Part 15

Perceval prayed daily for strength to withstand the poison of their tongues, and evermore he held himself humble and gentle, and thought much of his widowed mother in her lonely home in the northern wastes, and of the promise he had made her. Sometimes he thought of Angharad, how beautiful she was, and how sad it was that she had so cold a heart, and was so cruel in her words.

Anon the witch Domna came to him, and said that he had now learned all that she could teach him, and he must go and prove himself against greater powers than he had ever yet known. If he prevailed not in that battle, the ladies of the Castle of Weeds would become the prey of the witches, and greater power of evil would they have in the world than ever before. Then she gave him a horse and a full suit of black armour.

So Perceval took the horse, and armed himself and rode forth. And anon he came to a hermit's cell beside a ruined chapel, and he alighted and went into the chapel, and stripped himself, and laid all his armour, his lance, and his sword, before the high altar.

Prayerfully he gave his arms to the service of God, and devoted them one by one to do only knightly and pure deeds, to rescue the oppressed and the weak, to put down the proud, and to cherish the humble.

And as he ended praying, the armour stirred of itself, and though it had been black before, now did the darkness fade from it, and it all became a pure white. While he marvelled, a faint light glowed over hauberk, helm, shield, sword and lance, and there was an exceeding sweet savour wafted through the place. And ghostily, as in a silver mist, he saw above the altar the likeness of a spear, and beside it a dish or salver. And at the wondrous sight his breath stayed on his lips. Then slowly the vision faded from his sight.

He arrayed himself in his armour that was now of a dazzling white, and he rode forth and thought to go towards Camelot, where was the court of King Arthur. But he felt that some power drew him aside through the desolate ways of a hoar forest, where all the trees were ancient and big, and all bearded with long moss.

In a little while he saw a vast castle reared upon a rock in the midst of the forest. He rode up to it, and marvelled that it was all so quiet. Then he beat upon the door with the butt of his lance, and the door opened, and he entered into the wide dark hall. On the pallets under the wall he saw men lying as if dead. And in the high seat at the head of the hall sat a king, old and white, but richly clothed, and he seemed dead like all the rest. All were clad in garments of an ancient kind, as if they had lived and died a thousand years agone, yet had not rotted into dust. On the floor, about the wide heap of ashes where the fire had burned, the hounds still lay as if asleep, and on the posts the hawks sat stiff upon their perches.

Much did Perceval marvel at this strange sight, but most of all he marvelled to see where a shaft of light from a narrow window gleamed across the hall full upon a shield hung on the fire-pillar beside the high seat in which the king sat like one dead.

Perceval caused his horse to pick its way through the hall, and he approached the shield. And he saw that it was of shining white, but whiter than the whiteness of his own, and in the centre thereof was a heart. As he sat looking thereat, he marvelled to see that the heart seemed to stir as if it were alive, and began to throb and move as if it beat. Then the whiteness of the shield began to dazzle like to a light that mortal eyes could not bear.

He lifted his hand and took the shield by its strap from the peg on which it hung, and as he did so, a great sigh arose from within the hall, as if at one time many sleepers awoke. And looking round, he saw how all the men that had seemed dead were now on their knees, with bent heads and folded hands as if in prayer.

The king in the high seat stirred and sat upright, and looked at Perceval with a most sweet smile.

'The blessing of God is upon thee, young White Knight,' said he, 'and now is my watch and ward all ended, and with these my faithful companions may I go.'

'Tell me, sir,' said Perceval, 'what means this?'

'I am Marius,' said the king, 'and I was that Roman soldier who took pity of the gentle Saviour dying in His agony upon the rood. And I helped to take Him from the cross. For my pity did God, whom till then I had not known, deal with me in marvellous wise. And this shield was mine, and a holy hermit in a desert of Syria did bless it, and prophesy concerning it and me. I came to this land of Britain when it was full of evil men, warring fiercely together, and all in heathen darkness. I preached the Word of Christ, I and my fellows that came with me, until the heathens rose up and would slay me. And by that time I was wearied and very old, and wished to die. Yet I sorrowed, wondering whether God would do naught to rescue these people from this slavery to the old evil law. Then a man of God came to me at night, a man of marvel, and he caused this castle to be builded in this ancient wood, and he put my shield upon the post, and bade me and my dear friends sleep. 'For,' said he, 'thou hast earned thy sleep, and others shall carry on thy work and reveal the mercy of God and his Christ to these poor heathens, and they shall turn to God wholly. And no evil shall be able to break in upon thy repose. But when, in the distant future, men's hearts are turning to evil again, one that is of the three white knights shall come and take this shield, to ward him in the great battle against evil, and then thou and all that are with thee shall have the restfulness of death thou hast merited. Go then, thou good knight,' went on King Marius, 'fight the good fight against that thing of evil whom the good man spoke of, and may my shield encompass thee and ever guard thee.'

Perceval took the shield and left his own. Turning, he rode back between lines of silent forms bent in prayer. He went forth into the forest some little way, and heard from the castle the singing of a joyful hymn. And, looking back, he saw that the castle had vanished. But still above him and about him was the sound of singing, of a sweetness indescribable, as if they sang who had gained all that they desired.

Then Perceval rode forward till it was night; but never could he get sight of castle or knight's hold or hermit's cell where he could be houselled for the night. So he abode in the forest that night, and when he had prayed he slept beside his good horse until it was day.

Just before the dawn he awoke to the sound of a great rushing wind all about him. Yet marvel it was to see that the trees in that hoar wood did not wave their branches, but all were still.

Then he was aware of a sweet savour which surrounded him, and anon a gentle voice spoke out of the darkness.

'Fair White Knight,' said the voice, 'it is ordained of thee that thou goest to the lands of the King Pellam in the north, where an evil power seeks to turn men from the New Law which Christ brought, and to make them cleave to the Old Law with its cruelty and evil tortures. And there at the Castle of the Circlet thou shalt fight a battle for the Saviour of the world. And whether thou shalt win through all, none know as yet. But in thy purity, thy humility, is thy strength. Fare thee well!'

Much moved at these words, Perceval knelt and prayed, and then, as the dawn filtered through the trees, he mounted his horse and began his long journey to the north.

On the seventh day he crossed a plain, and saw far in the north where the smoke as of fires rose into the clouds, and here and there he saw the fierce red gleam of flames. And he passed through a ford, and then he entered a land all black and desolate, with the bodies of the dead beside the way, unburied, and the houses all broken or burned. In other places the grass and weeds grew over the hearths of desolated homes, and wild beasts made their lairs where homely folk seemed lately to have lived their simple happy lives.

No man or child could be seen anywhere to ask what all this might mean. But one day, as he walked his horse beside a brook, over the long grass, he came upon a poor half-starved peasant who had not strength to run. And the man knelt before him, and bared his breast, and said, 'Strike, sir knight, and end my misery!'

But Perceval raised him in his arms and kissed him, and gave him bread and wine from his scrip, and when the poor man was revived, Perceval asked him what his words meant.

'Ah, Sir White Knight!' said the man, whose tears fell as he spoke, 'surely thou art an angel of heaven, not of the pit, such as have ravened and slaughtered throughout this fair land since good King Pellam was struck by the Dolorous Stroke that Balin made. For of that stroke came all our misery. The sacred relics of the Crucifixion fled our land, our king sickened of a malady that naught could heal, our crops rotted, and our cattle died. Yet did some among us strive to live and do as brave men should in all adversity. But into the land came an evil and a pagan knight, the knight of the Dragon, and he willed that all should scorn and despise the good Christ, and should turn to the old gods of the standing stones and the oaken groves. And those that would not he slew, and their folk he trampled underfoot, and their herds and fields he destroyed and desolated. And I, fair lord, have lost my dear wife and my wee bairns, and I wonder why I fled and kept my life, remembering all I have lost.'

'Take heart,' said Perceval, 'and remember that it is God His mercy that chastiseth, and that while thou hast life thou hast hope. It is a man's duty, a man's nobility, to bear sorrows bravely, and still to work, to do all and to achieve. I think God will not long let this evil knight oppress and slay. In His good time He will cut him down.'

'Fair sir,' said the peasant, 'I thank thee for thy cheer, and I will take heart and trust in God's good time.'

And Perceval rode forward through the blackened land and found the forests burning and the fields wasted. Anon he came to the edge of a plain, and saw a great castle in the distance. And there came to him a damsel, weeping, and when he craved of her to tell him why she mourned, she stayed, and looked at him as if astounded. Then she cried with a great cry of joy.

'Oh, tell me, fair sir, who art thou? Thou hast the white armour which it was foretold the spotless knight should wear, and on thy shield is the Heart as of Him that bled to save the world.'

'I know not what you say,' replied Perceval, 'but my name is Perceval, son of Evroc, and I seek the wicked knight that doeth all this evil.'

'Then thou art the White Knight,' said the damsel, 'and now I pray that God aid thee, for my lady and all this poor land have need of thee. Come thou to my mistress, the lady of the Chaplet.'

Therewith she led him to the castle, and the lady thereof came out to him. She was of a sad countenance, but of a great beauty, though poorly clothed.

'Fair sir,' she said, 'my maiden hath told me who thou art, and I sorrow that one so noble as thou seemest shall essay to overcome the fiend knight of the Dragon. Yet if thou shouldst prevail, all men in this tortured land will bless thee, and I not the least. For daily doth the evil knight slay my poor knights, and cometh and casteth their blackened and burned bodies before my hall. And many of my poor folk hath he slain or enslaved, and others hath he caused to follow his evil worship, and many of my rich and fair lands hath he wrested from me.'

'Therefore, fair lady,' said Perceval, 'I would seek him without delay, for to essay the force of my body upon him, by the grace of God.'

'And shouldst thou conquer,' said the lady, 'with the fiend's death the hallowed relics which King Pellam guarded shall return to bless this land. Now, therefore, go ye towards the Burnt Land beyond the brook, for that is where is the lair of the fiend that doth oppress us.'

Perceval went forward across the plain to a brook, and having forded the water he came to a wide hollow where the ground was all baked and burned, and the trees were charred and black. Here and there lay pieces of armour, red and rusted, as if they had been in a fierce fire; and in one place was the body of a knight freshly slain, and he was charred and black.

Then, as Perceval looked about him, he saw the dark hole of a cave in a bank beside the hollow, and suddenly therefrom issued a burst of horrible fire and smoke, and with a cry as of a fiend a black knight suddenly appeared before him on a great horse, whose eyes flashed as with fire and whose nostrils jetted hot vapours.

'Ha! thou Christian!' cried the knight in a horrible voice, 'what dost thou here? Wouldst thou have thy pretty white armour charred and blackened and thyself killed by my dragon's power?'

Then Perceval saw how the boss of the Black Knight's shield was the head of a dragon, its forked tongue writhing, its teeth gnashing, and its eyes so red and fiendish that no mortal, unless by God's aid, could look on it and live. From its mouth came a blinding flash as of lightning and beat at Perceval, but he held up his shield of the Throbbing Heart, and with angry shrieks the Black Knight perceived that the lightning could not touch the shield.

Then from his side the evil knight tore his sword, and it flamed red as if it was heated in a fierce furnace, and thrusting forward he came and beat at Perceval. But the White Knight warded off the blows with his shield, which the flaming sword had no power to harm.

Then did the Black Knight marvel greatly, for never had a knight, however skilled, withstood him, for either the lightning of the dragon shield had burnt him, or the stroke of his flaming sword had slain him swiftly. And by this he knew that this knight was Perceval.

'Thou knowest not who it is thou fightest,' said the Black Knight, with a scornful laugh. 'Thou must put forth more than the skill thou didst learn of the witches of Glaive if thou wouldst overcome me. For know ye, that I am a fosterling of Domna the witch, and she taught me more than ever she taught you. Now prepare ye to die.'

Then Perceval knew that this indeed was the fight which Domna had foretold, and that if he failed in this, ruin and sorrow would be the lot of many.

And Perceval began to thrust and strike full valorously and skilfully, but naught seemed to avail him. Thus for a long time they went about, thrusting and striking. Always the strength of the Black Knight seemed as unwearied as that of a demon, while Perceval felt his arm weaken, as much from the great strokes he gave, as from the burning fires that darted at him from the dragon shield.

Then Perceval cried in prayer for aid, and asked that if Christ would have this land saved for His glory, strength should be given him to slay this fiendish oppressor.

Forthwith strength seemed to nerve his arm mightily, and lifting his sword he struck at the shield of the knight, and so vehement was the blow that he cut down the shield even to the head of the dragon. Feeling the wound, the dragon gave forth a great flame, and Perceval wondered to see that now his own sword burned as if on fire.

Then, while the Black Knight marvelled at this stroke, Perceval struck at him more fiercely and beat in the other's helm, so that the fiend knight bent and swayed in his saddle. But recovering, he became so wroth that, with his fiery sword, he heaved a mighty blow at Perceval, and cut through his hauberk even to the shoulder, which was burned to the bone.

Ere the other could withdraw himself, Perceval thrust his sword to the hilt into the loathsome throat of the dragon. Thereupon the dragon gave so terrible a cry that the earth seemed to shake with the horror of it. And in its wrath and pain the dragon's head turned upon the Black Knight its master, and vomited forth fire so fiercely, that it scorched and burned him utterly, so that he fell from his horse dead.

Perceval, dizzy and weak from the battle, alighted from his horse, and went towards the knight, that he might slay the dragon. But suddenly he swooned and fell and his consciousness went from him.

When Perceval came to his senses again, he found himself upon a pallet, and the rough walls of a room were about him, while above him was the window, as it seemed, of an abbey or convent. And he was so weak he could not lift his hand.

Some one came to him, and he recognised Tod the troll.

'Ah, good Tod,' said he faintly. 'Where am I?'

'Now God be praised,' said Tod, and smiled joyfully. 'For the nuns feared ye might not win through the poison of your wound which the dragon knight did give you. 'Twas I who had followed you, lord, since that you did leave the hold of the witches, and when you swooned I brought you here, to the convent of the White Nuns. And now that I know ye live, I go to your lady mother to tell her the good news, for she is weary to know tidings of you.'

'Go, good Tod,' said Perceval, 'and say I will come for her blessing when I may mount my horse again.'

When Tod had left him, there came a nun to him, and he knew her for Angharad, who had been so proud and scornful when he left her at the Castle of Weeds. And he asked her how she had fared, and why she was a nun.

'To repent me of my evil mind,' she said. 'For when you left us I did not in my heart thank ye that you had saved my mother and me from death and worse. And the witches came to me and tempted me with riches and power, even as they were tempting you while you were with them. I heard how you withstood them, and I scorned you and hated you and said you would yield some day. And then you left the witches, having learned all their strong powers, yet having withstood them, and I marvelled much. I heard men say you were one of three stainless knights of the world that should achieve the Holy Graal, because of your great humility and purity, and that great honour and glory would be yours, because you put not your trust in your own strength. Then I repented, and would not listen to the evil women. But they followed me, whispering and tempting, and then for terror I sought a holy hermit, and he brought me here, and now am I at peace, and my proud heart is humble.'

'By my faith, sister,' said Perceval, 'I am rejoiced to hear thee. For I thought when I saw thee that thou hadst a proud and a hard heart. But as thou wert a beauteous and lovely maiden I thought much of thee; and had it not been foreordained otherwise, I would have loved thee above all women and wedded thee.'

The sister's pale face flushed.

'Nay, but thou hadst a greater glory in store for thee,' she said. 'For thou shalt find the Holy Graal and restore it to this kingdom, and with it weak men shall forsake their leanings to the old law of hate, and cleave only to Christ and His new law of love.'

'It is as God may will it,' said Perceval.

In a little while he strengthened and rose from his pallet, and fared forth towards the north where his widowed mother sat in her lonely hall, waiting for him whose fame was sweet in every man's mouth.

As he passed through the land, he saw how it had already begun to smile again. Men went to their work unafraid, the corn was brightening on the hills, the cattle lowed, women sang at their work, and children played. And all blessed him as he rode.

Thus was ended at last the sorrow in the land of King Pellam which was brought in by the Dolorous Stroke which Sir Balin had given a generation before.

VIII

HOW SIR OWEN WON THE EARLDOM OF THE FOUNTAIN

Now the young page Owen, who had saved King Arthur from midnight murder at the hand of the evil Sir Turquine, whom Lancelot slew, had tarried at the court of the king, and in prowess and knightly achievements was among the most famous of the knights of the Round Table. And always was he wishful to go on strange adventures, however far might be the country, or dangerous the ways thereto, or cruel and crafty the foes.

One day King Arthur was at Caerleon-upon-Usk, and sat conversing with a few of his knights in the presence-chamber. With him was Sir Owen and Sir Kay, and there was also Sir Conan and Sir Bedevere. The queen sat near them, while her handmaidens stood by the window at needlework.

In a little while Arthur said he would sleep until the horn sounded for dinner. For he had come from London late the night before, and had not had his full rest.

'But,' said he, 'do you, my knights, continue your talk, and tell each other tales as before, and if you are hungry, Kay will give you collops of meat and horns of mead.'

So the king slept on his broad seat of green rushes, over which was spread a splendid covering of flame-coloured satin. And cushions of red satin were under his head.