And whilst none of these wounds was mortal, Gareth was bleeding everywhere and he grew weaker, and though he did never lose heart (for he was doing his duty and there was no alternative) it seemed as though he might well be killed before the sun began to descend and the Red Knight lost strength (for as yet it was high in the dome of the sky).
Now you can be sure that Lynette did watch this fight with much dread, and never had she seen so brave a man as Gareth, and in the degree to which she had once despised him, she did love him now. And she was bitter against God for providing the finest man she had ever known and yet making him but a scullion (for Lynette had never met a man of her own station whom she could admire, the valiant having been all felons and the honest, effeminate), and she was punished for this impiety by not learning the truth until it was too late: therefore she can serve as a sorry example to all fair ladies who would judge a man only by his temporary situation!
Now this fight between Gareth and the Red Knight had gone on for many hours, and Gareth was continually forced back by the attack of his puissant foe, and so they went across that field and unto the very castle, and almost all of Gareth’s armor had been hacked away, and he was so weak that he could not have remained on his feet were his back not placed against the stone wall.
And the Red Knight raised his red sword high over his red helmet with its blood-red plume at the crown, with a purpose to bring it down and to despatch Gareth altogether. And too weak to lift his own sword to deflect the blow, Gareth looked aloft at the red blade, but even in this moment of imminent death he was distracted by something he saw from the corner of his eye. And he turned his head and he saw in the window of a tower that did project from the wall of the castle the most beautiful face he had ever seen in his life, and it belonged to a maiden who was chained therein, and the window had iron bars.
Now Gareth fell in love with this maiden on the instant, and from that love, combined with hatred for the Red Knight whose captive she was, his strength returned to him and manyfold, and he raised his sword and chopped off the Red Knight’s left arm, and then both of his legs, and then his head, and soon all that remained of this notorious felon was a pile of disjoined parts in red armor.
Then Gareth mounted to the tower and he freed the maiden from her chains, and then he hacked the iron bars from the window, and he threw open the casement and let the sun stream in. And the maiden made great joy.
“Sir knight,” she said, “you have delivered me!” And her face was more radiant than the golden sun which came through the window, and her hair was more bright, and her eyes were blue as the sea. “Therefore I am yours by right of conquest!”
“Nay, lady,” said Gareth. “I am of King Arthur’s court, and we do not take such spoils. You are truly free, and you have no obligations.”
“Then freely,” said the maiden, “I would give myself to you, unless you find me obnoxious.”
“Lady,” said Gareth, “I would marry you, for I love you with all my heart.”
And weeping with joy, for she loved him as well, the maiden fell into his arms.
Meanwhile Lynette, who had covered her eyes so as not to watch the Red Knight kill the young man she knew as Beaumains, had finally opened them to see the felon lying in many red pieces, whereas Beaumains was nowhere to be found.
Therefore Lynette went to the tower, and there she saw her sister in the arms of the scullion, and who can say which feeling was uppermost in her heart, jealousy or outrage that such a base fellow (though valiant) should touch a lady?
“Fie, Beaumains!” she cried. “Unhand my sister! Do not corrupt the memory of thy valor by acting shamefully now.” And Gareth did as ordered, for the foolish haughtiness of Lynette had ever brought him contemptuous amusement.
But her sister, who was named Lynesse, clasped Gareth to her bosom, saying, “This knight hath delivered me, and we shall be married.”
And Lynette gasped in horror and she said, “Lynesse, thou goose, dost not know he is but a knave who worketh in the kitchens?”
“I care only that I love him dearly!” cried Lynesse.
And therefore Lynette did appeal to Gareth. “Beaumains, this is but a foolish young girl who hath never left this castle in all her life. I beg of thee that thou be decent.” And from her fingers she took her rings, which were of begemmed gold, and she gave them to Gareth. “Now, thou art the richest scullion in the world. Accept these as recompense for being the most valiant.”
And now, for Lynesse was weeping piteously in the belief that her sister would drive her lover away, Gareth could no longer forbear from revealing who he was.
And when he had so done, Lynesse was overjoyed, but Lynette said reproachfully, “Why, my lord, doth a prince of the Orkneys and a nephew to the throne of Britain pose as a knave?”
“Perhaps,” said Gareth, “to prove that he is no less.”
“But so to delude a lady,” asked Lynette, “think you this was chivalrous?”
“Lady,” said Gareth, “(soon to be sister), methinks my duty was but to relieve you of this tyranny, and so have I done. King Arthur would never have given the quest to one who was unworthy of it.”
“Well,” said Lynette, “I am ashamed, and I confess I was at fault, but I do not think that all the wrong was mine.” And she did go away for a while and weep privately, for now she could admit to herself that she had loved Gareth even as a scullion, and had she found him after he had slain the Red Knight (before he had found her sister) she might well have given herself to him knave though she believed him to be.
And it was not long before they all set out for Camelot, for Gareth’s many wounds were slight and his love for Lynesse caused them to heal quickly.
Now it should be known that when Sir Kay learned that Gareth had gone off upon a quest, he realized that though he had been critical of him as a scullion he had rather liked him withal, and he did not want him to be killed in some rash venture. Therefore Sir Kay put on his own armor and he took up his weapons, and he went in search of the lad, for to aid him if he got into trouble.
Now Lynesse had found for Gareth a new suit of silver armor in the castle, and this he was wearing when he and the two sisters were traveling towards Camelot, and when Sir Kay came over an hill and saw him, the seneschal believed he was a felon who had captured these two ladies, and therefore he lowered his visor and he charged him.
Nor did Gareth recognize Sir Kay in the armor, and he answered the charge, and he soon unseated Kay, who was knocked senseless by his fall to the earth. And Gareth had defeated him so easily that he did not bother to dismount and wake him up and demand that he yield (for he believed him a knight of no consequence), and he desired to reach Camelot without delay and to be knighted and to marry Lynesse.
But meanwhile, learning that Kay had gone off again, King Arthur sent for Sir Launcelot, and he said to that great knight, “My dear friend, Kay has got away from us once again. Canst thou go and see that he is not hurt?”
“I can, Sire, and I will,” said Launcelot, who was relieved to be away from Guinevere at this time, for she had grown ever more peevish of late and she did think him wanting in his attentions to her, notwithstanding that he did little else than to attend her (but this is the way of a queen at best, and even more so when she hath nought else to do). Nor for a long time had Launcelot gone upon a quest. Therefore though this one was not for an exalted purpose he was grateful to have it, and he accoutered himself and he rode to find Sir Kay.
Now it was not long after Gareth’s encounter with Kay that he espied another knight coming towards him and the ladies, and this was Sir Launcelot. But Gareth did not recognize his shield with its famous device of lions rampant. And further he was annoyed that he should be attacked again and so delayed. Therefore he said to the ladies, “Have no concern! I shall make even shorter work of this rogue than I did with the last.” (For with his recent successes Gareth, being but a young man, had grown foolishly arrogant.)
And fewtering his lance and
pricking his steed he charged upon Sir Launcelot, and watching his handsome figure on the horse, both sisters thrilled with love for him, Lynesse in joy, but that of Lynette was melancholic.
Now for his part neither did Launcelot know the identity of his opponent, but when he saw Gareth charge upon him he lowered the most formidable weapon in the world and he spurred his horse.
And when they met it was Gareth and not Sir Launcelot who was thrown over the hindquarters of his steed. And he rose unhurt and he drew his sword.
Now not until this moment had Lynette noticed Sir Launcelot’s shield, which she recognized, but she had been distracted utterly by her unrequited love for Gareth.
“Gareth, Gareth!” she cried, and she rode her palfrey onto the field and inhibited him from continuing the fight. “You fight the great Launcelot!”
But Gareth’s blood was hot from the humiliation he had suffered in the presence of his lady love, and his wits were so affected that he did not attend to the name of his foe. And he cried, “For the love of God, Lynette, void the field and let me slay this hound!”
And he went around the palfrey, and he rushed at Sir Launcelot, who had meanwhile dismounted and drawn his great sword. But Launcelot heard Lynette cry out the young man’s name, and he remembered that his friend Gawaine had a younger brother so hight, and therefore he lowered his sword, and he opened his visor, and he was about to ask graciously for quarter, so as to encourage this brave youth in his sense of valor. But Gareth was already setting upon him fiercely.
Therefore Sir Launcelot caught Gareth’s raised wrist before the blade could descend, and he took the sword from him as if from a small varlet. And in shame and chagrin Gareth knelt and said, “My lord, I would you killed me quickly.”
But Sir Launcelot raised him up. “Methinks thou art Gareth, the younger brother of my dear Gawaine, for I see in thee something of both his physical and moral qualities. Ye are a passionate family.”
And it was as if Gareth had only now heard Lynette say the name of Launcelot, and he hung his head and he said, “Sir Launcelot, I have been a great fool, I fear. I love that lady with the fair hair and distracted by that love I became inordinate.”
“Well,” said Launcelot, “if this is the worst to which love has led thee, then count thyself the happiest of men.” And then he remembered why he had come out of Camelot, and he asked Gareth whether he had seen Sir Kay.
Now when Gareth described the shield of the knight he had lately defeated, Sir Launcelot said, “Yea, that was the gallant seneschal. But from what thou tellest me I take it that he was not hurt badly. Therefore I shall not go to him, for he might be discomfited. And I know that thou art a man who will speak nought of thine encounter with him, for he is our friend.”
For Launcelot was the most delicate of men with the feelings of his fellows.
Now the two knights and the two sisters rode to Camelot together, and when they arrived there the ladies related Gareth’s achievements to King Arthur and all the court, and Gawaine, Agravaine, and Gaheris were there, and they affectionately embraced their brother.
And King Arthur said, “When thou earnest here, thou didst ask me for three boons. Thou hast received two of them. Which doth remain?”
“To be knighted by Sir Launcelot, Sire,” said Gareth. “He hath ever been my model, which I say without prejudice to mine own noble brothers.” (And while Gawaine and Gaheris did nobly approve of this, Agravaine was secretly much offended, for he did detest Launcelot ever more.) And then said Gareth, “Having lately had the experience I might say that only Launcelot can make one feel it a privilege to be unseated by him!”
And here King Arthur and the entire court (except for Guinevere, Sir Agravaine, and of course Sir Launcelot himself) did laugh most merrily. And Launcelot did knight Gareth as he wished, and the date was set for the wedding of Gareth to the fair Lynesse.
Now poor Lynette’s heart was broken and having lost the one man she had ever loved she expected never to love another, and furthermore to be tormented forever by Gareth’s proximity as her brother-in-law. But during the preparations for the wedding she became acquainted with Gaheris, who much resembled his younger brother except that Gaheris had a fine silken mustache and his voice was deeper and richer.
And having been a knight of the Round Table for some years he had performed many quests, and some had been quite as perilous as Gareth’s only one. But his most attractive quality to Lynette was that he did admire her greatly.
And when the wedding was celebrated, it was a double ceremony in which Sir Gareth married Lynesse and the bride of Sir Gaheris was Lynette.
And these results, which were happy for all at Camelot, were very chagrining to the wicked Morgan la Fey, in whose service the Red Knight of the Red Lawns, and his brothers of the other colors, had toiled ardently. Nor was the evil Mordred pleased at the success of his half-brother Gareth, for he hated most those of the same blood (the which had turned to poison in his own veins). But the only harm that this vile pair could manage in this whole matter was to waylay the unfortunate Black Knight (whom Gareth had sent back to Camelot, it will be remembered, for to give his fealty to King Arthur), and to kill him by deceit, which they did in this wise: Morgan la Fey pretended to be a lady in distress, and the Black Knight stopped to give her succor, and she led him to one of her enchanted castles in a wood, where the pestilent Mordred stabbed him in the back.
“Now, my dear Mordred,” said Morgan la Fey, “we have accomplished two pieces of evil hereby: firstly, we have despatched a knight who would henceforth have served virtue, and secondly we have made it seem to Sir Gareth that the Black Knight did not keep his word to do homage to Arthur. And with this Round Table lot, the latter is worse than the former, for they do believe that any life is soon over, but a man’s honor be remembered forever, inspiring other men to come.”
“Yea, my dear aunt,” said Mordred, “but we must not pretend that this episode was in any large way a success for us. Was it not our purpose in instigating the Red Knight to seize Lynette’s castle and to imprison the fair Lynesse, thus to lure out of Camelot the incomparable Launcelot? But methinks that if untried Gareth could overcome the four ferocious knights of the colors, Launcelot could have done so even more easily. Therefore what should we have gained even if it had gone as we did plan?”
“In the convent where I was reared,” said Morgan la Fey, “I learned the black art of nigromancy, and using this means I have determined that there will be one knight in the world who can defeat Sir Launcelot. Now it seemeth to me well worth the effort to try to pit him against every knight we find who hath hitherto been unbeaten until we find the one who will whelm him.”
“Well,” said Mordred, who even at his tender age was more clever than his aunt, “’twould seem an inefficient means, for no doubt Launcelot would kill thousands before that happened, and whilst we care nothing for these lives, we must believe that with every victory his fame will be ever greater. Should we not rather seek to ruin him in another way?”
“Which way?” asked his aunt Morgan la Fey, and she did resent being counseled by a child though she knew him as already totally corrupt.
“In some fashion which doth not partake of physical violence,” said Mordred. “For in fighting he hath no peer (except for this one who will one day be found). But this one who will come: can we assume that he will be an evil man? He may be an even more virtuous knight!”
Morgan la Fey did frown. “Nay, Mordred, that is unlikely, for Sir Launcelot, damn him, is famous for being without stain.” (And in believing this she did unknowingly demonstrate the naïvete of the very evil, which is founded on vanity, for they think that they alone are capable of wickedness.) And she said, “There is no means by which Launcelot can be damaged morally, I fear. He hath no cupidity, and he doth not yearn for power. And he is chaste by natural inclination, and by vow as well. And that he is merciless in this was shown by the history of the wretched Elaine of Astolat, whom he could have saved with a
few embraces, and she was so desirable a maiden that thy brother Gawaine hath been able to love no one else since her death.
“Nay,” said Morgan la Fey to her evil nephew, “let us forget about Sir Launcelot the right arm and consider the very head, my brother King Arthur: if it were struck off, the body of the Round Table would soon wither.”
And truly she had grown competitive with Mordred, for she feared that his cunning might be more than an equal for hers, and she wished to destroy her brother by her own devices.
Therefore this unnatural woman did formulate a scheme by which King Arthur would be killed treacherously.
BOOK XII
How Sir Accolon, who was assotted with Morgan la Fey, made an attempt on King Arthur’s life.
NOW MORGAN LA FEY HAD long been married to old King Uriens of the land of Gore, and he was as good as she was evil, but he was not a shrewd king and he did never suspect her of wickedness.
And King Uriens gave little thought to ought but hunting, on which he was so keen that he did little else now that there were no wars to fight, for like all other kings on the British isle he was a vassal of King Arthur and under his protection. And Morgan la Fey despised her husband and therefore, though she knew no sexual pleasure, she took to bed many other men for to make mock of him, but if Uriens were aware of this (and she did nothing to keep it secret) he did not so much as chide her, let alone burn her at the stake, and he was indifferent to all that did not pertain to the chase.
Now there came a time when he did invite his brother-in-law and liege lord King Arthur to come to Gore to hunt stags in his park, and King Arthur accepted this invitation with pleasure.
Now when Arthur told Guinevere he would be away from Camelot her heart leapt secretly, for though she and Launcelot had been lovers for several years they met always in a clandestine fashion. But as time went on she no longer worried much, for never did King Arthur intrude upon her privacy, and it was as if when Sir Launcelot broke his vow of chastity King Arthur did assume its obligation. And in a strange way King Arthur and Sir Launcelot were ever reciprocal.