Arthur Rex (67 page)

Now the horses’ hoofs tore all the grass from the field and turned the earth to dust, and a great cloud of it obscured the sun, and the day became night, and the darkness was a place of crashing steel and terrible cries from men and animals, but the dust was settled by the torrents of blood which poured from the bodies when the flesh was hacked and limbs were severed. And when the sun reappeared the field was as a lake of red mud, and everywhere were enmired dead men in whole or in pieces.

And Sir Launcelot’s cousins Bors and Lionel killed many hundreds of Angles and Saxons, and Sir Bedivere did fell whole ranks at a time, and Sir Kay did himself kill scores, for being Arthur’s knight of least prowess was yet to be a great champion amongst foreigners, and he ran through Saxons as he had once spitted capons.

Yet the dastardly enemy did surround some knights two hundred to one, and while those in front distracted an hero, those behind did hamstring him with axes, and when he fell they filled every part of his body with blades till there was room for no more. And so eventually perished an hundred of the knights of the Round Table, the finest men on earth, who never fought except for the cause of good.

And after three hours there were left only fifty of King Arthur’s men, and only one thousand Saxons, and all the horses on both sides had gone down, and all fought on foot.

Now amongst these bodies lay King Arthur, and he was not dead though mortally wounded by the hand of his bastard son Mordred, the most wicked man who ever breathed. And Mordred was hiding behind one of the great stones at Stonehenge, where he watched everybody else killing one another, for this gave him great pleasure, and he looked forward to the hour, which must come soon, when all other noblemen would be dead and he would be unique in his existence, and emperor of all of Britain and Germany as well.

Now lying in his swoon of death King Arthur was visited by the ghost of Sir Gawaine his late nephew.

And seeing him as a shade King Arthur said, “My dear Gawaine, I am unhappy to see thee thus! I had hoped that thou, left behind, might assume the throne when I died, and preserve it against the great felon Mordred.”

“Nay,” said Sir Gawaine’s ghost, “I can do nothing palpably, Uncle, for my body lies rotting and provideth dinner for the worms. I have come to give you spiritual succor.”

“Alas!” said King Arthur, “we shall all join thee soon in Purgatory, Gawaine, for methinks we have today gone the noble Pyrrhus one better! For he survived his terrible victory, whereas I am dying. But Mordred liveth!”

“Then you must not die yet, Uncle,” said the ghost of Sir Gawaine. “You have one duty left.”

“Yea,” said King Arthur, “to kill mine own son. Well, I think I can not, Gawaine. Perhaps there was some justice in the triumph of perfect evil over imperfect virtue, which is to say, of tragedy over comedy. For have I not been a buffoon?”

“Uncle,” said the shade of Sir Gawaine, “there is no man who hath not believed the same of himself in very bad times, and verily we are all fools for we live but temporarily, and beneath our armor we wear human skin, which is to say, motley. But the difference between a great man and a mere entertainer is that the former doth seek to please no audience but God, and thus he goeth against the mean instincts of humanity: the prevarications of vanity, the sentimentalizing of envy, the cowardice of greed, the slothful molesting of the weak, for all these are to celebrate nothing and to despise everything. And though man be eternally contemptible, he should not be contemptuous of that which he can achieve.”

“Methinks I have achieved nothing, Gawaine!” King Arthur cried. “For amongst our company we had every human failing, and have we been better, except in rhetoric, than these barbarians, in killing whom we die ourselves?”

“Yea!” said the ghost of Sir Gawaine. “For can we not say, without the excessive pride which is sinful, that we lived with a certain gallantry?”

Now despite the grim conditions of this interview King Arthur could not but be some amused by the obsession of Sir Gawaine even as a ghost.

“Dost mean we none of us mishandled ladies?” smiling said he to the shade of his brave nephew.

“What I meant rather,” said Sir Gawaine’s solemn spirit, “is that we sought no easy victories, nor won any. And perhaps for that we will be remembered.”

And then his ghost did vanish, and King Arthur awakened. And he saw about him all the carnage. And he could not rise, for he was so weak, and from his bosom protruded the handle of Excalibur. And again he did swoon, and in his sleep there came to him the Lady of the Lake.

And to her he said, “Lady, surely you have come to take back your sword, the which hath killed me.”

But the lady said, “Nay, King Arthur, thou art not dead yet. Thou shalt rise and use Excalibur one time more, and then thou shalt return it to me in the proper way.”

“Lady,” said King Arthur, “I would ask why you attended me only in the beginning of my reign and thereafter no more? And methinks you led Merlin away as well, leaving me altogether without magical counsel. Lady, I could have used some! For ’twas reality that brought me down, and I had no defense against it.”

“King Arthur,” said the Lady of the Lake, who was gleaming in white samite, “the passions are not real, but rather fantastic. Thou couldst not have done better than thou didst.”

“Yet,” said King Arthur, “was I wise to tolerate the friendship between Launcelot and Guinevere for so many years? I know that I thereby connived in a Christian sin.”

“Address me not in Christian sentiments,” said the Lady of the Lake, “the which I find too coarse for fine kings. Thine obligation was to maintain power in as decent a way as would be yet the most effective, and a Camelot without Guinevere, a Round Table without Launcelot, were inconceivable, as would be an Arthur who put to death his best friend and his queen. All human beings must perform according to their nature.”

Now King Arthur did wonder at this speech, and he said, “Then the will is not free? And can we not choose to be either good or evil, but are selected for whichever?”

“This is the wrong question,” said the Lady of the Lake, “being political and not concerned with the truth. And do not chide me for abandoning thee, my dear Arthur, for I am here now, and I urge thee to rise and to do what is necessary for the completion of thy legend.” And then she vanished in a shimmer of whiteness.

And King Arthur awoke, and from his breast he pulled Excalibur, as he had in the beginning pulled the first sword from the stone, and wondrously he bled no more.

And then he went to look for Mordred.

N
OW THROUGH ALL THIS
AWFUL BATTLE
, Sir Galahad had lain in a swoon of illness in the wood, and he was not long for this world, and though he was the greatest knight of all he had taken no part in this greatest battle of all time.

And there was now only a remnant left of the noble company of the Round Table, and among them were his father Sir Launcelot and his best friend Sir Percival, and brave sirs Lionel and Bors, and that good man Sir Bedivere, and gallant Sir Kay the seneschal. And all the other gallant knights were now dead. And of the Angles and the Saxons there remained three hundred.

Now of Arthur’s remaining knights all were wounded but sirs Launcelot and Percival, and each of these had killed a thousand Germans without being touched. And Sir Launcelot, who believed that all of his life had been but a waiting for this day, was only disappointed to find so few of the enemy yet standing, for the more fighting he did, the stronger he grew, and after five hours he had more prowess than that with which he had begun. And never in the history of the world had there been such a knight as Sir Launcelot, and many Saxons fell dead before they felt his sword, for they could not endure his blazing eyes, and his armor streamed with the bright blood of his enemies, and his sword was white-hot and charred the flesh which it cut.

But no one could have seen in what Sir Percival was his inferior, and sometimes Percival would hack one German in twain with his sword whilst seizing another around the neck-armor and breaking off his head in the crook of his mighty arm. And Sir Percival, who was a naïve knight, did take no pleasure nor pain from this fight, but he did merely what he believed he ought to do as a knight of the Round Table. And withal he found time to worry about his sick friend Sir Galahad, and oft, having cleared his portion of the field of Saxons, he went within Stonehenge where Galahad lay and he bathed his friend’s head with cool water and he cleansed his chin and breast of the blood he had coughed out. And having done this Sir Percival would return to the fray.

Now at length Sir Launcelot had been so invigorated by the fighting as marvelously to cure the grievous wounds of his right arm, the which he had received from Mordred and then again in the fight with Sir Gawaine, and he was quite whole. And some of the Saxons raised some horses which had fallen, and they remounted and they charged upon the remnant of the knights of the Round Table. And Sir Launcelot from the ground killed one of these mounted Germans, and he took his steed and his lance, the which had a trimming of fur beneath its steel head, and with it he soon slew all of the riders.

Now at just that time Sir Galahad did awaken from his swoon and he heard the din of battle, and though he was grievous weak he knew his duty and therefore he put on his armor, the which was clear and shining, for it had never been used, and he took up his shield, which was pure white and with a red cross upon it, and his horse had been tethered behind the stones, and he mounted it.

And then he rode onto the field, on which there was, far off, but one mounted man amidst a waste of fallen bodies of men and horses, and in the middle distance were a few of King Arthur’s knights and they were fighting an horde of Saxons on foot. And Sir Galahad rode his horse carefully through the corses until he found a clear place, and he could see that the other rider was a German from his round shield and his fur-tipped lance, and when he was two hundred yards from him he put his lance in fewter and he spurred his horse and he charged upon him.

Now Sir Launcelot was amazed to see a mounted knight come from nowhere wearing shining armor, for all here, friend or foe, if yet standing were covered with red gore and their armor was all hacked and broken. And soon he came to believe that this knight was the vile Sir Mordred, who had cowardly hidden himself after starting this battle, for he had looked everywhere for him, to kill him so that he could do no more harm to King Arthur. And as if he did not hate him enough, Sir Launcelot was incensed that such a felon would display upon his shield an Holy Cross.

Therefore he put his own lance in the rest and he spurred his beast, and thus the two greatest knights in the history of the world did charge each other, and they were father and son, though neither knew it.

And never did Sir Launcelot have more prowess than at that moment, and never was Sir Galahad weaker, and he had barely the strength to hold himself in the saddle while supporting the lance, yet he persisted in his duty to fight this vicious enemy of virtue (as he mistakenly supposed him).

Now when they met there was such a tremendous shock as to shake the earth so that it cracked open for an instant and the smoke and fumes of Hell poured reeking forth and a near-by river turned to steam and for ten leagues about the trees lost all their bark and their leaves and all the birds were hurled lifeless to the earth, and the giants in the distant mountains were shaken by such a violent tremor that they were transformed into dwarfs (and never afterward was a giant seen in all of Britain). And so far away as at London shooting stars were seen in broad daylight and horses screamed like peacocks and cats did kill and eat dogs.

And Sir Launcelot’s lance brake against the red cross of Sir Galahad’s shield, but Sir Galahad’s steel point went through the ironbound Saxon shield as though it were made of straw, and then it penetrated his father’s breastplate and the chain mail beneath, and through his skin and flesh and bones, and then through his stout heart and tore it from his body.

And Sir Launcelot plunged dead to the earth.

And with this effort Sir Galahad had exhausted all the strength he would ever have, and he fell beside his father and he could not get up.

Now from where he fought afoot, Sir Percival saw this charge and he recognized both knights (for no one sat a horse like the great Launcelot, despite his foreign shield and lance), but Percival was too far away for them to hear his cry of anguish. And therefore he watched Sir Galahad slay his father unwittingly, and then he saw him fall himself. And then Sir Percival went to that place.

“Well, Percival my friend,” said Sir Galahad, “I have been of little use here today, God wot!”

“Do not speak so,” said Sir Percival. “Thou hast felled thy man! I knew this Saxon, Galahad, when I traveled in Germany, and there was no fiercer knight in all the world. Till now he was invincible.”

“Ah, Percival, thou must not tell kind lies to thy dear friend when he is dying,” said Galahad.

And Sir Percival did have great grief in his heart, and he cursed himself for his naïvete which made him a poor dissembler.

But then what Sir Galahad said was this. “Nay, Percival, he was not much of a knight, methinks, even for a Saxon, and he put but the tiniest scratch on my shield, whereas I slew him with a lance the which I could hardly keep steady! Nay, my friend, I have done nothing which I should be proud to have my father know of.”

And then Sir Galahad coughed terribly and he could hardly breathe thereafter. And then feebly he said, “My dear friend, I had hoped to see my father once before I died. Is he upon the field?”

And striving to keep back his tears Sir Percival held his friend in his arms, and he said, “Yea, Galahad, Sir Launcelot doth live! For where could he ever meet his match on the entire earth! Rest here awhile, for he must deal with the remaining felons, and I must go to join him. Then I shall fetch him to thee.”