And in a voice which was all but strangled by jealousy, Guinevere then told him of what Sir Bromel had reported to her.
“Well,” said Sir Launcelot when she was done, “I can not be held responsible for the delusions of a silly damsel! I had nought privately to do with her, Guinevere.”
And the queen said, “Will you swear?”
“By my Faith,” said Sir Launcelot, “though that be blasphemous! But I am anyway damned already.”
And in the degree to which she had been furious, the queen so yearned to be appeased, and at length Launcelot persuaded her to return to bed, and when she did he presented her with the most effective argument in his own behalf for having been so long denied the provender of love (so far as he honestly remembered) he was now ravenous. And this was the only way in which this proud queen would submit to overwhelming.
And never were Guinevere and Launcelot so happy as in the succeeding months, for King Arthur stayed away from Camelot for ever so long, and from Caerleon he went to his castle at Winchester, in the which his father Uther Pendragon had died, and the great hall there was yet a memorial to his love of horses and dogs, for never had it been mucked out since in his last days he had used it as a stable and a kennel.
And now at last King Arthur revealed to his subjects at large that he was Uther Pendragon’s son, as he had not done earlier, but he had begun to feel his mortality now. And everywhere he went men and women came to him calling themselves his brothers and sisters, for they claimed to be Uther’s bastards. And to all of them King Arthur gave gold, and to those who could produce some evidence of their claim, such as a royal token given by Uther Pendragon to their mother, Arthur gave land.
And wherever he traveled there were long lines of petitioners who waited for an audience with him, and he turned no one away whether highborn or base. And when he came to his castle at London among the people there admitted to see him were an hideous hag with a young lad who had an exceeding pale face and glittering black eyes.
“And what boon do ye seek of your king?” he asked of them.
And the hag curtsied and the boy did bow, and the old woman said, “The varlet wished only to see his Sire.”
“Well, I have ridden throughout the streets,” said King Arthur, “and shall so ride again. Am I so different when sitting on a throne and not an horse that ye would wait many hours to see me here?”
“Majesty,” said the hag, “the varlet would see you everywhere you go, for he doth idolize you.”
“Thou art a good lad,” said King Arthur, but he reproved him for his idolatry. “God alone is to be worshiped, my boy. When thou wouldst think of me, think beyond me to Him who is my king.”
And the old woman and the lad made obeisance to him and then they went away, and they were Morgan la Fey in disguise and Mordred.
“Well,” said Morgan la Fey when they were in a private place, “thou hast seen thy father at last. And what thinkest thou?”
“Of what?” asked Mordred. “Of him or of how to kill him?”
“Both,” said Morgan la Fey.
“It was no surprise to me that he is the finest-looking man in the world,” said Mordred.
“Indeed,” said Morgan la Fey. “And is that not disgusting?”
“Abominably so,” Mordred did agree. “Now, as to how to do him in.... You are aware, my dear aunt, that your own efforts to that end have been disgraceful failures?”
“How typically malicious of thee to remind me,” said Morgan la Fey, who had made herself beautiful again. “Canst thou do better, little shit?”
And Mordred smiled at the abuse, and he pursed his pale thin lips and narrowed further his glittering serpent’s eyes. “It may be a thing of time,” said he. “Perhaps one day it will be old-fashioned to think of ourselves as unique in our monstrosity. Can there not exist monsters of the well-intentioned? Is not virtue finally a monstrous thing?”
“It is certainly to such as we,” said Morgan la Fey, and she talked no further on this matter, for she was jealous of her command of evil, and she feared that Mordred as he got older would seek to gain mastery of her in this regard.
Whereas already he despised her methods, for Mordred did not believe in the efficacy of spells and enchantments and all such archaic rot. And he believed that kings could be better ruined by means that were quite reasonable.
BOOK XVII
Of Percival and his sheltered upbringing; and how he became a knight.
NOW WHEN KING ARTHUR toured his realm he was greeted lovingly by his people everywhere, for they had been freed of all oppression and their harvests had been great and no plague had come since he assumed the throne. And the lepers came to him and fathers brought their idiot sons, and the king touched these sick persons, and if they were not cured then at least they felt less ill than before, and never did he claim any curative powers that did not come from God. And all the bishops were honest, and when King Arthur came near by the brothels did close, and some of them never opened again, for the whores had become nuns. And everywhere he went his evil sister Morgan la Fey tried to do him harm in some wise, enchanting weak men so that they became traitors, and stones were dislodged from battlements and fell down missing the king but narrowly, and noxious potions were introduced into his drink and his meat was poisoned, but God always forewarned him of these things, and therefore he spurned that which was tainted. And if when judging contests in archery he was the target of an arrow discharged so as to kill him, he always turned at just that instant and it missed him. And when his retainers arrested the felonious bowman King Arthur accepted his plea that the shot had been made in accident, and he freed the man without punishment, as he forgave all others who, enchanted by his wicked sister, sought to kill him.
And this forgiveness broke the spell on these unfortunate men, and they swore henceforth to be exemplary Christians and some became honest knights and the rest, monks.
Meanwhile at Camelot, Guinevere and Launcelot did not resist their illegal love, and with Arthur being away they were never apart for a moment, and therefore it was no longer a secret to those who had eyes. But most of the knights of the Round Table were not in residence, being off on the quest for the Holy Grail, and furthermore no virtuous knight would gossip of the immorality of others, for he was concerned with his own sins and how best to atone for those of the past and to avoid committing them in future, though he well knew that to breathe was to sin.
But of all those who were present at Camelot, Sir Agravaine, though he spied incessantly on the adulterous pair, knew least about them: which is so often true of him who looks for infractions. And indeed though Launcelot spent every night in the bed of Guinevere, Sir Agravaine did never get positive evidence of this, though that was his sole aim in all the world at this time.
And the wondrous thing was that neither Guinevere nor Sir Launcelot knew they were being spied upon, for they had come to the point at which they did not care whether this happened, and therefore their very guilelessness provided a certain protection.
And as to Launcelot’s notable scruples, they could only be called stunned now for a while. For though he knew he was damned, time for him had stopped. And so we leave him there for the nonce, like a fly who had ceased to struggle against the hardening sap in which he is immersed, and whether it turns to eternal amber we shall see in the sequel.
But now we go to the castle of the late King Pellinore where his widow had but one son left at home, and his name was Percival, and he had been reared by his mother to know nothing of arms or of warfare, for his father had gone away when he was a small boy and had finally returned only to be soon slain by Sir Gawaine. And this queen’s other sons had left her as well, for to search for their father who had gone to seek the Questing Beast, and one by one they found their way to Camelot and joined the Round Table, and these were sirs Tor and Aglavale and Lamorak and Dornar. Therefore she had no men at home at all, and she determined never to let young Percival leave her.
And so she kep
t him by her, and he never saw a sword or a lance, and he learned nothing of the knightly arts but rather was taught to sew and crochet along with his young sister and to talk only of womanish matters.
Now when his father King Pellinore did finally return and reign for that short time, Percival’s mother did not tell him it was his father on the throne, but merely that it was the king. And when Gawaine killed Pellinore, Percival’s mother kept this knowledge from him.
And never was there so naive a boy as Percival, and he grew to the age of fourteen without ever having been farther from the family chambers of the castle than the private garden where no one else came.
Now one day he was in that garden, playing at dolls with his sister, when his sister left him briefly to go within the castle for to get a tiny muff with which to warm the hands of a doll that she believed to be cold. And Percival was happy to have this respite, because he was greatly bored, and he idly watched a wren that did bathe itself in a birdbath and then hop to the top of the garden wall, where it stayed but a moment and then it flew over the wall and apparently landed on the earth without, for its flight could not be seen.
Now Percival was intrigued by this, and for the first time did it occur to him that there might be an earth outside the walls. That is to say he knew they were not sitting upon a cloud in the empty air, but he had never before considered what might be the nature of the world without. And therefore he now scaled the wall by means of the vines thereupon, and he looked over it, and he saw a broad meadow and a river running through it, and some knights were riding on the riverbank, with bright steel armor which shone in the sunlight. But Percival did not know they were knights, for never had he seen any.
Therefore he climbed down and he went to his mother the queen and he told her of these shining beings which he had seen and he asked her what they were.
Now his mother was determined that he should never take up arms, and therefore she spake to him as follows.
“My dear Percival,” said she, “what a happy boy thou art! For thou hast seen a procession of angels.”
“Well,” said Percival, “they were quite the most beautiful sight that I have ever seen. How might I become an angel, Mother?”
“By living piously all thy life,” said his mother. “And when thou hast died God will make thee into an angel for all eternity.”
And Percival was pleased to hear this could be done so simply. But when he thought on it more he became impatient, and he did not want to wait so long to become an angel, because he was only a boy (and in fact he believed himself to be younger than he was, so protected had been his upbringing).
Therefore when he returned with his sister to the garden he found a large stone there and he gave it her and asked her to bash out his brains with it.
“O fool that thou art, Percy,” said his sister, “for when the brains are bashed out a person doth live no longer.”
“Dost not understand? I would become an angel quickly,” said Percival.
“But can this be the proper way to that end?” asked his sister. “To make of me a murderess?” For his sister’s wits were keener than his, because she was being raised as a maid should be, whereas he had been kept from all male things by his fearful mother.
“Thou canst not be a murderess,” said Percival, “if it is I who have asked thee to kill me.”
“Then thou wouldst be a suicide, fie on thee,” said his sister. “And both of us would go to Hell.” And thinking of the wickedness of this she burst into tears.
Now Percival was quite disappointed, and he scaled the wall again to see whether the angels were yet there, and so they were, for they were resting in the shade of a tree on the riverbank. And suddenly Percival determined to go closer to them so that he could learn more of their ways, and whilst his sister’s back was turned he clambered to the top of the wall and then let himself down the other side.
And for the first time in his life he was outside the castle in which he had been born and kept, and for a while he was dizzy with the realization of this. Then from over the wall he could hear his sister crying for him, and fearing that his mother would send people to bring him back he ran as fast as he could to the river, where he hid in a bush. And the angels had tied their horses near by, and these beasts smelling Percival did nicker and stamp their feet. And a very large angel in a coat of shining metal did come to investigate, and he found Percival behind the bush.
“Well, varlet,” said he, “why dost hide here? To do us ill?”
“Oh, never, Sir Angel,” said Percival, and he rose and he bowed. “I have come to admire you.”
“Thou art a fine-looking boy,” said the knight, “and three-quarters grown, and thou wouldst seem strong enough. Why therefore dost thou wear the dress of a maiden? Art thou a detestable catamite?” And he spake with great sternness.
Now Percival understood nought of what the knight said, and his mother had always dressed him in the same fashion as his sister, and never having seen any other male persons he knew of no other mode.
And now the knight brought him amongst the others, and Percival was awed by these large glittering beings, who clattered when they did move.
“And what do ye make of this, which I found behind a bush?” said the knight who had brought him there.
And all of these angels had heads made of metal, with windows in them which they looked out of. But then one of them took off his metal head, and underneath it he had an human face, the which was stern and strong, but looking down on Percival he soon smiled.
“Thou hast no need to be afraid of us, my boy,” said he. “We are knights of Arthur’s Round Table, and we mean no harm to anyone in this land.”
“Knights?” asked Percival. “Are you not then angels?”
Now all these knights did laugh heartily, but not unkindly, and the one who had been speaking to him said, “I am Bors.” And then he introduced each of the others. And he said, “Nay, we are not angels yet, though we hope to be when we have died, but God alone must decide that. Now what is thy name?”
“Percival,” said the same.
“Well, Percival,” said Sir Bors, “it would seem from the manner of thy speech that thou art of high rank. Yet from the content of it one might judge that thou wert ignorant of things that pertaineth to men.”
“Sir, that is true,” said Percival. “Until this moment I have never left yon castle in which I was born.”
And all the knights sighed at these news, for they knew to whom the castle belonged.
“Thou art then the youngest son of King Pellinore, without a doubt,” said Sir Bors.
“I did not know that,” said Percival, “for I did not personally know the king, and I believe that he is gone again. But shall you all come to the castle now? For I am not allowed to be without it, and I would learn more of knighthood from you.”
“Young Percival,” said Sir Bors, “we all of us, and all men, are banned from that castle forever, by thy mother the queen.”
“Alas!” said Percival. “Then I shall come along with you, for to be a knight is my only interest in the world.”
“Thou canst not do that,” said Sir Bors, and the other knights agreed. “For until a boy is full grown he must honor the wishes of his parents. He must do that even if he is being raised as a girl, which practice would seem to oppose the scheme of Nature. But when he hath reached the size of manhood he can then do as he will, and if he is made of the stuff of men he can be as good as any.”
Now Percival was greatly disappointed, but he would have done anything these knights told him to do, so much did he admire them in their coats of steel and tall and strong as they were.
“And now we must leave thee,” said Sir Bors, and he and the others mounted their great stallions above which rose their long lances on the right side, and on the left they bore huge shields which were painted in bright colors with their devices, and they wore plumes in their helmets and from their belts hung swords with golden hilts in scabbards of gold. And
Percival had never seen so marvelous a sight in all his life.
But before they went away the strap broke on the shield of one of them, and it fell from his neck to the ground, and the knight would have dismounted to fetch it, but Percival ran there.
“Nay,” said this knight, who was named Sir Lamiel, “’tis too heavy for a boy to lift.”
But Percival was already there, and he easily lifted up the heavy shield, which was made of iron and weighed many pounds, and he gave it to the knight. And all of them marveled that he should be able to lift it.
And Sir Bors said, “Percival, thou art a stout boy. When thou hast become a man, come to the court of King Arthur and join the Round Table, for methinks I see in thee a fine knight indeed.”
And then they rode away, and Percival returned to the castle, where he found that his mother and his sister were in great consternation over his absence.
And when his mother saw him she embraced him weeping and then she waxed wroth, saying, “Wicked boy, to leave thy mother!”
“Mother,” said Percival. “I shall not disobey you further, but I tell you this, that when I am a man I shall become a knight.”
And his mother wept further, and she tore her hair. “So was thy father Pellinore killed,” she cried, “and so have all thy brothers gone away and left me alone. And perhaps it hath been unnatural to rear thee with thy sister as two girls, but better that than to prepare thee for fighting, for that is what knights do.” And then she composed herself, and she hoped she could keep Percival with her forever by misrepresenting his age.
And two years passed, and Percival was of the age of sixteen, and he had grown more than six feet high and he was of the strength of any two men, but his mother told him he was but twelve years old, and he had no way of knowing better, for he was kept from all other male persons and even his servants were all women, and they were ancient crones, and thereby his mother hoped to keep him always ignorant of sexual matters. And he was no longer even allowed to be alone with his sister, for she was fourteen and had become a woman.