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non, thereafter, came word to King Arthur that Ryence, King of North Wales, was making war upon King Leodegrance of Camelgard; whereat he was passing wroth, for he loved Leodegrance well, and hated Ryence. So he departed with Kings Ban and Bors and twenty thousand men, and came to Camelgard, and rescued Leodegrance, and slew ten thousand of Ryence’s men and put him to flight. Then Leodegrance made a great festival to the three kings, and treated them with every manner of mirth and pleasure which could be devised. And there had King Arthur the first sight of Guinevere, daughter of Leodegrance, whom in the end he married, as shall be told hereafter.
 
Then did Kings Ban and Bors take leave, and went to their own country, where King Claudas worked great mischief. And King Arthur would have gone with them, but they refused him, saying, “Nay, ye shall not at this time, for ye have yet much to do in these lands of your own; and we with the riches we have won here by your gifts shall hire many good knights, and, by the grace of God, withstand the malice of King Claudas; and if we have need we will send to ye for succour; and likewise ye, if ye have need, send for us, and we will not tarry, by the faith of our bodies.”
 
When the two kings had left, King Arthur rode to Caerleon, and thither came to him his half-sister Belisent, wife to King Lot, sent as a messenger, but in truth to espy his power; and with her came a noble retinue, and also her four sons—Gawain, Gaheris, Agravaine, and Gareth. But when she saw King Arthur and his nobleness, and all the splendour of his knights and service, she forbore to spy upon him as a foe, and told him of her husband’s plots against him and his throne. And the king, not knowing that she was his half-sister, made great court to her; and being full of admiration for her beauty, loved her out of measure, and kept her a long season at Caerleon. Wherefore her husband, King Lot, was more than ever King Arthur’s enemy, and hated him till death with a passing great hatred.
 
At that time King Arthur had a marvellous dream, which gave him great disquietness of heart. He dreamed that the whole land was full of many fiery griffins and serpents, which burnt and slew the people everywhere; and then that he himself fought with them, and that they did him mighty injuries, and wounded him nigh to death, but that at last he overcame and slew them all. When he woke, he sat in great heaviness of spirit and pensiveness, thinking what this dream might signify, but by-and-by, when he could by no means satisfy himself what it might mean, to rid himself of all his thoughts of it, he made ready with a great company to ride out hunting.
 
As soon as he was in the forest, the king saw a great hart before him, and spurred his horse, and rode long eagerly after it, and chased until his horse lost breath and fell down dead from under him. Then, seeing the hart escaped and his horse dead, he sat down by a fountain, and fell into deep thought again. And as he sat there alone, he thought he heard the noise of hounds, as it were some thirty couple in number, and looking up he saw coming towards him the strangest beast that ever he had seen or heard tell of, which ran towards the fountain and drank of the water. Its head was like a serpent’s, with a leopard’s body and a lion’s tail, and it was footed like a stag; and the noise was in its belly, as it were the baying or questing of thirty couple of hounds. While it drank there was no noise within it; but presently, having finished, it departed with a greater sound than ever.
 
The king was amazed at all this; but being greatly wearied, he fell asleep, and was before long waked up by a knight on foot, who said, “Knight, full of thought and sleepy, tell me if thou sawest a strange beast pass this way?”
 
“Such a one I saw,” said King Arthur to the knight, “but that is now two miles distant at the least. What would you with that beast?”
 
“Sir,” said the knight, “I have followed it for a long time, and have killed my horse, and would to heaven I had another to pursue my quest withal.”
 
At that moment came a yeoman with another horse for the king, which, when the knight saw, he earnestly prayed to be given him. “For I have followed this quest,” said he, “twelve months, and either I shall achieve him or bleed of the best blood of my body.”
 
It was King Pellinore who at that time followed the questing beast, but neither he nor King Arthur knew each other.
 
“Sir Knight,” said King Arthur, “leave that quest and suffer me to have it, and I will follow it other twelve months.”
 
“Ah, fool,” said the knight, “thy desire is utterly in vain, for it shall never be achieved but by me, or by my next of kin.”
 
Therewith he started to the king’s horse, and mounted to the saddle, crying out, “Grammercy, this horse is mine!”
 
“Well,” said the king, “thou mayest take my horse by force, and I will not say nay; but till we prove whether thou or I be best on horseback, I shall not rest content.”
 
“Seek me here,” said the knight, “whenever thou wilt, and here by this fountain thou shalt find me;” and so he passed forth on his way.
 
Then sat King Arthur in a deep fit of study, and bade his yeomen fetch him yet another horse as quickly as they could. And when they left him all alone came Merlin, disguised as a child of fourteen years of age, and saluted the king, and asked him why he was so pensive and heavy.
 
“I may well be pensive and heavy,” he replied, “for here even now I have seen the strangest sight I ever saw.”
 
“That know I well,” said Merlin, “as well as thyself, and also all thy thoughts; but thou art foolish to take thought, for it will not amend thee. Also I know what thou art, and know thy father and thy mother.”
 
“That is false,” said King Arthur; “how shouldst thou know? thy years are not enough.”
 
“Yea,” said Merlin, “but I know better than thou how thou wast born, and better than any man living.”
 
“I will not believe thee,” said King Arthur, and was wroth with the child.
 
So Merlin departed, and came again in the likeness of an old man of fourscore years of age; and the king was glad at his coming, for he seemed wise and venerable. Then said the old man, “Why art thou so sad?”
 
“For divers reasons,” said King Arthur; “for I have seen strange things to-day, and but this moment there was here a child who told me things beyond his years to know.”
 
“Yea,” said the old man, “but he told thee truth, and more he would have told thee hadst thou suffered him. But I will tell thee wherefore thou art sad, for thou hast done a thing of late for which God is displeased with thee, and what it is thou knowest in thy heart, though no man else may know.”
 
“What art thou,” said King Arthur, starting up all pale, “that tellest me these tidings?”
 
“I am Merlin,” said he, “and I was he in the child’s likeness, also.”
 
“Ah,” said King Arthur, “thou art a marvellous and right fearful man, and I would ask and tell thee many things this day.”
 
As they talked came one with the king’s horses, and so, King Arthur mounting one, and Merlin another, they rode together to Caerleon; and Merlin prophesied to Arthur of his death, and also foretold his own end.
 
And now King Arthur, having utterly dispersed and overwhelmed those kings who had so long delayed his coronation, turned all his mind to overthrow the Saxon heathens who yet in many places spoiled the land. Calling together, therefore, his knights and men-at-arms, he rode with all his hosts to York, where Colgrin, the Saxon, lay with a great army; and there he fought a mighty battle, long and bloody, and drove him into the city, and besieged him. Then Baldulph, Colgrin’s brother, came secretly with six thousand men to assail King Arthur and to raise the siege. But King Arthur was aware of him, and sent six hundred horsemen and three thousand foot to meet and fall on him instead. This therefore they did, encountering them at midnight, and utterly defeated them, till they fled away for life. But Baldulph, full of grief, resolved to share his brother’s peril; wherefore he shaved his head and beard, and disguised himself as a jester, and so passed through King Arthur’s camp, singing and playing on a harp, till by degrees he drew near to the city walls, where presently he made himself known, and was drawn up by ropes into the town.
 
Anon, while Arthur closely watched the city, came news that full six hundred ships had landed countless swarms of Saxons, under Cheldric, on the eastern coast. At that he raised the siege, and marched straight to London, and there increased his army, and took counsel with his barons how to drive the Saxons from the land for evermore.
 
Then with his nephew, Hoel, King of the Armorican Britons, who came with a great force to help him, King Arthur, with a mighty multitude of barons, knights, and fighting men, went swiftly up to Lincoln, which the Saxons lay besieging. And there he fought a passing fierce battle, and made grievous slaughter, killing above six thousand men, till the main body of them turned and fled. But he pursued them hotly into the wood of Celidon, where, sheltering themselves among the trees from his arrows, they made a stand, and for a long season bravely defended themselves. Anon, he ordered all the trees in that part of the forest to be cut down, leaving no shelter or ambush; and with their trunks and branches made a mighty barricade, which shut them in and hindered their escape. After three days, brought nigh to death by famine, they offered to give up their wealth of gold and silver spoils, and to depart forthwith in their empty ships; moreover, to pay tribute to King Arthur when they reached their home, and to leave him hostages till all was paid.
 
This offer, therefore, he accepted, and suffered them to depart. But when they had been a few hours at sea, they repented of their shameful flight, and turned their ships back again, and landing at Totnes, ravaged all the land as far as the Severn, and, burning and slaying on all sides, bent their steps towards Bath.
 
When King Arthur heard of their treachery and their return, he burned with anger till his eyes shone like two torches, and then he swore a mighty oath to rest no more until he had utterly destroyed those enemies of God and man, and had rooted them for ever out of the land of Britain. Then marching hotly with his armies on to Bath, he cried aloud to them, “Since these detestable impious heathens disdain to keep their faith with me, to keep faith with God, to whom I sware to cherish and defend this realm, will now this day avenge on them the blood of all that they have slain in Britain!”
 
In like manner after him spoke the archbishop, standing upon a hill, and crying that to-day they should fight both for their country and for Paradise, “For whoso,” he said, “shall in this holy war be slain, the angels shall forthwith receive him; for death in this cause shall be penance and absolution for all sins.”
 
At these words every man in the whole army raged with hatred, and pressed eagerly to rush upon those savages.
 
Anon King Arthur, dressed in armour shining with gold and jewels, and wearing on his head a helmet with a golden dragon, took a shield painted with the likeness of the blessed Mary. Then girding on Excalibur and taking in his right hand his great lance Ron, he placed his men in order and led them out against the enemy, who stood for battle on the slope of Badon Hill, ranged in the form of a wedge, as their custom was. And they, resisting all the onslaughts of King Arthur and his host, made that day a stout defence, and at night lay down upon the hill.
 
But on the next day Arthur led his army once again to the attack, and with wounds and slaughter such as no man had ever seen before, he drove the heathen step by step before him, backwards and upwards, till he stood with all his noblest knights upon the summit of the hill.
 
And then men saw him, “red as the rising sun from spur to plume,” lift up his sword, and, kneeling, kiss the cross of it; and after, rising to his feet, set might and main with all his fellowship upon the foe, till, as a troop of lions roaring for their prey, they drove them like a scattered herd along the plains, and cut them down till they could cut no more for weariness.
 
That day King Arthur by himself alone slew with his word Excalibur four hundred and seventy heathens. Colgrin also, and his brother Baldulph, were slain.
 
Then the king bade Cador, Duke of Cornwall, follow Cheldric, the chief leader, and the remnant of his hosts, unto the uttermost. He, therefore, when he had first seized their fleet, and filled it with chosen men, to beat them back when they should fly to it at last, chased them and slew them without mercy so long as he could overtake them. And though they crept with trembling hearts for shelter to the coverts of the woods and dens of mountains, yet even so they found no safety, for Cador slew them, even one by one. Last of all he caught and slew Cheldric himself, and slaughtering a great multitude took hostages for the surrender of the rest.
 
Meanwhile, King Arthur turned from Badon Hill, and freed his nephew Hoel from the Scots and Picts, who besieged him in Alclud. And when he had defeated them in three sore battles, he drove them before him to a lake, which was one of the most wondrous lakes in all the world, for it was fed by sixty rivers, and had sixty islands, and sixty rocks, and on every island sixty eagles’ nests. But King Arthur with a great fleet sailed round the rivers and besieged them in the lake for fifteen days, so that many thousands died of hunger.
 
Anon the King of Ireland came with an army to relieve them; but Arthur, turning on him fiercely, routed him, and compelled him to retreat in terror to his land. Then he pursued his purpose, which was no less to destroy the race of Picts and Scots, who, beyond memory, had been a ceaseless torment to the Britons by their barbarous malice.
 
So bitterly, therefore, did he treat them, giving quarter to none, that at length the bishops of that miserable country with the clergy met together, and, bearing all the holy relics, came barefooted to the king to pray his mercy for their people. As soon as they were led before him they fell down upon their knees, and piteously besought him to spare the few survivors of their countrymen, and grant them any corner of the land where they might live in peace. When he thus heard them, and knew that he had now fully punished them, he consented to their prayer, and withdrew his hosts from any further slaughter.
 
Then turned he back to his own realm, and came to York for Christmas, and there with high solemnity observed that holy tide; and being passing grieved to see the ruin of the churches and houses, which the rage or the pagans had destroyed, he rebuilt them, and restored the city to its ancient happy state.
 
And on a certain day, as the king sat with his barons, there came into the court a squire on horseback, carrying a knight before him wounded to the death, and told the king that hard by in the forest was a knight who had reared up a pavilion by the fountain, “and hath slain my master, a valiant knight, whose name was Nirles; wherefore I beseech thee, Lord, my master may be buried, and that some good knight may avenge his death.”
 
At that stepped forth a squire named Griflet, who was very young, being of the same age with King Arthur, and besought the king, for all the service he had done, to give him knighthood.
 
“Thou art full young and tender of age,” said King Arthur, “to take so high an order upon thee.”
 
“Sir,” said Griflet, “I beseech thee make me a knight;” and Merlin also advising the king to grant his request, “Well,” said Arthur, “be it then so,” and knighted him forthwith. Then said he to him, “Since I have granted thee this favour, thou must in turn grant me a gift.”
 
“Whatsoever thou wilt, my lord,” replied Sir Griflet.
 
“Promise me,” said King Arthur, “by the faith of thy body, that when thou hast jousted with this knight at the fountain, thou wilt return to me straightway, unless he slay thee.”
 
“I promise,” said Sir Griflet; and taking his horse in haste, he dressed his shield, and took a spear in his hand and rode full gallop till he came to the fountain, by the side of which he saw a rich pavilion, and a great horse standing well saddled and bridled, and on a tree close by there hung a shield of many colours and a long lance.
 
Then Sir Griflet smote upon the shield with the butt of his spear until he cast it to the ground. At that a knight came out of the pavilion and said, “Fair knight, why smote ye down my shield?”
 
“Because,” said Griflet, “I would joust with thee.”
 
“It were better not,” replied the knight; “for thou art young and but lately made a knight, and thy strength is small compared to mine.”
 
“For all that,” said Sir Griflet, “I will joust with ye.”
 
“I am full loath,” replied the knight; “but if I must I must.”
 
Then did they wheel their horses far apart, and running them together, the strange knight shivered Sir Griflet’s spear to fragments, and smote him through the shield and the left side, and broke his own spear into Sir Griflet’s body, so that the truncheon stuck there, and Sir Griflet and his horse fell down. But when the strange knight saw him overthrown, he was sore grieved, and hastily alighted, for he thought that he had slain him. Then he unlaced his helm and gave him air, and tended him carefully till he came out of his swoon, and leaving the truncheon of his spear in his body, he set him upon horse, and commended him to God, and said he had a mighty heart, and if he lived would prove a passing good knight. And so Sir Griflet rode to the court, where, by aid of good physicians, he was healed in time and his life saved.
 
At that same time there came before the king twelve old men, ambassadors from Lucius Tiberius, Emperor of Rome, and demanded of Arthur tribute unto Caesar for his realm, or else, said they, the emperor would destroy both him and his land. To whom King Arthur answered that he owed the emperor no tribute, nor would send him any; but said he, “On a fair field I will pay him his proper tribute—with a sharp spear and sword; and by my father’s soul that tribute shall he take from me, whether he will or not.” So the ambassadors departed passing wroth, and King Arthur was as wroth as they.
 
But on the morrow of Sir Griflet’s hurt, the king commanded to take his horse and armour secretly outside the city walls before sunrise of the next morning, and, rising a long while before dawn, he mounted up and took his shield and spear, and bade his chamberlain tarry till he came again; but he forbore to take Excalibur, for he had given it for safety into charge of his sister, Queen Morgan le Fay. And as the king rode at a soft pace he saw suddenly three villains chasing Merlin and making to attack and slay him. Clapping spurs to his horse, he rushed towards them, and cried out in a terrible voice, “Flee, churls, or take your deaths;” but they, as soon as they perceived a knight, fled away with the haste of hares.
 
“O Merlin,” said the king; “here hadst thou been killed, despite thy many crafts, had I not chanced to pass.”
 
“Not so,” said Merlin, “for when I would, I could have saved myself; but thou art nearer to thy death than I, for without special help from heaven thou ridest now towards thy grave.”
 
And as they were thus talking, they came to the fountain and the rich pavilion pitched beside it, and saw a knight sitting all armed on a chair in the opening of the tent. “Sir knight,” said King Arthur, “for what cause abidest thou here? to joust with any knight that passeth by? If so, I caution thee to quit that custom.”
 
“That custom,” said the knight, “have I followed and will follow, let whosoever will say nay, and if any is aggrieved at it, let him who will amend it.”
 
“I will amend it,” said King Arthur.
 
“And I will defend it,” answered the knight.
 
Then the knight mounted his horse and made himself ready, and charging at each other they met so hard that both their lances splintered into pieces. Then King Arthur drew his sword, but the knight cried out, “Not so; but let us run another tilt together with sharp spears.”
 
“I would with a good will,” said King Arthur; “but I have no more spears.”
 
“I have enough of spears,” replied the knight, and called a squire, who brought two good new lances.
 
Then spurring their horses, they rushed together with all their might, and broke each one his own spear short off in his hand. Then the king again put his hand to his sword, but the knight once more cried out, “Nay, yet abide awhile; ye are the best jouster that I ever met with; for the love of knighthood, let us joust yet once again.”
 
So once again they tilted with their fullest force, and this time King Arthur’s spear was shivered, but the knight’s held whole, and drove so furiously against the king that both his horse and he were hurled to the ground.
 
At that, King Arthur was enraged and drew his sword and said, “I will attack thee now, Sir knight, on foot, for on horseback I have lost the honour.”
 
“I will be on horseback,” said the knight. But when he saw him come on foot, he lighted from his horse, thinking it shame to have so great advantage.
 
And then began they a strong battle, with many great strokes and grievous blows, and so hewed with their swords that the fragments of their armour flew about the fields, and both so bled that all the ground around was like a marsh of blood. Thus they fought long and mightily, and anon, after brief rest fell to again, and so hurtled together like two wild boars that they both rolled to the ground. At last their swords clashed furiously together, and the knight’s sword shivered the king’s in two.
 
Then said the knight, “Now art thou in my power, to save thee or to slay. Yield therefore as defeated, and a recreant knight, or thou shall surely die.”
 
“As for death,” replied King Arthur, “welcome be it when it cometh; but as for yielding me to thee as a recreant because of this poor accident upon my sword, I had far liefer die than be so shamed.”
 
So saying, he sprang on the knight, and took him by the middle and threw him down, and tore off his helm. But the knight, being a huge man, wrestled and struggled in a frenzy with the king until he brought him under, and tore off his helm in turn, and would have smitten off his head.
 
At that came Merlin and said, “Knight, hold thy hand, for if thou slayest yonder knight, thou puttest all this realm to greater loss and damage than ever realm was in; for he is a man of greater worship than thou dreamest of.”
 
“Who then is he?” cried the knight.
 
“Arthur Pendragon!” answered Merlin.
 
Then would he have slain him for dread of his wrath, but Merlin cast a spell upon the knight, so that he fell suddenly to the earth in a deep sleep. Then raising up the king, he took the knight’s horse for himself and rode away.
 
“Alas,” said King Arthur, “what hast thou done, Merlin? hast thou slain this good knight by thy crafts? There never lived a better knight; I had rather lose my kingdom for a year than have him dead.”
 
“Be not afraid,” said Merlin; “he is more whole and sound than thou art, and is but in a sleep, wherefrom in three hours’ time he will awake. I told thee what a knight he was, and how near thou wast to death. There liveth not a better knight than he in all the world, and hereafter he shall do thee good service. His name is King Pellinore, and he shall have two sons, who shall be passing valiant men, and, save one another, shall have no equal in prowess and in purity of life. The one shall be named Percival, and the other Lamoracke of Wales.”
 
So they rode on to Caerleon, and all the knights grieved greatly when they heard of this adventure, that the king would jeopardise his person thus alone. Yet could they not hide their joy at serving under such a noble chief, who adventured his own life as much as did the poorest knight among them all.