Tristan and Iseult (8 page)

And he sprang up and turned to the doorway; but she was before him. ‘Then stay here, and be with me a little while, before we lose each other.’

So Tristan put his arms round her and held her fiercely close, and she clung to him so they were together as a honeysuckle clinging to a hazel tree.

But when the night was over, they sailed with the morning tide.

WHEN THEY CAME
to the landing beach below Tintagel, Iseult of Ireland stood in the bows of the ship, wearing her most brilliant gown, and the royal goldwork in her hair; and Tristan stood beside her, ready to lead her ashore. Their ship had been sighted from afar by the lookouts on the high castle headland, and King Marc, who had known of their coming since Gorvenal reached him with the whole story two days before, had come down to the landing beach to greet his bride, the Princess of the Swallow’s Hair.

And when the ship came to rest beside the timber jetty, and Tristan took Iseult’s hand to aid her over the side and lead her to where the King stood waiting, it was as cold as ice.

King Marc looked down at her, and said, ‘Until now, I thought this marriage would be for the binding together of an old rift between Cornwall and Ireland, but now I know that it is also for making music in my heart.’ And he took both her hands between his own. ‘Your hair is as red as flame, but your hands are so cold. Yet mine are big enough to warm them.’ And he stood looking down at her a moment, before he drew her to him and stooped his head and kissed her.

And Tristan, turning aside to greet old friends and old enemies, thought, He loves her, too! Dear God in Heaven, the King loves her, too!

Eighteen days later, King Marc and the Princess were married. Iseult was no more Iseult of Ireland but Iseult of Cornwall; and her place was beside the King, and the gold circlet of a queen was on her head. And for a long time, or it seemed a long time to them, Tristan never looked her way nor she his; and the old bond between Tristan and the King his uncle was as it had been before.

So all the autumn and the winter went by, and the year turned back to spring, and then one day when the gorse was in flower along the headlands, Tristan came upon the Queen in the little garden that clung to the rocks below the castle; and she was looking towards Ireland and weeping. And all his love for her that he had pushed far down into his dark and deepmost place, came rushing up to the light again; and he put his arms round her and held her close and kissed her as he had done in the little hut among the elder trees. And after that there was no going back for either of them to where they had been before.

As ill-fortune would have it, they were seen by another nephew of the King’s, Andret by name, who was jealous of Tristan. And from then on, Andret spied upon them until he was sure; and then he went to the King and told him that there was love between Tristan and the Queen.

The King would not believe him. ‘You have always been jealous of Tristan since first he came from Lothian,’ he said.

‘I do but tell you the truth, for I cannot bear to see you so wronged.’

‘You could bear very well to see me wronged,’ said the King. ‘You do but tell me what you think will
harm Tristan in my eyes. Tristan has proved his faith to me in a score of ways, he is the champion of Cornwall, and it was he who brought my Queen to me in the first place –’

‘How do you know what they were to each other before ever he gave her into your hands?’

‘– and I will not believe ill of him unless I see the thing with my own eyes.’

‘But if you do see the thing with your own eyes?’ said Andret eagerly.

‘Then I will believe, and not till then.’

And the King set his mind against what Andret had told him, and swore in his heart that he would not watch his wife nor Tristan, the two people he loved best in the world. But despite himself, it was as though Andret’s words had pulled some kindly mist from before his eyes, and he began to notice the glances that passed between them across the Hall, and the way Iseult grew still at the sound of Tristan’s voice. And then one day, coming quickly into the women’s apartments he found them with their arms round each other, and Iseult’s red hair falling all about them both. And they sprang apart as he came in.

‘So Andret spoke truth,’ said the King.

‘And what truth was that?’ said Iseult, gathering up her hair.

‘He told me that there was love between Tristan and you; and I would not believe him. I told him that I would not believe until I saw the thing with my own eyes. I trusted you both.’

‘Trust us still,’ said Iseult. I do love Tristan, why should I not? He is your kinsman, and mine. I nursed
him when he was sick enough to die, and he is become like a brother to me. And in the way that I love him, so he loves me.’

‘I wish that I could believe you,’ said the King. I would give all that I possess to be able to believe you.’ And to Tristan he said, ‘She shall be to me as she was before, as though nothing of this had happened. But you must leave my Court.’ And he spoke gently, but his hand was on his sword.

And Tristan went, he and Gorvenal, and took lodgings with an old swordsmith in the town inland of the castie.

‘It would be better that we go far away from here,’ said Gorvenal. ‘Let us go and seek adventure elsewhere.’

‘More dragons to kill?’ said Tristan, and he laughed, with his head in his hands. ‘Dear, sensible Gorvenal, it would be best that we go to the farthest ends of the earth. But I can no more leave the Queen than I can pluck the living heart out of my breast.’

Now it was coming on to high summer, and at that time of year, when there was peace in the land, the King and his Court would leave the grim castle on its headland, and spread out into the wooden halls and bowers among the gardens and the little hardy apple orchards on the landward side. The Queen had lodgings of her own close beside a little stream that flowed out of the woods and went purling down to the cove below the castle, so that it was always cool on the hottest August days.

And the Queen sent Brangian by night with a message to Tristan’s lodging, bidding him find means to meet her, if he would not have her die of longing to
be with him again. And Tristan sent back word: ‘Keep a watch at twilight on the stream that flows past your bower, and if a branch comes floating by, keep watch still; and if a piece of bark carved with a five-pointed star comes floating after, then I shall be waiting under the wild pear tree where the stream comes out of the woods, and it will be safe for you to come to me.’

So every twilight, Iseult or Brangian watched the stream, until one evening the branch followed by the five-pointed star came floating down, and then the Queen slipped out and away in the dusk, to find Tristan waiting for her under the wild pear tree. And after this happened the first time, it happened many times again.

And then Andret, and the lords who followed him, began to wonder whether Tristan and the Queen had parted indeed, or whether they had found means to meet in secret. And Andret went to a certain dwarf about the Court, a man who he had befriended from time to time; a man who possessed ancient skills and could read the answers to all questions in the stars, and bade him find out whether or no the Queen and Tristan were still lovers. So the dwarf looked into the stars all one long night, and said, ‘The Queen and the Lord Tristan are still meeting in secret, and if the King comes with me, he shall see them for himself.’

And Andret took the dwarf to the King. ‘Give out that you are going on a hunting trip, but turn back. This night, thinking you safe away, they will meet under the big wild pear tree where the stream comes out of the woods.

‘Is this the truth?’ said the King.

‘Come with me and see,’ said the dwarf, ‘and if I lie, you have my fell leave to cut off my head.’

‘If you lie, I shall not ask your leave,’ said the King.

So the King called for his horses and hounds and rode out as though for hunting, giving it out that he would be gone seven days. But before he was half a day’s ride from Tintagel, he made an excuse to leave the rest of the hunting party to go on without him, and turned back to where the dwarf was waiting. Together they went to where the wild pear tree grew on the edge of the woods, and the King helped the dwarf up into it and then climbed up after him.

Dusk came, and a moon rose over the hills, casting its snail-shine of silver across the sky. And with the moon, Tristan came up the stream-side. He broke off a branch from the pear tree and sent it down the stream, then pulled a piece of bark from one of the ancient silver birches close by, and sat down on the bank to scratch with his dagger the five-pointed star that would call Iseult out to him, and sent it after the branch. And all the while the King and the dwarf watched him through the branches overhead.

Now just below the tree, where Tristan sat, the stream broadened into a little pool and the water was quiet under the bank; and as the moon rose higher it turned the surface of the water to a trembling mirror, so that Tristan, leaning forward, could see his own head and shoulders reflected in it, and the dark branches of the pear tree beyond – and clear against the moonlight, the outline of two figures among the branches!

Then Tristan knew that Andret or maybe even the King himself, or both of them, were watching him, watching for Iseult. And there was nothing he could do; the branch and the star had long since gone on
their way, and Iseult would be coming swiftly in answer. He had no means of warning her, and if he went away she would come, and finding no one there, might betray herself to the watchers in the tree. Even if he went to meet her and turn her back, they had seen him send the message, and would guess the meaning of what they saw. There was nothing to be done but wait for her to come, and try to warn her under their watchful gaze. And if he failed, it would be death for them both, he knew that; and for himself, he was past caring overmuch; but for her . . .

He gave no sign of what he had seen, but sat quietly waiting. And as he waited he heard once or twice a faint rustle that was not the wind in the branches overhead.

Iseult received his message, and as usual slipped away with Brangian’s help and hurried gladly to meet her love. But when she came near to the tree, and saw Tristan sitting on the bank, he never moved, and this seemed strange to her, for usually at first sight of her coming, he would leap up and come striding to catch her in his arms. And so she walked more slowly herself. And as she drew nearer still, he made a tiny gesture of warning towards the tree behind him. And glancing up, she saw the shadows of the two watchers in the branches. And she understood.

So she said, cool and clear, ‘My Lord Tristan, why did you send for me?’

‘I must speak with you alone,’ said Tristan, ‘for I sorely need your help.’

‘My help? In what way would that be?

‘To soften the King’s unjust anger towards me, that I may return to Court, for it is an ill thing to be ordered from his presence like a disobedient hound; and all men talk against me.’

‘They talk against both of us,’ said Iseult, ‘and the fault is yours, for you should have remembered that we are not indeed brother and sister, and that therefore we cannot be together freely as brother and sister would be, without setting dark suspicions in people’s minds.’

‘If I should have remembered, should not you?’ demanded Tristan.

‘I should indeed, but you are a man and wiser than I, and so you must bear the chief blame.’

‘I will bear it gladly, if you help me, Iseult; would you not help your brother?’

‘Not if he had brought the anger of my lord upon me,’ said Iseult; and all the while, she was aware to her fingertips of the listeners overhead in the pear tree, and she made a sob come into her voice – which indeed was not hard. ‘I have been sick at heart through your fault, for I cannot be happy while my lord looks at me coldly and with doubt in his eyes. Now, if you ever felt a brother’s fondness for me, go away, and leave me to win back my lord’s love as best I may.’

And Tristan bent his head as though in defeat. ‘If you will not help me, then you will not, and I will never be asking you anything again. Go home now, and a good night to you, Iseult.’

And Iseult turned and walked away down the stream-side; while Tristan stood and watched her go, and heard again the faint rustling in the tree above him, that was not the wind. And then he turned and walked away also, with his head on his breast. There was a sickness in his belly and a foul taste in his mouth, and he hated Iseult in that moment, almost as much as he hated himself.

Then among the branches of the pear tree King Marc drew his dagger and turned upon the dwarf beside him. But the dwarf saw the silver flash of the blade in the moonlight, and dropped from the branch and ran, doubling and twisting like a hare, and was
away into the woods before the King could catch him.

And the stream ran on, quietly under the moon.

Next morning, King Marc went to the Queen in her bower, and told her how he had been hiding in the tree, and had heard all that passed between her and Tristan the night before, and begged her to forgive him, and make peace again between him and Tristan.