ‘for it won't help me or you. Rather than quarrel among ourselves, we should aid one another. You should not argue over who will lodge me, but should be intent upon lodging me somewhere that will bring honour to everyone and will help me along my way.'

Yet each kept repeating: ‘At my house!'

‘No, at mine!'

‘You're still talking foolishly,' said the knight. ‘In my opinion the wisest of you is a fool for arguing this way. You should be helping me along, but all you want to do is turn me aside. By all the saints invoked in Rome, I'm as grateful now for your good intentions as I would have been if all of you, one after another, had provided me as much honour and service as one can give a man. As surely as God gives me health and happiness, your good intentions please me as much as if each of you had already shown me great honour and kindness. So let the intentions be reckoned equal to the deed!'

In this manner he persuaded and appeased them all. They brought him to a very well-to-do knight's house that was situated on the road he was to take, and everyone took pains to serve him. They all honoured and served him and showed how happy they were in his presence; because of this great respect for him, they entertained him until bedtime. In the morning, when it was time to depart, everyone wanted to accompany him and all offered him their services. But it was not his wish or intention to have anyone accompany him except the two he had brought there with him. He took these two and no others.

They rode that day from early morning until dusk without encountering adventure. Late in the evening as they were riding rapidly out of a forest, they saw the manor house of a knight. His wife, who seemed a gentle lady, was seated in the doorway. As soon as she caught sight of them, she rose up to meet them. With a broad and happy smile she greeted them: ‘Welcome! I want you to accept lodgings in my house. Dismount, for you have found a place to stay.'

‘My lady, since you command it, by your leave we'll dismount and stay this night at your house.'

When they had dismounted, the lady had their horses cared for by the members of her fine household. She called her sons and daughters, who
came at once: courteous and handsome boys, and knights, and comely daughters. Some she asked to unsaddle and groom the horses, which they willingly did without a word of protest. At her request the girls hastened to help the knights remove their armour; when they were disarmed, they were each given a short mantle to wear. Then they were led directly into the magnificent house. The lord of the manor was not there, for he was out in the woods hunting with two of his sons. But he soon returned, and his household, showing proper manners, hastened to welcome him at the gate. They untied and unloaded the venison he was carrying and said as they reached him: ‘Sir, you don't know it yet, but you are host to three knights.'

‘May God be praised!' he replied.

The knight and his two sons were delighted to have this company, and even the least member of the household did his best to do what had to be done. Some hastened to prepare the meal, others to light the tapers; still others fetched the towels and basins and brought generous amounts of water for washing their hands. They all washed and took their places. Therein, nothing could be found that was unpleasant or objectionable.

While they were partaking of the first course, there appeared before them at the outside door a knight who was prouder than the proudest bull. He was armed from head to toe and sat upon his charger, with one foot fixed in the stirrup but the other, in a jaunty style, thrown over his steed's flowing mane.

No one noticed him until he was right in front of them and said: ‘I want to know which one of you was so proud and foolish and so empty-headed as to come into this land, believing he can cross the Sword Bridge? He is wasting his strength; he is wasting his steps.'

Unruffled, our knight answered with great assurance: ‘I am he who wishes to cross the Sword Bridge.'

‘You! You? Whatever gave you that idea? Before undertaking such a thing you should have thought of how you might end up; and you should have recalled the cart you climbed into. I don't know whether you feel ashamed for having ridden in it, but no one with good sense would have undertaken such a great task having first been shamed in this manner.'

To these insults our knight did not deign to reply a single word; but the lord of the manor and all those with him rightly were astounded beyond measure at this.

‘Oh God! What a misfortune!' thought each to himself. ‘Damned be the hour when a cart was first conceived and constructed, for it is a vile and
despicable thing. Oh God! What was he accused of? Why was he driven in the cart? For what sin? For what crime? It will always be held against him. Were he innocent of this reproach, no knight in all the world could match him in boldness; and if all the world's knights were assembled in a single place, you'd not see a fairer or nobler one, if the truth be told.' On this matter, everyone spoke with one voice.

The intruder continued his haughty words, saying: ‘Knight, hear this, you who are going to the Sword Bridge: if you wish, you can cross over the water quite safely and easily. I'll have you taken swiftly across in a boat. However, if I decide to exact the toll once I have you on the other side, then I'll have your head if I want it; or, if not, it will be at my mercy.'

Our knight answered that he was not seeking trouble: he would never risk his head in this manner, no matter what the consequences. Whereupon the intruder continued: ‘Since you refuse my aid, you must come outside here to face me in single combat, which will be to the shame and grief of one of us.'

‘If I could refuse, I'd gladly pass it up,' said our knight to taunt him, ‘but indeed, I'd rather fight than have something worse befall me.'

Before rising from where he was seated at table, he told the youths who were serving him to saddle his horse quickly and to fetch his armour and bring it to him. They hurried to do as he commanded. Some took pains to arm him; others brought forward his horse. And you can rest assured that, as he was riding off fully armed upon his horse and holding his shield by the arm-straps, he could only be counted among the fair and the good. The horse suited him so well that it seemed it could only be his own – as did the shield strapped to his arm. The helmet he had laced upon his head fitted him so perfectly that you'd never have imagined it was borrowed or on loan; rather you'd have said – so pleasing was the sight of him – that he had been born and bred for it. I trust you will believe my description of all this.

Beyond the gate, on a heath where the battle was to be held, the challenger waited. As soon as the one saw the other, they spurred full speed to the attack and met with a clash, striking such mighty thrusts with their lances that they bent like bows before flying into splinters. With their swords they dented their shields, helmets, and hauberks; they split the wood and broke the chain-mail, and each was wounded several times. Every blow was repaid by another, as if in their fury they were settling a debt. Their sword blows often struck through to their horses' cruppers: they were so drunk in their blood-thirst that their strokes even fell on the horses' flanks, and both were slain. When their steeds had fallen, they pursued one another
on foot. In truth they could not have struck more mightily with their swords had they hated one another with a mortal passion. Their payments fell more swiftly than the coins of the gambler who doubles the wager with each toss of the dice. But this game was quite different: there were no dice cast, only blows and fearful strokes, vicious and savage.

Everyone – the lord, his lady, their daughters and sons – had come forth from the house and assembled to watch the battle on the broad heath. When he saw his host there watching him, the Knight of the Cart blamed himself for faintheartedness; then, as he saw the others assembled there observing him, his whole body shook with anger, for he was convinced he should have defeated his adversary long since. With his sword he struck him a blow near the head, then stormed him, pushing him relentlessly backwards until he had driven him from his position. He forced him to give ground and pursued him until the intruder had almost lost his breath and was nearly defenceless.