Balin replied angrily, "Was it not better to know her for what she was and so be cured of loving her? I only did what I would want done for me."
"You have doubled my pain," Sir Garnish said. "You have caused me to kill what I loved most in the world and I cannot live," and suddenly he plunged his own bloody sword through his heart and fell dead beside the headless lovers.
The castle was quiet, and Balin knew that if he were found there he would be charged with murdering all three. He went quickly out of the castle and rode away among the forest trees and the thick darkness of his fate was on him and he felt the curtains of his life closing in on him so that he seemed to be riding in a mist of hopelessness.
After a time he came to a stone cross in the path and on it in letters of gold was written, LET NO KNIGHT RIDE ALONE ON THIS WAY. An old and white-haired man approached him as he read the words and he said, "Sir Balin, this is the boundary of your life. Turn back and you may save yourself." And the old man vanished.
Then Balin heard a hunting horn blowing the call that announces the death of a stag. And Balin said somberly, "That death call is for me. I am the quarry and I am not dead yet."
And suddenly a crowd of people clustered around him, a hundred lovely ladies and many knights in rich and glinting armor, and they welcomed him sweetly and petted and soothed him and led him to a castle nearby where they unarmed him and gave him a rich soft robe and led him to sit in the great hall where there was music and dancing and gaiety and brittle joy.
And when Balin was comforted the Lady of the Castle came to him and said, "Sir Knight with the Two Swords, it is the custom here that any passing stranger must joust with a knight who guards an island nearby."
Balin said, "It is an unhappy custom to force a knight to joust whether he wants to or not."
"It is only one knight. Is the great Balin afraid of one knight?"
"I don't think I am afraid, my lady," Balin said. "But a man who has traveled far can be weary and his horse worn out. My body is weary but my heart is fresh." And he said hopelessly, "If I must, I must, and I would be glad to find here my death and rest and peace."
Then a knight who stood nearby said, "I have looked at your armor. Your shield is small and the handles are loose. Take my shield. It is large and well made." And when Balin protested, the knight insisted, saying, "I beg you to take it for your safety."
Then Balin wearily armed himself and the knight brought his new and well-painted shield and forced it on him, and Balin was too weary and confused to argue, and he thought how his squire had said he was a headstrong knight and therein lay his trouble, and so he accepted the shield and mounted and rode slowly to a lake, in which there was a small island so near to the castle that it was overlooked by the battlements. And ladies and knights were gathered on the walls to see the combat.
A boat big enough for horse and man was waiting at the waterside and Balin entered it and was rowed to the island, where a damsel stood waiting for him, and she said, "Sir Balin, why have you left your shield with your own device?"
"I don't know why," said Balin. "I am ground down with misfortune and my judgment all askew. I am sorry I ever came to this place, but since I am here I may as well go on. I would be ashamed to turn back. No. I will accept what comes to me, my death or my life."
Then from long habit in the field he tested his weapons and tightened the girth of his saddle. Then he mounted and said a prayer for himself and closed the visor of his helmet and rode toward a little habitation on the island, and the knights and ladies watched him from the tower.
Then a knight in red armor and red horse trappings rode toward him. It was Sir Balan, and when he saw that his opponent wore two swords, he thought it was his brother, but when he saw the device on the shield, he knew it could not be.
In dreadful silence the two knights couched their spears and crashed together, and both spears struck true and did not shatter, and both knights were flung to the ground and lay stunned. Balin was sorely bruised by the fall and his body ached with weariness. And Balan was the first to recover. He rose to his feet and came toward Balin and Balin staggered up to face him.
Balan aimed the first stroke but Balin raised his shield and warded it, and striking underneath he pierced helmet, and he struck again with that unhappy sword and staggered Balan, and then they drew apart and fought warily, cutting and parrying until they were breathless.
Balin looked up at the towers and saw the ladies in bright dresses looking down on them and he closed with his opponent again. Then both drew new strength from battle rage and they slashed and cut ferociously and blades chopped through armor and blood poured from each one. A moment they rested and then returned to the deadly fight, each trying to kill quickly before their strength bled away; each cut mortal wounds in the body of the other until Balan staggered away and lay down, too weak to raise his hand.
Then Balin, leaning on his sword, said, "Who are you? I have never found anywhere a knight who could stand up to me."
And the fallen man said, "My name is Balan, and I am a brother of the famous knight Sir Balin."
When Balin heard this his head whirled and he fainted and fell to the ground. And when he came to his senses he crawled on hands and knees and took off Balan's helmet and saw his face so cut to pieces and covered with blood that he did not know that face. And Balin laid his head on his brother's breast and wept, and he cried, "Oh, my brother, my dear, dear brother. I have killed you and you have wounded me to death."
Balan said weakly, "I saw the two swords, but your shield had a device unknown to me."
"It was a knight of that castle who made me take his shield because he knew you would have recognized mine. If I could live I would destroy that castle and its evil customs."
"I wish that might be done," Balan said. "They made me fight here on the island, and when I killed the defender they forced me to be the champion and would not let me go. If you should live, my brother, they would keep you here to fight for their pleasure, and you could not escape over the water."
Then the boat brought the Lady of the Castle and her retainers to the island, and the brothers begged her to bury them together. "We came out of one womb," they said, "and we go to one grave."
And the lady promised that it would be done.
"Now send for a priest," Balin said. "We want the sacrament and to receive the blessed body of our Lord Jesus Christ." And it was done, and Balin said, "Write on our tomb how through ill fortune two brothers killed each other so that passing knights may pray for us."
Then Balan died, but Balin's life lingered with him till midnight, and in the darkness the brothers were buried together.
In the morning Merlin appeared and by his arts he raised a tomb over the brothers and on it in letters of gold he wrote their story.
And then Merlin prophesied many things that were to come: how Lancelot would come, and Galahad. And he foretold tragic matters: how Lancelot would kill his best friend Gawain.
And after Merlin had done many strange prophetic things, he went to King Arthur and told him the story of the brothers, and the king was saddened. "In all the world," he said, "I never knew two such knights."
Thus endeth the tale of Balin and Balan,
two Brethirne that were borne in Northumbirlonde,
that were two passynge good knyghtes
as ever were in those dayes.
Explicit
THE WEDDING OF KING ARTHUR
BECAUSE MERLIN'S COUNSEL HAD SO often proved valuable, it was King Arthur's habit to consult him in matters of war and of government, as well as in personal plans. So it was that he called Merlin to him one day and said, "You know that some of my barons are still rebellious. Perhaps it would be well if I took a wife to assure the succession to my crown."
"That is well reasoned," Merlin said.
"But I do not want to choose a queen without your advice."
Merlin said, "Thank you, my lord. One in your position should not be without a wife. Does
any lady please you above all others?"
"Yes," said Arthur. "I love Guinevere, the daughter of King Lodegrance of Camylarde. She is the fairest and noblest damsel I have seen. And did you not tell me that my father, King Uther, once gave a great round table to King Lodegrance?"
"That is true," said Merlin. "And surely Guinevere is as lovely as you say, but if you do not deeply love her I could find another good and beautiful enough to please you. But if your heart is set on Guinevere, you will not look at anyone else."
"That is the truth," said the king.
"If I should advise you that Guinevere is an unfortunate choice, would that change you?"
"No."
"Well then, if I should tell you that Guinevere will be unfaithful to you with your dearest and most trusted friend--"
"I would not believe you."
"Of course not," said Merlin sadly. "Every man who has ever lived holds tight to the belief that for him alone the laws of probability are canceled out by love. Even I, who know beyond doubt that my death will be caused by a silly girl, will not hesitate when that girl passes by. Therefore, you will marry Guinevere. You do not want advice--only agreement." Merlin sighed and said, "Very well then, give me an honorable retinue and I will make formal request of King Lodegrance and Guinevere."
And Merlin, properly attended, rode to Camylarde and asked that king for his daughter to be Arthur's queen.
Lodegrance said, "That so noble and brave and powerful a king as Arthur wishes my daughter for his wife is the best news I have ever heard. If he wished her dowered with lands, I would offer them, but he has lands enough. I shall send him a gift that will please him more than anything--the Table Round that Uther Pendragon gave to me. The table seats a hundred and fifty and I will send a hundred knights to serve him. I cannot furnish the full number because so many of my knights have been killed in the wars."
Then Lodegrance brought Guinevere to Merlin and also the Table Round, and a hundred knights richly armed and dressed, and the whole royal company took their way to London.
King Arthur was overjoyed and he said, "This fair lady is more than welcome to me, for I have loved her since I first saw her. And the hundred knights and the Table Round please me more than any riches."
And Arthur married Guinevere and crowned her his queen with all possible dignity, and there was feasting and joy in his court.
And after the ceremony Arthur stood by the great Round Table and he said to Merlin, "Search through all my kingdom and find fifty honorable brave and perfect knights to fill the fellowship of the Table Round."
And Merlin combed the country, but he found only twenty-eight and he brought them to the court. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury blessed the seats about the table. Merlin then said to the knights, "Go now to King Arthur and swear allegiance and do him homage." When they returned to the table each man found his name in letters of gold inscribed on his seat but two places had no names. As they sat at the Round Table young Gawain came into the court and asked a gift in honor of the marriage of Arthur and Guinevere.
"Ask it," said the king.
"I ask that you make me a knight," said Gawain.
"I will gladly," said Arthur. "You are my sister's son and I owe you every honor."
Then a poor man came into the court and with him a fair young man riding a skinny mare and the poor man said, "Where shall I find King Arthur?"
"There he is yonder," said a knight. "Do you want something of him?"
"Yes, I do. That is why I am here," and he approached the king and saluted him, saying, "Best of kings, I pray that Jesus may bless you. I have been told that now at the time of your marriage you will grant reasonable requests."
"That is so," said the king. "I have promised this and I will keep it, if your request does no harm to my dignity or my kingdom. What is your wish?"
"I thank you, my lord," the poor man said. "I ask that you may make my son here a knight."
"You ask a great thing," said Arthur. "What is your name?"
"Sir, my name is Aryes and I am a cowherd."
"Did you think of this?"
"No, sir," said Aryes, "I must tell you how it is. I have thirteen sons and all of the rest of them work as I tell them good sons should. But this boy will not do laborers' work. He is always shooting arrows and throwing spears and running to tournaments to look at knights and fighting, and day and night he gives me no rest, for he thinks only of knighthood."
The king turned to the young man. "What is your name?" he asked.
"Sir, my name is Torre."
The king looked at the boy and saw that he was handsome and tall and well made, and he said to Aryes, "Bring in your other sons."
When the brothers stood before Arthur he saw that they were laborers like Aryes and not like Torre in face and carriage. Then the king said to the cowherd, "Where is the sword with which to make him knight?"
Torre threw back his mantle and displayed his sword.
Arthur said, "Knighthood may not be granted unless it is requested. Draw your sword and ask."
Then Torre dismounted from his lean mare and drew his sword, and kneeling before the king, he begged to be knighted and to be joined to the fellowship of the Round Table.
"A knight I will make you," the king said, and he took the sword and struck Torre symbolically on the neck with the flat of the blade, saying, "Be a good knight. I pray to God that you may be. And if you prove brave and honorable you will be of the Round Table." And then the king addressed Merlin. "You know the future," he said. "Tell us whether Sir Torre will be a good man."
"Sir," said Merlin, "he should be. He comes of royal blood."
"How so?" the king asked.
"I will tell you," said the wizard. "Aryes the cowherd is not his father or any kin to him. King Pellinore is his father."
"That is not so," said Aryes angrily, and Merlin commanded, "Bring your wife here."
And when she came into the court she was a fair and well-made housewife and she spoke with dignity. She told the king and Merlin that when she was a young maiden she went out to milk the cows one evening, and she said, "A stern knight saw me and half by force took my virginity, and I conceived my son Torre. I had a greyhound with me and that knight took it away, saying he would keep my greyhound for love of me."
The cowherd said, "I wish this were not true, but I believe it now, for Torre has never been like me or like my other sons."
Sir Torre said angrily to Merlin, "You dishonor my mother, sir."
"No," Merlin said, "it is more honor than insult, for your true father is a good knight and a king. And he will advance both you and your mother. You were conceived before she was married to Aryes."
"That is the truth," said the wife.
And the cowherd said, "I will not grieve about it then if it happened before I knew her."
The next morning Sir Pellinore came to the court and Arthur told him the story and how he had made Sir Torre a knight. And when Pellinore looked at his son he was greatly pleased with him and he rejoiced.
Then Arthur made Gawain his nephew a knight, but Sir Torre was the first to be knighted at the feast when the fellowship of the Round Table was created.
Arthur looked at the great table and he asked Merlin, "How does it happen that there are vacant places with no names?"
And Merlin said, "Two of the seats may be held only by most honorable knights, but the last is the Siege Perilous. Only one knight shall sit there and he will be the most perfect ever to live. And if any other knight shall dare to take that place, he will be destroyed." Then Merlin took Sir Pellinore by the hand and led him to one of the vacant seats, and he said, "This is your place, sir. No one deserves it more."
Then Sir Gawain was filled with envy and with anger and he said softly to his brother Gaheris, "That knight who is so honored killed our father, King Lot. My sword is sharpened for him. I will kill him now."
"Be patient, brother," Gaheris advised. "This is not the time. I am only your squire now, but when
I am knighted we will kill him and later take our vengeance away from the court. We would suffer for it if we brought violence to this feast."
"Perhaps you are right," Gawain said. "We will wait our chance."
At last the preparations for the marriage of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere were completed, and the best and bravest and most beautiful of the realm poured into the royal city of Camelot. The knights and barons and their ladies gathered in St. Stephen's Church and there the wedding was celebrated with regal ceremony and religious solemnity. That being done, the feast was called, and in the court the guests and retainers were seated each in the place proper to his position in the world.
Then Merlin said, "Let everyone sit quietly and do not move, for now begins an age of marvels, and you will see strange happenings."
Then all sat motionless in their places as though frozen and the great hall was silent and waiting. The preparing was over, Arthur was king, the Table Round existed, and its fellowship of courage and courtesy and honor sat each in his place--the king above, rigid and still, and Merlin beside him listening. They might have been asleep as they have been and will be many times over, sleeping but listening for the need, the fear, the distress, or the pure and golden venture that can call them awake. King Arthur and his knights quiet and waiting in the great hall at Camelot.
Then came the sharp quick beat of pointed hooves on the flagstones and a white stag bounded into the hall pursued by a pure white hound bitch and followed by a pack of black hounds baying on the scent. The stag leaped past the Round Table with the bitch on his flank, and as he raced by a sideboard the white hound fastened on his flank and tore out a piece of flesh. In pain the white stag leaped in the air and overturned a seated knight. And with that the knight caught the bitch and carried her from the hall in his arms, and he mounted his horse and rode away, carrying the brachet with him, while the white stag bounded away and disappeared with the black pack baying after him.