King Arthur's Knights Part 32

And things happened as she had foreseen. Every day there came into the town one cavalcade or more, with some baron or earl in flas.h.i.+ng armour at the head of his va.s.sals, come to try his fortune and to win the lovely Countess of the Fountain, and to possess her wide dominions.

Daily the countess was compelled to receive fresh comers in audience, and while with deft excuses she kept each at arm's length, they crowded her audience-chamber, proud and insolent, humble or crafty, eyeing each other with high looks, each prepared to slay his rival if the need arose.

At last there came an earl who, as he came up the street at the head of a large company of knights, seemed to s.h.i.+ne like the sun. For his armour was all of gold, and jewels were about his neck, and on his girdle and his wrists. Every toss of his destrier's head dazzled the eyes with the fountain of flas.h.i.+ng lights given off by the jewels which adorned the cloth of gold about its head.

This knight called himself the Earl of Drood, but Elined was in the crowd of gaping townspeople that saw him enter, and she knew him for the old insolent lover of her mistress, whom the countess had ever despised, Sir Dewin of Castle Cower.

Sir Dewin disguised himself so that the countess did not know him. She received him in audience, and though she was startled by the magnificence of his dress, and a little moved by the gentleness of his manner, she felt that she feared and distrusted him.

The next day he craved to see her again, and then said:

'Fair and n.o.ble lady, so deeply doth thy beauty move me, that I am eager to put to the test swiftly the question whether I or some other happier knight among these n.o.ble gentlemen shall obtain thy hand.

Therefore I crave permission of thee to proclaim a joust between all these knights that sue for thee, and the winner among them all shall be he that thou shalt wed.'

'Sir,' said the countess with great dignity, 'it is not for thee to order here, but for me. I wish nothing to be done for the s.p.a.ce of nine days, and then will I make my choice.'

At which Sir Dewin, though full of rage, must needs seem content. And the countess hoped that, in the s.p.a.ce she had named, Elined would have returned with the knight of her choice, and she herself could choose him for her lord, if she thought he was the man whom she could most trust and love.

But Sir Dewin wrought upon many of the suitors who were of his mind, and they resolved that, will she, nill she, the countess must needs abide by a contest between all her wooers to be holden on the tenth day.

And on the tenth day all the knights, barons, and earls met together in full armour in a broad green jousting-place beneath the windows of the countess, and having made the rules of contest, and committed them to the seneschal of the countess, they prepared to prove which among them all was the knight of most prowess.

Then there was fierce hurtling to and fro of knight against knight, and lances splintered, horses reared, knights fell wounded or dead, and were dragged away. And for long, among the ninety-nine knights that there jousted, none of the crowds who looked on could see which were they who were gaining the day.

From her window the countess watched with a sorrowing and dreading heart; for Elined had not yet returned, and therefore the countess must be the prize of one of these suitors who had pestered her, and none of whom she cared for.

Then, when the dust of the jousting had a little cleared, and the knights had withdrawn to the sides of the lists, to breathe and rest awhile, it was seen that twelve remained of the ninety-nine.

The countess, looking from her window, knew them all from the devices on their s.h.i.+elds, and none of them were men she favoured. Some she knew were evil men, yet, as knights, were powerful in jousting. And she dreaded which of them should be the victor, to be her lord and master.

Then the knights hurtled together again, and as one after the other was unhorsed by stronger opponents and went from the field, she went pale with fear and anxiety.

At last there were but two, and these were Sir Dewin, whom she knew as the Earl of Drood, and the other was a knight in blue armour, with a s.h.i.+eld on which was painted a hillock or mound. And she knew him to be a man named Sir Daunt, or the Knight of the Mount, a man of fierce temper, quarrelsome and cruel.

The countess could have swooned with terror, for she knew that now she was doomed to an unhappy life, whichever of these knights prevailed.

For though the Earl of Drood was soft and gentle in speech and manner, she feared that this but covered a wicked heart.

She could hardly bear to look as she heard these two, the last of all the ninety-nine, crash together in the midst of the jousting-ground.

And she heard the cries of the onlookers.

'The blue knight's the better man! How he heaves with his sword! Ah, the golden knight is down!'

And looking from her window the countess saw the earl was lying wounded, and the Knight of the Mount stood over him. Then the earl surrendered and was carried off the field.

The great shouts that saluted the victor made the countess turn faint and sick with dread, so that she fell back among her handmaidens in a swoon. But, quickly recovering, she stood up, resolved to meet her fate with proud dignity.

In a few moments the door opened and the arras was pushed aside, and the groom of the chambers announced with a shout:

'The Knight of the Mound, victorious in the joust, craves leave to greet our lady the countess.'

The lady bowed a.s.sent, trembling in every limb. Then the groom stepped aside, and into the chamber came a comely gentleman, clad in purple tunic, rich with chains and jewelled belt.

But it was not the knight whom the countess had expected, but a stranger, with a courtly and gentle manner and a winning smile.

Then from behind him came Elined, full of smiles, with a look of triumph in her eyes.

'My lady,' she said, bowing low, 'this is the knight, Sir Owen of Wales, from the court of King Arthur, whom I have brought to protect you and wed you. He hath just proved himself the doughtiest among a hundred.'

The terror of the countess was changed instantly into joy, and she put forth her hand, and Sir Owen bent and kissed it, and she led him to the window seat, and commanded Elined to sit with them. And they spoke full joyously together, for the countess was much taken with the n.o.ble and gentle bearing of Sir Owen, and admired him because he had proved himself the best man of all her wooers.

In a few days she sent for the bishops and priests, and her nuptials with Sir Owen were celebrated with such feasting that all the country was full of merriment and joy. And the men of the earldom came and did homage to Owen, and he became the Earl of the Fountain.

In a little while thereafter Sir Owen told his lady that it was he who had chased the soul from the body of her former lord. But the countess was not vexed by the knowledge, for Sir Owen loved her greatly, and with all tenderness and honour, and never had the countess been so happy with Earl Cadoc as she was with Owen.

Thereafter Earl Owen defended the fountain with lance and sword against all who ventured to challenge him in his earldom. And the knights who were thus conquered he held to ransom, and the money he thus obtained he divided equally among his barons and knights. Never had they had so generous a lord, nor one of such prowess and knightly worth. And all his subjects loved Earl Owen pa.s.sing well.

Thus for three years in all happiness and quiet did Owen and the countess dwell. Sir Dewin of Castle Cower had not power to hurt them, nor did any other evil light upon them.

But at the end of this s.p.a.ce, towards the close of a summer's day, Sir Owen, by the magic whereby it was made known to him, knew that there was a knight who challenged him at the fountain. So, putting on his sky-blue armour, he went forth and found the knight.

They rushed together, and the strange knight was overthrown. But others who were with him took him away, and Sir Owen waited. But none other challenge was made, and in the twilight he retired, resolved to attend next day in case any others desired to challenge him.

In the morning the same knight came forth from the company of knights which was among the trees about the fountain. And so fiercely did Sir Owen a.s.sail him that the head of his lance broke the helmet of the stranger and pierced the flesh to the bone. Again his companions carried him off.

Then other knights came forth and had to do with Sir Owen, but all were overthrown. At length came one having over himself and his horse a rich satin robe of honour, and Sir Owen knew that he must be a man of great dignity, big of body and of knightly prowess.

They fought together that evening and half through the next day, but neither could obtain the mastery. And about noon they took still stronger lances and fought most stubbornly. At length they came so furiously together that the girths of their horses were broken and both were borne to the ground.

They rose up speedily and drew their swords and resumed the combat; and all those that witnessed it felt that they had never seen such a battle of heroes before. And suddenly with a blow fiercely strong and swiftly keen, Sir Owen cut the fastenings of the strange knight's helm, so that the headpiece came off.

With a cry Sir Owen dropped his weapon, for he knew that this was Sir Gawaine, his cousin.

'My Lord Gawaine,' he said, 'the robe of honour that covered thee prevented my knowing it was thee with whom I fought. Take my sword and my arms, for I yield me to thee.'

'Nay, Sir Owen,' said Gawaine, 'take thou mine, for I am at thy mercy.'

Then came forward King Arthur, and Sir Owen knew him and kneeled before him and kissed his hand, and then embraced him. And there was much joy between all the knights and Owen, for all had feared that he had been slain, and the king in despair had come upon this adventure to learn tidings of him.

Then they all proceeded to the castle of the countess, and a great banquet was prepared, with joustings and hawking parties and games.

They stayed three months in great happiness and diversion.

At last, when King Arthur prepared to depart, he went to the countess and besought her to permit Owen to go with him for the s.p.a.ce of three months, that he might renew his friends.h.i.+ps at the court at Caerleon.

And though it made the countess sorrowful to lose the man she loved best in all the world, she consented, and Owen promised to return even before the time appointed.

So King Arthur returned to Caerleon with Sir Owen, and there was much feasting and diversion to welcome him. And his kindred and friends tried to make Owen forget the countess and his earldom, but they could not. For she was the lady he loved best in the world, and he would liefer be with her, to guard and cherish her, than in any other place on the surface of the earth.

One night, as the court sat after dinner over the mead cups, a juggler came into the hall and performed many tricks, and there was much laughter and gaiety at his merry quips and jests. And he craved that he might search the hands of each lord and lady present, so that he could tell them if they would be happy in love.

He began with Sir Kay, and so along the board, uttering merry thoughts on all, but speaking with serious and solemn looks, until he came to Sir Owen. And he looked long and earnestly at the marks in that knight's palm, and then said, in a croaking voice: