The Killing Sword

from me this night, Balyn, but lie alongside me for warmth sake. For I tell you there is not but cold for me except from your strong body.’

  So Balyn lay by the damsel in her chamber in her bed. In his arms her naked body felt as cold as grave-stones. But as he looked upon her in the moon’s light he found her passing fair. In the small night she woke, and fell tenderly to kissing and clasping him.

  Balyn was none averse. He wrapped them both in the furred mantle that the Damsel of the Sword had left him, and he kissed her many times.

  XIII. Revenge

  ON THE MORN they went their way. They rode many days and met no adventure, until they lodged with a gentleman that was rich and well at ease. And as they sat at supper Balyn heard from above grievous loud groans.

  ‘What is this noise,’ asked Balyn.

  ‘Truly,’ said his host, ‘I will tell you. I was lately at a joust where I jousted with a knight that is brother unto King Pellam. Twice I knocked him down, and then he promised revenge on me through my best friend. And so he wounded my son that can not be healed till I have of that knight’s blood. And after he wounded my son, he rode away invisible so that no man’s eye could see where he rode or where he went. And from his shield and arms, I know he is kin to King Pellam, but beyond that, I know not his name.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Balyn, ‘I know that knight. His name is Garlon, and he has slain two knights before my eyes in the same manner. And for that I would rather encounter that knight than win all the gold in this realm, for the despite he did me.’

  ‘Well,’ said his host, ‘this knight Garlon is beyond defeat, for whenever he has his weapons he is invisible, and only when he is unarmed can he be seen. But I shall tell you something that should please you. King Pellam in his lustiness has made cry in all this country a great feast that he shall hold within these twenty days. And no knight may come there unless he bring with him his wife or his paramour. And that knight, your enemy and mine, you shall see that day.’

  ‘Then I promise you,’ said Balyn, ‘some of his blood to heal your son with.’

  So in the morning they rode all three toward Pellam that lay in the heart of that land, as deep in Logres as man could ride. It was a fortnight of journeying they had through the lush wild land, full of lakes and streams rich with trout and pike, and at the end of that fortnight they came to the castle of King Pellam the Fisher King. It was the very day of the feast, so they stabled their horses and went into the castle.

  But at the castle gate the servants would not let Balyn’s host go in, for he had no lady at his side.

  ‘Let him pass, he is my man,’ said Balyn, and so after some speech the host was let in to attend on Balyn.

  Balyn and his damsel were well received and brought unto one chamber and unarmed. And there were brought him robes to his pleasure, that were white and light and fine. The servants then counseled Balyn to leave his sword behind when they went down to the feast. ‘For our lord the King will entertain only pleasures at this feast.’

  ‘Nay,’ said Balyn, ‘that I will not do. For it is the custom of my country for a knight always to keep his weapon with him, and that custom will I keep, or else I will depart as I came.’

  Then the servants knew not what to do, but in the end they gave him leave to wear his sword.

  And so Balyn went unto the castle hall and was seated among knights of worship and his lady before him. Many lusty couples were there feasting and drinking and making good cheer, and a great fire blazed in the hearth. But Balyn cast his eyes about, seeking his enemy.

  Soon he asked a knight, ‘Is there not a knight in this court whose name is Garlon?’

  ‘Yonder he goes,’ said the knight, ‘that one there with the scowling face. He is King Pellam’s brother and the most marvelous knight that lives, for he destroys many good knights and they cannot strike him or know where he goes, for he goes invisible.’

  ‘Ah well,’ said Balyn, ‘is that the man indeed?’

  Then Balyn turned it over for a time with the lilac damsel his paramour. ‘If I slay him here,’ he said, ‘I shall not escape. And yet if I leave him now I shall never meet with him again and be able to see him. And great harm he will do if he goes on living and killing men unseen.’

  ‘Kill him,’ she said. ‘O Balyn as you love me kill me that knight.’

  And from where behind them he stood in attendance the rich man said, ‘If that knight lives after this day, he will go out and do to others what he has done to my son.’

  But meanwhile this Garlon saw that Balyn stared at him. And he was so proud that he came and smacked Balyn on the face with the back of his hand and said, ‘For shame, knight, why do you gape at me so? Eat your meat and do what you came for.’

  ‘That is well said,’ said Balyn. ‘This is not the first despite that you have done me, and therefore I will do what I came for.’ And he rose up fiercely with his own sword and clove Garlon’s head to the shoulders.

  ‘Give me the truncheon,’ said Balyn to his lady, ‘with which he slew your knight.’

  She gave it to him right away. And with it Balyn smote Garlon through the heart and said loudly, ‘With that truncheon you slew a good knight, and it sticks in your body now!’

  And then Balyn signaled his host and said, ‘Now you may fetch all the blood you need to heal your son.’

  XIV. The Dolorous Stroke

  ALL THE KNIGHTS AROSE from their tables to set upon Balyn when they saw him slaughter Garlon at their feast. And King Pellam himself rose and said, ‘Knight, you have killed my brother, so you shall die therefore before you leave my hall.’

  ‘Well,’ said Balyn, ‘then do it yourself if that’s what you have in mind.’

  ‘Yes,’ said King Pellam, ‘hold off you others. There shall no man have ado with him but myself for the love of my brother.’

  Then King Pellam caught in his hand a great club from the firewood, for he had no weapon by the rules of his feast, and struck at Balyn. But Balyn put his sword between his head and the stroke, so that the club swept aside the blade but left Balyn’s head whole. But the club caught the sword against the stones of the hearth, and therewith Balyn’s blade broke asunder. And King Pellam laughed and raised the club again.

  ‘Your other sword,’ cried his lady, and Balyn clutched at the magic pommel of the Sword of the Naked Damsel. But at that time the Strange Clasps would not let go the Sword to him.

  Balyn ran to find some other weapon and so he passed from chamber to chamber, and yet could find no weapon. And always King Pellam chased after him.

  At last Balyn came to a chamber that was marvelously well and richly furnished. There before him stood a bed arrayed with cloth of gold, the richest a man might dream, and one lying upon it. And beside the bed stood a table of pure gold with four pillars of silver that upheld it. And upon the table stood a marvelous spear strangely wrought.

  And when Balyn saw that spear, he took it in hand and turned to King Pellam, and smote him with that spear. King Pellam leapt up to avoid that stroke, but Balyn was as strong that day as any in his life, and he drove the spear through King Pellam’s hips and thighs. So King Pellam fell in a faint.

  But with that the castle roof and walls broke and fell to the earth. And Balyn fell down under the broken stones and mortar, so that he might not stir. In his ears he heard the cries of knights and ladies that lay dying, and beasts in the stables crushed under the stones.

  ‘Now I know what the damned souls hear when they are caged in the Pit of Hell,’ thought Balyn.

  And for three days the castle lay upon Pellam and Balyn.

  XV. The Maid in the Garden

  THEN MERLYN CAME and took up the stones that held Balyn underneath. And Merlyn got him a good horse, for his was dead.

  ‘Now,’ said Merlyn, ‘has it fallen out as I foretold. O Balyn, why could you not hold back your anger and your sword?’

  ‘No man can forego his doom,’ answered Balyn.

  ‘You speak well. But now I bid you ride out of this
country. For I go now to free the others caught under this castle, and the knights that still live will want your head for all that you have done here.’

  ‘I would have my damsel,’ said Balyn, ‘where is the damsel with the spear?’

  ‘Look here,’ said Merlyn, ‘where she lies dead. And there beside her lies King Pellam.’

  ‘Is he dead?’

  ‘No, not yet. But he will lie many years sore wounded, and will never be whole till Galahad the Haut Prince shall heal him in the quest of the Saint Grail. For know you, Balyn,’ said Merlyn, ‘that now your doom is almost fulfilled, and the worst of it begins. In this place was part of the blood of our lord Jesu Christ that Joseph of Armathea brought in to this land. And there in that rich bed you saw Joseph himself. For King Pellam was nigh kin of Joseph, and that was the same spear that Longius smote our lord to the heart. And King Pellam was the most worshipful man alive in these days and great pity it is he was hurt. For through that stroke you have brought grief upon these lands.’

  Balyn knew no word to that. For doom had taken his heart again and he knew now Merlyn’s words were truth. Then Balyn took horse and Merlyn said, ‘In this world we meet again nevermore.’

  So alone Balyn rode through the rich lands that now were waste. The rivers flowed no more and the lakes were drought. And everywhere he found the dead and slain, that had died for the Dolorous Stroke. And the few that were left alive cried as he rode by, ‘O Balyn you have brought great