King Arthur's Knights
two kings, and in Ireland three kings, but all gave service to the
great King Arthur.
That part of Cornwall which was called the lands of Tintagel formed the
kingdom of a prince named Mark, and he owed certain yearly tribute or
truage to King Anguish of South Ireland. It befell one day that King
Anguish sent a messenger, who came to King Mark as he sat in hall, and
said:
'Sir king, my master bids me say that the truage which you owe unto him
is unpaid for seven years past, and if it be not paid he will demand of
you double the sum.'
Now King Mark was a man of a mean and covetous mind, and he loved not
to give money. Therefore, to put off the payment for a little while, he
made answer thus:
'Tell your master that we will pay him no truage; and if your lord says
he will have it, let him send a trusty knight of his land that will
fight for his right, and we will find another to do battle with him.'
When King Anguish heard the message he was wondrous wroth, and called
into him the brother of his queen, Sir Marhaus, a good knight of
prowess nobly proved, and, besides, a knight of the Round Table. The
king craved of him to go and do battle for the truage due from Mark of
Cornwall.
'Sir,' said Sir Marhaus, 'I will gladly go and do battle for you on
this saucy king or his knight. I ween ye shall have your truage to the
last groat, for I fear not the best knight of the Round Table, unless
it be Sir Lancelot, and I doubt not King Mark hath no knight of such
worth and prowess as I.'
So in all haste Sir Marhaus set forth in a ship, and in a little while
cast anchor fast by the shore where, on two high cliffs, the castle of
Tintagel frowned upon the sea. When King Mark understood that so noble
a knight as Sir Marhaus had come to do battle for the truage, he was
full of sorrow, and wept as he looked upon the bags of gold in his
treasure-chest. He knew of no knight of his court that durst face Sir
Marhaus, and he feared much that he would have to part with his gold.
Daily Sir Marhaus sent a message up to the castle gate, demanding
payment of the truage, or that a knight should come forth to do battle
against him.
Then King Mark let make a proclamation through all the lands, that if a
knight would fight to save the truage of Cornwall he should fare the
better as long as he lived. But the days and weeks went by and no
knight came forward. Then Sir Marhaus sent at the last a message which
said, that if within a day and a night a champion for King Mark came
not forward, he should depart.
All that day King Mark was sore and ill of mind and haggard of face,
and could never stay still, but was for ever faring with his barons to
where he could look down upon the ship of Sir Marhaus, and see the
knight waiting in his armour.
Late in the afternoon, as the king stood thus, gnawing his nails for
rage, and so hot and wrathful that none of his barons dare speak to
him, there came two horsemen riding swiftly into the courtyard of the
castle, and at the sound of their horses' feet King Mark turned
eagerly.
A young squire was the foremost rider, and he was a youth full handsome
and tall, with brown curly hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in a
surcoat of red satin and a mantle of crimson, trimmed with gold; and on
his head was a cap of rich purple, and his feet and legs were clad in
fine leather, with gold bosses on his shoes. Alighting easily, he
doffed his hat and came towards the king:
'Sir,' said he, 'if ye will give me the order of knighthood, I shall do
battle to the uttermost with Sir Marhaus of Ireland.'
King Mark looked the young man up and down, and saw that though he was
young of age, yet he was passing well made of body, with broad
shoulders and of big limbs. The heart of King Mark became light.
'Fair son,' he said, and his barons marvelled at his soft words, 'what
are ye and whence come ye?'
'Sir,' said the youth, 'I come from King Talloch, Prince of Lyones, and
I am a gentleman's son.'
'And your name and birthplace--what are they?'
'My name is Tristram, sir, and I was born in Lyones.'
'Young sir,' said the king, 'I like your manner, and I think ye should
be a good man of your hands. Therefore will I make you knight if ye
will fight with Sir Marhaus.'
'That is why I have come,' said Tristram.
Eagerly the king bade a baron give him his sword, and commanded
Tristram to kneel, and then and there he tapped his shoulder with the
flat of the sword and bade him rise, 'Sir Tristram of Lyones.'
The king commanded his scrivener to come to him, and on the low wall
overlooking the sea the man of inkhorn and goosequill laid his
parchment, and wrote a letter to Sir Marhaus at the king's dictation,
saying that a knight would battle with him in the morning. A messenger
was sent therewith without delay, and the king went into supper,
snapping his fingers and joking with his barons in great glee.
But in the midst of supper a parchment was brought to the king and his
face fell, and he commanded the new-made knight to come from his seat
and stand before him.
'Hark ye,' he said, his face dark, 'this prideful Sir Marhaus, waiting
so long, hath made his terms the harder. I fear, good fellow, your
knighthood hath been earned of me too easily, even if ye are not in
league with this pesky Irish knight,' he went on, his narrow eyes
gleaming with suspicion. 'He sayeth now that he will not fight with any
knight unless he be of blood royal on his mother's side or father's.
Say, are ye some starveling knight's brat, or what are ye?'
Sir Tristram's face went hard and his eyes flashed.
'No starveling's brat am I, king,' he said, 'unless ye are that
thyself.'
'What mean you? Have a care of your saucy tongue.'
'I fear thee not,' laughed Sir Tristram, 'but this I would have you
know. I am thy nephew, son of thy sister Elizabeth, who died in the
forest, and of King Talloch of Lyones.'
At these words the king rose from his seat and embraced Sir Tristram,
crying:
'Now, in the name of Heaven, thou art right heartily welcome unto me,
dear nephew.'
That evening he made great cheer of Sir Tristram, and had his bed made
next to his own in his own royal chamber. On the morrow the king had
Sir Tristram horsed and armed in the best manner. Then he sent a
trumpeter down to the seashore, and let Sir Marhaus know that a better
born man than he was himself would fight with him, and that his name
was Sir Tristram of Lyones, son of the King of Lyones and his queen
Elizabeth, King Mark's sister. Sir Marhaus was right blithe that he
should have to do with such a gentleman.
Then it was ordained that the two knights should battle on a little
island near the ship of Sir Marhaus, and so young Sir Tristram and his
squire were rowed thereunto, and when he departed, King Mark and his
barons and all the common people were rejoiced to see the young
knight's noble and high bearing, and wished him Godspeed.
When Sir Tristram landed he saw Sir Marhaus waiting armed in the shadow
of his ship. Sir Tristram's squire brought his master's horse to land,
and clad his master in his armour as was right, and then the young
knight mounted upon his horse and rode towards Sir Marhaus.
While he was as yet six spear-lengths from him the knight of the Round
Table cried unto him:
'Young knight, Sir Tristram, what doest thou here? I grieve me of thy
courage, for ye are untried, while I have been well essayed in jousts
and tournaments with some of the best men of their hands as are now
living. I counsel thee to go back.'
'Fair and well-proved knight,' said Sir Tristram, 'I am for thy sake
made knight, and I have promised to fight thee, and I will do so, as
much for mine uncle's sake as for what worship I may win from doing
battle with ye, who are one of the best renowned knights of the world.'
'Then I would have ye know, fair sir,' said Sir Marhaus, 'that no
worship shalt thou lose if thou canst only stand against three strokes
of mine, for, by reason of my noble deeds, seen and proved, King Arthur
made me knight of the Round Table.'
Sir Tristram answered him naught, and then they dressed their spears
and spurred their horses, and ran so fiercely each against the other
that both were smitten to the ground, both horses and men. But Sir
Marhaus had struck a great wound in the side of Sir Tristram, yet so
eager was the young knight that he knew not of it. They leaped up and
avoided their horses, and drew out their swords, and with shield on arm
they lashed at each other like fierce wild boars. Yet for all Sir
Marhaus' strong and bitter strokes he could not beat down the young
knight's guard, and in despite he began to aim at his vizor and his
neck. At this Sir Tristram was wroth, and struck him more furiously.
Thus for two hours the battle waged, and both were sore wounded. But
Sir Tristram was the fresher and better winded and bigger of limb and
reach; and suddenly he heaved his sword up high, and closing upon Sir
Marhaus he smote him with so mighty a buffet upon his helm that the
blade shore through the steel even into the brain-pan.
So fierce had been the stroke that the sword stuck fast in the bone and
the helmet, and Sir Tristram pulled thrice at his sword before it would
loosen. Sir Marhaus sank to his knees with a deathly groan; then he
threw away his sword and shield, and rising, staggered away towards his
ship. Sir Tristram swooned and fell; and his squire came running to
him, just as the men of Sir Marhaus' ship came and drew their master on
board. Then they swiftly set their sail and flew over the sea.
Great was the mourning of the barons and the people of Cornwall when it
was known how deep and wide was the wound which Tristram had received
from the lance of Sir Marhaus. Many famous leeches came and searched
the wound and strove to close it, but none availed. When two months had
passed, came an old, old woman, a witch wise in leechcraft beyond all
others, who was called the Mother of the Mists, and who lived in the
Great Shuddering Moor, where only trolls dwelled, and no man ever dared
to go. She also came and searched his wound at the king's desire.
When she had made her search, with many mumblings and strange words,
she turned and looked keenly at the king. Her eyes gleamed like beads,
her skin was wrinkled and dark, and she laughed a little soft laugh.
'Lord king,' she said, 'this fine man's wound is poisoned, and naught
can heal it this side the great water. But if he goeth whither the
spear came from which poisoned it, he shall get whole of that wound.'
''Tis well,' said the king, 'he shall be sent to Ireland.'
'Ay, ay, ay,' said the old woman, and laughed in Sir Tristram's face.
'Thou shalt be healed, fair chief, but the hand that shall heal thee
shall give thee a deeper wound--a wound that shall never be healed this
side o' thy grave.'
Forthwith King Mark let a fair ship be purveyed and well stored with
necessary victuals, and Sir Tristram was carried thereto and laid on
his couch on the deck, and Governale, his faithful squire, went with
him. In the sunshine and the brisk wind Sir Tristram felt joyful, and
the merry waves slapped the sides of the ship full prettily as it
cleaved through the blue seas towards the west.
In the evening they saw the white cliffs and the brown rocks of
Ireland, and Sir Tristram took his harp and played thereon, for he had
learned to harp most featly in France, where he had lived seven years,
to learn all manner of courtly and noble pastimes. Soon the shipmen
cast anchor in a wide sheltered cove beneath a castle which stood on a
high rock beside a fair town.
Sir Tristram asked the master of the ship the name of that town.
'Cro-na-Shee, if it please you, my lord,' said the master.