When it was reported, King Arthur went to his wounded enemy and he said, "Sir, you are a welcome sight to me. By what adventure have you come?"
"By a bitter adventure, my lord."
"Who took you?" the king asked.
"One who is called the Knight with the Two Swords and his brother. They overturned me and swept away my bodyguard."
Merlin broke in, "Now I can tell you, sir. It was that Balin who drew the cursed sword and his brother, Balan. Two better knights you will never find. The pity is that their fate is closing in and they have not long to live."
"He has put me in debt to him," said the king. "And I do not deserve kindness from Balin."
"He will do much more for you than this, my lord," said Merlin. "But I bring you news. You must prepare your knights for battle. Tomorrow before noon the forces of Royns's brother Nero will attack you. You have much to do now and I will leave you."
Then King Arthur mustered his knights quickly and rode toward the castle Terrabil. Nero was ready for him in the field with forces that outnumbered those of the king. Nero led the vanguard and he waited only for the arrival of King Lot with his army. But he waited in vain, for Merlin had gone to King Lot and held him enthralled with tales of wonder and of prophecy, while Arthur launched his attack on Nero. Sir Kay fought so well that day that the memory of his deeds has lived forever. And Sir Hervis de Revel of the line of Sir Thomas Malory distinguished himself, as did Sir Tobinus Streat de Montroy. Into the battle Sir Balin and his brother raged so fiercely that it was said of them that they were either angels from heaven or devils from hell, depending on which side you held. And Arthur in the vanguard saw the brothers' actions and praised them above all his knights. And the king's forces prevailed and drove the enemy from the field and destroyed Nero's power.
A messenger rode to King Lot and reported the battle lost and Nero killed while Lot had listened to Merlin's tales. King Lot said, "I have been bewitched by this Merlin. If I had been there Arthur could not have won the day. This magician has fooled me and held me like a child listening to stories."
Merlin said, "I know that today one king must die, and much as I regret it, I would rather it were you than King Arthur," and Merlin vanished in the air.
Then King Lot gathered his leaders. "What should I do?" he asked. "Is it better to sue for peace or to fight? If Nero is defeated, half our army is gone."
A knight said, "King Arthur's men are weary with battle and their horses exhausted, while we are fresh. If we attack him now we have the advantage."
"If you all agree, we will fight," said King Lot. "I hope that you will do as well as I will try to do."
Then King Lot galloped to the field and charged Arthur's men, but they held firm and did not give ground.
King Lot, out of shame for his failure, held the forefront of his knights and fought like a devil raging, for he hated Arthur above all men. Once he had been the king's friend wedded to Arthur's half-sister. But when Arthur in ignorance seduced his friend's wife and got her with the child Mordred, King Lot's loyalty turned to hatred and he strove desperately to overcome his once friend.
As Merlin had foretold, Sir Pellinore, who once overthrew Arthur at the Fountain in the Forest, had become the king's loyal friend and fought in the first line of his knights. Sir Pellinore forced his horse through the press around King Lot and aimed a great swinging sword stroke at him. The blade glanced off and killed Lot's horse, and as he went down Pellinore struck him on the helm and drove him to the ground.
When King Lot's men saw him fallen, they gave up the fight and tried to flee, and many were taken and more were killed in flight.
When the bodies of the dead were gathered together, twelve great lords were found who had died serving Nero and King Lot. These were carried to St. Stephen's Church in Camelot for burial, while the lesser knights were interred nearby under a huge stone.
King Arthur buried Lot in a rich tomb separately, but the twelve great lords he placed together and raised a triumphal monument over them. Merlin by his arts made figures of the twelve lords in gilded copper and brass, in attitudes of defeat, and each figure held a candle which burned night and day. Above these effigies, Merlin placed a statue of King Arthur with a drawn sword held over his enemies' heads. And Merlin prophesied that the candles would burn until Arthur's death and at that moment would go out; and he made other prophecies that day of things to come.
Soon after this, Arthur, wearied with campaigns and governing and sick of the dark, deep-walled rooms of castles, ordered his pavilion set up in a green meadow outside the walls where he might rest and recover his strength in the quiet and the sweet air. He laid himself down on a camp bed to sleep, but he had not closed his eyes when he heard a horse approaching and saw a knight riding near who spoke words of complaint and sorrow to himself.
As he passed the pavilion, the king called out to him, saying, "Come to me, good knight, and tell me the reason for your sadness."
The knight answered, "What good could that do? You cannot help me." And he rode on toward the castle of Meliot.
Then the king tried to sleep again, but his curiosity had risen to keep him awake, and as he pondered, Sir Balin rode near, and when he saw King Arthur he dismounted and saluted his lord.
"You are always welcome," said the king. "But particularly now. A short time ago a knight went past and he was crying out in sorrow, and he would not answer when I asked the cause. If you wish to serve me, ride after this knight and bring him to me whether he wishes to come or not, for I am curious."
"I will bring him to you, my lord," Sir Balin said, "or else he will be more sad than he is."
And Balin mounted and cantered after the knight, and after a time he found him sitting under a tree with a damsel beside him. Sir Balin said, "Sir Knight, you must come with me to King Arthur and tell him the cause of your sorrow."
"That I will not do," said the knight. "I would be in great danger if I did and you would gain nothing."
"Please come with me, sir," said Balin. "If you refuse I must fight you, and I don't want to."
"I have told you my life is in danger. Will you promise to protect me?"
"I will protect you or die in the attempt," said Balin. And with that the knight mounted his horse and they rode away, leaving the damsel under the tree. As they came to King Arthur's tent, they heard the sound of a charging war horse but saw nothing, and suddenly the knight was hurled from his saddle by an invisible force, and he lay dying on the ground with a great spear through his body. And he gasped, "That was my danger--a knight named Garlon who has the art of invisibility. I was under your protection and you have failed me. Take my horse. He is better than yours. And go back to the damsel--she will lead you to my enemy and perhaps you may avenge me."
Balin cried, "On my honor and my knighthood I will. I swear it before God."
And with that the knight, Sir Harleus le Berbeus, died, and Balin pulled the truncheon of the spear from his body and rode sadly away, for he was grieved that he had not protected the knight as he had promised, and he understood at last why Arthur had been enraged at the death of the Lady of the Lake under his protection. And Balin felt a darkness of misfortune hanging over him. He found the damsel in the forest and gave her the truncheon of the spear that had killed her lover, and she carried it always as a sign and a remembrance. She led Sir Balin on the quest he had accepted from the dying knight.
In the forest they came upon a knight fresh from hunting, who, seeing Balin's sorrow-clouded face, asked the reason for his pain and Balin curtly answered that he did not wish to speak of it.
The knight resented the discourtesy, saying, "If I were armed against men instead of stags, you would answer me."
Balin answered wearily, "I have no reason not to tell you," and he recounted his strange and fatal history. The knight was so moved by the tale that he begged leave to join him in the quest of vengeance. His name was Sir Peryne de Monte Belyarde, and he went to his house nearby and armed himself and
joined them on their way. And as they rode past a little lonely hermitage and chapel in the forest, there came again the sound of charging hoofs and Sir Peryne fell with a spear through his body.
"Your story was true," he said. "The invisible enemy has slain me. You are a man fated to cause the destruction of your loved friends." And Sir Peryne died of his wounds.
Balin said in sorrow, "My enemy is something I cannot see. How can I challenge the invisible?"
Then the hermit helped him to carry the dead into the chapel and they buried him in pity and honor.
And afterward Balin and the damsel rode on until they came to a castle with strong defenses. Balin crossed the drawbridge and entered first, and as he did the portcullis rattled down and held him prisoner, with the damsel outside, where many men attacked her with knives to kill her. Then Balin ran up to the top of the wall and he leaped into the moat far below, and the water broke his fall and saved him from injury. He crawled from the moat and drew his sword, but the attackers drew away and told him that they only followed the custom of the castle. They explained that the lady of the castle had long suffered a dreadful wasting sickness and the only cure for it was a silver dish of blood from the virgin daughter of a king and so it was their custom to take blood from every damsel who passed that way.
Balin said, "I am sure she will give you some of her blood, but you need not kill her to get it." Then he helped to lance her vein and they caught it in a silver dish, but it did not cure the lady, wherefore it was thought that the damsel did not fulfill one or the other or both of the requirements. But because of the offering they were made welcome and given good cheer, and they rested for the night and in the morning took their way again. Four days they continued without adventure, and at last lodged in the house of a gentleman. And as they sat at their supper, they heard moans of pain from a chamber nearby and Balin asked about it.
"I will tell you about it," the gentleman said. "Recently at a jousting I rode against the brother of King Pelham. Twice I struck him from his horse and he was angry and threatened revenge against someone near to me. Then he made himself invisible and wounded my son, whom you hear crying out in pain. He will not be well until I have killed that evil knight and taken his blood."
"I know him well, but I have never seen him," Balin said. "He has killed two of my knights in the same way, and I would rather meet him in combat than have all the gold in the realm."
"I will tell you how to meet him," said the host. "His brother, King Pelham, has proclaimed a great feast within twenty days. And no knight may attend unless he brings his wife or his mistress. The king's brother, Garlon, is sure to be there."
"Then I will be there also," Balin said.
And in the morning the three started their journey and they rode for fifteen days until they came to Pelham's country, and they came to his castle on the day the feast began, and they stabled their horses and went to the great hall, but Balin's host was refused because he had brought neither wife nor paramour. But Balin was welcomed and taken to a chamber where he unarmed and bathed himself and servants brought him a rich robe to wear to the feasting. But then they asked him to leave his sword with his armor; Balin refused. He said, "In my country a knight must keep his sword with him always. If I cannot take it, I may not feast." Reluctantly they let him take his weapon, and he went into the great hall and sat among the knights, with his lady beside him.
Then Balin asked, "Is there a knight in this court named Garlon, brother of the king?"
"There he is now," said a man nearby. "Look, he is the one with the dark skin. He is a strange man and he has killed many knights because he has the secret of invisibility."
Balin stared at Garlon and considered what he should do, and he thought, "If I kill him now, I will not be able to escape, but if I do not I may never see him again, because he will not be visible."
Garlon had noticed Balin staring at him and it angered him. He arose from his place and came to Balin and slapped him in the face with the back of his hand and said, "I do not like you staring at me. Eat your meat, or do anything else you came to do."
"I will do what I came to do," Balin said and he drew his sword and cut off Garlon's head. Then he said to his lady, "Give me the truncheon that killed your love," and he took it from her and drove it through Garlon's body, crying, "You killed a good knight with that. Now it sticks in you," and he called to his friend outside the hall, "Here is blood enough to cure your son."
The assembled knights had sat astonished, but now they leaped to their feet to set on Balin. King Pelham stood up from the high table, saying, "You have killed my brother. You must die."
And Balin taunted him, "Very well--do it yourself if you are brave enough."
"You are right," Pelham said. "Stand back, you knights. I will kill him myself for my brother's sake."
Pelham took a huge battle ax from the wall and advanced and aimed a blow and Balin parried with his sword, but the heavy ax broke his sword in two so that he was weaponless. Then Balin ran from the hall with Pelham following. He went from chamber to chamber looking for a weapon but he could not find one and always he could hear King Pelham following.
At last Balin came to a chamber and saw a wonder. The room was hung with cloth of gold figured with mystic holy symbols and a bed was curtained with marvelous curtains. On the bed under a cover woven of golden thread lay the perfect body of an ancient and venerable man, while on a golden table beside the bed there stood a strangely wrought spear, a haft of wood, a lean iron shank, and a small, pointed head.
Balin heard Pelham's pursuing steps and he seized the spear and drove it into the side of his enemy. And at that moment an earthquake rumbled and the walls of the castle cracked outward and the roof fell in and Balin and King Pelham rolled in the tumbling rubble to the ground and they lay unconscious, pinned under stones and pieces of timber. Inside the castle most of the gathered knights were killed by the falling roof.
After a time Merlin appeared and cleared the stones from Balin and brought him to his senses. And he brought him a horse and told him to leave the country as quickly as he could.
But Balin said, "Where is my damsel?"
"She lies dead under the fallen castle," Merlin said.
"What caused this ruin?" Balin asked.
"You have fallen on a mystery," Merlin said. "Not long after Jesus Christ was crucified, Joseph, a merchant of Arimathea who gave our Lord his sepulcher, came sailing to this land bringing the sacred cup of the Last Supper filled with the holy blood and also that spear with which Longinus the Roman pierced the side of Jesus on the Cross. And Joseph brought these holy things to the Island of Glass in Avalon and there he built a church, the first in all this land. That was Joseph's body on the bed and that Longinus's spear, and with it you wounded Pelham, Joseph's descendant, and it was the dolorous stroke I spoke of long ago. And because you have done this, a blight of sickness and hunger and despair will spread over the land."
Balin cried, "It is not fair. It is not just."
"Misfortune is not fair, fate is not just, but they exist just the same," said Merlin, and he bade Balin farewell. "For," he said, "we will not meet again in this world."
Then Balin rode away through the blighted land and he saw people dead and dying on every side, and the living cried after him, "Balin, you are the cause of this destruction. You will be punished for it." And Balin in anguish pushed his horse to leave the destroyed country. He rode eight days, fleeing from the evil, and he was glad when he passed out of the blighted land and into a fair, untroubled forest. His spirit awakened and threw off its gloomy garments. Above the tops of the trees in a fair valley he saw the battlements of a slender tower and turned his horse toward it. Beside the tower a great horse was tied to a tree and on the ground a handsome, well-made knight sat mourning aloud to himself.
And because he had given death and suffering to so many, Balin wished to make amends. He said to the knight, "God save you. Why are you sad? Tell me and I will try my best to
help you."
The knight said, "Telling you would give me more pain than I have already."
Then Balin walked a little apart and looked at the tethered horse and its equipment, and he heard the knight say, "Oh, my lady, why have you broken your promise to meet me here at noon. You gave me my sword, a deadly gift, for I may kill myself with it for love of you." And the knight drew his shining sword from its sheath.
Then Balin moved quickly and grasped his wrist.
"Let me go or I will kill you," cried the knight.
"There is no good in that. I know now about your lady and I promise to bring her to you if you will tell me where she is."
"Who are you?" the knight demanded.
"Sir Balin."
"I know your fame," said the knight. "You are the Knight with the Two Swords, and you are said to be one of the bravest of knights."
"What is your name?"
"I am Sir Garnish of the Mountain. I am a poor man's son, but because I served well in battle, Duke Harmel took me under his protection and knighted me and gave me lands. It is his daughter I love and I thought she loved me."
"How far away is she?" Balin asked.
"Only six miles."
"Then why do you sit here mourning? Let us go to her and find the reason for her failure."
Then they rode together until they came to a well-built castle with high walls and a moat. And Balin said, "Remain here and wait for me. I will go into the castle and try to find her."
Balin went into the castle and found no one about. He searched through the halls and the rooms and at last came to a lady's chamber, but her bed was empty. He looked from her window to a lovely little garden within the walls and on the grass under a laurel tree he saw the lady and a knight lying on a green silken cloth, and they had fallen asleep in a close embrace, their heads on a pillow of grass and sweet herbs. The lady was fair but her lover was an ugly man, hairy and heavy and uncouth.
Then Balin went quietly out through chambers and halls and at the castle gate he told Sir Garnish what he had seen and led him softly to the garden. And when the knight saw his lady in the arms of another, his heart drummed with passion and his veins burst and blood streamed from his nose and mouth. In his blinding rage he drew his sword and cut off the heads of the sleeping lovers. And suddenly the rage was gone and he was sick and weak. And he blamed Balin bitterly, saying, "You have brought sorrow to me on sorrow. If you had not brought me here, I would not have known."