With that he left his men and spurred towards the Gate. A squire approached him bearing a shield painted on both sides in the likeness of a man who had been transpierced by a lance. It had been made in Isenhart’s country. He also carried a helmet and a sword which Razalic had brought to the wars to prove his mettle. But the swarthy heathen had been parted from it despite his far-flung reputation! If in later days he died unbaptized may He Who works all wonders have mercy upon him!
The Burgrave had never seen a sight that gladdened him so much. He recognized the emblem and galloped through the Gateway. There at his station was his young guest, turning to cross lances with an adversary. His host took him by the arm and led him in again. Thus Gahmuret unhorsed no others that day.
‘Tell me, sir,’ said Lahfilirost schachtelacunt ‘was it you who defeated Razalic? If so, our land is safe from war for ever, since he is lord of all the Moors, of all those loyal men of Isenhart who have inflicted such loss on us. Our troubles are at an end. It was at the beck of an angry god that they came to invade us with their armies. But now their power of waging war is broken.’
Lahfilirost led Gahmuret in, much to his annoyance. The Queen came riding out to meet him. She took his bridle and unlaced his ventail. Gahmuret’s host had to surrender him. But Gahmuret’s squires kept close to his heels. The subtle Queen led her guest through the town for all to see – the champion! When she judged the time had come she dismounted.
‘Bless me, what trusty squires you are! Do you think you are going to lose him? He will be made comfortable without your aid. Here is his horse, now take it away. I am his companion here!’
Up in the Palace he saw many ladies. The Queen disarmed him with her own dark hands. There was a magnificent bed with a sable coverlet, where a new though private honour awaited him. They were now alone: the young ladies-in-waiting had left the room and closed the doors behind them. The Queen yielded to sweet and noble love with Gahmuret, her heart’s own darling, little though their skins matched in colour.
The townsfolk brought rich offerings for their gods. Do you remember what gallant Razalic was told to do when he left the war? He kept his promise faithfully. But his grief for his master Isenhart broke out afresh.
From the shouting, the Burgrave guessed that Gahmuret had come, for the Princes of the Queen’s land of Zazamanc were streaming to the Palace to thank and congratulate him on his glorious achievement. He had thrust down a couple of dozen knights in straight joust and brought in the mounts of most as prizes. Three captives of princely rank, attended by many knights, were riding to the Palace to present themselves at Court.
The lord of all these lands, having slept and taken refreshment, was attired in magnificent robes. She who had been called maiden but who was now a woman, led him out by the hand. ‘I and my lands are subject to this knight,’ she said, ‘if enemies will concede it.’
Gahmuret made a request which met with ready assent. ‘Approach, lord Razalic, and kiss my wife! You, too, my lord Gaschier!’ He also asked proud Hiuteger the Scot, still smarting from his lance-wound, to kiss her on the lips. He invited them all to be seated, but himself remained standing. ‘I should also like to see my cousin, if I could do so without offence to his captor,’ were his politic words. ‘I am bound to free him as a kinsman.’ The Queen laughed. She ordered the knight to be fetched, and soon the charming young count was elbowing his way through the throng. He had been wounded in battle, but had also distinguished himself there. He had been brought to the wars by Gaschier the Norman. His father was French, his mother was Kaylet’s sister. He had been bred up at court and had come in the service of a lady. His name was Killirjacac. He excelled all other men in beauty.
As soon as Gahmuret saw him – their very faces proclaimed their relationship, since they resembled each other closely – he asked the Queen to kiss and embrace him. ‘Now come over here to me, too,’ said Gahmuret and he kissed him on his own account. They were delighted to see one another.
‘Ah, my charming young man,’ continued Gahmuret, ‘why do you expose your tender person here? Was it at the command of a lady?’
‘The ladies command me very little, sir. My uncle Gaschier brought me here, he knows best why himself. I maintain a thousand knights here, ready at his service. I marched to the place of assembly at Rouen in Normandy, bringing him young fighting-men. I left Champagne for his sake. Now misfortune is turning her treacherous arts against him – unless through a generous deed you add lustre to your name. If it be your wish, let him profit from my friendship: soften his ordeal!’
‘Follow your own advice. Go with my lord Gaschier and fetch me Kaylet.’
They went to do the warrior’s bidding and returned with Kaylet as they had been asked. He too was affectionately received by Gahmuret, and the puissant Queen embraced him warmly. She kissed the handsome knight, nor did she demean herself, since he was her consort’s cousin and a king in his own right.
‘I swear, lord Kaylet,’ said Gahmuret with a laugh, ‘if I were to take Toledo, say, and all your lands of Spain just to please the king of Gascony who is always attacking you so fiercely, I should be thought disloyal, you being my cousin. Yet you have the pick of the old guard with you here! Who forced you to join this expedition?’
‘My uncle Schiltunc commanded me to serve him,’ answered the proud young warrior. ‘Vridebrant is his son-in-law, it was of his prompting that I joined Vridebrant. Because of his wife, Vridebrant has six thousand warlike knights from me alone. I brought others, too, to serve his cause, but some of them have since gone away. Formidable contingents were here for love of the Scots: two kings from Greenland, redoubtable fighting-men, in great strength, with a veritable torrent of knights and many ships. I was much taken by their troops. Morholt, too, who fights with brains as well as brawn, was here. All these have gone away. I shall dispose of my men as My Lady instructs me. She shall see how ready I am to serve her. No need to thank me for my service, either. After all, we are related! Her dashing knights are now all yours, If, like mine, they were Christians, and their skins were of the same colour, the king has not been crowned who would not find them a handful! But, I wonder, whatever brought you here? Tell me how it all happened.’
‘Yesterday I came, today I am lord of the realm. The Queen took me prisoner with her own hand, and I, yielding to discretion, defended myself with love!’
‘It seems to me that you owe your double victory over the opposing armies to the charming way you fight.’
‘You mean because I ran away from you? You challenged me at the top of your voice – what did you hope to force from me? Only now is the time for parley.’
‘Your Anchor there meant nothing to me: my mother’s brother-in-law Gandin never took it to the field.’
‘But I knew your Ostrich, and the Serpent’s Head on your shield. Your Ostrich perched high, it was not nesting! I could see from your behaviour that my capturing those two men had annoyed you. They gave a very good account of themselves.’
‘I fancy I should have fared no better. I must say that if the most loathsome devil had triumphed over the brave as you have done, the ladies would have eaten him for sugar-candy!’
‘You overpraise me.’
‘No, I cannot flatter – ask me to help you some other way.’
They summoned Razalic. ‘My cousin Gahmuret took you prisoner with his own hands,’ said Kaylet courteously.
‘That is so, my lord. In him I have recognized a warrior to whom my land of Azagouc will never deny allegiance, seeing that lord Isenhart can never wear a crown there. He was slain in the service of the lady who is now your cousin’s wife, he gave his life to win her love. Yet I have forgiven her with my kiss. I have lost a lord and kinsman. If your cousin will follow chivalric custom and make amends for Isenhart, I will fold my hands to him in homage. He will have wealth and honour, then, and all that Tankanis bequeathed to Isenhart, whose body lies embalmed out there with the army. No day has passed when I have not gazed on his wounds, since t
his spear tore through his heart.’ The gallant knight drew it from his bosom by a silken cord, then slipped it back next the bare skin. ‘The day is far from done. If my lord Killirjacac will bear my message to the army as I ask him, the Princes will ride back in company with him.’ – and he sent a ring to them.
Soon they were passing through the town on their way to the Palace, all those that were of princely rank, their faces black as Hell. Then by the taking and giving of pennants Gahmuret enfeoffed the Princes of Azagouc. Not one but was happy with his fief: yet the better part remained in the hands of Gahmuret, their lord.
These had been the first. But then the lords of Zazamanc approached him. At their mistress’s bidding they received their lands and revenues from him with great ceremony, each according to his due. Poverty had fled their lord! Prothizilas, who was of princely line, had left a duchy, and this Gahmuret gave in fee to one who had never failed in battle and had won great honour there – Lahfilirost schachtelacunt! He received it with pennant there and then. The noble Princes of Azagouc took Hiuteger the Scot and Norman Gaschier and.went before their sovereign. At their request he set these prisoners free, for which they thanked him.
‘Make our lord a present of the Pavilion, as a reward for his rare exploit,’ they urged Hiuteger. ‘Isenhart was snatched away from us as the result of his giving Vridebrant the proudest possession of our land: there was nothing on earth to compare with that Helmet of hard, thick adamant, that trusty friend in battle! The victim of unrequited love, he staked his whole happiness, and now pays the price in person on this bier!’
Hiuteger promised with his hand on it that when he returned to his country he would try to recover the Helmet from his overlord and return it in good order. This he did without being pressed.
The assembled Princes all crowded in to take leave of the King, and then left the Palace. Although his lands had been sadly ravaged, Gahmuret continued to shower such bounties on them, you would have thought the trees bore gold! He doled out lavish gifts. Vassals and kinsmen relieved the hero of his property, for such was the Queen’s pleasure.
Prior to these happy nuptials there had been many and great dissensions. Peace was made as follows. This is no fabrication of mine – I was told that Isenhart was buried with royal honours by his friends, who of their own accord laid out fully a year’s revenue from his lands on it. But Gahmuret decreed that Isenhart’s men should retain his great possessions and administer them separately.
Next morning the besiegers quitted the field before the fortress. Those who had been there now parted company, bearing many litters as they went.
The plain was bare of their encampments but for that grand Pavilion! The King commanded it to be taken aboard. He spread the tale among the people that he was going to take it to Azagouc, but in this he was deceiving them.
And so the proud warrior sojourned there, till finding no deeds of arms to perform he began to pine and fret, so that his happiness turned to sorrow. Yet the dusky lady was dearer to him than life. Never was there a woman of comelier form. Her heart, too, was ever mindful of the truly modest woman’s ways that were in constant attendance on it.
He asked his Sevillano to make ready for sea by a fixed hour. The man had been his pilot over many miles before: indeed, he had brought him there.
‘Conceal it from the blackamoors,’ said that wily mariner (who was himself not of Moorish hue). ‘My cogs are so fast that they will never come up with us. We must put out with all speed.’ Gahmuret gave orders to ship his gold.
And now I must tell you of a parting. That very night the noble man set sail, in secret. At the time when he gave his wife the slip she was twelve weeks gone with child. How swift the wind that drives them away!
In her purse the lady found a letter in her husband’s hand, in French, a tongue she knew. Its legend was as follows:
Herein one love salutes another, and sends its love. Like a thief I have sailed away. I had to steal away to spare our tears. Madam, I cannot conceal it that did you but live within my rite I would long for you to all eternity. Even now my passion gives me endless torment! If our child has the aspect of a man, I swear he will be brave. He is of the House of Anjou. Love will be his Mistress. In battle he will be a hail-storm and a hard neighbour to his enemies. I would have my son know that his grandsire was named Gandin and met his death in battle. Gandin’s father suffered the same fate – Addanz was his name. He was of British race. His shield never stayed whole for long. He and Utepandragun were the children of two brothers, whose names are written here: the one Lazaliez, Brickus the other. Their father’s name was Mazadan. A fairy, Terdelaschoye, lured him to the land of Feimurgan: her heart was moored to him. My race descends from this pair, nor will it ever cease to shed its lustre. Each has worn his crown in turn, each had his meed of honour. Madam, you can still win me, if you will be baptized.
She did not wish it otherwise. ‘How soon that can be done! I will be christened with all speed if only he will come back. To whom else has the courtly warrior left the fruits of his love? Out on you, sweet dalliance, if I am to be assailed by bitter memories now and ever after! I would gladly be baptized to the glory of God,’ the lady continued, ‘and live according to his liking!’ Grief had at her with hack and thrust. Her happiness ‘found the withered branch’, as turtle-doves still do. They keep such faith that when they lose their mates they never fail to seek the withered bough.
When her time came, the lady was delivered of a son. His skin was pied. It had pleased God to make a marvel of him, for he was both black and white. The Queen fell to kissing his white spots, time and time again. The name she gave her little boy was Feirefiz* the Angevin. When he grew up he cleared whole forests – so many lances did he shatter, punching holes in shields. His hair and all his skin were particoloured like a magpie.
More than a year had passed since Gahmuret was acclaimed in Zazamanc on gaining the victory, and still he tossed on the sea at the mercy of the scudding winds. But now he descried a silken sail, gleaming red, and then a ship. It was bringing messengers from Vridebrant to lady Belacane, asking her to pardon him for having invested her, though he had lost a kinsman because of her. They had also brought the Adamant, a sword, a hauberk and a pair of greaves.
Here is a marvel for your ears: their courses met! My source swears to it. They made it all over to him, and Gahmuret for his part promised he would convey the message with his own lips, when he returned to her. I was told that the sea carried him into a haven, from where he went to Seville. There the gallant man paid off his pilot for all his toil, with a rich reward of gold. They parted company, much to that mariner’s sorrow.
Chapter 2
GAHMURET Knew the king in that land of Spain, for it was his cousin Kaylet. He set out for Toledo to find him, but Kaylet had left in search of tournaments where there was to be no sparing of shields! Then Gahmuret too, as my source assures me, told his men to equip him with gay lances, each with its pennant of green cendale displaying three Anchors of ermine so proud that all acclaimed their splendour. They were long and broad, and from where they were tied a span below the lance-head reached almost down to the hand. A hundred of these had been made for the gallant man and were now being carried in his train by his cousin’s people, who contrived to show him their love and esteem nobly and in a way that pleased their lord.
Gahmuret ranged after Kaylet for I do not know how long until in the land of Waleis he saw the encampments of foreign knights, a crowd of pavilions pitched on the meadow before Kanvoleis. – By your leave this is true, I am not romancing. He told his men to rein in and sent his discreet young squire-in-chief ahead with orders to find a camping ground within the town, and his squire went about it with all speed. Others followed leading sumpters. Not a house did he see that was not covered with shields as by a second roof, its sides draped with hangings and all palisaded with lances.
The Queen of Waleis had bidden a tournament at Kanvoleis in terms that still scare a coward when he sees such
a proclamation afoot – he is no man to take part in it! She was a maiden not yet come to woman’s estate and offered two lands and her person to whoever most distinguished himself, news that caused many to be thrust over their cruppers down on to the young grass. Those who took a toss of this sort were judged to have lost their throw! Yet fearless warriors took part in it and proved their mettle as knights. Many a horse was spurred to the headlong gallop, many swords were set a-ringing.
A pontoon bridge led over a sheet of water to a meadow, but access was barred by a gate. Unabashed, the young squire opened it – and there above stood the Palace! The Queen was sitting at the windows with a bevy of noble ladies, and they began to take note of what the squires were about below, for these had made their plans and were raising a pavilion of state. A king had given it up for a love that brought him no return, moved by passion as he was for Belacane. A rare, luxurious pavilion needing thirty pack-horses to carry it, it was erected after much labour. Add to that, the meadow was broad enough for the guys to be fully braced. Noble Gahmuret was breakfasting outside the town while this was being done. But when it was ready he busied his thoughts as to how he could cut a courtly figure riding up. No great time was spent on that. Each of his squires tied five of his lances together in a bundle and carried a sixth in his hands with pennant flying – in such style did the proud man ride!
The news reached the Queen’s entourage that a complete stranger from a distant land was about to arrive.
‘His attendants, both French and infidel, are elegant. But judging by their speech some may well be Angevins. They bear themselves proudly, and their clothes are very fine – well cut, there is no denying it. I was with his squires and found them above criticism. They say that if anyone needs anything and petitions their master, he will part him from his cares. I asked who he was, and they told me straight that he was the King of Zazamanc.’ Such was the news a page had brought her.
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