The Death of King Arthur

by Peter Ackroyd

  ‘Sirs,’ he said, ‘there was a lady. She was with an escort of forty men. They entered the forest. Over there.’

  They sped off into the forest and, after finding a path, they caught sight of Arthur’s sister riding ahead of them. So they chased her through the trees. When she saw them in pursuit she spurred on her horse. She came to a lake, and stopped for a moment. ‘I do not care what may happen to me,’ she said. ‘But Arthur will never have this scabbard.’ She threw it with all her strength into the middle of the lake, where it sank in a moment. It was weighed down by gold and precious stones.

  Then she rode into a valley of rocks, from which there was no escape. So by sorcery she changed herself, and her men, into great marble stones that lay cold and silent. Arthur and Oughtlake came into the valley soon after. ‘They have not come this way,’ the king said. ‘Let us turn back to the abbey.’

  As soon as they had gone Morgan le Fay undid the spell, and returned them all to their human shapes. ‘Sirs,’ she said, ‘now we may go where we will.’ Soon after this they came upon a knight on horseback, leading another knight bundled upon a horse; he was blindfolded, and his hands and feet were bound. Morgan le Fay stopped him. ‘What are you going to do with this knight?’ she asked.

  ‘I am going to drown him in the fountain ahead of you.’

  ‘For what cause?’

  ‘What cause? I found him with my wife. She will die in the same way soon enough.’

  ‘That would be a pity,’ she replied. Then she addressed the knight who was bound. ‘What do you say? Is he speaking the truth.’

  ‘No, lady. He lies.’

  ‘From where do you come? What country?’

  ‘I am from the court of King Arthur. My name is Manessen. I am cousin to Sir Accolon of Gaul.’

  ‘You have spoken well. For the love of Accolon, I will free you. You may treat your foe in the same way as he treated you.’

  So Manessen was set free, and the other knight was tied and thrown into the fountain where he drowned. Then Manessen took horse and prepared to ride off. ‘Is there anything you wish me to tell Arthur?’ he asked her.

  ‘Tell him that I rescued you for love of Accolon, not for love of him. Tell him this, too. I do not fear him as long as I can turn myself and my men into stones. He will know what I mean. And whisper this to him. I will do more, when the time comes.’

  So she departed into the country of Gore, where she was richly received and welcomed. She made sure to strengthen her towns and castles. From this time forward she dreaded the wrath of her brother.

  THE ADVENTURES OF SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE

  Soon after King Arthur had returned to his court, all the knights of the Round Table came together and fought many jousts and tournaments. Some proved themselves to be strong and valiant, but none more so than Sir Lancelot du Lake. He was the victor in all of his contests. He was only ever overcome by spells and enchantment. He so increased in fame that he is the first knight that the French books mention in their accounts of Arthur. He also became the favourite of the queen, Guinevere, for whose sake he fought many battles. He himself so loved the queen that, as we shall see, he saved her from false men and even from fire.

  The pursuit across the plain

  After Sir Lancelot had grown tired of tournaments he summoned his nephew, Sir Lionel. ‘We have spent too much time in games,’ he said. ‘Now we must ride into the world and seek out strange adventures.’ So they armed themselves and mounted their horses. Soon after they rode on to a wide plain, dotted with rocks and trees. It was noon, and the sun was beating strongly upon them. Sir Lancelot said that he felt a great desire to sleep. ‘There is an apple tree,’ Sir Lionel told him. ‘By the hedge there. Why not rest in its shade?’

  ‘So I will. It has a fair shadow. And I have not felt so drowsy for seven years.’

  They dismounted and tied their horses to the trees. Sir Lancelot laid himself down beneath the apple tree, and put his helmet beneath his head. As he slept Sir Lionel kept watch. As he watched, three knights came galloping across the plain as if in fear of their lives. They were pursued by one man alone, but he was the best proportioned and most powerful knight Lionel had ever seen. This mighty knight rode down each of the three knights in turn and struck them to the earth, senseless; then he tied them to the backs of their horses with the reins of their bridles.

  Sir Lionel decided to test his own strength and, even while Sir Lancelot still slept, he mounted his horse and challenged the powerful knight. The man turned and, with his sword drawn, he charged Sir Lionel and thrust him on to the ground. Then he bound Lionel’s wrists and bundled him on to his own horse. The man rode for a little way, with the other three knights helpless on their horses, and then threw all of them into a dark prison where other men lay dead or dying.

  Meanwhile Sir Ector de Maris had learned that Lancelot had left the court in search of noble adventures. Thoroughly ashamed of being left behind, he set off on a similar quest. He had been riding a long time in a deep wood when he met a man who resembled a forester. ‘Fair fellow,’ he called to him, ‘do you know where I might find an adventure?’

  ‘I know this country well,’ the man replied. ‘If you ride for a mile or two you will find a large manor house with a moat around it; to the side of it there is a ford where your horse might drink its fill. Over this ford there grows a tree, from the branches of which hang the shields of many good knights dead or defeated in combat. There is also a basin, made of silver, hanging there. Strike that basin with the butt of your spear three times. You will see what you will see.’

  ‘I thank you,’ Sir Ector replied and rode off at once. He came up to the manor house, a dwelling of thick stone; its windows were small and inset, as if the place were a castle. He stopped before it, and then saw the tree by the ford. But what was this? He was surprised to see the shields of many knights of the Round Table hanging from its branches. He took it hard that among them was that of his brother, Sir Lionel, and he promised to himself that he would avenge him. Then he beat furiously upon the silver basin, as if he had gone out of his wits, and led his horse to the side of the ford. Before long he heard the voice of someone calling out to him. He turned, and faced a knight, strong and serious. This was the knight who had pursued and captured the three men upon the plain. His name was Sir Tarquin. ‘Take your horse from the water,’ Tarquin said to him, ‘and prepare to fight me.’

  So Ector galloped towards him and gave the warrior such a buffet with his spear that he spun around with his horse. ‘That was well done,’ the man said. ‘But see what I shall do to you.’ He went for him with sword and spear, bearing Ector out of his saddle and seizing him before he had a chance to escape. Then Tarquin took him into his castle and threw him down upon the floor. ‘You have fought me better than any other knight in these last twelve years,’ he told him. ‘So I will spare your life, on condition that you become my prisoner.’

  ‘I will never agree to that,’ Ector replied.

  ‘All the worse for you.’ He stripped him of his armour, and then beat him with thorns before throwing him into the same deep prison where Lionel lay.

  Ector recognized Lionel at once. ‘Dear brother, what are you doing here? And where is Sir Lancelot?’

  ‘I left him sleeping beneath an apple tree. I do not know what has become of him.’

  ‘We need his help to deliver us from this place. Only Lancelot will be able to defeat the knight who has imprisoned us.’

  The four wicked queens

  Now we will leave these knights and return to Lancelot sleeping beneath the tree. As he lay there, four queens of great estate approached him. One of them was Morgan le Fay, the wicked sister of Arthur. They were riding on four white mules, and four knights in white armour carried a canopy of green silk above them to shield them from the heat of the sun. As they came up they recognized Sir Lancelot at once, and each of them declared that they would strive with the others to win his love.

  ‘There is no need for us to
fight each other,’ Morgan le Fay said to them. ‘I will cast a spell on him that will last seven hours. In that time we will take him to my castle. When he awakes from the enchantment, he will choose one of us for himself.’ So they led him to Castle Chariot, where they placed him in a cold chamber. After the seven hours were past a young lady brought him supper. She greeted him and asked him how he was.

  ‘I cannot tell you, lady,’ he replied. ‘I do not know how I come to be in this place. Perhaps I was taken here by magic.’

  ‘Be cheerful, sir,’ she replied. ‘I will tell you in the morning.’

  So he lay there all that night, confused and restless. At dawn the four queens came into his chamber and greeted him. He looked up at them in surprise. ‘Good morning, fair ladies. Can you tell me what I am doing here?’

  Morgan le Fay spoke out. ‘You must be aware, sir, that you are our prisoner. We know you. You are Sir Lancelot du Lake, son of King Ban. We also know that you are the noblest knight in the world. You love Guinevere above all others, but she is married now to my brother, Arthur. So you must choose one of us to be your paramour. I am Morgan le Fay, queen of the land of Gore. Here are the queens of North Wales, of East Land and of the Outer Isles. Which of us will it be? If you refuse us, then you will remain here as my prisoner until your death.’

  ‘I see that I am hard pressed,’ Lancelot replied, ‘either to die here or marry one of you. But I would rather spend the rest of my life in prison than take one of you as my wife. You are all witches and false enchanters.’

  ‘Is that your answer?’ Morgan le Fay asked him.

  ‘Yes it is. I will have none of you.’

  So they left him alone in his cell, lamenting his fate. When the same young lady brought him his dinner, later that day, she asked him how he was. ‘I have never been so ill used,’ he replied.

  ‘Sir,’ she said, ‘I am prepared to help you. But you must make me a promise.’

  ‘Willingly. I am determined to escape from these four queens who have destroyed so many good knights.’

  ‘I will tell you what you must do. Next Tuesday my father must meet the King of North Wales in combat. If you help him to win, I will arrange your escape tomorrow.’

  ‘Tell me your father’s name before I give you my answer.’

  ‘He is King Bagdemagus.’

  ‘I know him well. He is a noble knight indeed. I will be happy to serve him. And you.’

  ‘Thank you for that. Be ready at dawn tomorrow. I will bring your horse and armour to you. Ride for ten miles until you come to an abbey of white monks. Wait for me there. I will bring my father with me.’

  So on the following morning she knocked at his door, and found him ready. She had the keys to the twelve doors that held him fast. She unlocked each one in turn, and led him out into the courtyard of the castle. His horse and armour were there, together with his sword and spear. Lancelot leaped into the saddle. ‘For this relief,’ he said to her, ‘much thanks. I will not fail you, lady.’ Then he rode off.

  The wrong bedfellow

  He came into a great forest where there was no track or path; at nightfall he found himself in a glade where there was pitched a tent of fine red silk. ‘I will rest here,’ he said, ‘until the morning.’ So he tied his horse to the tent, took off his armour, and lay down upon a soft bed that he found there. Soon he was sound asleep.

  The knight who owned the tent came back an hour later. He believed that his lover slept in the bed, so he lay down and kissed the sleeping body. As soon as Lancelot felt the rough beard of a man he leaped from the bed, swiftly followed by the unfortunate knight. They took up their swords, and Lancelot wounded him so badly that he was forced to concede the fight.

  ‘Why did you come into the bed?’ Lancelot asked him.

  ‘This tent is my own. I was expecting my lady to be here. But now I am likely to die.’

  ‘I regret your wound, sir. But I was afraid of treachery. I have lately been beguiled. Let us go into your tent, and I will help you staunch the flow of blood. What is your name?’

  ‘Belleus.’

  ‘Come, Belleus.’

  Sir Lancelot was binding the wounds when the lover of Belleus arrived. When she saw the blood she cried out in alarm, and almost fainted in her distress. ‘Be calm,’ Belleus told her. ‘This knight is a good man. He has helped me.’ Then he told her the story of their meeting.

  She turned to Lancelot. ‘Sir knight, from whose court have you come? Who are you?’

  ‘I am Lancelot du Lake.’

  ‘I thought so. I have often seen you at Arthur’s court, and I know you better than you imagine. But now I ask you this. For all the dangers Sir Belleus has passed through, and for the wounds he has suffered at your hands, will you make a request to the king? Will you recommend that Belleus join the Round Table? He is worthy of it.’

  ‘Fair lady, let him come with you to the court at the time of the next high feast. There I will put him forward. If he triumphs in arms, he will be selected.’

  The tournament

  When dawn broke Belleus showed Lancelot the direction to the abbey of the white monks. As soon as he arrived there, the daughter of King Bagdemagus came to a window and welcomed him. She led Lancelot into a comfortable chamber, where she urged him to rest. Then she sent word to her father, and the king rode to the abbey with many of his knights. He strode into the chamber and clasped Lancelot in his arms, greeting him with warm words.

  Sir Lancelot explained how he had been beguiled by Morgan le Fay. ‘Your daughter saved me, sir,’ he said, ‘so I have pledged my service to her and all her kindred.’

  ‘So you will help me on Tuesday?’

  ‘Willingly. I will not fail you. I am told that the tournament will take place two miles from this abbey. Let me have three of your best knights. Give them shields painted white. Provide me with one, too. We will wait in a small wood close to the field of battle. When I see your followers fighting those of the King of North Wales, I will come out in open combat against the king. Then you will see what kind of knight I am.’ Bagdemagus embraced him again.

  On the following day he sent Lancelot the three knights he had requested, and their shields were painted white. They took themselves off to the wood close to the tournament and there waited their turn. First on the field came the King of North Wales; he had with him one hundred and eighty warriors, together with three knights of the Round Table. They were Sir Mordred, Sir Marhalt and Sir Gahalantine. Lancelot knew them well. You may recall that Sir Mordred was the son of King Arthur himself, fruit of the incestuous union between the king and his half-sister. King Bagdemagus entered the field with only eighty knights, and at the first challenge they were pushed back; twelve of them were killed, with only slight casualties on the side of the King of North Wales.

  So Lancelot gave his men the signal to advance; they rode out together into the thickest of the press. Lancelot thrust his spear into five knights, and broke the backs of six more. Then he bore down upon the King of North Wales, who fell from his horse and broke his thigh. The three knights of the Round Table witnessed the deeds of this knight with the white shield, and wondered who he might be. ‘This is a valiant man,’ Sir Marhalt said. ‘I will advance against him.’ So he charged but Lancelot caught him with his sword; Marhalt fell and injured his shoulder.

  ‘I will bring vengeance on him,’ Sir Mordred called out. He galloped forward but Lancelot forestalled him; he struck at him with his shield so forcefully that Mordred fell into a swoon.

  It was now the turn of Gahalantine. He fell upon Lancelot, and they fought long and hard. But Lancelot proved the stronger. Gahalantine bowed his head in surrender, and his horse bore him away. Then Lancelot turned to the other knights, but none of them would joust against him. So King Bagdemagus was awarded the victory. He took Lancelot back to his castle, where they revelled into the night. Lancelot himself was rewarded with rich gifts.

  The release of the prisoners

  On the following morning
he said farewell to his hosts. ‘I must find my brother, Sir Lionel,’ he told them, ‘who disappeared as I slept beneath an apple tree. When I woke he was gone, I do not know where.’ He turned to the king’s daughter. ‘Fair lady,’ he said, ‘if at any time you need my service, let me know. I will not fail you. Now God be with you all.’

  So Lancelot left them, and before long, he found himself upon the wide plain close to the apple tree where he had slumbered. A young woman was coming towards him on a white palfrey. ‘Can you tell me this, lady,’ he called out to her, ‘where in this land will I find adventures?’

  ‘They are closer than you think, sir. Are you a valiant knight?’

  ‘Why else would I be here?’

  ‘I can take you to the castle of the fiercest and most powerful knight that ever lived. But first you must tell me your name.’

  ‘I am Lancelot du Lake.’

  ‘Well, Lancelot du Lake, your chance has come. Close to us here dwells Sir Tarquin, who boasts that he can beat any knight in battle. I believe that he holds many of Arthur’s knights in prison, where they are tightly bound. But if you succeed, sir, you must promise me this. You will help me, and other young women, who are in daily distress from the actions of a false knight.’

  ‘I swear to assist you, lady.’

  ‘Then come with me.’

  She led him to the ford and to the tree from which hung the silver basin; there he also saw the shields of Sir Lionel and the others. He beat the basin with his spear for some time, but no knight came. So Lancelot galloped with the lady around the moat and, on the other side, he saw coming towards him Sir Tarquin with another knight bound to his horse. He recognized the captured man at once: it was Sir Gaheris, a knight of the Round Table and brother of Sir Gawain.