Part 81

'Ha! King Arthur!' he cried, half breathless, but in a great wild voice, 'my good brother, Sir Gareth, is slain, and also Sir Gaheris! I cannot bear the thought of them slain. It cannot be true! I cannot believe it!'

'Nay, nor can any think upon it,' said the king, 'and keep from weeping.'

'Ay, ay,' said Sir Gawaine in a terrible voice, 'there shall be weeping, I trow, and that erelong. Sir, I will go see my dead brothers. I would kiss them ere they be laid in earth.'

'Nay, that may not be,' said the king gently. 'I knew how great would be thy sorrow, and that sight of them would drive thee mad. And I have caused them to be interred instantly.'

'Tell me,' said Gawaine, and men marvelled to see the wild look in his eyes and to hear the fierce voice, 'is it truth that Sir Lancelot slew them both?'

'It is thus told me,' said the King, 'that in his fury Sir Lancelot knew not whom he smote.'

'But, man,' thundered Sir Gawaine, 'they bare no arms against him! Their hearts were with him, and young Gareth loved him as if--as if Lancelot was his own brother.'

'I know it, I know it,' replied King Arthur. 'But men say they were mingled in the thick press of the fight, and Lancelot knew not friend from foe, but struck down all that stood between him and the queen.'

For a space Sir Gawaine was silent, and men looked upon him with awe and compassion. His mane of hair, grizzled and wild, was thrown back upon his shoulders, and his eyes flamed with a glowing light as of fire. Suddenly he stepped up to the king, and lifting his right hand said, in a voice that trembled With rage:

'My lord, my king, and mine uncle, wit you well that now I make oath by my knighthood, that from this day I will seek Sir Lancelot and never rest till he be slain or he slay me. Therefore, my lord king, and you, my fellow knights and lords, I require you all to prepare yourselves for war; for, know you, though I ravage this land and all the lands of Christendom, I will not rest me nor slake my revenge until I come up to Lancelot and drive my sword into his evil heart.'

With that Sir Gawaine strode from the room, and for a space all men were silent, so fierce and full of hatred had been his words.

'I see well,' said the king, 'that the death of these twain knights will cause the deadliest war that hath ever raged, and never shall we have rest until Gawaine do slay Lancelot or is slain by him. O Lancelot! Lancelot! my peerless knight, that ever thou shouldst be the cause of the ruin of this my fair kingdom!'

None that heard the king could keep from tears; and many felt that in this quarrel the king's heart was not set, except for the sake of Sir Gawaine, his nephew, and all his kin.

Then there were made great preparations in London and all the lands south of Trent, with sharpening of swords and spears, making of harness and beating of smiths' hammers on anvils.

Men's minds were in sore distress, and the faces of the citizens were long and white with dismay. Daily the quarrel caused other quarrels. Many a group of knights came to high words, some taking the side of Lancelot and the queen, and others that of the king and Sir Gawaine. Often they came to blows, and one or other of their number would be left writhing and groaning on the ground.

Families broke up in bad blood by reason of it, for the sons would avow their intent to go and enlist with Lancelot, while the fathers, in high anger at such disloyalty to Arthur, would send their tall sons away, bidding them never to look upon their faces again.

Women sorrowed and wept, for whichever side they took, it meant that one or other of their dear ones was opposed to them, and would go to battle, fighting against those of their own kin and of their own hearths.

Towards midsummer the host was ready, and took the road to the north. The quarrel had been noised abroad throughout Britain, and many kings, dukes and barons came to the help of Arthur, so that his army was a great multitude. Yet many others had gone to Lancelot, where he lay in his castle of Joyous Gard, not far from Carlisle.

Thither, in the month of July, when the husbandmen were looking to their ripening fields and thinking of harvest, King Arthur and Sir Gawaine drew with their army and laid a siege against the castle of Joyous Gard, and against the walled town which it protected. But for all their engines of war, catapults which threw great stones, and ramming irons which battered the walls, they could not make a way into the place, and so lay about it until harvest time.

One day, as Queen Gwenevere stood at a window of the castle, she looked down at the tents of the besieging host, and her gaze lingered on the purple tent of King Arthur, with the banner of the red dragon on the pole above it. As she looked, she saw her husband issue from the tent and begin to walk up and down alone in a place apart. Very moody did he seem, as he strode to and fro with bent head. Sometimes he looked towards Joyous Gard, and then his face had a sad expression upon it which went to the queen's heart.

She went to Sir Lancelot, and said:

'Sir Lancelot, I would that this dreadful war were done, and that thou wert again friends and in peace with my dear lord. Something tells me that he sorrows to be at enmity with thee. Thou wert his most famous knight and brought most worship to the fellowship of the Round Table. Wilt thou not try to speak to my lord? Tell him how evil were the false reports of the conspiracy against him, and that we are innocent of any treason against him and this dear land.'

'Lady,' said Sir Lancelot, 'on my knighthood I will try to accord with my lord. If our enemies have not quite poisoned his thoughts of us, he may listen and believe.'

Thereupon Sir Lancelot caused his trumpeter to sound from the walls, and ask that King Arthur would hold a parley with him. This was done, and Sir Pentred, a knight of King Arthur's, took the message to the king.

In a little while King Arthur, with Sir Gawaine and a company of his counsellors and knights, came beneath the walls, and the trumpeters blew a truce, and the bowmen ceased from letting fly their arrows and the men-at-arms from throwing spears.

Then Sir Lancelot came down to a narrow window in the gate-tower, and cried out to the king:

'Most noble king, I think that neither of us may get honour from this war. Cannot we make an end of it?'

'Ay,' cried Sir Gawaine, his face red with anger, and shaking his mailed fist at Lancelot, 'come thou forth, thou traitor, and we will make an end of thee.'