Part 59

'I am the stranger whom ye rescued from death, my lady,' said Sir Owen, bowing, 'and this is thy rascally enemy, the Earl Arfog. Look you, churl in armour,' said Owen, shaking the other till every piece of steel upon him rattled, 'if you do not instantly crave pardon humbly of this lady, and restore unto her everything you have robbed of her, I swear to you, by the name of the great Arthur, I will shear your head from your shoulders.'

In great terror the earl, who, since he oppressed women, was an abject coward, sank upon his knees and promised to restore all he had ever taken from the lady, as a ransom for his life; and for his freedom he would give her many rich farms and manors, and hostages as surety.

Two more days Sir Owen stayed at the manor to see that these things were duly performed, and then he took his departure.

'I would that you could stay with us,' said the lady, who was sweet and gentle, with kindly eyes and a soft voice.

'Lady, I may not,' said Sir Owen. 'I seek my dear wife and her dominions, and have been seeking them these many months. But I fear me some evil necromancy hath been reared against me, so that I may not find her again, and she must be in much sorrow and misery in my absence. And if I never see my lady in life again, yet must I seek for her until I die.'

'What is the name of your lady and of her dominions?' asked the lady.

'She is the Lady Carol, Countess of the Fountain,' answered Owen. 'Do you know aught of her, and in which direction her lands lie?'

The lady caused inquiries to be made, and her foresters said that the lady's lands of the fountain lay fifteen leagues beyond the mountains, and that his way lay through the Wisht Wood, the Dead Valley, and the Hill of the Tower of Stone, and only a knight of great valour could hope to win through these places, which were the haunt of warlocks, wizards, and trolls, and full of magic, both black and white.

Joyously Sir Owen mounted his horse, glad to learn that now he might hope to find his countess again, and the Lady of the Moors wished him Godspeed, and looked after him long and earnestly till he disappeared into a forest.

He journeyed three days through the Wisht Wood, and many were the dreadful things he saw and heard there, and great eyes, green and black and yellow, peered at him from the bushes as he sat over his fire at night. But he clasped the blue stone which the troll Decet had given him, and naught could hurt him.

On the fourth day he descended into the Dead Valley. And here he was like to die, for the air was so thick, and filled with the poison of witches who haunted there at night, that if he had not ridden fiercely and fast through its deathly vapours, he could not have reached the slopes of the Hill of the Tower of Stone, where the air was pure and blew out of the clean sky.

Long and toilsome and exceedingly steep was the way up the side of the mountain, and many times Sir Owen thought he would have to sink down for sheer weariness. And it was dark night before he reached level ground, and he could not see where he was or what place he was in.

But having said his prayers, fed his horse, and eaten from the scrip which the Lady of the Moors had made up for him, he lay down beside a thick bush and slept soundly.

Many were the terrible sounds that came from far below, where fierce witches and warlocks battled and tore each other in the Dead Valley; but Sir Owen was so overcome that he awoke not. And just as the morning broke, a great serpent issued from a rock near where he lay and crept towards him to slay him.

Sir Owen still lay asleep, and the huge creature reared his head to strike. But at that moment a great brown bear, that had sat near Sir Owen through the night, leaped forward with a fierce growl, and gripped the serpent by the head. And the serpent hissed and writhed.

With the noise of the struggle Sir Owen awoke, and marvelled to see the two animals closed in deadly combat. He drew his sword and slew the serpent, and having wiped his weapon, he went to his horse and led it forward.

But the bear followed him and played about him, as if it was a greyhound that he had reared. And Sir Owen stopped and said:

'This is a marvel, sir bear, that you would follow me gambolling, because I slew the serpent. Are ye so grateful, then, or is it that ye have been captive unto men, and are fain to see one in this desolate waste?'

The bear gambolled as if pleased to hear him speak, and went on a little way and looked back as if to see that the knight was following. And when Sir Owen would go another way, the bear stamped his foot, so that at length, with a laugh, Sir Owen said he would follow the way he wished.

Wild was that place and rocky, full of great boulders and with deep pits obscured by bushes. Full irksome was it to pass through, for besides the slipperiness of the way, the sun shone pitilessly down, and its heat was returned by the hard rocks. And there was no water.

If the bear had not led him, Sir Owen would have missed his footing many times, and been hurled down one of the many chasms that yawned everywhere.

At length Sir Owen became faint with hunger, and he dismounted and tethered his horse to a leafless thorn. Then he went and lay in the shadow of an enormous rock that reared up like a huge tower. And the bear looked at him for a little while and then disappeared.

Sir Owen wondered sadly whether he should ever win through the perils that encompassed him, and see again the lady whom he loved best in all the world. And weak with famine, he doubted whether he should not leave his bones to bleach beside the great rock.

Then he looked, and saw the bear coming towards him, and it carried a roebuck, freshly slain, which it brought and laid at Sir Owen's feet. The knight sprang up with a glad cry, and struck fire with his flint, and the bear brought dried sticks, and soon a fire was blazing, and juicy collops were spluttering on skewers before the fire.

When Sir Owen had finished eating, the bear seemed to wish him to follow him, and the bear led him to a brook in a little green patch, and there the knight quenched his thirst.

By now it was twilight again, and Sir Owen made up the fire and prepared himself to slumber; and the bear lay down beside him and blinked at the fire like a great dog.

The knight saw the sun far in the west dip beneath a cloud, and a cold wind blew across the waste. And then he heard a sigh from somewhere behind him, and then another and again a third. And the sound seemed to come from within the towering stone.

He cried out, 'If thou art a mortal, speak to me! But if thou art some evil thing of this waste, avaunt thee!'