King Arthur's Knights
upon us!' cried the barons. 'We will have none of him!'
'A shame and dishonour it is, so to try to overrule us, kings and lords
of high lineage, with an unknown youth,' cried others.
'We will have the sword put back and set a watch over it,' cried King
Uriens, 'and we will meet here again at Candlemas, and essay the sword.
And at that time, my lord archbishop, thou shalt do the proper rites to
exorcise all evil powers, and then we will try the sword once more.'
So was it agreed by all, and ten knights watched day and night about
the stone and the sword.
But it befell at Candlemas as it had befallen at Twelfth Day, that for
all their strength and might, none of the kings or barons could draw
forth the sword; but into the hand of the unknown Arthur the weapon
seemed to fall.
Whereat they were all sore aggrieved and rageful, and resolved that
they would have yet another trial at Easter. It befell at the feast of
Easter as it had befallen before, and this time the kings and lords for
angry spite would have fallen upon Arthur and slain him, but the
archbishop threatened them with the most dreadful ban of Holy Church.
They forbore, therefore, and went aside, and declared that it was their
will to essay the sword again at the high feast of Pentecost.
By Merlin's advice the young Arthur went never about, unless the five
friends of Uther were with him, that is to say, Sir Ector and his son
Sir Kay, Sir Bedevere, Sir Baudwin and Sir Ulfius. And though at divers
times men were found skulking or hiding in the horse-stall, the dark
wood by the hall, or the bend in the lane, in places where Arthur might
pass, no harm came to him by reason of the loving watch of those noble
knights.
Again at the feast of Pentecost men gathered in the churchyard of St.
Paul's, and the press of people was such that no man had ever seen the
like. Once more the kings and princes and great barons, to the number
of forty-nine, came forward, and each in turn pulled and drew at the
sword in the stone until the sweat stood on their brows. Nevertheless,
though the sword point was but the width of a palm in the stone, not
the mightiest of them could move it by the breadth of a hair.
King Mark of Tintagel was the last of them who had to stand back at
length, baffled and raging inwardly. Many were the evil looks that
would have slain Arthur as he stood among his friends.
Then a cry came from among the common people, and so strong was it that
the nobles looked as if they hated to hear it.
'Let Arthur draw the sword!' was the call from a thousand throats.
The venerable archbishop came and took Arthur by the hand, and led him
towards the sword. Again the young man held the rich pommel with his
single hand, and that which none of the forty-nine great men could do,
he did as easily as if he but plucked a flower.
A fierce cry leaped from among the thousands of the common people.
'Arthur shall be our King!' they cried. 'Arthur is our King! We will no
longer deny him!'
Many of the princes and barons cried out with the commons that this was
their will also; but eleven of the most powerful and ambitious showed
by their arrogant and angry gestures that they refused to own Arthur as
their lord.
For a long time the uproar raged, the cries of the common folk becoming
fiercer and more menacing against the counter cries of the eleven kings
and their adherents.
At length from among the people there came the governor of London, who,
in his rich robes of office, leaped upon the stone where but lately the
sword had been.
'My lords, I speak the will of the commons,' he cried, and at his voice
all were silent. 'We have taken counsel together, and we will have
Arthur for our King. We will put him no more in delay, for we all see
that it is God's will that he shall be our King, and who that holdeth
against him, we will slay.'
With that he got down from the stone, kneeled before Arthur, put the
keys of the city in his hands, and rendered homage unto him. The great
multitude kneeled likewise, bowing their bare heads, and cried him
mercy because they had denied him so long.
Because they feared the great multitude, the eleven kings kneeled with
them, but in their hearts was rage and rebellion.
Then Arthur took the sword between his hands and, going into the
church, he laid it on the high altar, and the archbishop blessed him.
Then, since Arthur was as yet unknighted, King Kador of Cornwall, who
was brother of King Uther, made him a knight.
Standing up in the sight of all the people, lords and commons, Arthur
laid his left hand upon the holy relics; then, lifting up his right
hand, he swore that he would be a true king, to stand forth as their
ruler in justice and mercy, to keep them from oppression, to redress
their wrongs, and to establish right throughout the length and breadth
of his dominions.
Men went forth from the church in great joy, for now they had a king
they loved, and they felt that the land was safe from civil strife and
the griefs of war.
When Arthur in his palace at London had received the homage of all the
lords and princes from the lands south of Humber, he appointed his
officers. Sir Kay he made seneschal or steward, and Sir Baudwin was
made constable, and Sir Ulfius he named chamberlain of his court. By
the counsel of Merlin he made Sir Bedevere Warden of the Northern
Marches, for the lands of the eleven kings lay mostly in the country
north of Trent, and though those princes had yielded lip service to
Arthur, Merlin knew that in their hearts they nurtured the seeds of
conspiracy.
King Arthur made a progress through all his territories, staying at the
halls of those who did service for the lands they held of him, and he
commanded all those who had suffered evil or wrong to come to him, and
many came. The king's wrath when he heard a tale of women and orphans
wronged or robbed or evilly treated by proud or powerful lords and
knights, was terrible to see. Many were the pale captives he released
from their deep dungeons, many were the tears he wiped away, and hard
and heavy was his punishment of evil lords who thought their power
would for ever shield them from penalty for their cruelties and
oppression.
When this was done, he caused a proclamation to be uttered, that he
would hold his coronation at the city of Caerleon-upon-Usk, at the
feast of Hallow-mass then following; and he commanded all his loyal
subjects to attend. When the time came, all the countryside on the
marches of Wales was filled with the trains of noblemen and their
knights and servants gathering towards the city.
As Arthur looked from the window of the palace which the Romans had
builded, and which looked far and wide over the crowded roads, word was
brought to him that six of the kings who had resented his kingship had
come to the city. At this Arthur was glad, for he was full gentle and
kindly, and would liefer be friendly with a man than his enemy.
Thinking that these kings and knights had come for love of him, and to
do him worship at his feast, King Arthur sent them many and rich
presents. But his messengers returned, saying that the kings and
knights had received them with insults, and had refused to take the
gifts of a beardless boy who had come, they said, of low blood.
Whereat the king's eyes flashed grimly, but at that time he said no
word.
In the joustings and knightly games that were part of the festival of
the coronation, the six kings ever ranged themselves against King
Arthur and his knights, and did him all the despite they could achieve.
At that time they deemed themselves not strong enough to hurt the king,
and therefore did no open act of revolt.
Now it happened, when the feasting was over and many of the kings and
lords had departed home again, that Arthur stood in the door of his
hall that looked into the street, and with his three best nobles, Sir
Kay, Sir Bedevere and Sir Baudwin, he watched the rich cavalcades of
his lords pass out of the town. Suddenly, as he stood there, a little
page-boy, fair of face but for the pitiful sorrow and gauntness upon
it, dashed from the throng of a lord's retinue which was passing and
threw himself along the ground, his hands clutching the feet of the
king.
'O King Arthur, save me!' the lad cried, spent of breath, 'or this evil
lord will slay me as he hath slain my mother and my brothers.'
From the throng a tall black knight, leaping from his horse, strode
towards the boy, and would have torn his hands from their hold upon the
king's feet.
'Back, sir knight!' said the king. 'I will hear more of this. Who are
you?'
The knight laughed insolently.
'I? Oh, I am one that the last king knew well to his sorrow. I am
Turquine, brother to Sir Caradoc of the Dolorous Tower.'
'What is this boy to you?'
'He is Owen, the caitiff son of a brave father, who gave him to my care
to train in knightly ways. But 'tis a puling fool, more fitting for the
bowers of ladies.'
'Nay, king, he lies!' said the lad who kneeled before the king. 'I am
his nephew. His hand slew my dear father treacherously, and he hath
starved my mother to her death. For our lands are rich while his are
poor, and my father warned me of him ere he died. This man hath kept me
prisoner, used me evilly, starving me and wealing me with cruel blows
daily. I think he hath my death in his heart.'
'I can speak of this thing,' said a knight, who came forth from the
throng. 'I am Sir Miles of Bandon. I know this lad speaks truth, for
his father was mine own dear cousin. This Sir Turquine is a felon
knight.'
The brow of the king went dark. He looked from the cruel insolent face
of the black knight to the wan beseeching face of the lad.
'Hark ye!' said Arthur to Turquine, and his voice was terrible, for all
that it was very quiet, 'ye shall answer to me and my justice for any
evil you have done this young boy or his people. When I send for thee,
come at once, or it will be worse for thee. The boy stays with me. Now
begone!'
The big knight looked with hatred and surprise in his eyes, and for a
while said naught. Then, with an insolent laugh, he turned and vaulted
on his horse.
'I may come when thou dost not expect me, sir king!' he said, mocking,
and shot an evil look at the young page.
Thenceforward the young page Owen stayed in the court, doing his
services deftly and quietly, with an eye ever on the king to do his
bidding. One night, when a storm raged and the town lay dark and quiet,
King Arthur sat in his hall. Sir Kay and Sir Bedevere told tales, or
the king's bard sang songs to amuse him, while about them moved young
Owen, noiseless of step, quick of eye, and as restless as an unquiet
spirit.
Anon the lad would pass through the arras, creep to the great outer
door, and look at the porter in his room beside it. Then he would stand
at the wicket and listen to the rare footsteps pass down the road, and
when the rising wind keened and shrilled through the crannies, he would
glance about him with quick looks as if in fear of an enemy.
Once he went to Falk, the king's porter, and said:
''Tis a stormy night, Sir Falk. I doubt few are about the streets of
Caerleon on such a night.'
'Few indeed,' said Falk.
'Yet methought but now I heard the rattle of a bridle in the distance,
as if a steed stood in armour.'
'I heard naught,' said Falk. ''Twould be but the grinding of a chain
beside a horseblock.'
Young Owen went away, and sat where the king and his knights listened
to the marvellous tales of the wise Gildas, who told of most terrible
witches and warlocks in the wizard woods of Brittany.
Again the lad approached the door and listened; then going to the
porter he said:
'This drenching storm will tear the last poor leaves from the forest
trees, I ween, Sir Falk.'