King Arthur's Knights
Lancelot hath slain the brethren of Sir Gawaine, and they are Sir
Gaheris and Sir Gareth.'
The king looked from the man to the knights that now surrounded him, as
if that which he heard was past all belief.
'Is this truth?' he asked them, and all were moved at the sorrow on
his face and in his voice.
'Yea, lord,' said they.
'Then, fair fellows,' he said, very heavily, 'I charge you that no man
tell Sir Gawaine of the death of his two brothers; for I am sure that
when he heareth that his loved younger brother, Sir Gareth, is slain,
he will nigh go out of his mind for sorrow and anger.'
The king strode up and down the chamber, wringing his hands in the
grief he could not utter.
'Why, oh why, did he slay them?' he cried out at length. 'He himself
knighted Sir Gareth when he went to fight the oppressor of the Lady
Lyones, and Sir Gareth loved him above all others.'
'That is truth,' said some of the knights, and could not keep from
tears to see the king's grief, 'but they were slain in the hurtling
together of the knights, as Sir Lancelot dashed in the thick of the
press. He wist not whom he smote, so blind was his rage to get to the
queen at the stake.'
'Alas! alas!' said the king. 'The death of them will cause the
greatest woful war that ever was in this fair realm. I see ruin before
us all--rent and ruined shall we be, and all peace for ever at an end.'
Though the king had forbidden any of his knights to tell Sir Gawaine of
the death of his two brothers, Sir Mordred called his squire aside, and
bade him go and let Sir Gawaine know all that had happened.
'Do you see to it,' he told the man, 'that thou dost inflame his mind
against Sir Lancelot.'
The knave went to Sir Gawaine, and found him walking on the terrace of
the palace overlooking the broad quiet Thames, where the small trading
ships sailed up and down the river on their ways to and from Gaul and
the ports of the Kentish coast.
'Sir,' said the squire, doffing his cap and bowing, 'great and woful
deeds have been toward this day. The queen hath been rescued by Sir
Lancelot and his kin, and some thirty knights were slain in the melee
about the stake.'
'Heaven defend my brethren,' said Sir Gawaine, 'for they went unarmed.
But as for Sir Lancelot, I guessed he would try a rescue, and I had
deemed him no man of knightly worship if he had not. But, tell me, how
are my brethren. Where be they?'
'Alas, sir,' said the man, 'they be slain.'
The grim face of Sir Gawaine went pale, and with an iron hand he seized
the shoulder of the squire and shook him in his rage.
'Have a care, thou limb of Mordred's, if thou speakest lies,' he said.
'I would not have them dead for all this realm and its riches. Where is
my young brother, Sir Gareth?'
'Sir, I tell ye truth,' said the man, 'for I know how heavy would be
your anger if I lied in this. Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris are slain, and
all good knights are mourning them, and in especial the king our
master.'
Sir Gawaine took a step backwards and his face went pale and then it
darkened with rage.
'Tell me who slew them?' he thundered.
'Sir,' replied the man, 'Sir Lancelot slew them both.'
'False knave!' cried Sir Gawaine, 'I knew thou didst lie.'
He struck the man a great buffet on the head, so that he fell half
dazed to the ground.
'Ha! ha! thou lying talebearer!' laughed Sir Gawaine, half relieved of
his fears, yet still half doubtful. 'To tell me that Sir Lancelot slew
them! Why, man, knowest thou of whom thou pratest? Sir Lancelot to slay
my dear young brother Gareth! Why, man, Gareth loved Sir Lancelot as he
loved me--not more than he loved me, but near as much; and Sir Lancelot
was ever proud of him. 'Twas he that knighted my young brother Gareth,
brave and hearty, noble of mind and goodly of look! He would have stood
with Lancelot against the king himself, so greatly he loved him. And
thou--thou foul-mouth!--thou tellest me that Lancelot hath slain him!
Begone from my sight, thou split-tongue!'
'Nevertheless, Sir Gawaine,' said the man, rising, 'Sir Lancelot slew
them both in his rage. As he would--saving your presence--have slain
you had you stood between him and the queen at the stake.'
At these words, stubbornly spoken in spite of the furious looks of Sir
Gawaine, the knight realised that the man was speaking the truth.
His look was fixed on the face of the knave, and rage and grief filled
his eyes as he grasped the fact that his beloved brother was really
slain. Then the blood surged into his face, and he dashed away.
Men started to see the wild figure of Sir Gawaine rushing through the
passages, his eyes bloodshot, his face white. At length he dashed into
the presence of the king. Arthur stood sorrowing amidst his knights,
but Sir Gawaine rushed through them and faced the king.
'Ha! King Arthur!' he cried, half breathless, but in a great wild
voice, 'my good brother, Sir Gareth, is slain, and also Sir Gaheris! I
cannot bear the thought of them slain. It cannot be true! I cannot
believe it!'
'Nay, nor can any think upon it,' said the king, 'and keep from
weeping.'
'Ay, ay,' said Sir Gawaine in a terrible voice, 'there shall be
weeping, I trow, and that erelong. Sir, I will go see my dead brothers.
I would kiss them ere they be laid in earth.'
'Nay, that may not be,' said the king gently. 'I knew how great would
be thy sorrow, and that sight of them would drive thee mad. And I have
caused them to be interred instantly.'
'Tell me,' said Gawaine, and men marvelled to see the wild look in his
eyes and to hear the fierce voice, 'is it truth that Sir Lancelot slew
them both?'
'It is thus told me,' said the King, 'that in his fury Sir Lancelot
knew not whom he smote.'
'But, man,' thundered Sir Gawaine, 'they bare no arms against him!
Their hearts were with him, and young Gareth loved him as if--as if
Lancelot was his own brother.'
'I know it, I know it,' replied King Arthur. 'But men say they were
mingled in the thick press of the fight, and Lancelot knew not friend
from foe, but struck down all that stood between him and the queen.'
For a space Sir Gawaine was silent, and men looked upon him with awe
and compassion. His mane of hair, grizzled and wild, was thrown back
upon his shoulders, and his eyes flamed with a glowing light as of
fire. Suddenly he stepped up to the king, and lifting his right hand
said, in a voice that trembled With rage:
'My lord, my king, and mine uncle, wit you well that now I make oath by
my knighthood, that from this day I will seek Sir Lancelot and never
rest till he be slain or he slay me. Therefore, my lord king, and you,
my fellow knights and lords, I require you all to prepare yourselves
for war; for, know you, though I ravage this land and all the lands of
Christendom, I will not rest me nor slake my revenge until I come up to
Lancelot and drive my sword into his evil heart.'
With that Sir Gawaine strode from the room, and for a space all men
were silent, so fierce and full of hatred had been his words.
'I see well,' said the king, 'that the death of these twain knights
will cause the deadliest war that hath ever raged, and never shall we
have rest until Gawaine do slay Lancelot or is slain by him. O
Lancelot! Lancelot! my peerless knight, that ever thou shouldst be the
cause of the ruin of this my fair kingdom!'
None that heard the king could keep from tears; and many felt that in
this quarrel the king's heart was not set, except for the sake of Sir
Gawaine, his nephew, and all his kin.
Then there were made great preparations in London and all the lands
south of Trent, with sharpening of swords and spears, making of harness
and beating of smiths' hammers on anvils.
Men's minds were in sore distress, and the faces of the citizens were
long and white with dismay. Daily the quarrel caused other quarrels.
Many a group of knights came to high words, some taking the side of
Lancelot and the queen, and others that of the king and Sir Gawaine.
Often they came to blows, and one or other of their number would be
left writhing and groaning on the ground.
Families broke up in bad blood by reason of it, for the sons would avow
their intent to go and enlist with Lancelot, while the fathers, in high
anger at such disloyalty to Arthur, would send their tall sons away,
bidding them never to look upon their faces again.
Women sorrowed and wept, for whichever side they took, it meant that
one or other of their dear ones was opposed to them, and would go to
battle, fighting against those of their own kin and of their own
hearths.
Towards midsummer the host was ready, and took the road to the north.
The quarrel had been noised abroad throughout Britain, and many kings,
dukes and barons came to the help of Arthur, so that his army was a
great multitude. Yet many others had gone to Lancelot, where he lay in
his castle of Joyous Gard, not far from Carlisle.
Thither, in the month of July, when the husbandmen were looking to
their ripening fields and thinking of harvest, King Arthur and Sir
Gawaine drew with their army and laid a siege against the castle of
Joyous Gard, and against the walled town which it protected. But for
all their engines of war, catapults which threw great stones, and
ramming irons which battered the walls, they could not make a way into
the place, and so lay about it until harvest time.
One day, as Queen Gwenevere stood at a window of the castle, she looked
down at the tents of the besieging host, and her gaze lingered on the
purple tent of King Arthur, with the banner of the red dragon on the
pole above it. As she looked, she saw her husband issue from the tent
and begin to walk up and down alone in a place apart. Very moody did he
seem, as he strode to and fro with bent head. Sometimes he looked
towards Joyous Gard, and then his face had a sad expression upon it
which went to the queen's heart.
She went to Sir Lancelot, and said:
'Sir Lancelot, I would that this dreadful war were done, and that thou
wert again friends and in peace with my dear lord. Something tells me
that he sorrows to be at enmity with thee. Thou wert his most famous
knight and brought most worship to the fellowship of the Round Table.
Wilt thou not try to speak to my lord? Tell him how evil were the false
reports of the conspiracy against him, and that we are innocent of any
treason against him and this dear land.'
'Lady,' said Sir Lancelot, 'on my knighthood I will try to accord with
my lord. If our enemies have not quite poisoned his thoughts of us, he
may listen and believe.'
Thereupon Sir Lancelot caused his trumpeter to sound from the walls,
and ask that King Arthur would hold a parley with him. This was done,
and Sir Pentred, a knight of King Arthur's, took the message to the
king.
In a little while King Arthur, with Sir Gawaine and a company of his
counsellors and knights, came beneath the walls, and the trumpeters
blew a truce, and the bowmen ceased from letting fly their arrows and
the men-at-arms from throwing spears.
Then Sir Lancelot came down to a narrow window in the gate-tower, and
cried out to the king:
'Most noble king, I think that neither of us may get honour from this
war. Cannot we make an end of it?'
'Ay,' cried Sir Gawaine, his face red with anger, and shaking his
mailed fist at Lancelot, 'come thou forth, thou traitor, and we will
make an end of thee.'
'Come forth,' said the king, 'and I will meet thee on the field. Thou
hast slain thirty of my good knights, taken my queen from me, and
plunged this realm in ruin.'
'Nay, lord, it was not I that caused this war,' said Sir Lancelot. 'I
had been but a base knight to have suffered the noble lady my queen to
be burned at the stake. And it passes me, my lord king, how thou