Part 92

'Alas,' said the king, 'this is to me a full heavy sight, to see this noble knight so die for my sake. He would not complain, so set was he to help me, and now his heart has broken.'

Then Sir Bedevere went to his brother and kissed him, and closed his eyes.

'Now,' said the king, 'come hither to me, Bedevere, for my time goeth fast and I remember me of a promise. Therefore,' he bade Sir Bedevere, 'do thou take Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it beyond the combe side there where a low thorn grows, and when thou comest there, I charge thee, throw my sword in that water, and come again and tell me what thou seest.'

So Sir Bedevere departed with the sword, and on the way he looked at the sword, and saw how noble was the blade and how shining, and how the pommel and haft were full of precious stones.

'If I throw this sword into the water,' said Sir Bedevere to himself, 'how great a sin 'twould be to waste so noble a weapon.'

Therefore he hid it in the branches of the thorn and returned to the king.

'What sawest thou?' asked the king when Bedevere returned.

'Sir,' he said, 'I saw the wind beat on the waves.'

'Ye have not done as I bid thee,' said the king. 'Now, therefore, do thou go again and do as I bid thee; and as thou art dear to me, spare it not, but throw it in.'

Then Sir Bedevere went back and took the sword in his hand; but again he could not bring himself to throw away that noble sword, so again he hid the sword and went back to the king.

'What sawest thou this time?' said the king.

'Lord,' said Bedevere, 'I saw the waters ebb and flow and the sedges trembling.'

'Ah, traitor untrue!' said the king, deep sorrow in his voice, 'who would have weened that thou who hast been so true and dear to me, and who hast been named a noble knight, would betray me for the jewels on a sword? Now go ye again, I charge thee, and as thou shalt answer for thy sins at the last day, throw ye the sword far into the waters.'

Then in heavy mood Sir Bedevere went the third time, and took the sword from its hiding-place, and looking away from the weapon lest its beauty should soften him, he bound the girdle about the hilt, and then he threw the sword with all his might far out over the water.

As he looked, inwardly lamenting, he saw the jewels flash in the low light as the sword passed through the air. Then suddenly, when it neared the water, he marvelled to see a great arm and hand come up through the waves. The hand caught the weapon by the haft, shook it and brandished it thrice, and then vanished with the sword under the waves.

With some fear in his heart Sir Bedevere went back to the king and told him all that he had seen.

'It is well,' said the king. 'Now have I performed my promise. Help me hence to some village, for I am cold and would die beneath a roof, if I may.'

Then Sir Bedevere took the king upon his back, thinking that he would find some road in a little while which should lead them to a hamlet. And as he went along, he passed by the waterside, near the low thorn whence he had thrown the sword into the water.

There, in the sedges, he marvelled to see a barge draped all in black cloth, and in it sat many fair ladies, all with black hoods on. When they saw Sir Bedevere with the king upon his back, they shrieked and wept.

And one that looked a queen, so fair and stately, yet so sad was she, held out her arms towards the king, and cried unto him in a voice wondrous sweet, 'Come to me, brother!'

'Put me into the barge,' said the king to Bedevere, 'for there I shall have rest.'

Softly did Sir Bedevere lay him in the barge, and the fair ladies wept over the king with much mourning, and one laid his head in her lap and caressed it with soft hands.

Then, without sails or oars, the barge went from the shore, and fear and sorrow shook the soul of Sir Bedevere to see them go from him.

'Alas, my lord Arthur,' he cried, 'what shall become of me if ye are leaving me lonely?'

'Comfort thyself,' said the king in a faint voice, 'and do as well as thou mayest, for in me ye may no longer trust. For I will go into the vale of Avalon to heal me of my grievous wound, and if thou hear never more of me, pray for my soul.'

Sir Bedevere stood watching till the barge went from his sight in the mists of evening, and then he wept a little, and so fared forward through the night, weeping as he thought how all the glory that was Arthur's was now past, and how he himself was very old and very lonely.

When morning broke he was aware of a little chapel and a hermitage between two hoar woods upon a knoll beside the marshes, and entering therein he got cheer of the holy hermit and rested.

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