The Tale of Balen Part 3

"Ah," Merlin said, "sore pity it is And strange mischance of doom, I wis, That death should mar their quest.

"Balen, the perfect knight that won The sword whose name is malison, And made his deed his doom, is one: Nor hath his brother Balan done Less royal service: not on earth Lives there a n.o.bler knight, more strong Of soul to win men's praise in song, Albeit the light abide not long That lightened round his birth.

"Yea, and of all sad things I know The heaviest and the highest in woe Is this, the doom whose date brings low Too soon in timeless overthrow A head so high, a hope so sure.

The greatest moan for any knight That ever won fair fame in fight Shall be for Balen, seeing his might Must now not long endure."

"Alas," King Arthur said, "he hath shown Such love to me-ward that the moan Made of him should be mine alone Above all other, knowing it known I have ill deserved it of him." "Nay,"

Said Merlin, "he shall do for you Much more, when time shall be anew, Than time hath given him chance to do Or hope may think to say.

"But now must be your powers purveyed To meet, ere noon of morn be made To-morrow, all the host arrayed Of this wild foe's wild brother, laid Around against you: see to it well, For now I part from you." And soon, When sundawn slew the withering moon, Two hosts were met to win the boon Whose tale is death's to tell.

A lordly tale of knights and lords For death to tell by count of swords When war's wild harp in all its chords Rang royal triumph, and the hordes Of hurtling foemen rocked and reeled As waves wind-thwarted on the sea, Was told of all that there might be, Till scarce might battle hear or see The fortune of the field.

And many a knight won fame that day When even the serpent soul of Kay Was kindled toward the fiery play As might a lion's be for prey, And won him fame that might not die With pa.s.sing of his rancorous breath But clung about his life and death As fire that speaks in cloud, and saith What strong men hear and fly.

And glorious works were Arthur's there, That lit the battle-darkened air: But when they saw before them fare Like stars of storm the knight that bare Two swords about him girt for fray, Balen, and Balan with him, then Strong wonder smote the souls of men If heaven's own host or h.e.l.l's deep den Had sent them forth to slay.

So keen they rode across the fight, So sharp they smote to left and right, And made of hurtling darkness light With lightning of their swords, till flight And fear before them flew like flame, That Arthur's self had never known, He said, since first his blast was blown, Such lords of war as these alone That whence he knew not came.

But while the fire of war waxed hot The wild king hearkened, hearing not, Through storm of spears and arrow-shot, For succour toward him from King Lot And all his host of sea-born men, Strong as the strong storm-baffling bird Whose cry round Orkney's headlands heard Is as the sea's own sovereign word That mocks our mortal ken.

For Merlin's craft of prophecy, Who wist that one of twain must die, Put might in him to say thereby Which head should lose its crown, and lie Stricken, though loth he were to know That either life should wane and fail; Yet most might Arthur's love avail, And still with subtly tempered tale His wile held fast the foe.

With woven words of magic might Wherein the subtle shadow and light Changed hope and fear till fear took flight, He stayed King Lot's fierce l.u.s.t of fight Till all the wild Welsh war was driven As foam before the wind that wakes With the all-awakening sun, and breaks Strong ships that rue the mirth it makes When grace to slay is given.

And ever hotter lit and higher, As fire that meets encountering fire, Waxed in King Lot his keen desire To bid revenge within him tire On Arthur's ravaged fame and life: Across the waves of war between Floated and flashed, unseen and seen, The l.u.s.trous likeness of the queen Whom shame had sealed his wife.

But when the woful word was brought That while he tarried, doubting nought, The hope was lost whose goal he sought And all the fight he yearned for fought, His heart was rent for grief and shame, And half his hope was set on flight Till word was given him of a knight Who said: "They are weary and worn with fight, And we more fresh than flame."

And bright and dark as night and day Ere either find the unopening way Clear, and forego the unaltering sway, The sad king's face shone, frowning: "Yea, I would that every knight of mine Would do his part as I shall do,"

He said, "till death or life anew Shall judge between us as is due With wiser doom than thine."

Then thundered all the awakening field With crash of hosts that clashed and reeled, Banner to banner, shield to shield, And spear to splintering spear-shaft, steeled As heart against high heart of man, As hope against high hope of knight To pluck the crest and crown of fight From war's clenched hand by storm's wild light, For blessing given or ban.

All hearts of hearkening men that heard The ban twin-born with blessing, stirred Like springtide waters, knew the word Whereby the steeds of storm are spurred With ravenous rapture to destroy, And laughed for love of battle, pierced With pa.s.sion of tempestuous thirst And hungering hope to a.s.suage it first With draughts of stormy joy.

But sheer ahead of the iron tide That rocked and roared from side to side Rode as the lightning's lord might ride King Lot, whose heart was set to abide All peril of the raging hour, And all his host of warriors born Where lands by warring seas are worn Was only by his hands upborne Who gave them pride and power.

But as the sea's hand smites the sh.o.r.e And shatters all the strengths that bore The ravage earth may bear no more, So smote the hand of Pellinore Charging, a knight of Arthur's chief, And clove his strong steed's neck in twain, And smote him sheer through brow and brain, Falling: and there King Lot lay slain, And knew not wrath or grief.

And all the host of Orkney fled, And many a mother's son lay dead: But when they raised the stricken head Whence pride and power and shame were fled And rage and anguish now cast out, And bore it toward a kingly tomb, The wife whose love had wrought his doom Came thither, fair as morning's bloom And dark as twilight's doubt.

And there her four strong sons and his, Gawain and Gareth, Gaherys And Agravain, whose sword's sharp kiss With sound of h.e.l.l's own serpent's hiss Should one day turn her life to death, Stood mourning with her: but by these Seeing Mordred as a seer that sees, Anguish of terror bent her knees And caught her shuddering breath.

The splendour of her sovereign eyes Flashed darkness deeper than the skies Feel or fear when the sunset dies On his that felt as midnight rise Their doom upon them, there undone By faith in fear ere thought could yield A shadowy sense of days revealed, The ravin of the final field, The terror of their son.

For Arthur's, as they caught the light That sought and durst not seek his sight, Darkened, and all his spirit's might Withered within him even as night Withers when sunrise thrills the sea.

But Mordred's lightened as with fire That smote his mother and his sire With darkling doom and deep desire That bade its darkness be.

And heavier on their hearts the weight Sank of the fear that brings forth fate, The bitter doubt whose womb is great With all the grief and love and hate That turn to fire men's days on earth.

And glorious was the funeral made, And dark the deepening dread that swayed Their darkening souls whose light grew shade With sense of death in birth.

VI

In autumn, when the wind and sea Rejoice to live and laugh to be, And scarce the blast that curbs the tree And bids before it quail and flee The fiery foliage, where its brand Is radiant as the seal of spring, Sounds less delight, and waves a wing Less l.u.s.trous, life's loud thanksgiving Puts life in sea and land.

High hope in Balen's heart alight Laughed, as from all that clamorous fight He pa.s.sed and sought not Arthur's sight, Who fain had found his kingliest knight And made amend for Balen's wrong.

But Merlin gave his soul to see Fate, rising as a sh.o.r.eward sea, And all the sorrow that should be Ere hope or fear thought long.

"O where are they whose hands upbore My battle," Arthur said, "before The wild Welsh host's wide rage and roar?

Balen and Balan, Pellinore, Where are they?" Merlin answered him: "Balen shall be not long away From sight of you, but night nor day Shall bring his brother back to say If life burn bright or dim."

"Now, by my faith," said Arthur then, "Two marvellous knights are they, whose ken Toward battle makes the twain as ten, And Balen most of all born men Pa.s.seth of prowess all I know Or ever found or sought to see: Would G.o.d he would abide with me, To face the times foretold of thee And all the latter woe."

For there had Merlin shown the king The doom that songs unborn should sing, The gifts that time should rise and bring Of blithe and bitter days to spring As weeds and flowers against the sun.

And on the king for fear's sake fell Sickness, and sorrow deep as h.e.l.l, Nor even might sleep bid fear farewell If grace to sleep were won.

Down in a meadow green and still He bade the folk that wrought his will Pitch his pavilion, where the chill Soft night would let not rest fulfil His heart wherein dark fears lay deep.

And sharp against his hearing cast Came a sound as of horsehoofs fast Pa.s.sing, that ere their sound were past Aroused him as from sleep.

And forth he looked along the gra.s.s And saw before his portal pa.s.s A knight that wailed aloud, "Alas That life should find this dolorous pa.s.s And find no shield from doom and dole!"

And hearing all his moan, "Abide, Fair sir," the king arose and cried, "And say what sorrow bids you ride So sorrowful of soul."

"My hurt may no man heal, G.o.d wot, And help of man may speed me not,"

The sad knight said, "nor change my lot."

And toward the castle of Melyot Whose towers arose a league away He pa.s.sed forth sorrowing: and anon, Ere well the woful sight were gone, Came Balen down the meads that shone, Strong, bright, and brave as day.

And seeing the king there stand, the knight Drew rein before his face to alight In reverence made for love's sake bright With joy that set his face alight As theirs who see, alive, above, The sovereign of their souls, whose name To them is even as love's own flame To enkindle hope that heeds not fame And knows no lord but love.

And Arthur smiled on him, and said, "Right welcome be thou: by my head, I would not wish me better sped.

For even but now there came and fled Before me like a cloud that flies A knight that made most heavy cheer, I know not wherefore; nor may fear Or pity give my heart to hear Or lighten on mine eyes.

"But even for fear's and pity's sake Fain were I thou shouldst overtake And fetch again this knight that spake No word of answering grace to make Reply to mine that hailed him: thou, By force or by goodwill, shalt bring His face before me." "Yea, my king,"

Quoth Balen, "and a greater thing Were less than is my vow.

"I would the task required and heard Were heavier than your sovereign word Hath laid on me:" and thence he spurred Elate at heart as youth, and stirred With hope as blithe as fires a boy: And many a mile he rode, and found Far in a forest's glimmering bound The man he sought afar around And seeing took fire for joy.

And with him went a maiden, fair As flowers aflush with April air.

And Balen bade him turn him there To tell the king what woes they were That bowed him down so sore: and he Made woeful answer: "This should do Great scathe to me, with nought for you Of help that hope might hearken to For boot that may not be."

And Balen answered: "I were loth To fight as one perforce made wroth With one that owes by knighthood's oath One love, one service, and one troth With me to him whose gracious hand Holds fast the helm of knighthood here Whereby man's hope and heart may steer: I pray you let not sorrow or fear Against his bidding stand."

The strange knight gazed on him, and spake: "Will you, for Arthur's royal sake, Be warrant for me that I take No scathe from strife that man may make?

Then will I go with you." And he Made joyous answer: "Yea, for I Will be your warrant or will die."

And thence they rode with hearts as high As men's that search the sea.