King Arthur's Knights
'And where couldst thou find this paragon?' said the countess, flushing
a little at the reminder of her late lord's neglect.
'At the court of King Arthur,' replied Elined; 'for there are to be
found the peerless knights of the world, men of their knightly words,
and devoted to love and war.
'If it be that I must think of wedding again so soon,' sighed the
countess, 'go then to King Arthur, and find me such a knight. But let
him be gentle as well as brave, with fine and courtly manners--a man,
indeed, whom I can really love.'
Elined went and kissed the flushing cheek of her mistress.
'Trust me for that,' she said gently. 'I would do that as much for
myself as for thee, my dear Carol. For did it not often go to my heart
to see thee pine for gentle speech and affection, and sorrow at the
harsh words thou didst suffer? I will set forth at once to Caerleon,
and him that I bring shall be worthy of thee. And all others that may
come and woo thee, do thou keep at arm's length until I return.'
Elined departed from the castle, but she did not go beyond the town. It
was in her mind to lie hidden for as long a time as it would take her
to go to Caerleon and return therefrom. Meanwhile, going about
disguised, she would be able to see what the many lords were doing who
would essay to woo the countess, seeing that, lovely and rich as she
was, she would be a splendid prize.
And things happened as she had foreseen. Every day there came into the
town one cavalcade or more, with some baron or earl in flashing armour
at the head of his vassals, come to try his fortune and to win the
lovely Countess of the Fountain, and to possess her wide dominions.
Daily the countess was compelled to receive fresh comers in audience,
and while with deft excuses she kept each at arm's length, they crowded
her audience-chamber, proud and insolent, humble or crafty, eyeing each
other with high looks, each prepared to slay his rival if the need
arose.
At last there came an earl who, as he came up the street at the head of
a large company of knights, seemed to shine like the sun. For his
armour was all of gold, and jewels were about his neck, and on his
girdle and his wrists. Every toss of his destrier's head dazzled the
eyes with the fountain of flashing lights given off by the jewels which
adorned the cloth of gold about its head.
This knight called himself the Earl of Drood, but Elined was in the
crowd of gaping townspeople that saw him enter, and she knew him for
the old insolent lover of her mistress, whom the countess had ever
despised, Sir Dewin of Castle Cower.
Sir Dewin disguised himself so that the countess did not know him. She
received him in audience, and though she was startled by the
magnificence of his dress, and a little moved by the gentleness of his
manner, she felt that she feared and distrusted him.
The next day he craved to see her again, and then said:
'Fair and noble lady, so deeply doth thy beauty move me, that I am
eager to put to the test swiftly the question whether I or some other
happier knight among these noble gentlemen shall obtain thy hand.
Therefore I crave permission of thee to proclaim a joust between all
these knights that sue for thee, and the winner among them all shall be
he that thou shalt wed.'
'Sir,' said the countess with great dignity, 'it is not for thee to
order here, but for me. I wish nothing to be done for the space of nine
days, and then will I make my choice.'
At which Sir Dewin, though full of rage, must needs seem content. And
the countess hoped that, in the space she had named, Elined would have
returned with the knight of her choice, and she herself could choose
him for her lord, if she thought he was the man whom she could most
trust and love.
But Sir Dewin wrought upon many of the suitors who were of his mind,
and they resolved that, will she, nill she, the countess must needs
abide by a contest between all her wooers to be holden on the tenth
day.
And on the tenth day all the knights, barons, and earls met together in
full armour in a broad green jousting-place beneath the windows of the
countess, and having made the rules of contest, and committed them to
the seneschal of the countess, they prepared to prove which among them
all was the knight of most prowess.
Then there was fierce hurtling to and fro of knight against knight, and
lances splintered, horses reared, knights fell wounded or dead, and
were dragged away. And for long, among the ninety-nine knights that
there jousted, none of the crowds who looked on could see which were
they who were gaining the day.
From her window the countess watched with a sorrowing and dreading
heart; for Elined had not yet returned, and therefore the countess must
be the prize of one of these suitors who had pestered her, and none of
whom she cared for.
Then, when the dust of the jousting had a little cleared, and the
knights had withdrawn to the sides of the lists, to breathe and rest
awhile, it was seen that twelve remained of the ninety-nine.
The countess, looking from her window, knew them all from the devices
on their shields, and none of them were men she favoured. Some she knew
were evil men, yet, as knights, were powerful in jousting. And she
dreaded which of them should be the victor, to be her lord and master.
Then the knights hurtled together again, and as one after the other was
unhorsed by stronger opponents and went from the field, she went pale
with fear and anxiety.
At last there were but two, and these were Sir Dewin, whom she knew as
the Earl of Drood, and the other was a knight in blue armour, with a
shield on which was painted a hillock or mound. And she knew him to be
a man named Sir Daunt, or the Knight of the Mount, a man of fierce
temper, quarrelsome and cruel.
The countess could have swooned with terror, for she knew that now she
was doomed to an unhappy life, whichever of these knights prevailed.
For though the Earl of Drood was soft and gentle in speech and manner,
she feared that this but covered a wicked heart.
She could hardly bear to look as she heard these two, the last of all
the ninety-nine, crash together in the midst of the jousting-ground.
And she heard the cries of the onlookers.
'The blue knight's the better man! How he heaves with his sword! Ah,
the golden knight is down!'
And looking from her window the countess saw the earl was lying
wounded, and the Knight of the Mount stood over him. Then the earl
surrendered and was carried off the field.
The great shouts that saluted the victor made the countess turn faint
and sick with dread, so that she fell back among her handmaidens in a
swoon. But, quickly recovering, she stood up, resolved to meet her fate
with proud dignity.
In a few moments the door opened and the arras was pushed aside, and
the groom of the chambers announced with a shout:
'The Knight of the Mound, victorious in the joust, craves leave to
greet our lady the countess.'
The lady bowed assent, trembling in every limb. Then the groom stepped
aside, and into the chamber came a comely gentleman, clad in purple
tunic, rich with chains and jewelled belt.
But it was not the knight whom the countess had expected, but a
stranger, with a courtly and gentle manner and a winning smile.
Then from behind him came Elined, full of smiles, with a look of
triumph in her eyes.
'My lady,' she said, bowing low, 'this is the knight, Sir Owen of
Wales, from the court of King Arthur, whom I have brought to protect
you and wed you. He hath just proved himself the doughtiest among a
hundred.'
The terror of the countess was changed instantly into joy, and she put
forth her hand, and Sir Owen bent and kissed it, and she led him to the
window seat, and commanded Elined to sit with them. And they spoke full
joyously together, for the countess was much taken with the noble and
gentle bearing of Sir Owen, and admired him because he had proved
himself the best man of all her wooers.
In a few days she sent for the bishops and priests, and her nuptials
with Sir Owen were celebrated with such feasting that all the country
was full of merriment and joy. And the men of the earldom came and did
homage to Owen, and he became the Earl of the Fountain.
In a little while thereafter Sir Owen told his lady that it was he who
had chased the soul from the body of her former lord. But the countess
was not vexed by the knowledge, for Sir Owen loved her greatly, and
with all tenderness and honour, and never had the countess been so
happy with Earl Cadoc as she was with Owen.
Thereafter Earl Owen defended the fountain with lance and sword against
all who ventured to challenge him in his earldom. And the knights who
were thus conquered he held to ransom, and the money he thus obtained
he divided equally among his barons and knights. Never had they had so
generous a lord, nor one of such prowess and knightly worth. And all
his subjects loved Earl Owen passing well.
Thus for three years in all happiness and quiet did Owen and the
countess dwell. Sir Dewin of Castle Cower had not power to hurt them,
nor did any other evil light upon them.
But at the end of this space, towards the close of a summer's day, Sir
Owen, by the magic whereby it was made known to him, knew that there
was a knight who challenged him at the fountain. So, putting on his
sky-blue armour, he went forth and found the knight.
They rushed together, and the strange knight was overthrown. But others
who were with him took him away, and Sir Owen waited. But none other
challenge was made, and in the twilight he retired, resolved to attend
next day in case any others desired to challenge him.
In the morning the same knight came forth from the company of knights
which was among the trees about the fountain. And so fiercely did Sir
Owen assail him that the head of his lance broke the helmet of the
stranger and pierced the flesh to the bone. Again his companions
carried him off.
Then other knights came forth and had to do with Sir Owen, but all were
overthrown. At length came one having over himself and his horse a rich
satin robe of honour, and Sir Owen knew that he must be a man of great
dignity, big of body and of knightly prowess.
They fought together that evening and half through the next day, but
neither could obtain the mastery. And about noon they took still
stronger lances and fought most stubbornly. At length they came so
furiously together that the girths of their horses were broken and both
were borne to the ground.
They rose up speedily and drew their swords and resumed the combat; and
all those that witnessed it felt that they had never seen such a battle
of heroes before. And suddenly with a blow fiercely strong and swiftly
keen, Sir Owen cut the fastenings of the strange knight's helm, so that
the headpiece came off.
With a cry Sir Owen dropped his weapon, for he knew that this was Sir
Gawaine, his cousin.
'My Lord Gawaine,' he said, 'the robe of honour that covered thee
prevented my knowing it was thee with whom I fought. Take my sword and
my arms, for I yield me to thee.'
'Nay, Sir Owen,' said Gawaine, 'take thou mine, for I am at thy mercy.'
Then came forward King Arthur, and Sir Owen knew him and kneeled before
him and kissed his hand, and then embraced him. And there was much joy
between all the knights and Owen, for all had feared that he had been
slain, and the king in despair had come upon this adventure to learn
tidings of him.
Then they all proceeded to the castle of the countess, and a great
banquet was prepared, with joustings and hawking parties and games.
They stayed three months in great happiness and diversion.
At last, when King Arthur prepared to depart, he went to the countess