In the Court of King Arthur Part 17

"I seek a youth, companion of ours, who had strayed from us and who mayhap, has met with foul adventure. His name is Breunor le Noire. Do you or the knight who is your master here know aught of him?" So spoke Sir Gareth disdaining the insolence in the tone of the other.

"It may be that we do. Wait you here, while I make return to the castle to find the answer for you."

Therewith the knight left them to stand in front of the castle gates and made his own way back to the house.

"He is an ill bred knave," said Allan hotly. "To think that such as he holds knighthood."

"Knighthood," said the ex-kitchen boy, "is merely a cloak. And I find, Allan, that it is a garment that is only seemly when he who dons it wears it well. Yet this is no time for anger. Of what matter that this knight is ill bred. If there is any quarrel I shall seek it with his master."

"Think you that they know of his whereabouts?" asked Allan. "I liked not the manner in which he made answer."

"Nor I. But I doubt not we shall know more surely within the next few moments."

Nor did the two have long to wait. For there came from the castle another who seemed to be the high lord. In armor and shield, carrying lance and riding a great black horse, he stood out from among the knights who followed him.

When he came to the gates they were opened wide for him. Then as he saw Sir Gareth and the boy, he made them a sweeping courtesy.

"Forgive our boorishness, Sir Gareth. Pray to enter our humble lodging. Are you then Prince of Orkney?"

"I am so known," replied the young knight. "Yet I seek to be known as Gareth, Knight of the Round Table. I know not your name, Sir Knight, but I find your courtesy welcome."

But now Allan had noted how the knight's manner had changed. No longer did he seem kindly; instead a dark scowl frowned his face.

"I am Sir Brian de les Isles," was the answer. But the voice was no longer a voice that welcomed, instead it was menacing and stern.

But Sir Gareth seemed to take no note of this. "I seek, Sir Brian, to find a youth who accompanied us. His name is Breunor le Noire, and he seemed to have met with foul adventure."

"Not foul, Sir Gareth, but only such as is meet for all of King Arthur's henchmen."

"Then, I take it, you know of him and of his whereabouts," said Sir Gareth. Still was his manner mild, yet forked lightning seemed to flash from his eyes.

"That we do," replied the other. "He is indeed in safe keeping, such keeping being no other than ours."

"I must trouble you, Sir Knight, to make return of him to us."

"And if I will not?" questioned Sir Brian. Insolence was in his tone, a sneering smile was on his lips.

"I take it, if you will not release him you will fight me as would any honorable knight."

"That will I. Right gladly and to the uttermost, Sir Gareth. For all knights of the Round Table, I am sworn foe."

Then there began a battle such as there was seldom seen. Confidence was in Sir Brian's every move, and truly it would seem that this young knight, still unknown in the field of chivalry, was but a poor adversary to one of the best known of England's knights.

But if Sir Gareth was young, if he was but little known, yet the skill at which Sir Launcelot had marveled, stood him in good stead. This, Sir Brian soon realized. As steel met steel, the older knight knew that his adversary was no mean one.

So they battled for a time, neither of them gaining advantage over the other. Great strength was Sir Brian's, but it was matched by skill and quickness of thrust and parry.

Allan, a lone figure, the only one of the group a.s.sembled to stand for Sir Gareth, watched the struggle with bated breath. This boy who had seen men like Sir Launcelot, Sir Tristram, Sir Percival and others of almost equal repute, found his friend no less able and bold. Clenched were his hands, tense the boyish figure, as with heart and soul afire he watched the two knights.

But soon it became evident that unless untoward happening occurred the outcome of the brave fight was but a matter of time. Slowly, yet surely Sir Brian gave ground. Slowly but surely Sir Gareth pressed him. All the cunning of his foe availed him naught. To the last Sir Brian fought bitterly, silently. His heart held bitterness over the probable outcome, over the youthfulness of the victor to be.

Now as he parried a bold stroke of the other, for each of them had turned to swords long before, there came a flash of steel and Sir Brian felt a great nausea overcome him. Then he knew nothing more for a long time.

He came to later. Eager hands were ministering to him. Feebly he turned, not knowing for the moment why all of this should be. Then his eyes beheld the victor and the boy next to him and he realized what had taken place.

"Sir Gareth," he murmured, as his knights moved aside in response to the weak gesture of his hand, "yours are a victor's spoils. Well have you fought and won."

"Sir Brian," the other replied, "I seek but Breunor le Noire and the release of such knights as you may hold who owe lealty to king Arthur.

You are a brave knight, would that your cause were worthy you."

Now Sir Brian called one of his knights to him. The latter followed by Sir Gareth and Allan made their way to the dungeon of the castle.

There they found their companion, there too, they found the other knights of the Round Table who had been made prisoners by those within the castle. Great was their joy at release and warmly they thanked their fellow knight.

And now there came a knight to them and told of how well Breunor had fought and what difficulty they had had to make him prisoner.

"If this youth fights but half as well as do the two we have seen, you do indeed make a formidable trio."

Then the three rejoined the Lady Linet and the next morn they were well on their way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Knight of the Red Lawns

Events followed swiftly thereafter for their journey toward the castle of the Dame Lyoness was not made on easy road. Yet through all these, good fortune stayed with them and so at least they were within a day's journey of their destination.

Word had come to the Red Knight of the Red Lawns of the coming of Sir Gareth. Word too had come to him of the brave deeds of this knight and his two companions. Yet did the Red Knight find naught in it all but cause for great merriment.

"Truly will their courage ooze from them when they behold those many knights hanging from yonder oaks, knights who thought to battle with me and so rescue the Dame Lyoness. Nor did I blame them overmuch, for it is well worth hanging for, perchance to win a smile from so fair a lady. Would that I could be so fortunate."

So said the Red Knight and sighed. No crueler knight there was in all of Christendom yet was he gentle minded in his love for his fair lady.

And though he would not free her of his presence and though he held her closely besieged within the castle, yet had he no desire that harm should come to her.

Now he again made his way to her castle wall where his herald did blow his slughorn and announce that the Red Knight of the Red Lawns besought the light of the lady's countenance and also word with her.

After a due wait there came forth on a balcony within the wall a lady who was indeed beautiful. Straight she held herself, straight and direct her look. Soft brown hair, and her eyes shaded from a dark to lighter brown as they flashed her moods.

Fine was her face, a face of true n.o.bility and gentleness.

And as the Red Knight beheld her, his voice grew gentle, his words strangely softspoken.

"My lady, I am your loyal knight. I pray you to listen to me as I pledge again my loyalty and homage."

There was scorn in the lady's voice, as she cast a withering look upon the knight.

"Soft are your words, Sir Knight. Yet if I do not do the cat a great injustice it is the same softness as is hers when she spies her prey.