King Arthur's Knights
in rest they set their horses at a great gallop. They came together so
fiercely that they were both thrust backwards from their saddles and
fell to the earth, half stunned and greatly bruised.
Sir Lancelot recovered first and ran to help Beaumains to his feet, and
then, with their shields before them, they continued the combat with
swords. For an hour they strove fiercely, thrusting, striking and
parrying like two great boars in a forest clearing. Sir Lancelot was
astonished to feel how great was the young man's strength, how swift
were his thrusts, and how powerful were his blows. He recognised that
Beaumains was a dangerous fighter, and that he himself would have much
to do to overcome him.
'Beaumains,' he cried at length, 'fight not so hard, lad. Our quarrel,
if we have aught, is surely not so great that we cannot leave off.'
'That is truth!' said Beaumains, laughing, as he dropped the point of
his weapon. 'But, Sir Lancelot, it doth me good to feel your wondrous
skill and the strength of your arm. Yet, my lord, I have not shown the
uttermost of mine.'
'By my faith, I believe ye,' cried Sir Lancelot, 'for I should have
much ado to keep myself from shameful defeat if you should really push
me to the utmost. Therefore I say that you need not fear any earthly
knight.'
'I thank you for your good words,' replied Beaumains. 'And do you think
I may hope at any time to become a proved knight?'
'Fight as you have fought with me, and I have no doubt of you.'
'Then, I pray you, my lord,' said Beaumains, 'give me the order of
knighthood.'
'Ere I do that, you must tell me your name and of what kin you were
born,' replied Sir Lancelot.
'If you will promise to tell no one, I will reveal it.'
Sir Lancelot gave his promise, and Beaumains, going closer, whispered
some words into Sir Lancelot's ear.
'Ah, sir,' said Sir Lancelot, taking the young man's hand in his, 'I am
glad I was not deceived. I knew you must come of great kin, and that
you had not come to King Arthur for meat or drink. Kneel now, and I
will make you knight.'
So Beaumains knelt before Sir Lancelot, who lightly touched him on the
shoulder with his sword, naming him knight.
Thereupon they parted with many kind words, and Beaumains made haste to
overtake the damsel, who had long since disappeared.
As for Sir Kay, he was lifted upon Sir Lancelot's shield and taken back
to the court, and there slowly he recovered of his wound. Men laughed
him to scorn for the beating he had received from his own 'kitchen
boy.'
'Lo,' said some, 'the proud knight went forth to cuff his own scullion,
and the scullion beat him sore and took his weapons for spoil.'
When Beaumains reached the side of the damsel, she pulled up her horse
and turned upon him with flashing eyes and angry looks.
'What doest thou here?' she cried. 'Away from me--thou smellest of the
kitchen, knave! Pah! thy clothes are foul with grease and tallow! Dost
thou think to ride with me?'
'Lady,' said Beaumains, and he spoke full gently, 'my clothes may be
smirched, but my arm, I trust, is as strong to defend you as any that
is wrapped in silk.'
'Out upon thee, saucy churl!' she cried. 'Thinkest thou I should allow
for that knight whom you thrust from his horse but now? Nay, not a whit
do I, for thou didst strike him foully and like a coward! I know thee
well, for Sir Kay named you. Beaumains you are, dainty of hands and of
eating, like a spoilt page. Get thee gone, thou turner of spits and
washer of greasy dishes!'
But for all that she raved, Beaumains would not reply in angry words,
though his heart burned within him.
'Damsel,' said he courteously, 'ye may say what ye will to me, but I
will not go from you whatever you say. I have given my promise to King
Arthur that I will achieve this adventure for you, and that will I do
or die in the trial of it.'
The girl laughed mockingly.
'_You_ will finish my adventure--_you_ will come to our aid!' she cried
in scorn. 'Fie on thee, thou upstart kitchen page! But if you will not
go from me, then come, fool, and I shall see thee quickly shamed. Thou
art proud with the too good living thou hadst in Arthur's kitchen, but
one I know whose face thou wilt not dare to look into, my knight of the
kitchen!'
So saying, she pushed on her horse, and thus in silence they went on
together.
In a little while they came to a dark wood, and suddenly as they rode,
a man with white scared face started from behind a bush and ran to the
side of Beaumains.
'Go not that way, sir knight,' he said, 'for there be six knaves who
have taken my lord and bound him, and now they will surely take you and
your lady unless you go back. I barely escaped with my life, and hid
when I heard you, thinking you were of their thievish company.'
'Take me to them!' cried Beaumains, and the poor squire, holding the
knight's stirrup-leather, ran with him. And surely, in a little while,
three knaves rushed forth before them in the green drive and bade
Beaumains stand. But grimly he dashed at them, before ever they could
recover. Two he cut down with his good sword as they stood, and the
third, trying to escape, was run between the shoulders.
Then turning, Beaumains saw in a glade near the drive where three other
knaves stood beside a knight bound to a tree. They dashed towards
Beaumains with spiked clubs uplifted. But the squire rushed at one,
tripped him up and despatched him; and the others suddenly decided to
turn and flee. Their resolution came too late, however, for Beaumains
cut them down as they ran.
The knight was quickly released by his squire, and came up to his
rescuer, and thanked him heartily for his speedy help.
'Come with me,' he said, 'you and your lady, to my castle, which is but
a little way hence, and I will fittingly requite thee for the saving of
my life.'
'Nay,' said Beaumains, 'I will have no reward. All I do henceforth is
but my duty, and I will take naught in payment. Moreover, I must follow
this lady.'
The knight went to the lady, and begged that she would accept his
hospitality, for the twilight was deepening and they were yet far from
a town. The damsel consented, but, on reaching the castle of the
knight, she would not permit Beaumains to sit at the same table with
her.
'Take the knave hence!' she cried haughtily. 'He is but a scullion from
King Arthur's kitchen, and is not fit to sit with a lady of rank. He is
more suited, sir knight, to dine with your turnspits.'
'Lady, I do not understand your words,' said the knight, 'for this
gentleman hath proved himself a man of knightly courage and courtesy
this day.'
'As for that,' said the lady, 'I count it naught. He took the rascals
unawares, and they had no heart. They were but sorrier knaves than he
is.'
'Well,' said the knight, 'since you mislike him so, he shall sit with
me, and you shall sit alone.'
So it was done, and while the lady sat eating her meal in chilly
silence at one table, Beaumains and the knight, his host, laughed and
talked merrily over their dinner at another.
Next morning, early, Beaumains and the lady were up and away while yet
the dew shone on the leaves. Soon they passed through a great forest
and approached a wide river. In a little while they rode down to where
a roughly paved way ran into the water, and, looking to the other bank,
Beaumains was aware of two knights on horseback, stationed as if to
hinder his passing the ford.
'Now, sir kitchen knight,' laughed the lady mockingly, 'what sayest
thou? Art thou a match for these two knights, or wilt thou not turn
back?'
'I would not turn if they were six,' replied Beaumains quietly.
With that he rushed, with spear at rest, into the ford, and one of the
waiting knights came swiftly against him. They met in the midst with so
great a shock that their spears were splintered. They then closed
fiercely with their swords, and hurtled about in the foaming, dashing
water, beating at each other. Suddenly Beaumains struck the other so
hard a stroke on his helm that he was stunned, and fell from his horse
into the stream, which whirled him away into the deeps, and there
drowned him.
Then Beaumains rode swiftly towards the other knight, who with his
lance dashed against him. But Beaumains parried the spear stroke, and
with one great heave of his sword, clove the other's helm in twain, so
that the knight fell like a stone.
'Alas!' cried the lady, as she came across the ford, 'that ever kitchen
knave should have the mishap to slay two such noble knights! Doubtless
thou thinkest thou hast done mightily, sir knight of the turnspit, but
I saw well how it all happened. The first knight's horse stumbled on
the stones of the ford, and the other thou didst stab from behind.
'Twas a shameful deed!'
'Damsel,' said Beaumains, quiet in words though hot of mind at her
words, 'ye may say what ye will. I only know that I fight fairly, as
God gives me strength. I reck not what ye say, so I win your lady
sister from her oppressor.'
'Thou knave of impudence!' cried the lady. 'Thee to speak of winning my
lady sister, high of rank and rich in wide lands as she is! But thou
shalt soon see knights that shall abate thy pride.'
'Whatever knights they be, I care not, so that I win good words from
you at last,' said Beaumains.
'Those thou shalt never have, thou churl,' replied the lady scornfully.
'For all that thou hast done has been by chance and misadventure, and
not by the prowess of thy hands. But if thou wilt follow me, why, then,
come, and I shall the more quickly be rid of thee, for of a surety thou
wilt soon be slain.'
Beaumains answered naught, and so they went on their way.
Thus they fared until evensong, and then they came to a waste land,
where their way led through a narrow darkling valley. And at the head
thereof they entered upon a wide land, black and drear to the very
skies, and beside the way was a black hawthorn, and thereon hung a
black banner and a black shield, and by it, stuck upright, was a long
black spear, and beside it was a great black horse covered with silk,
and a black stone fast by it.
And upon the stone sat a knight in black armour, at sight of whom the
damsel cried:
'Now, my kitchen knight, 'tis not too late. Fly back through the
valley, or this knight will surely slay thee.'
'Nay, I will not,' said Beaumains, 'for I fear him not.'
The black knight came to the damsel and asked if she had brought this
knight from King Arthur's court to be her champion.
'Fie!' she said angrily, 'he is no knight. He is but a knave that was
fed for alms in the king's kitchen, and would follow me in spite of all
I say. And I would that you would rid me of him. To-day he slew two
noble knights at the passage of the water, and all by evil chance.'
'A strong knave, in truth,' answered the knight, 'and a saucy one. Then
this will I do. He shall leave me his horse and armour, for since he is
but a knave, my knightly hands may not harm him.'
'You speak lightly of my horse and armour,' said Beaumains, 'but I will
have you know that you get naught from me, and moreover I will pass
these lands with this lady in spite of you.'
'Thou knave!' cried the knight angrily, 'yield me this lady and thyself
without ado!'
'Let me see what thou canst do to take us,' replied Beaumains, and
laughed gaily.
At this the knight in a rage leaped upon his horse and they thundered
together. The black knight's spear broke, but Beaumains' lance pierced
him through the side and broke off short. Nevertheless, though badly
wounded, the black knight drew his sword and fought manfully, striking
Beaumains many mighty blows and bruising him sorely.
But suddenly his lifted sword fell from his hand, and turning in his