The Death of King Arthur (19 page)

‘Sir Kay.'

‘Oh. I know of you. You are believed to be the most ribald and evil-tongued of all knights. You are valiant enough, but you have enough venom to kill a viper.'

They rode together until they came to a bridge, where was stationed a knight who would not let them pass until one of them jousted with him. Sir Kay responded to the challenge, but he took a fall. The knight's name, by the way, was Sir Tor.

The two men then made their way to a lodging; Sir Tor followed them, and joined them for supper. Sir Kay and Sir Tor, drinking deeply, then began to curse and scorn the knights of Cornwall. ‘They are boasters,' Kay said, ‘foolish beyond all measure.' Tristram listened to them in silence, revolving many thoughts in his head.

The next morning he rode with them. He took pleasure in jousting with them both, defeating them easily. ‘That blow,' he said to himself, ‘was for Cornwall.'

Tor went up to Kay. ‘What is this knight's name?' he asked him.

‘I do not know as yet. Come with me. We will ask him.'

So they rode after him, and found him sitting by a well; he had taken off his helmet, and was using it to scoop up water. As soon as he saw them he put on his helmet, and offered to fight. ‘No,' Sir Kay said, ‘we have already jousted with you. We have come to ask your name. On your honour as a knight, you must tell us.'

‘Since you have asked, my fair lords, I will answer. My name is Sir Tristram de Liones. I am the nephew of the King of Cornwall.'

‘We are fortunate to have met you,' Sir Tor said. ‘I apologize for our harsh words last night. If we had known you were in our company, we would not have insulted you. But enough of that. Let me give you an invitation. We belong to a fellowship that would be pleased to greet you. You are the one knight in the world whom the Round Table would welcome.'

‘God thank you all,' Tristram replied. ‘But I feel as yet that I am not ready for your fellowship. I have not performed deeds that would make me worthy of membership.'

‘If you are really Sir Tristram,' Sir Kay said, ‘then you are too modest. Your reputation precedes you. You are a man of renown.' They spoke a little more, and then went their separate ways.

King Arthur himself had come to Wales in order to assert his rule over that country. He took his court to a great castle in Cardiff, where the citizens did him homage. But there arrived a less welcome visitor. A sorceress, by the name of Aunowre, had come to the castle with the intention of luring the king into her bed. This sorceress had loved him for a long time, and now wished to lie with him. ‘Let me greet you in my own dwelling,' she said to Arthur. ‘I live in a high tower that was built by giants many hundreds of years ago.'

‘Where is this ancient tower, lady?'

‘In the Perilous Forest, sire.'

‘The Perilous Forest? I have heard of that place. I have always wished to visit it.'

So he took up her invitation. When the king was gone, many of his knights rode after him in case of mischief. Among them were Sir Lancelot and Sir Braundiles. The lady took Arthur to her tower and entreated him to make love to her; but Arthur, remembering the grace of his lady, Guinevere, refused. None of the sorceress's tricks or spells could persuade him. So she took him out riding every day with her own knights within the forest, and waited for an opportunity to slay him secretly. Now that he had rejected her, her love had turned to thoughts of revenge.

Nineve, once the servant of the Lady of the Lake, had become by means of her power and wisdom the new Lady; there must always be a Lady of the Lake, ever fresh and ever renewed, or the waters will leave the land to dust and weariness. The Lady, always a good friend to Arthur, understood by means of sorcery that he was likely to be destroyed by Aunowre. So she made her way to the Perilous Forest in order to warn Sir Lancelot or Sir Tristram of the danger to their king. She could see in her enchanted mirror that they were riding in that place. Only these two knights might save him. She rode into a field, close by the forest, where she saw Sir Tristram emerging from the trees. ‘Ah, good knight,' she said, ‘we are well met. You must seize the moment. On this day, two hours from now, there will be committed the most destructive deed that has ever been done in this land.'

‘Fair lady, how can I help?'

‘Come with me. I will show you the most noble man in the world in great peril of his life.'

‘Willingly. Who is this noble man?'

‘None other than your sovereign, Arthur.'

‘God defend him from any distress!'

They galloped into the forest, until they came to a castle made entirely of granite stone. Under the walls of this stronghold two knights were attacking a third. They had forced him to the ground and, when they unlaced his helmet, Tristram saw that King Arthur himself was at their mercy. The sorceress was standing beside them; she quickly took up Arthur's sword and was about to behead him.

‘Traitors!' Tristram screamed out. ‘Stay away from the king!' He rode over and broke the backs of both knights with his spear. The sorceress uttered a scream and ran for cover among the trees.

The Lady of the Lake then cried out to Arthur, ‘Do not let that wicked woman escape!'

The king chased after Aunowre, and beheaded her with the sword he snatched from her. The Lady of the Lake took the head and tied it to the strings of her saddle. It was a fine trophy.

Sir Tristram now went over to the king, and helped him to mount his horse. When the king thanked him and asked for his name, Tristram replied that he was a poor knight adventurer. Nothing more. He accompanied Arthur through the forest, until the king found one of the knights who had been searching for him.

‘Will you not tell me your name?' he asked Tristram as he was about to depart.

‘Not at this time,' Sir Tristram replied.

The valiant knight now made his way back to the forester's cottage, where he had left Kehadius wounded, and to his delight found his companion restored to health. ‘Let us find our boat,' Tristram told him. ‘We will make our way over the waves to Cornwall.'

When a message was brought to the court of King Mark that Tristram had landed, Isolde fainted for joy. ‘Bring him to me,' she asked the seneschal, Sir Dinas. ‘I must speak to him or my heart will break.' So as soon as they arrived Dinas led Tristram and Kehadius to the private chambers of Isolde. No tongue can tell, no pen define, no heart reveal, the joy between Tristram and Isolde. No book can begin to describe the love between them.

This was the first time that Kehadius had seen the queen, and he was so enamoured of her that he could find no rest or relief. From that time forward he sent her poems and songs. She pitied him and, out of a misplaced sense of compassion, she sent a letter of comfort to him. But you will see that, in the end, Kehadius died for love of her.

Tristram himself was lodged at the queen's command in a turret of finely dressed stone, where she visited him as often as she could. One day he came into her private chamber with Sir Kehadius, when by chance he found the letters of Kehadius and the pitying reply of the queen. He approached her in a rage. ‘Madam,' he said, ‘here is a letter that has been sent to you. And here is the letter you sent in reply. Alas, lady, did you not know how much I loved you? Did you not think of the lands and treasures that I have forsaken for you? I am heartbroken that you have betrayed me.'

Then he turned to Kehadius. ‘As for you, sir, I have brought you out of Brittany. I saved the lands of your father, the king. I married your sister, Isolde of the White Hands, for the goodness she showed to me. By my faith as a knight, she is still pure and untouched. And this is how you repay me! But know this, Sir Kehadius. For all your falsehood and treason, I will have my revenge.' He drew out his sword. ‘Prepare yourself.'

At the sight of his sword, Isolde swooned. When Sir Kehadius saw Tristram come for him, he had no choice. He jumped out of the bay window of the chamber, and landed on the earth not far from a garden seat where King Mark was playing chess. The king was surprised. ‘Fellow, who are you? And why have you fallen from your window?'

‘My lord king,' Kehadius replied, ‘I fell asleep in the window above your head. I slipped and fell as I slumbered.'

Tristram would have followed him, but he did not want to be caught in the queen's chamber. It would compromise her too badly. He waited to see if anyone would discover him but, when he found himself safe, he took horse and rode through the gates of Tintagel towards the forest. On the way he met one of his fellows, Sir Fergus, who agreed to accompany him. Now that he was beyond Tintagel, he fell a victim to his sorrow. He was bowed down with violent grief, and for three days could not be comforted. He sent Sir Fergus to the court, in an effort to find out news of Isolde. On his way there, Fergus encountered a lady of the court who had been sent to find Tristram and plead with him to return. ‘How is he?' she asked him.

‘Almost out of his mind.'

‘That is bad news. Where shall I find him?'

‘Take that path. You will soon hear him sighing.' Fergus went on his way and, when he arrived at the court of King Mark, he learned that Isolde was confined to her bed. She was sick with a great sorrow.

When the lady found Tristram she wept with pity at his plight, but there was no way of helping him. The more she tried, the more he resented her. He wished to be alone with his sorrow. After three days, he rode away. But she followed him, bearing meat and drink. He would not eat. He left her again, and rode on weeping. By chance he came to a castle. The lady of the castle came out and recognized him. He had once come to this place and, in sheer joy of spirit, had begun playing his harp among the trees. She had been entranced by the music, and begged Tristram to give her the instrument. He gave it to her willingly enough for, as he said, music reveals the harmonies of the world. Now she offered him wine, food and rest. ‘I still have the harp you gave me,' she said. ‘Will you play it for me? You bear the palm for music in all the world.'

Gently he put the harp aside. He ate very little. But that night he took up the harp and, through his tears, he played one or two songs. On that same night he took off his armour and untied his horse. He went out into the wilderness, wailing, and broke through the branches and bushes. There were some days when he took up the harp. There were other days when he wandered into the wood. When the lady of the castle could not find him, she sat beneath a tree and played the harp herself. He would come to her, and listen to the music.

So passed three months. At the end of this period he ran off, and the lady did not know what had become of him. He was now all but naked, and he was wretchedly thin. He joined the company of some shepherds and herdsmen, who clipped his hair with their shears so that he looked like a fool. They shared their meat and drink with him but, if he displeased them, they beat him with their staffs.

It so happened that, one day, Sir Dagonet – the fool of King Mark – rode out with two of his squires for company. They took a path into the forest and after a while came upon a well where Tristram was accustomed to sit. The weather was hot, and they dismounted so that they might drink the water of the well. Their horses wandered off. By chance Tristram came upon them and, quick as a flash, he ducked Sir Dagonet and his men in the well. The shepherds were delighted.

Dagonet was furious and vowed to be revenged upon the shepherds who, as he believed, had set a poor wretch upon him and his companions. So they searched for the shepherds in the wood and, once they had found them, they beat them soundly with their swords. Tristram saw all this, and rushed out of the undergrowth. He seized Dagonet and hurled him to the ground. He snatched up the fallen man's sword, and with it beheaded one of the squires. The other squire escaped. Then Tristram, with the sword in his hand, ran howling through the trees like a man possessed.

Sir Dagonet, on recovering his senses, went back to King Mark and told him that a wild man was dwelling in the wood. ‘Do not go near the well,' he warned him. ‘That is where he came for me. I am your fool, but the greater fool gained the mastery over me.'

‘That will be Sir Matto le Breune,' the king replied. ‘He lost his mind when he lost his lady. There is much to pity in this world.'

But pity does not run in the hardened heart. Sir Tristram's cousin Sir Andred wished to take over Tristram's lands. So he persuaded his lover to spread it abroad that she was with Tristram at the time of his death. She told King Mark that she had buried him beside the well, and that before his death he had begged the king to award all of his lands to Andred. When the king heard that Tristram was dead he wept with shame and grief. When Isolde was told the news, she cried out. She came close to madness. She decided to kill herself, as she could not live without Tristram.

Secretly she procured a sword and took it into her garden. There she fastened it to an apple tree, at breast height, with the blade pointing outward. It was her intention to run against it, and thereby end her life. Yet King Mark was watching her. He walked softly towards her as she kneeled in prayer.

‘Sweet Lord Jesus,' she whispered, ‘have mercy on me, a poor sinner. Sir Tristram was my first love, and he will be my last. I cannot exist without him.'

The king then came up to her, and took her in his arms. He placed her in a high tower, under strict supervision, where she remained for many months close to death.