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 The Enchanted World

LEGENDS OF VALOR
by Brendan Lehane
and the Editors of Time-Life Books

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Chapter One

Lords of the Chariot

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A Champion's Schooling in Another World . 34
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 Chapter One

B%? |
ords of the Chariot
and the Spear

n the days of Ireland's glories, chobar's cadre were like most Celts of that
when the island was divided into five war- time —brilliant and fearless in battle, unit-
ring kingdoms and the jet black ravens ed as brothers against Conchobar's foes
of the battle goddess wheeled above the and quarrelsome as fighting cocks among
shield-shaped hills, there came to his themselves. The current fraternal dispute
prime a warrior named Cuchulain. As it had dragged on for months, while Ulster
was for all warriors in those days, youth remained at uneasy peace with its neigh-
was a time of testing, and the tests he faced bors. The three finest of the Red Branch
were many and harsh. knights could not agree on who was the
Cuchulain was a Red Branch knight— proven champion of the realm, and close
one of a warrior band whose title derived though they were, the rivalry for
from the fact that the men served Concho- that signal honor divided them.
bar of Ulster, a King descended from Not wishing to court enmity
Ross the Red. The young men of Con- by choosing one man
To determine the greatest of Ulster's warriors, a giant proposed a test: He would
allow the men to behead him ifbe could return the blow. The giant, unlike
the men, could pick up bis severed head and walk away alive.

above another, Conchobar had sent the His loins were swathed in cowhide and his
three for judgment to the Queen of Con- shoulders in a cloak of matted wool. In
nacht in the west and the King of Munster one massive fist he carried a log as easily as
in the south. But the judgment of the ordinary men carried clubs of Derry oak.
Queen satisfied no one, and the King of In the other rested an ax.
Munster—aman ofmagic, always elusive — Slowly, each footstep reverberating
could not be found. On Conchobar's or- against the roof beams, the figure strode to
ders a truce prevailed among the three the hearth. Waves of his body heat envel-
knights: Loegaire the Triumphant, Conall oped those he passed. All heads turned
of the Victories and Cuchulain. But it was _ with hisprogress, but nobody spoke. The
a sullen truce. terrifiedseetailstumed under os bel-
That was the situation one winter's eve-
ning at the House of the Red Branch in
‘Conchobar's hill fort of Emain Macha ;
Conchobar had invited his \
ia ofCee while me
clown," crieda voice, and Loegaire the Tri- all of the Victories, ready to defend Ul- |
umphant leaped to the center of the hall. ster's honor. The same murderous com-
"Kneel, then,” he said to the giant. “I pact was struck: a head fora head. As Loe-
give you my word: | cut off your head gaire had, Conall swung the ax, the blood
tonight, you cut off mine tomorrow." of Uath the Stranger spurted as before. As
Uath knelt and laid his head upon the before, the headless giant left the feasting
log. With a mighty effort, Loegaire raised hall. And as before, the Ulsterman was ab-
the giant's ax high. Down came the blade, sent on the next night, when it came his
whistling its death song. It struck through turn to brave the blade.
the giant's neck, and the creature's head 1AA)
lolled and then thumped onto the flag-
stones of the floor. Great gouts of blood n the flickering firelight stood Uath the
spurted from the trunk. Stranger, and he laughed at the weak-
Speechless and white-faced, Loegaire willed Ulster knights. “Two of the best
stepped back and stared. For after an in- have failed me," said he. “And where is the
stant, the body rose to its feet, the lack of a proud stripling Cuchulain? Lily-hearted,
ead making no difference to its steadiness like the rest."
and poise. It took the ax from Loegaire's _ Then Cuchulain rose from the bench
erveless hands, it picked up the head, where he sat that night. He spoke coolly
thing the hair to its chest so that blood enough. He told the giant to keep his bar-
d in scarlet rivulets down to its legs. gain for fools. Why, he asked, would a
ooked outward, as glo _sensible man throw his life away for the
: ake of beheading a creature that could
rstore its devil's form by trickery? The
ant bellowed with laughter. He called
cuchulain coward and spineless child.
e taunts did the trick, Crimson with
and rage, Cuchulain sprang from his
1 to the center of the hall; strong in
e snatched the ax and swung it,
lath's head. spinning in bloody
yen the head fell, Cu-
the edge of the ax.

d arkness.
id. Cuchulain
 Only the bero Cuchulain, for the sake of his honor, bad the courage to
place bis neck upon the block and wait for the giant's death blow.

lipped and white-faced, but he was there. would doubt the fairness of his decision.
The Red Branch knights drew back from The King of Munster spoke then:
him, as from one marked for death. On his He told the company that Cuchulain
raised bench, Conchobar the King— with was the King's champion. Only Cuchulain
Fergus beside him — waited impassively. had refused the fool's bargain, Loegaire
The door swung open and the faces and Conall had accepted it, then failed in
turned toward it. Uath strode in once valor. Only Cuchulain had struck in the
more. He called Cuchulain’s name. heat of rage—a rashness appropriate and
Cuchulain walked stiffly to the center even necessary to a warrior. Only Cuchu-
of the hall and knelt to take the blow. His lain had proved his contempt of death by
head trembled. His pale face glistened bending his head for the giant's blow.
‘with the sweat offear, but he kept his place In that uncertain age, it mattered that
while the giant towered over him. the question of the champion’s precedence
The ax swung up— its blade silvered by have an answer. It was not only for the
the firelight—and paused in the air. honor of the thing that the Ulstermen
“Stretch out your neck better,” the named champions. So long as the ques-
giant commanded. tion of valor remained open, there was di-
“Save your breath and cease your taunt- vision and quarreling in the king's hall,
ing,” Cuchulain snapped. “Strike swiftly, and Ulster stayed weak from squabbling
as | did." He bent his head again. with itself. No one disputed the king's au-
The giant's eyes gleamed as the ax hur- thority —kings were born with that—but
tled down. A hoarse gasp left a hundred standing alongside the king there had to
throats, the beginning of the Red Branch’s be his champion, his hero. If the king sym-
mourning for the loss of its own. bolized the land itself and all of its people,
But there was no loss. The giant's ax his heroic champion stood for their war-
blade shattered the stones on which Cu- rior spirit and fought for them in battle
chulain knelt. The young warrior himself The hierarchy of bravery had to be estab-
rose to his feet unharmed and turned to lished and acknowledged as well as the
face Uath the Stranger. hierarchy of state. A tribe without a hero
was a piteous and vulnerable thing.
For in the earliest age of heroes, order
ath had disappeared. In his place was fragile, and the boundaries between
stood Curoi of Munster-— that king- nations were as fluid as the rivers that
dom of magical mists and mountains far to marked the clearest and most defensible
the south of Ulster—he who had been so of them. Tribes moved massively across
strangely absent when the rival knights Europe like herds of animals, searching
presented themselves for his judgment. for forage and shelter and for other,
Curoi had come at Conchobar’s asking to weaker tribes, whose wealth could be tak-
settle the quarrel of the Ulster champions en and whose people enslaved. Migration
in full view of their peers, so that none seemed endless, and warfare and feuding
were an almost permanent state of affairs. way innately different, more closely
This was so for centuries: Civilization linked than their fellows to the other
and order advanced, but they advanced world, where magic reigned. Their moth-
slowly, and for defense they depended on ers were often mortal princesses—it was
the strong arms of the valiant. From Cu- not given to the daughters of peasants to
chulain's time, when Celtic warriors bring forth heroes. But the women con-
fought from chariots, relying for protec- ceived in curious ways, and people whis-
tion on leather shields, to the age of King pered that the gods or members of the fairy
Arthur, when armored men fought on race brought about the conceptions.
horseback, every kingdom needed cham- Thus in the Aegean lands, the hero Per-
pions. These were the greatest and most seus was said to have been fathered by
valorous of the warriors who fought the Zeus, who appeared to Perseus’ mother,
king's battles for him and sat in high places Danae, in a shower of gold. And indeed,
in his hall; these heroes were the diamonds Perseus had supernatural help throughout
that sparkled in his crown. his adventures; even his accouterments
were enchanted, so that he had the powers
of both flight and invisibility (page 15). In
heir bright valor still shines across later times and other places, similar stories
the years. Indeed, they conducted were told. It was said that the Volsung—
their lives so that their names might the grandfather of the hero Sigurd—had in
breathe forever in the words of poets and him the blood of the war god Odin. Andas
all others who cherish bravery. And their for Cuchulain, the poets sang that his fa-
deeds were not forgotten —the storytellers ther was the Irish sun god, Lugh.
sang for centuries the legends of the brave. At any event, Cuchulain’s birth was cer-
They told of Cuchulain and the Red tainly mysterious. Cuchulain’s mother,
Branch knights and of a later Irish hero, according to one version of the tale, was
Finn Mac Cumal, with his band of warriors Dechtire, sister of King Conchobar. On
ever guarding the Irish shore against in- the day she married a lord called Sualtim,
vaders. Scandinavian bards immortalized Dechtire drank a cup of wine; a mayfly
Bothvar Bjarki, who wielded his magical flew into the cup and she swallowed it.
sword in the service of the King of Den- She fell then into a deep sleep, and in
mark, and Sigurd the Volsung fought be- her dream, the sun god, Lugh, appeared.
side the Germanic Nibelungs. In the more Lugh said that he had taken the mayfly's
rarefied light of a later age came Arthur of form in order to enter her, and he sum-
Britain and the knights of the Round Ta- moned heraway, whereupon Dechtire and
ble—Lancelot and Gawain, Percival and her maidens took the shape of beautiful
Bors, Tristram and the matchless Galahad. birds linked each to the other by chains
The most renowned of them were not as of gold and silver. This dazzling flock
other mortals. They were braver, it is true, flew far from Emain Macha and sheltered,
but the greatest heroes were also in some it was said, in the underground world
of the Side—the fairy race of Ireland. open gate might reveal a white-capped sea,
Nothing was heard of Dechtire for a full stretching to infinity and dotted with is-
year. Then a flock of birds appeared at lands where monsters lived, or a rolling
Emain. Macha and led Conchobar and his plain where silent warriors marched.
knights to a palace in the south of UI- °
ster. In the palace the King found his
sister, she had given birth to a son—he very day but one, an Irish hill
who would one day be called Cuchulain — might present a bland and grassy
and she told the King of her dream. The flank to those who toiled in the fields
King gave the infant the name of Setan- around it, but on the night of that one
ta and, for courtesy’s sake, the title day, the hillside might open wide to reveal
Son of Sualtim to spare the pride of Dech- another, twilight land within, crowded
tire's husband. Then Conchobar left the with the shining beings of the Side, who
child secluded in his mother's keeping, dwelt, as was well known, within the hol-
far from the royal fortress at Emain Ma- low hills. Such a hill was found in Con-
cha, until he should reach the age for nacht. That was the mound at Cruachan,
warrior's training. where the warrior Queen Maeve had her
Orso the storytellers said. And indeed, ~ fortress. On the night of Samain, the Celt-
the adventures of Cuchulain’s short life re- ic night of the dead, which marked the
vealed that like other heroes he had links division between summer and winter,
with a world beyond the fields and farms strange creatures issued from that mound.
and fortresses that formed the landscapes Goblins crawled forth, along with scarlet
of ordinary men. birds and three-headed vultures. Ordinary
In the young age of creation, the di- folk stayed close to home then, having no
visions between the familiar world of wish to encounter the inimical beings hid-
humankind and other dimensions were den beyond the borders of their lives.
ever shifting. The ordered universe of tree But it was the fate of heroes, extraordi-
and rock and cloud, where the hours nary themselves, to cross the boundaries
marched in measured pace marked by the of the ordinary. That fate was clear not
progress of the sun, was open to magic and only from the circumstances of the heroes’
to strange beings ruled by patterns no births but also from the patterns of their
mortals understood. childhoods. Destined for strange ven-
The boundaries of the other worlds tures, young heroes like Cuchulain were
were elusive and always changeable: Any hidden away and sedulously protected
form of divider or border line in the mortal while they were vulnerable. Thus the
world might at some point prove a portal young hero Finn Mac Cumal was kept
to the realm of wonders. An ordinary gate throughout his childhood from the sight
in a wall might open every day but one of the warriors of Ireland— particularly
onto an ordinary meadow, grazed by plac- those who had killed his father and
id sheep. On a certain day, however, the usurped Finn's rightful inheritance; Finn's
son, Oisin, was reared in a secluded moun- traveler passed, she would put Setanta in
tain glen by a deer (page 17). Much later, his care so that the boy would have a spon-
Merlin the Enchanter— who by magic had sor in seeking admission to the court.
arranged the conception of King Arthur— But the impetuous Setanta would not
hid the boy Arthur until he was ready to wait. He learned the direction in which
assume his kingdom. Emain Macha lay, and set off alone to seek
his fortune, carrying nothing but his min-
iature javelin and his hurling stick and
hen the time was ripe and the ball. The stick and ball were the imple-
youths were ready, they came ments of a field game that resembled hock-
forth from their seclusion to join the war- ey and was favored as a sport for fledgling
riors’ world and receive their training, their warriors because the strokes strengthened
arms, their adult names—given for the the muscles and developed balance and
qualities they displayed—and their right- dexterity. But Setanta’s skills were already
ful places. They generally were amazingly surpassing. It was later said that as he trod
young when this occurred: Cuchulain was the long miles across the Ulster moors and
only seven and still bore his child's name, through the forests, he amused himself by
Setanta, when he left his mother's house. throwing ball, stick and javelin ahead of
It happened that during his childhood he him, then running to catch them all before
heard much of the court at Emain Macha. they could fall to the ground.
He heard descriptions of the fortress, of Whether or not that was true, it was
the warriors of the Red Branch, of the boys certainly true that the boy conducted him-
in training to join that splendid company self valiantly. Little attention was paid to
and of King Conchobar. Of the King the seven-year-old as he passed through
bards sang: “In form and shape and dress, Conchobar's fortress gates. He wandered
in size and straightness and symmetry, in among lounging soldiers and serving peo-
eye and hair and whiteness, in wisdom and ple until he found the field by the
skill and speech, in garments and splendor thatched Boys’ House, where the children
and array, in weapons and amplitude and of the court were trained.
dignity, in manners and feats of arms and Shouting in deafening chorus, a crowd
descent, there was not on earth the figure of boys battled at hurling on the muddy
of a man like the figure of Conchobar." field. Without a moment's hesitation, Se-
And fired by this lofty vision of the tanta sprang among the players and cap-
King—who was, after all, his uncle—Se- tured the ball; wiry and agile, he darted
tanta grew restless. His toy weapons were through the crowd and drove the ball
nothing to him now. He demanded his home. He then turned at the goal and
mother Dechtire's leave to go to Emain faced a cluster of larger children.
Macha, but she only smiled and said that “Common,” said one. “Ill-behaved,”
he was too young and the way too far. She said another. “The stranger has no right
told him that when a proper and well-born to join us.” Fists clenched, the children
AA gitt of magic weaponry
Heroes were human and yet greater
than human. They dared to venture
beyond the mortal world and, in their
daring, often found more than mortal
aid. This was so in the north, where
Irish heroes lived and fought. And it
was true as well in the sunny isles of
Greece, where once lived Perseus, a
warrior who was given a frightful task
by a King who wished him dead.
Perseus’ mission was to take the
head of Medusa. But this was mani-
festly impossible, for Medusa was a
Gorgon, a winged monster whose very
appearance turned men to stone.
Magic furnished Perseus with the
tools to complete the quest. Athe-
na, the goddess of wisdom, lent him
her polished shield; Hermes, the mes-
senger of the gods, gave him a sword.
But more than that, Hermes took the
young warrior to the land at the back
of the North Wind, where nymphs
armed him with enchantments: They
gave Perseus winged sandals with
which he could fly, a wallet that could
hold whatever was put in it and a hel-
met of invisibility
So, buoyed like a bird and trans-
parent as the wind, Perseus found the
Gorgons where they laired. Wings
folded, hairamass of seething snakes,
the creatures slept. Perseus did not
look at them. He watched their re-
flections in his shield and, thus guid-
ed, beheaded Medusa where she lay
among her sisters
With the head safely hidden in his
wallet, he flew to his home island.
There he found the King among his
courtiers, and Perseus had his re-
venge. He drew the head from the wal-
let and held it before the King's face
Even in death the Gorgon magic
worked. The King was rendered into
stone where he stood.

15
 advanced upon Setanta. A few threw their and arrow. The boys learned the ways of
hurling sticks straight at the intruder. horses and the handling of teams. The
Setanta dodged and charged his tor- Celts of that time fought from two-
mentors. Howling with fury, he dashed in wheeled chariots — and with such skill that
among the older boys, kicking and punch- they awed the enemies who fought them,
ing, biting and scratching. One by one, he including such sophisticated commanders
brought them down and smashed their as Julius Caesar, who once wrote: “By dai-
smug faces into the mud—until the uproar ly training and practice, they attain such
drew the attention of a king’s man and the proficiency that even on a steep incline
fight was stopped. The older boys were set they are able to control the horses at full
to training exercises under the stern eye of gallop, and to check and turn them in a
a man-at-arms. Setanta, the collar of his moment. They can run along the chariot
tunic held firmly in a large fist, was taken pole, stand on the yoke and get back into
to Conchobar. The child's fierce courage the chariot as quick as lightning."
made an impression on the King. Ina qui- The child Setanta grew strong and skill-
et, kindly voice, Conchobar asked Setanta ful. Sooner than the others, he acquired
whence and from whom he had come. his man’s name and the arms of a man,
When Conchobar learned Setanta’s showing the spirit that made a man a war-
name and family, he welcomed the child as rior of the first rank.
his own and sent him to join the boys’ His man’s name derived from his own
troop, where the children worked out their actions. In those days, smiths —the forgers
differences in the rough-and-ready fash- of weapons—were revered by king and
ion that children have always used. Con- commoner alike, so when Culann, the
chobar, however, recalled a prediction most famous of Ulster smiths, invited
made at Setanta’s birth—that he would be King Conchobar to feast with him, the
praised by chariot drivers and fighters and King accepted gladly. He summoned Se-
loved by all, that he would avenge the tanta, the pride of his fledglings, to join
King's wrongs and defend the King’s fords him as soon as the day's training was done.
and fight the King’s battles. Conchobar When the afternoon light began to slant
therefore provided the boy with the best across the playing field and the boys re-
of foster fathers as teachers: Sencha, chief turned to their quarters, Setanta set off for
judge of Ulster, Amergin the poet; Blai the the smith’s house, following the track of
lord marshal of the troops, and Fergus, the King’s chariots. He walked for an hour
kinsman and chief adviser to the King. or so, throwing a golden hurling ball
They loved the boy and taught him well. ahead of him as was his habit, and at last
For some time, the boy Setanta’s life came upon the high stockade that fortified
passed like that of any other royal child. the house of Culann the smith.
He spent his days at Emain Macha, prac- The gate was shut and barred with iron.
ticing with spear, javelin, sword and short Forgetting that the boy was coming, Cu-
sword, with battle-ax and sling; with bow lann had called the (continued on page 21)

16
ee

SSS OSS SESSA

3

he workings of magic often figured in tales

about the begetting of heroes. Such was
the case with Finn Mac Cumal and his son.
Finn was chief of the warriors of the
Fianna, a band that defended Ireland's
shores from invasion. In times of peace,
these warriors rejoiced in the pleasures of
the hunt, riding furiously with their
hounds across the Irish hills and through
the deep green glens. It happened once that as they neared the end of a
hunting day and turned toward Finn's fortress on Leinster's Hill of
Allen, a fawn stepped into their path. It gazed fearlessly at the men and
then bounded away. At once the hunters gave chase, but so fleet was
the animal that only Finn kept pace. After a while, the fawn looked
back at him as if in recognition, it stopped in a clearing and lay down.
Finn watched from horseback while his hounds, Bran and Sko-
lawn, sniffed the creature. Instead : 7ae NEALE ROIS 8
of attacking, they settled down be-
side it. When Finn observed them at
- peace with the prey, he signaled his
approaching men to restrain their
dogs, lest the fawn be harmed.
Then he led the hunting party to
the fortress, with the fawn trotting
among the hounds.
That night, the warriors feasted I
in Finn's hall. The dogs lolled |

WB8E5 S345 Bayi es:

around them, snuffling for scraps on the floor, and the fawn wan-
dered freely, watching Finn with soft brown eyes. At last, when the
torches guttered and the men settled down to sleep, the creature
picked its way through the dogs to Finn's side. He smiled at it, and
when he did so, the fawn vanished.
In its place stood a woman as fair as a flower. She spoke in a voice
like the whispering of the wind, explaining to Finn that she was a
woman of the fairy folk from the other world hidden beneath the Irish
hills. She had been changed into fawn shape by a wizard of the fairy
folk whose love she had spurned. The man had made her a beast,
speechless and vulnerable. He had imprisoned her and used her so
cruelly that one of his own slaves took pity and told her to take refuge
with Finn, whose fortress was proof against the wizard's spells.
Finn listened and loved her, and that same night she gave herself
to him. Then he found he could not bear to leave her side. Since she
could not venture from the safety of the fortress, he stayed with her.
Such was his love that,
against all custom, he ceased
to hunt and fight. The war-
riors grumbled, but Finn,
lost in love, heard nothing,
or if he heard, paid no heed.
The day came, however,
when Finn had to leave his
bride. Invaders threatened
the Irish shore, and honor
demanded that he lead the
Fianna to battle. His wife
stayed behind, safe in his
fortress on the Hill of Allen.
Orso he fondly thought.
When, seven days later, he
returned victorious to the for-
tress, his wife was gone. Anx- [es oF
ious servants told the story: § a
Soon after Finn left, aman in § ae
Finn's likeness — accompanied, }
or so it seemed, by Finn's own
hounds—had ridden to the
gates. Finn's wife, arms wide
and skirts flying, had danced
out joyfully to meet him. But
as soon as she crossed the
threshold, the man— who was .
not Finn—struck her with a hazel wand. Where the wife had been,
there stood a fawn. The man led the little animal from sight.
So by a ruse, the wizard took the woman again. Finn grieved
alone while his warriors paced restlessly and talked of enchantment.
At last the leader emerged from his chambers, grim and determined.
He led his men out into the country, and they began to search.
They searched in vain for seven years: The ways of wizards were
devious in those days, and the warriors found no sign of the fawn
woman. Life slowly resumed its course of fighting and hunting. Finn
spoke no more of the woman, but he brooded when he was alone.
News of her fate came in a way that was both sad and wonderful.
One autumn morning, as he hunted with his men on the slopes of the
mountain Benbulben, Finn heard his hounds baying among the trees.
He rode to them and found Bran and Skolawn standing together
against the pack. Behind them crouched a boy. Finn called off the
dogs and summoned the child. The man looked down at a wild-
haired boy clothed in rags and in that boy saw the image of himself.
He took the boy to his fortress and in the months that followed
tamed him; ‘the child needed that, for he was as savage as any for-
est creature. He was Finn's son, however. Finn knew it, and as the

ee e-TAKE DALLAS |
HIGH SCHOOL LIBRARY 3 49
P< Ne
§ 3 ers 9 - =
rar,
é =I

child learned the human tongue, Finn pieced his history together.
The only life the child recalled was this: for home, a mountain
glen walled by sheer cliffs; for companionship, a deer. From time to
time a dark man intruded upon the mountain prison, speaking to
the deer in words the child could not understand. The man ap-
peared and disappeared over the years, at last, however, he struck
the animal with a hazel wand. Bowing to the magic, the deer fol-
lowed him from the glen with only one long look at the child from
its soft brown eyes. The boy cried out, but blackness overcame him,
and when he awoke, he was among Finn's hounds.
Thus Finn learned that his wife had been taken as a prisoner
to the other world and that she had left behind a son. Finn never
saw his wife again. But his boy grew tall and strong, a true warrior
of the Fianna and a famed singer of tales. In time, the boy himself
made a lengthy voyage to the other world. He was called Oisin,
a name that meant “fawn.”

JE WaySONG
Se er

20°
curfew and shut his house against the dan- my hound that ranged my land and guard-
gers of the night. From within the shelter- ed my house. No other hound can match
ing walls drifted the sound of singing: The it, and without that beast, all | have is at
company was feasting in the hall. But the risk." And he turned his back on the child.
boy was left out, alone in the fading light. But the boy’s response showed his no-
He saw a movement by the gate. An ble spirit. He told the smith that if there
immense mastiff—a dog bred for its guard- was another whelp of the breed to be had,
ian's role—rose slowly from the ground. Its he would train it. And until the pup was
eyes glittered, the hair stood up on its large enough to serve, Setanta said, he
back, and from deep in its throat, a low himself would guard the land of the smith.
growl began. The animal had been un- "A fair offer,” commented the King.
chained for the night. Setanta stopped at And although — being a royal child —Se-
once, clutching his hurling ball, for he had tanta was not allowed to serve as watch-
no wish to be savaged by a dog. But the dog, he got his name from the offer. The
animal charged him. King's sorcerer and wise man, Cathbad,
It streaked across the grass toward the gave it, to mark the spirit the child had
boy, howling like a hound of hell. He had shown. The name was Cuchulain, or in
a flashing image of bared and gleaming their language “the Hound of Culann."
fangs; he smelled the rank breath, and Se- It was a word of Cathbad's that prompt-
tanta acted. He thrust the hurling ball ed Cuchulain some time later to ask for the
deep into the animal's hot throat. The arms of an adult warrior. Cathbad had a
creature checked and gagged, unable to part in the boys’ training, and one day
bite because of the golden ball, and Se- while he had charge of them, he was asked,
tanta wrenched back his hand. He grasped as was the custom, what the day was good
the mastiff's legs and threw the beast for; that is to say, what it portended.
down. Then he smashed its huge head The sorcerer replied that whoever re-
against a rock, again and again, until the ceived his arms that day would have the
the twitching of the body stopped. greatest name in Ireland, but his life would
be a short one.
Open-hearted, longing for a hero's
asping for breath, Setanta rose to fame, the young Cuchulain seized his
his feet—to face a row of tall men chance; as he himself said, it mattered
who, drawn by the noise, had opened the nothing to him if his life lasted one day
gate of the stockade. Looking down at Se- and one night only, so long as his name
tanta were his uncle Conchobar, pale- lived after him. He demanded his arms
faced with anxiety; Conchobar's warriors, from the King his uncle. Those he received
wiping their mouths, and the smith him- were Conchobar's own spears and sword
self. dark and tight-lipped. and shield, for all the others offered were
“Boy,” said the smith slowly, “there is too flimsy for Cuchulain’s strong hands.
no welcome for you here. You have killed And the King gave the youth his own

21
 chariot and a charioteer named Loeg, who way of heroes. As others before and af-
was to stay with him to the very end of ter him, he ventured to the other world
Cuchulain’s last battle. called Alba (page 35), where from the
His boyhood was over. Cuchulain set woman warrior Scathach he learned the
about the business of proving himself a magical arts that only the greatest knew:
man. Trained as he was in weaponry and It was said that after Alba he could pro-
battle, and schooled by the bravest and duce a thunderclap from his throat, dance
most learned of Conchobar's court, he had on the head of a spear, slice an enemy
still to be blooded. He found his first com- through with the rim of his shield. He
bat in short order, by venturing across the learned the use of the gae bolga — the vicious
Ulster border to challenge three brothers bone spear used only in extremity, whose
who periodically raided the province. He saw-toothed head was shaped to shred an
returned to Emain Macha, still in his battle enemy's flesh as it was withdrawn after a
fury, the dripping heads of his opponents thrust. In Alba, too, he fathered a son,
dangling from the chariot rails and bounc- who was to prove his sorrow. When he
ing against the bars. returned to Ireland again, he won its most
The trophies were the mark of triumph: beautiful maiden, Emer the Fair, for his
Celtic warriors —believing in the soul and wife and became, as has been shown, the
in the power that resides in the head— col- champion of the King.
lected the skulls of the vanquished. Celtic And all of this was still preliminary,
temples and houses had niches that held preparation for the battle that poets would
the grinning bone faces of enemies, whose sing of for a thousand years. It began soon
spirits served as protection for those who after Cuchulain became the King's cham-
prayed or dwelled within. pion, and its circumstances were these:
"They cut off the heads of enemies slain Peace was always uncertain among the
in battle and attach them to the necks of five Irish kingdoms: Ulster in the north,
their horses," wrote the Roman historian Connacht in the west, Leinster in the east,
Diodorus Siculus of the Celtic tribes. and the two Munsters — east and west—at
"They embalm in cedar oil the heads of the the southern tip of the island. Ulster was
most distinguished enemies and preserve the strongest of the five, with Conchobar
them carefully in a chest and display them its King and Cuchulain its champion, but
with pride to strangers." Ulster had enemies everywhere.
Chief among these enemies was Maeve,
the Queen of Connacht, ruling from her
uchulain’s fame mounted with bronze-pillared palace in a fortress on the
the number of his trophies; he hill of Cruachan. Pale-haired Maeve was
was Called the bravest of Ireland's warriors Queen in her own right, for the crown of
and the first in beauty. Yet still his training Connacht passed through the female line;
was not finished. she was a valiant warrior and, some said, a
The thread of his fate spun out in the sorceress. She ruled her husband Ailill

22
Magnificent but malevolent was Maeve of Connacht, a warrior Queen who sent
vast armies to conquer the champions of Ulster and seize the magic bull of Cooley.

23
 with a hand of iron. She kept her lovers had human form, it was said. The white
in the palace itself, and Ailill was never bull had been a servant of the Side—the
heard to complain. fairy princes—of Connacht, the brown
One morning, however, as the couple bull of the Side of Munster. When they
lay late in bed, Ailill crossed his wife. were in that form, a rivalry developed be-
“Good is the wife of a good man," he tween them and in their raging, the two
observed sententiously. began to shift in shape.
“True,” replied Maeve. “And what The pair were seen as ravens, prophesy-
brings that to mind?" ing war, the two were seen later as water
“You are a better woman now than when beasts, devouring each other. At last, in
I married you,” Ailill said. the form of water serpents, they were swal-
There was a short and furious silence. lowed by cows, which subsequently gave
“I was good before | ever had to do with birth to the two finest bulls in Ireland—
you,” snapped Maeve. Finnbennach and the Donn of Cooley.
When those enchanted animals were safe
apart in separate provinces, the country
nd so began the famous pillow flourished. What Maeve was planning,
talk that led to the death of thou- however, would wreak havoc: When the
sands of Ireland's greatest warriors. Maeve bull lords fought, death stalked the land.
and Ailill, comparing their virtues, soon But in her pride and greed, Maeve cared
came to quarrel over whose possessions nothing for the danger. She decided to
were richer. They totted up their separate steal the Donn of Cooley.
properties— their jewels and silks, their She summoned a host of warriors and
flocks and herds, even their pots, tubs, found eager allies. The plain surrounding
buckets and jugs, and the score was even. Cruachan soon flickered with a thousand
But Ailill had something that Maeve campfires. Maeve's seven sons came with
lacked—a mighty white bull called Finn- their troops, the King of Leinster with his
bennach. The bull's power and ferocity and the Munster Kings with theirs. And
were unmatched in Ireland, with only one among that host was Fergus, foster father
exception. At Cooley in Ulster dwelled of Cuchulain, and Cormac, Conchobar's
the Donn, a great brown bull said to be son: These two had years before left Ulster
able to sire fifty calves in a day. Maeve to serve Maeve because Conchobar had
determined to have the Donn of Cooley done a dishonorable thing (page 56); they
for her own and so best her husband. loved their own land still but they fought
The tale began thus trivially, but the against it. And also there was Ferdiad, a
two bulls were no mere herd animals. brilliant warrior of Connacht who had
Maeve was tampering with things she trained with Cuchulain in Alba. Although
should have left alone. The animals were the two were from different provinces,
bull lords, protectors of the people and of they were foster brothers because of what
the fertility of the herds. They once had they had shared in the other world.

24
 Maeve consulted a woman of the Side Lugh the sun god, and the fairy woman's
about the fate of her troops, and the wom- curse therefore passed Cuchulain by. He
an said she saw the men covered with crim- was alone save for his charioteer, Loeg,
son blood. Maeve paid little heed to this. who had been born in another kingdom,
She knew that the men of Ulster lay under but he was also in the flower of his
acurse: Generations before, a fairy woman youth and vigor.
of Ulster, then in her last month of preg- So Maeve's armies drove north and east
nancy, had been forced by drunken mortal until they came to the place called Ardcul-
warriors to race on foot against a team of lin, at the very border of Ulster. They
horses. The race had ended at the hill found a pillar stone there, marking the
where Conchobar's fortress later stood. boundary. Around it was twisted an oak
The woman had won it, and there on the sapling, and on the sapling was cut Cu-
hill, before the eyes of the jeering warriors, chulain's name and a message to Fergus
she had given birth to twins. The woman's and the other Ulstermen with Maeve: If
name was Macha and the birth gave the hill they crossed the border that night, it said,
its name: Emain Macha in Gaelic meant then they would die at sunrise.
“Macha’'s Twins.” In her final shame and They saw no other sign of Cuchulain,
agony the fairy had laid a fate on the men but they camped at the border that night.
of Ulster. For nine generations, at certain Snow fell with the darkness, but the next
times of great danger, the men should be day dawned bright and cold, the sun
prostrated with the weakness of child- shone on the snow, and heartened, the ar-
birth, so that they could not defend them- mies of Maeve pushed on into Ulster,
selves, until the weakness passed, Ulster sending two young warriors with their
was vulnerable to invasion. charioteers ahead as scouts.
And even now, in the fortress of Emain Not many hours passed before they saw
Macha, Conchobar and his warriors lay an oak tree standing black in the snow
unable to fight or even to walk. Maeve had ahead. It had been stripped of all its
spies who told her this; she therefore branches but four, and each of these
marched her armies northeast from Con- branches pierced the shredded neck of a
nacht toward the Ulster border. blood-clotted head. The heads belonged
to Maeve's two scouts and their chariot
drivers. The killer was nowhere to be seen,
ut some factors Maeve had not but it was clear that Ulster’s defense had
reckoned on. One was the Ulster- begun. Fergus warned Maeve of what was
man Fergus’ love of his homeland. He coming. She pressed on: The troops were
led the armies of Maeve, it is true; it anxious, and she knew that Conchobar
was said that he was her lover. But he and his warriors lay prostrate at Emain Ma-
also sent warning ahead to his foster son cha. She ignored the deadly presence of
Cuchulain. And there was Cuchulain him- Cuchulain, the Hound of Ulster.
self. His father was no Ulsterman but The harrying began. An army on the

25
move-—with its chariots, horses, supply reins, eyes narrowed in perfect concentra-
wagons and cattle — was a cumbersome and tion, Loeg guided the horses in unerring
unwieldy thing. This was true especial- circles that cut victims from the crowd
ly when that army marched on unfamil- to face Cuchulain.
iar, forest-crowded, river-laced ground,
hampered by the snows and winds and
fogs of winter. The days were exhausting he champion's battle fury was upon
in this strange and hostile land. And the him; a golden glow, the hero light,
nights were filled with terror for Maeve's could be seen playing about his head. Cu-
men. In the darkness, the invaders heard chulain was one against many, but the war
the thundering of horses’ hoofs, the creak goddess was in him then and Maeve's.in-
of chariot wheels, the slapping of harness- vaders died in their hundreds. It was said
es. Before they could group and turn for that some perished of fright because in his
the battle, Cuchulain was upon them raging, a terrible transformation came
Scouts and outriders died; outlying de- upon Cuchulain. His hair, the soldiers
tachments were slaughtered to a man. At whispered, stood on end, and from his
daybreak all along the track ahead, scalp rose a fountain of black blood. It was
Maeve's warriors would find the dripping said that one of his eyes closed and with-
heads of their comrades, spiked to the drew until it was almost invisible, while
branches of the trees. the other opened until he was one-eyed,
Nights came when Cuchulain rode like the Norse war god, Odin. His mouth
screaming into the full light of the camp- gaped wide to reveal ferocious teeth. His
fires, his legs braced in the chariot behind body shook like a tree in the flood.
his tall shield, his spears bristling in his Hundreds upon hundreds of Maeve's
hand. Beside him, hands like iron on the army died. And death came close to Maeve
herself, where she stood in her own chari- an age when every life was needed. Or, as
ot, flanked by her generals. With derisive Maeve remarked when she agreed to the
accuracy, during one attack, an iron ball terms, “It is better to lose one man every
from Cuchulain’s sling killed the golden day than a hundred every night."
bird that sat upon the Queen's shoulder. So day after day Maeve sent her cham-
She halted the snail-like advance of her pions against Cuchulain. And day after
troops after four nights of slaughter and day they died. While they fought, Maeve
sent heralds to treat with Cuchulain. The sent a detachment racing north to Cooley
heralds would be safe: Cuchulain did not and took the Donn; the bull was brought
slaughter messengers or any other un- into her own camp. But not one man could
armed men. They found him encamped get past Cuchulain at the ford.
with Loeg at a ford that crossed the Dee It was whispered that his strength was
River where it neared the sea on Ulster’s such that the Morrigu—the death-lustful
east coast. Cuchulain laughed at Maeve's war goddess—came to him in the night,
message: She offered him great rewards to scarlet-haired and robed in scarlet. She of-
desert his own people and join her ranks. fered herself to him, but Cuchulain re-
He did say, however, that he would bar- fused her, having other things to do. Rag-
gain personally with her or with Fergus. So ing, she tried to hamper him in battle. She
at last, with his foster father Fergus, Cu- took the form of an eel in the ford and
chulain struck an agreement: Each day the twisted around his legs as he fought; he
Ulster hero would take his stand at the slashed at the creature and blinded it.
ford. Each day Maeve would send one of zz?
her own champions to challenge him in
single combat. While the fight went on, t was said that, desperate at last, Maeve
Maeve's army could march into Ulster, as sent six warriors, all of them en-
soon as Cuchulain defeated the champi- chanters, instead of one, and that Cuchu-
on, however, the army had to halt and lain killed them all. Then, in-his rage at her
camp for that day. betrayal, he came in the night and savaged
It was not an unusual arrangement. Maeve's army, as he had done before. It
Celtic armies habitually met in all their was said that then, when Cuchulain began
strength and masses, shaking their weap- to falter from the weeks of fighting and his
ons, screaming taunts and boasts and wounds, the sun god, Lugh, appeared be-
blowing in harsh and deafening chorus the side him and sent him to sleep for three
dragon-headed trumpets known as car- days, that he might rest and heal, while
ynxes. At a signal the clamor ceased and Lugh himself took Cuchulain's shape and
the battle was joined by the opposing ar- fought in his place.
mies’ champions, who decided the issue And there were Fergus, Cuchulain's fos-
by single combat. That was the way in the ter father, and Ferdiad, his brother-in-
age of heroes. Single combat gave glory arms, both fighting for Maeve when it
where glory was due, and it spared lives in was Cuchulain they loved in their hearts.

To stop Cuchulain's barrying of ber armies, Maeve and her general, Fergus,
made this bargain: If Cuchulain would fight her champions one by
one, ber armies would not move as long as he remained the victor.
His charioteer at the reins and his sword at the ready, Fergus Mac Roy went to meet
his kinsman Cuchulain, while the ravens of the battle goddess soared above his bead.

Maeve sent Fergus first. Fergus went to hood, his eyes were shadowed with his
the ford in the morning and halted his tiredness, but he smiled upon his old
chariot on the south side. While his horses companion Ferdiad.
stamped and whinnied, Fergus called out "In our youth,” said Cuchulain, “we
to his foster son. fought together because we were matched
For the sake of all | did for you in in skill and in valor. You were my people
your youth, give way before me on this then, you were my family. No one is
day," cried Fergus. dearer. Do not fight me now." He told Fer-
Cuchulain refused. diad of Maeve's trickeries. He said that
heart's companions should not fight.
But Ferdiad said merely, “Why delay?
hen Fergus said, “But here is my What arms shall we use, then?” Ferdiad’s
word. If you give way today, | will driver turned his head away.
give way when you need me most. In the After a moment, Cuchulain smiled
last battle, | will turn and run before you, again. He replied, “Yours is the choice of
and the armies of Maeve will run with me." arms, for you were first at the ford.”
And though he was loath to do it, Cuchu- Ferdiad chose casting spears, light
lain fell back before his foster father. That weapons with which they had practiced
day Maeve’'s armies tore deep into Ulster, long hours when they were boys. So each
looting and burning as they went. took his shield and the ivory-hafted short
Ferdiad was a different matter. That spears, eight for each. From the dancing
young man — the brightest of Maeve's war- chariots they fought, casting the spears
riors, trained with Cuchulain in the mists over the waters quickly, and as quickly
of Alba—refused steadfastly to fight the they feinted and dodged while the chariot
companion of his boyhood. He refused drivers sweated at the reins. All the morn-
when Maeve offered honors and plunder. ing they rallied, and so evenly were they
He refused when she offered her daughter matched that neither was wounded.
for his wife. But Maeve was cunning. She When the sun rose high, Ferdiad said,
swore that she would make the bards of “Light spears are not the weapons that will
every lrish province sing of Ferdiad's cow- settle this." Cuchulain agreed, and they
ardice against Cuchulain. After that, Fer- changed to heavier straight spears, those
diad did not refuse: He could not bear the that were retrieved after the cast with flax-
thought of such a stain on his honor. en lines. They fought through the after-
At dawn of the day, therefore, Ferdiad noon, and both were wounded.
armed himself and drove to the ford and Yet when the shadows lengthened, Fer-
waited on the south bank. The light had diad and Cuchulain at once threw the
not struck the water before he saw Cuchu- spears to their drivers and held out their
lain coming through the trees, with Loeg, hands. That night they stabled the horses
the charioteer, beside him. Cuchulain’s together in one enclosure made of
golden hair shone as it had in his child- branches, the drivers shared one fire; and

28
 ep
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SN b
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A Gok A
LET IN
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ZZ SSS

the two young warriors shared their food he gazed across the water at his friend and
and talked in the way that old friends talk. enemy Cuchulain.
The next day it was the same and the The Ulster champion gazed back. Then
day after that; they fought steadily with he turned and said to Loeg the driver, “We
the broad spear and then with the sword. fight on foot today. If | should falter, jeer
They wounded each other and the blood at me to give me the strength of anger."
trickled into their eyes. They lurched with Loeg nodded and stepped back.
exhaustion and still they fought on. Then the warriors swung their shields
At the end of the third day, however, across their bodies and stepped into the
the two drew apart to their separate banks shallow waters of the ford. All morning
of the ford. They bade each other farewell long they cast until at length they fought
then, and each on his bed of rushes stared shield to shield, struggling together on
alone at the silent stars. the slippery rocks.
Cuchulain broke the deadlock; he
leaped at Ferdiad, who threw him down
orning came clear and bright once, and then again.
and full of singing birds. Fer- “Coward Cuchulain," hissed faithful
diad armed himself in his breastplate of Loeg from the riverbank. “Little weakling,
iron. His helmet was studded with carbun- what claim to honor have you?"
cle and crystal. His curved sword at his Cuchulain listened to the ugly words
side and his shield slung across his back, fora moment. He rose to his knees in the

29
30
 An evil ruse
that cate to naught
Day after day during the battle for
the Donn of Cooley, Cuchulain, the
champion of Ulster, slaughtered
Connacht'’s champions in single com-
bat at the ford on the River Dee. But
at last the Connacht Queen played
a dastardly trick: She sent the war-
rior Calatin to fight the Ulster-
man, but Calatin was not alone. His
twenty-eight sons came with him
Some say that all twenty-nine men
were one — a horribly joined monster
warrior with twenty-nine heads — but
this merely meant that they were of
one blood and so marvelously skilled
that they fought as one.
From dawn to dusk Cuchulain
fought that vicious tribe with spear
and sword and battle-ax. He might
easily have fallen, for the odds against
him were great. But when the press was
at its worst, a traitor gave him aid
An Ulsterman fighting for Connacht —
yet still tied by old loyalties — leaped
into the fray. Thus heartened, Cuchu-
lain killed; he took the heads of Cala-
tin and of all Calatin's sons
The battle was won for that day
But Calatin had a wife who was with
child, and the creatures that she bore
were brought up to be instruments of
vengeance against the man who had
slain their father.

31
 water and then swayed to his feet. Light been a mountain, he sang, and now he was
began to play around his head. In the dis- less than a shadow. All fury spent, Cuchu-
tance both men heard a wild chorus, as if lain rested on the bank beside the body.
in sympathy the ravens of Ulster were call- Loeg anxiously summoned him away, but
ing for the kill. Cuchulain did not hear
The warriors’ swords were in their A curious thing happened then. Creep-
hands: Ferdiad struck around Cuchulain’s ing from the trees and underbrush came
shield so that the blade opened the cham- men of Ulster to bear the champion Cu-
pion’s side and the water played red chulain away. The curse was passing from
around his feet. A mad light gleamed them. It always did, in time. They had
in Cuchulain's eyes then. He thrust his now to rally, for with Cuchulain down,
hand out and shouted hoarsely, and Loeg, Maeve's armies began a long sweep into
waiting on the riverbank, sent flying the Ulster, burning the villages and firing the
gae bolga, the vicious barbed spear that fields. They killed as they went.
could gut a man. It was said that in the weeks that fol-
Ferdiad, hearing the shout, turned at lowed, Cuchulain was hidden in the care
once to the side and swung his shield up to of the Side. They knew the ways of leaves
guard his belly. He moved too late. The and herbs and how to ease the spirit. In
gae bolga leaped from Cuchulain’s hand those weeks, Conchobar the King rallied
past the rim of the shield into Ferdiad's his men to him. To Emain Macha they
breastplate, and tore through his body. came, and when they had massed they set
The barbed point appeared behind his out after Maeve.
back, piercing the air where he stood. The battle raged across the country-
"| die by that,” cried Ferdiad. “I die by side for days, until the trees were bare
that, and it is on your head, Cuchulain." and blackened and the fresh fields no
Bright blood bubbled from his mouth. His more than charred stubble. But Maeve's
shield dropped, and he lurched forward. armies, having taken their plunder—and
won the Donn of Cooley —at last prepared
to withdraw. Conchobar followed, har-
uchulain’s arms were there to rying and killing until Fergus brought
catch him, it was Cuchulain who his armies around again, to drive back
lifted Ferdiad and carried him to the the Ulster King.
north bank of the ford, so that Ferdiad And this was the last battle where Cu-
might die in Ulster and not among the chulain appeared on the field. Above the
armies of Maeve. din, Fergus heard Cuchulain’s voice.
He sang the lament for Ferdiad to give "Go back now, Fergus," he shouted.
his friend honor equal to his own. All Fergus refused.
fights, Cuchulain sang, were games and "You are bound by your oath, Fer-
jests save for those he had fought with Fer- gus," Cuchulain cried. “The oath you gave
diad, the friend of his youth. Ferdiad had at the ford, when I fell back for you.”

Of all Cuchulain’s duels the cruelest

forhim was the one he was forced
to fight with Ferdiad, the companion of his boyhood. Ferdiad fell.
He died in his friend's arms, and Cuchulain sang the lament
for bim.
 That was true. Fergus stepped back. He and broke loose from their chains and
turned his chariot and gave way for Cu- charged. All who were near enough to see
chulain. His men turned with him, and the battle died, for the bulls trampled
Maeve's army, seeing this, broke ranks and them to red pulp upon the ground
fled. The men of Ulster followed after, The last that was seen of the Brown Bull
killing, until little was left of the Connacht in Maeve's country was his great horns
invaders but the dead and the dying flecked with the flesh of the White Bull of
wz? Connacht. The bull lord headed northeast
to Ulster. And when the bull arrived in
n the field then, Cuchulain came upon Cooley a madness came upon it, it killed
Maeve. She was almost alone. Her the people it could find and trampled the
proud chariot was shattered; her golden fields. Then it sank to the ground and
hair was crusted with blood and her face died. In its rage, its heart had burst
blackened with dirt. On her knees, she Thus ended the war for the Great Brown
begged the champion for safe conduct. He 3ull of Cooley, with death and destruc-
gave it, and that was a mistake. Maeve and tion, starvation and pain Maeve had
Ailill and the remnants of the great army slunk back to Connacht, defeated—in the
made the long march to Cruachan, their main—by one man’s arms. Beaten and
hearts filled with rage at the shame Cuchu- shamed, she stayed there
lain had brought upon them. But Maeve and those with her had
As for the cause of the war, Maeve took vengeance in their hearts. And the
it with her on the retreat, but she had no man they would seek was the author
pleasure from it. She had eight messengers of defeat— Cuchulain, the cham-
lead the Donn of Cooley to Connacht pion of Ulster. GS
This they managed to do. When they
brought the bull to Cruachan, however, it
got scent of the White Bull of Connacht
and there was no holding it. The
great animals pawed the earth
and shook the ground
 asi:
1 Te
“Fluther «&
Uorl
pee ventured wee the mass ofhu-
mankind dared not tread—into the shift-
ing shadow worlds that once lay hidden
~ within the solid landscapes of everyday.
The voyages were perilous, but the re-
wards were great. On one such journey,
the Irish warrior Cuchulain passed from
youth to manhood.
His adventure began as a test: Cu-
chulain desired a woman called Emer the
Fair, whose father demanded that he
prove himself at the school of the leg-
endary woman warrior Scathach. She
ruled Alba, a land far beyond the mist
and spindriit of the restless Irish Sea.
— With three companions, Cuchulain
sailed to Alba's rocky shore. In days, the
companions vanished, seduced away, it
was said, by magic. The young Ulster
warrior traveled on alone, heading north
until he came to a plain that stretched to
the rim of the sky, where bony mountain
ranges loomed. Steaming and shivering,
the plain was bad land, it seethed with
spells. Cuchulain hesitated, and when
he did, a child appeared to him, offering
talismans. If he wished to find Scathach,
said the strange child gravely, he must
follow the talismans.
_ Cuchulain took them. The first was a
wheel, which he cast on the plain. At
once the wheel glowed gold and of its
own rolled offAs the ne nad advised,
- Cuchulain followed, although on either
side pitch welled up, black, boiling and
deep enough to trap a man forever.
In the wheel's track he was safe.
When the golden disk vanished, Cuchu-
lain threw the second talisman—a golden
apple—and followed as it rolled ahead.
On either side, swaying like grain in the
wind, grew glittering knives, sharp
enough to sever a man’s legs. In the ap-
ple's track, however, Cuchulain was un-
touched and thus passed in safety the
outer barriers to Scathach’s world.
e left the plain at last and trudged
on, ascending steadily into dark-
ening mountains, until at dusk he
saw the fortress of the woman war-
_rior. Perched on a cold promontory, the
stronghold was embraced by a windy
chasm. The pit was arched by a narrow
bridge. Encamped on the ledge in front
of the bridge were the youths who would
become the Ulsterman’s companions in
training, the warrior band of Scathach.
They were a fine crew, bright-haired and
strong-limbed. They jeered at him, an
unproven stranger. One shouted to Cu-
chulain that he should try the bridge,
and that was a trick, for the bridge of its
own power could cast the foolhardy into
the chasm below.
Cuchulain leaped onto the span.
Like a wave beneath him, the bridge
swayed and buckled; he felt it snap up-
ward and landed, gasping, back on the
ledge. The youths jeered the louder. He
| tried again and once again, and each
time, the bridge tossed him to the ledge
amid a chorus of derision.
' Cuchulain brightened with rage
then, and the hero light blazed around
his head, so that his tormentors fell si-
lent. They saw him leap once more into
the air, touch the bridge and spring
across the span as a salmon leaps up-
stream. With a spear, he struck the for-

Re TN
a aHSi SE
eR Botte
Tae cinapactanliata i ea
37,
 ong”‘months in. Al a, oe battle
skills charged with magic, skills s
strange that while their names were long q
emembered, later generations, having §
ost the arts, could not tell exactly what ©
the skills might be. Some of their names —
_ were: the blade feat, the spear feat, the —
rope feat, the salmon feat and the whirl -
of the brave chariot chief. :
- Cuchulain learned well, so well that
no one lacking other-world training—
and few in Alba itself would be a match
for him. He led Scathach’s band. He
fought for her in her own battles and
thereby got his only son: 3
As Cuchulain’s trai ng neared its
end, a rival of aoeach’s thundered -
through the mountain passes at the head
of an invading army. The challenger was
called Aifa, and she was a warrior queen
afgreat prowess. Scathach’s cadre of he- —
oes met the invaders, but it was Cuchu-
lain alone who slew Aifa's champions.
Yhen, as was the custom, Aifa chal-
lenged Scathach to single combat.
ut Cuchulain demanded to stand
for his mentor, Although he was
fe warned of Aifa's ferocity, all he
FAD asked was to know what she cher-
ished. Scathach told him. Aifa loved her
horses, chariot and charioteer. Then
Cuchulain went forth to battle.
They fought with spears, but the
spears shattered harmlessly. The two
» were closely matched in spear play.
| When they turned to swords, however, —
 Bats or ireyaar
sect: cries
atte winnie EN Ul Wg A,
Fat

the woman swiftly disarmed the man,

her blade flashing up in the dusty air and
_ breaking Cuchulain’s from its hilt.
But the Ulsterman was crafty. He
' shouted that Aifas chariot and horses
had stumbled at the cliff edge and were
re
FR
a
STE
A
OP

in danger of sliding over. Caught by the

trick, Aifa turned her gaze for one in-
‘stant, and in that instant, Cuchulain 4
seized her in his arms.
His grip was like iron, he threw Aifa
to the ground and pressed his dagger to
her throat, demanding surrender. And
she yielded to him. She promised that
she would fight Scathach no more. She
said that she would give herself to Cu-
chulain, who had conquered her. Thus
Cuchulain took Aifa to her camp and
kept her by him for some weeks. He got
her with child in that time and told her ~
what he knew in his heart. The child,
Cuchulain said, would be a son.
"Send the boy to me in Ulster when
he is seven,’ said Cuchulain. Without
another word, he left Aifa, never seeing
the light of vengeance that gleamed
behind her eyes.
wuchulains appointed year in
Alba had drawn to its close, and
, so he returned to Seathachs for-
wW tress to make his farewell. The
Aye ines then gave him who was the
pride of her pupils the greatest of spears,
the gae bolga. She blessed his valor. And
she made this prophecy: that Cuchulain
would triumph, one man over multi-
tudes, that his greatness would live for-
ever in the poets songs, that his life
would pass as quickly as the dew.
Cuchulain cared everything for the
fame and nothing for the brevity of the
warriors life. He returned to Ulster, to
the bride he had won and the glory that
was to come. But he never spared a
thought for his child, left behind in the
shadow world of Alba.

41
 Chapter Cwo

The Cruel
Demands
of Honor
t Samain. the He died in his prime, in the manner of
Celtic feast day between summer and win- heroes, and as it was for all of them, it was
ter when the wind blew from the north and for him. They were men, it is true, but
the sun's path sank low in the sky, the hero greaterthanmen. [hey went to their inevi-
Cuchulain died at the hands of his en- table ends not meekly but in glory, will-
emies. [he great Hound of Ulster died on ingly embracing the common fate and
his feet, having lashed himself to a making of that fate a triumph. Fora hero,
pillar stone when he knew he had the pathway to death was strewn with por-
|
received the death blow. And tents. [he moment he embarked upon this
mortally wounded though he course, Cuchulain knew that each step
was, none of his adversaries would lead inexorably to the end. He ac-
dared approach until the. cepted it and journeyed bravely. _ |
glowing radiance, called the The first portent was a young boy on
hero light, faded from the air a beach. This beach, a shingle vashed
around him and a raven set- by the gray-green waves
tled heavily on his shoul- of the Irish Sea on Ul-
_ der. Then the enemies cut ster's east Coast, was
| off Cuchulain’s head and called Baile’s Strand.
his right hand, and carried Not far away stood
~ the trophies from Ulster, Cuchulain’s own for- _
tress, Dundealgan,
where it happened
once that Con-
chobar, King of
 Ulster, was holding court with Cuchulain one, it seemed, had the advantage, and
and others of the Red Branch knights, the that was strange indeed, because it was
company of heroes who served the King. said that no man alive was a match for Cu-
On this day, word came to the fortress chulain in his prime.
that a ship bearing armed warriors led by a Buta stranger thing followed. While the
bright-faced youth had beached at Baile’s Red Branch knights watched, the youth
Strand, and Conchobar sent a messenger began to press the older man, backing him
to learn the stranger's business. The mes- steadily toward the water. Step by step,
senger returned without an answer: The thrust by thrust, the boy advanced and the
youth, he said, had refused to give his man retreated, not fighting easily now,
name or an account of himself. He had but fighting for his life.
only laughed when the messenger warned Cuchulain grew angry then. His lips
him that if he did not tell it willingly, the tightened and his eyes narrowed; he called
information would be dragged from him. for the gae bolga, the cruelly barbed spear
When he heard that, Cuchulain called used only in extremity. It was thrown to
for his spears and sword and set off for him, and as he grasped it, his battle fury
Baile’s Strand with the King and a com- came full upon him. All around his head,
pany of Red Branch knights. There they the radiant hero light began to shine.
found the boy leaning idly on his spear. When he saw this, the boy checked,
Cuchulain paused to observe the stranger; frozen in the act of casting his own spear.
he was a slender youth, but as finely mus- Then he cast, but all those watching could
cled as a hunting hound, and he bore a see that he threw to miss. The weapon
champion’s heavy spears and broadsword. sailed harmlessly past Cuchulain and in
Cuchulain smiled and saluted the that instant, the older warrior cast the gae
stranger courteously enough. “Now then, bolga —but not to miss. It flew with deadly
boy," he said easily. “Give over this folly ease past the rim of the youth's shield and
and tell us your name." slid swift and deep into his belly. The bat-
But the boy shook his head. “I tell no tle was done; the spear's wound was always
man my name. | never refuse a battle, even mortal. The shield fell from the boy's
though it mean my death," said he. Then shoulder and he sank to the ground. Cu-
he straightened and stepped back and chulain strode forward to finish the kill.
brought up his shield to defend his side. But the boy raised his hand so that Cu-
chulain saw the golden ring he wore. “I am
my mother's instrument,” he said. But Cu-
o battle was joined. Light-footed as chulain, kneeling over him, already knew
great cats, the youth and the man the truth of the matter—the ring and the
thrust and feinted and dodged. Their valor of the boy had told him.
spears glittered in the air only to rattle The youth was his son. Long years be-
harmlessly against their shields and clatter fore, when Cuchulain received his cham-
onto the pebbles of the beach. Neither pion’s training in the other world of Alba,

44
 east across the sea, he had conquered a and gave a great howl of grief, as if his
woman warrior and gotten her with child heart and not Conla’s had been pierced by
(page 41). He had left the woman to take his the sword. He sang and the song was car-
rightful place in Ulster, but he had given ried out over the waves:
her a golden ring for the child that was to "I am the father that killed his son, the
come, telling her that it would be a boy fine green branch, there is no hand or shel-
and that when the boy was of the age to ter to help me. | am a raven that has no
bear arms she should send him to Ulster. home; I am a boat going from wave to
And she had done so. But his dying son wave; | ama ship that has lost its rudder, |
told Cuchulain all that she had done. En- am the apple left on the tree; it is little |
raged by Cuchulain's conquest and deser- thought of falling from it. Grief and sor-
tion, she had had the child trained in bat- row will be on me from this time."
tle skills until there was nothing more to Madness came upon Cuchulain then
teach him, there was no youth in Alba as and the Red Branch knights bore him to his
valiant as he. And then she made him into fortress that he might rest and heal. But
a weapon of revenge. She gave him the Cuchulain had not long to live, for his
arms of a champion and sent him to Ulster final battle was nearing. Many said his dy-
to find his father. And she laid three magi- ing began that day on Baile's Strand, when
cal bonds upon him, promises that upon all unknowing, he killed his only son.
his life and honor he could never break.
The first was never to be turned aside by
any living person, the second not to refuse he events that led to Cuchulain’s
a challenge from the greatest man alive; last battle on the Plain of Muir-
and the third, never to tell his name. themne were already set in motion. In
Thus the woman warrior ensured that those days, honor required that what one
the son would kill the father or the fa- suffered be repaid in kind. As it was for the
ther the son. The boy lay now on the shin- woman Cuchulain conquered, so it was for
gle, blood bubbling at his lips, and gasped the warriors of Ireland: Vengeance was all.
out how he had turned his spear aside And Cuchulain—the slaughterer of the
when he saw the hero light and recognized Irish at the battle of Cooley —had enemies
his father, he told of the bonds that had in plenty, waiting for revenge.
made it impossible for him to speak and at Chief among them was Maeve, the war-
last he told his name: “] am Conla, son of rior Queen of Connacht, whose armies
the Hound of Ulster,” he said, and the had been destroyed at the battle of Coo-
light began to fade from his eyes. ley. Maeve brooded and waited, and her
Then Cuchulain, kneeling beside him, time came at last, when those she had cho-
wept. With his own sword, he struck the sen as weapons had grown into their
~ youth through the heart to spare him the strength. The first she called were honed
agony of long dying. So Cuchulain killed to sharpness by the warrior Queen herself.
his only son. He threw back his head then It had happened that during the battle,

45
 Cuchulain had slain one of Maeve's cham- bar knew, too, that although Cuchulain
pions, a warrior called Calatin, and his was not affected by the curse, he was weak-
sons with him (page 31); shortly thereafter, ened by his grief. He could not stave off
Calatin's widow had given birth to triplets, the enemies alone, as he had before. Con-
twisted, one-eyed female creatures. Maeve chobar had no doubt about Maeve's plan:
recognized the trio for the demons they She meant to separate the hero from the
were and sent them to the dark corners of rest and cut him down —and if she succeed-
the world to learn the magic arts. ed, Ulster would be defenseless.
When they returned, skilled in the mak- Conchobar therefore ordered Cuchu-
ing of illusion, in the shifting of shape and lain secluded, first within the fortress at
in prophecy, Maeve summoned a council. Emain Macha and then in a remote royal
Especially, she called Erc, son of the King hall. He surrounded the warrior with wom-
of Leinster, whose bloodied head Cuchu- en and bards, whose songs and spells he
lain had brandished before the Leinster hoped would calm Cuchulain’s battle
troops. And she called Lugaid, son of a fury. At Conchobar's urging, Cuchulain’s
Munster King whom Cuchulain had also mistress, Niamh, made Cuchulain promise
slain. To these and to Calatin’s daughters, that he would not fight unless she gave
Maeve put the same question: him leave. Even with a pledge of honor
"Who slew your father?" and Conchobar's protection, Cuchulain
Each by each, they answered with was an easy mark for Maeve—and Maeve
Cuchulain's name. Then the battle for Cu- had the services of Calatin's daughters.
chulain’s life began. Each time Conchobar hid the hero,
those sorceress-hags followed with the
lightness of the wind. They sat on the sun-
aeve moved her forces — her ar- ny lawns of Emain Macha and of the royal
mies of Connacht, Lugaid hall—three twisted shadows crawling on
with his Munster detachments and Erc the green. From stalks of grass and oak
with the men of Leinster—north to the bor- leaves and mushrooms, they fashioned
ders of Ulster. With her went Calatin’s phantom armies, which clashed in battle
daughters, those frightful hags, now before Cuchulain’s eyes and seemed to
squalling among the baggage vans, now rend the very fabric of the land. Although
Thexorable workings cackling in tree branches, now crowding he knew it was illusion, Cuchulain trem-
Maeve's chariot and whispering spells. bled with rage and eagerness to fight.
of man's fate
The armies harried the borders for days. Only his pledge to Niamh held him back.
All heroes were netted in the web of
fate: No power, said the poets, could
At King Conchobar's stronghold of Em- And that not long. Because one of the
prevail against untiring destiny. Thus ain Macha, the old illness —sufferings hags took the fair shape of Niamh, and in
every step taken to avert the fate of the
Greek hero Oedipus only wrapped
caused by a curse (page 25) - came upon the Niamh’'s voice, she called to Cuchulain
him closer in its strands Red Branch knights. Conchobar knew that Ulster was burning and the land laid
It was prophesied by oracles be-
fore his birth that Oedipus would
what this meant; his warriors could not waste without a defender.
murder his father and wed his own fight until their weakness passed. Concho- Queen Maeve and her sorceries took
mother. When he was born, therefore,
his father, Laius, King of Thebes, had
the infant's feet pierced and ordered
him left in the wilderness to die
But the child did not die: A shep-
herd took him south to Corinth,
where the King and Queen of that
land reared him as their own, so that
he loved them as his parents
46
 Fate was quiet while Oedipus
grew. When he became a young war-
rior, however, heheardthe prophecy
that he would murder his father and
marty his mother. Horrified — for Oe-
dipus had a loving nature — he fled
Corinth, seeking to avert such evil
He went north to Thebes, and the web
of destiny began to form
the trick. Cuchulain girded for battle hands shone with grease in the firelight; At a place on his journey where
three roads met, an old man insulted
Then, thick as the rains of autumn and they had spitted a dog and this they were the youth, in arrogant rage Oedipus
the winter snows, the omens of his own roasting. They hailed Cuchulain by name slew the man. That was Laius, King of
Thebes. All unknowing, Oedipus had
death clouded Cuchulain's path. When and invited him to join the feast fulfilled the first part of the prophecy
he armed himself, the golden brooch Now, this was a hard thing, for Cuchu- Thebes was besieged: Its King was
dead; its countryside ravaged by the
that pinned his war cloak fell from his lain, like most Irish kings and heroes, lay Sphinx, a creature with a lion's body,
hands and pierced his foot. In the fields under several geasa, or prohibitions or a woman’s head and a riddle. To an-
swer her riddle was to save the people
where they grazed, his horses were skit- bonds, just as Cuchulain's son had been Oedipus challenged the Sphinx
tish; they would not come for harnessing placed under bonds by his mother. A geis She asked: “What walks on four legs in
the moming, on two at midday and on
when the charioteer Loeg shook their bri- was a serious matter, concerning other- three in the evening?”
dles at them. They came only at Cuchu- world powers, and the breaking of the “Man, " replied Oedipus, the fated
one nearing his fate. The Sphinx died
lain's call and from the dark eyes of the bond led to the death of the person who then, and the country was rescued
lead stallion—called the Gray of Macha— broke it. One of Cuchulain’s geasa was Oedipus was made King of Thebes for
his deed and given the old King's wid-
streamed bloody tears. that he would never eat the flesh of a dog ow fora wife. And so in ignorance, he
Still the horses were harnessed and Another was that he would never refuse embraced the prophecy
The truth was revealed to him
hitched to the chariot, and Loeg and Cu- an offered feast. years later, when plague struck his
chulain set off moving swiftly under a Caught between the conflicting de- kingdom as punishment for his crime
Oedipus learned who he was then
lowering sky. They raced through the mands, Cuchulain hesitated. The old Only the King could make the atone-
forests of Ulster toward the Plain of Muir- women jeered. At that he dismounted and ment that saved the country, and Oe-
dipus made it. He put out his own
themne, where Maeve's armies were gath- joined their feast. He ate hound's flesh, eyes, and guided by two women who
ered. Behind them they heard a high wail- holding a leg bone in his left hand, and were his daughters and sisters both,
he wandered through Greece, no long-
ing—the keening of the women of Ulster. the strength went out of the hand. He er the King, but only aman. When he
wiped the hand on his left thigh, and the knew it at last, he found the peace of
His mother's house lay on the way, and
death. And he achieved a hero's fame
while Loeg held the nervous horses, Cu- strength went out of the thigh. Then, for facing what he could not change
chulain stopped for her blessing. She of- limping slightly, he climbed into the
fered him wine, but the chalice brimmed chariot beside his grim-faced driver and
with blood instead. Seeing it, his mother headed for the battle, while the cackling of
begged him not to go on, but Cuchulain the hags rose into the air and twisted
only smiled and left her. in the tree branches.
The light faded and the pair galloped
on. They passed a stream where a pale
young woman washed bloody clothing
and wept. A voice called out that she wept
for Cuchulain. He answered only that be-
fore he died, other clothes than his would
be bloodied, and he drove on.
The last and bitterest omen was this. A
small fire appeared on the side of the path. Mk
Around it hovered three old crones, their
faces hidden within black hoods. Their
 A choice of death
before dishonor
The valiant died but did not surren-
der, they faced the end but did not cry
for help. So the poets said in France
when they sang of Roland, the Emper-
or Charlemagne's champion and ham-
mer against the Saracens
Roland was revered but he had an
enemy in France — his own stepfather,
Ganelon. On Roland's suggestion —
innocently made — Ganelon was sent
to demand surrender of the Saracens
Ganelon did not see the embassy as an
honor, he saw it asa threat to his life.
He protested. Roland only laughed
With hatred in his heart, there-
fore, Ganelon went to treat with the
enemy. And treat he did: He told the
Saracens that if they feigned surrender
to Charlemagne, they would have vic-
tory in the end. They agreed to the
treachery. He then informed the Em-
peror that the Saracens would yield
Then Charlemagne withdrew his
forces from Spain, leaving a rear guard
of twenty thousand, under the com-
mand of Roland, to protect the
mountain passes at Roncevalles. The
He found the Plain of Muirthemne of her people around the field. They were
Saracens attacked almost at once, with crowded with the linked shields of the men of power and commanded obedience.
a force many times larger than Ro-
land's small army
Irish and the air dusty with the lime they The first summoned Cuchulain from
Into the pass the enormous host used to coat the leather. Straight in among the fray and demanded a spear. Cuchu-
swept, white robes flying and scimi-
tars ablaze. From the heights Roland
them he charged, screaming like thunder lain refused it.
saw them. He could have summoned and shaking his shining spears. Scores fell "I will give you a bad name, if you re-
aid: He had a hunting hom whose call
could be heard across the mountains
before him until the plain was reddened fuse me this boon," cried the bard.
in France. But he scorned this as cow- with crushed bodies. Cuchulain regarded him impassively
ardice. He sounded the horn only at
the end of the battle, when his army
from the height of the chariot, for a bard's
lay dying, and that call was a cry for curse on a warriors honor was a shame in-
vengeance, nota plea foraid. Roland
died with his face turned toward
uchulain was a fearsome enemy, deed. Then he hurled the spear at the man
Spain, unflinching to the last but Maeve had a plan. The hag with a force that sent the blade through his
Charlemagne and his armies an-
swered the call; it was said that the sun
daughters of Calatin had told her that Cu- eye and the shaft through his head.
delayed its setting until the Emperor chulain’s spears would kill three kings that But Lugaid of Munster, he who sought
destroyed the Saracens. That ven-
geance done, he did another, for by
day, and she was determined to have those vengeance for his father, retrieved the
then the traitor's name was known spears. She therefore stationed the bards weapon and wiped away the blood and
Ganelon’s punishment was this: Sol-
diers tied his limbs to the hamesses of
four war horses, which charged in the
four directions of the compass, tear-
ing Ganelon into quarters

48
pieces of brain and bone and hurled it at self, and as he did, an otter—called by the
Cuchulain's chariot. It struck the driver, Irish the “water dog" — crept up to drink the
Loeg. Calatin’'s daughters, hovering above blood that stained the water. Witha stone,
the battlefield, gibbered and howled their Cuchulain killed the beast and thus his last
triumph: Cuchulain had lost his first heroic act, like the first of his youth, was
spear. It had killed the king of charioteers. the slaying of a dog. With the leather
A second bard called out. Again Cuchu- thong that held his breastplate, he
lain's spear was demanded, and again Cu- strapped his body to a pillar stone. Then
chulain refused it. the king of warriors died, alone among his
"| will put a bad name on the province of enemies, standing on his feet.
Ulster if you refuse me the spear,” cried the
bard, and as before, Cuchulain flung it
and killed the man. And as before, a he day turned black. The ravens of
vengeful enemy—Erc of Leinster—re- the battle goddess rode the winds
trieved and flung the spear. It killed Cu- above the Plain of Muirthemne and the
chulain's horse, the Gray of Macha. The sounds of their harsh calling rent the air.
Ulster champion had lost his second In icy sheets, the rains lashed down as if
spear, the king of horses had been killed the very skies wept for the death of Cuchu-
with it, and the daughters of Calatin lain. For heroes were the hearts of their
screamed black triumph. kingdoms’ strength, and untold power re-
Yet once more a bard summoned the sided in their persons. So much were they
hero in the heat of battle and demanded a revered, in fact, that in Ireland, dead
spear on pain of curses on Cuchulain’s kin. champions often were buried standing up-
And yet again Cuchulain killed the bard right in full battle dress with their blind
and the hags howled the louder. For Lu- faces turned toward the lands of the en-
gaid of Munster pulled the spear from the emy, silent sentinels under the earth.
victim's head and, with unerring aim, sent Early death was the hero's fate. All of
it through Cuchulain where he stood in them walked, as Cuchulain had, a narrow,
the chariot, so that Cuchulain’s flesh was twisty path hedged with mortal conflict.
ripped open and his intestines spilled out. Their obligations and duties, inevitably
He knew he had his death wound and he put in opposition, made a tragic pattern
leaned a moment on the chariot's rail, for their lives. Ironclad and inescapable,
while the Irish warriors backed away, mur- one claim was set against another, so that
muring fearfully among themselves to see the honorable were forced to choose be-
him standing with such a wound, as if he tween dishonors and pay a tragic price.
were immortal. Then the Hound of Ulster Cuchulain, for instance, had a duty to
pressed his guts back into his belly and obey his king and to protect his province.
bound it with his battle sash. Slowly he Yet he had also the obligation to avoid
dismounted and slowly walked to a lake shame and to be ready always to exercise
that bordered the field. He washed him- his powers, regardless of the outcome. Cu-

49
 Che violent creed
Of Vengeance
Perhaps because they were stronger
than ordinary men, heroes were fated
to endure greater suffering: Life-
and-death choices were their bitter
lot. Such was the fate of Orestes
of Mycenae, who could fulfill his chulain knew his death would be a disaster the Hound of Ulster, was forbidden to eat
duty to avenge the murder of his fa-
for Ulster and he knew by the signs that his the animal that bore his name. In those
ther, Agamemnon, only by slaying
the murderer — who was Orestes own death was near. But he had to fight: Any days names were charged with meaning,
mother, Clytemnestra
conflict between a hero's obligations to his profoundly linked to the thing they
The cycle of revenge began with
the Trojan War, when King Agamem- lord and to valor itself had to be resolved named, to harm one's namesake was little
non sacrificed his daughter to the
in favor of that which made him a hero. different from harming oneself.
gods to get fair wind for his ships
When the war was won and Agamem- And this pattern of inner conflict was
non sailed home triumphant, Clytem-
openly expressed, in Ireland and Britain,
nestra, fired with rage for her child,
murdered him with an ax as he bathed in the magical bonds ofgeasa that confined his heroic imperative could be ex-
Then Clytemnestra set out to rule
Mycenae in Agamemnon's place,
the actions of the valiant. Geasa were ploited by crafty enemies, as Cu-
which she did successfully with the meant to serve as protections and as indi- chulain's other-world mistress did when
aid of her lover, the beautiful and cor-
rupt Aegisthus. She knew that there
cations of rank. Thus the King of Ulster she bound his son Conla with the geasa
was danger: Her son Orestes had been was forbidden to attack alone a boar in its that led to Conla’s death. Maeve, too,
taken to safety in the mountains after
the murder, and vengeance was a son's
den, a prohibition obviously designed to used the trickery of conflict when she sent
duty. But the years passed peacefully safeguard the precious person of the King. Calatin's daughters to provoke Cuchulain
Clytemnestra’s power grew
Orestes matured into a fine young
Cuchulain was forbidden to refuse a feast, and force forbidden meat on him, and
warrior. He knew his destiny but, it a rule of courteous behavior for those of when she ordered her bards to threaten his
was said, made no move until the god
Apollo himself forced the decision
royal blood. But many geasa were made to honor and thereby cost him his spears.
Clytemnestra must die, and at Ores- avert supernatural evils. The Ulster King The source of the hero's greatness,
tes’ hand, to satisfy the god
could not bathe in Loch Foyle, in the then, was also the source of his vulnerabil-
Atlast, Orestes acted. He went to
Mycenae. With a sword, he butchered northernmost part of Ulster, on May Day. ity. And it was so not only when rules of
his mother's lover. He showed her the
(May Day, being the interstitial period be- valor were in conflict: The hero's very na-
body before he killed her, too. His
father was avenged. But for Orestes, tween winter and summer, was a period ture —his more than mortal beauty, his lov-
the matricide could not rest; his pun-
ishment was implacable pursuit by the
outside mortal definition, since it was nei- ing and generous heart—too often placed
Eryines, avenging goddesses who ther one thing nor another. On that day him at odds with his duty.
haunted him with visions of ghouls
and dreams of hell; Orestes became a
the powers of the other world were strong This was especially true in matters of
and mortals at most risk. )And Cuchulain, love. The wife or lover of the hero intro-

Z
stranger to sleep and earthly peace
duced a new focus for his loyalty; she
could become a pivot that diverted his
Zz. faithfulness from king and comrades. Prin-
<a ciples, after all, were one thing: The
bloom of a cheek, the glint of hair in sun-
light, the curve of a breast beneath
bleached linen were quite another. These
were things that could melt the iron com-
pass of honor, making straight lines yaw
into arabesques of quandary and doubt.
And when the woman who possessed
them also possessed a disregard for her
own duties—or a love that overcame
them — disaster followed. It had happened and graces of the bards themselves. But
at King Conchobar's court in Ulster, when save for Levarcham, Deirdre never saw an-
Cuchulain was a young knight still, and it other living person.
led to dishonor and death. Until one night a hunter stumbled upon
A day of portents came. Conchobar's her hiding place. He saw Deirdre; later he
bard and wizard, Cathbad, sensed that told King Conchobar about her and such
time was out ofjoint; he rose with the first were his praises that the King himself trav-
light and watched the skies. The day eled to the mountains to look upon the
dawned clear and blue. When the sun was girl. What the King saw filled him with
fully up, however, a staining cloud slid desire; over Levarcham’s protests he took
darkly over the horizon, leading others of the maiden to his high-walled fortress at
its kind. The wind screeched all the morn- Emain Macha, intending to make her his
ing and at noon the ground began to trem- bride. Conchobar heard Levarcham’s
ble. Strange sounds filled the afternoon warnings, but his only answer was a shrug.
air—of screaming, of waves seething on He had a strong and reckless will.
stones, of women’s moans. Conchobar gave Deirdre a year and a
Night fell at last, ominously silent. An day to learn the ways of a king's house and
infant girl was born to the wife of the observed with pleasure how she blos-
King's harper. Cathbad went at once to the somed. He decked her in treasures. From
harper’ house and gazed upon the child. her long braids swung the hollow golden
It was she the storm had brought, he said. spheres that princesses wore then, and her
She would become a woman of unparal- white neck was embraced with a curved
leled beauty, but ill fortune would follow collar of gold. Her tunics were fine linen,
in her footsteps: Heroes and kings would pinned at the shoulder with brooches of
contend for her; she would blight Ulster scrolled bronze, and her cloaks were of the
with a pox of graves. “Name her Deirdre," sheerest wool. She was a bright flower
Cathbad said. The name meant “troubler. "
Such infants were killed in those days,
a
SS
but this was the harper's only child. Seek-
ing to thwart fate, therefore, he took her
\\
into the mountains. Behind a green hill he
built a little house for her, roofed with
green sod and walled about with apple
trees. Abardnamed Levarcham — ascholar-
ly woman and a friend to the harper—
stayed with Deirdre as her nurse.
For fourteen years the child lived with :
Levarcham in her mountain fastness,
growing into a maiden as beautiful as a
swan. She was schooled in the knowledge

|(e
Betrothed to the King of Ulster, Deirdre of the Sorrows eloped to
Scotland with the three sons of Usnech. Conchobar the King sent his own WY Sy .

kinsman, Fergus Mac Roy, as an envoy to tempt ber back into his power. Cpa
TPIS Ser

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among the pale maidens of the court, and the blue of his eyes. Two men paced
the King—heedless of Cathbad's warn- beside him. All three were singing, and the —
ings — watched her with lustful interest and song they sang had the flutelike sweet-
waited for the year to pass. ness of the mistle thrush and the soaring
But Deirdre hardly noticed, for growing gaiety of the skylark. The farmers in the
into a woman as she was, she found that all fields paused and listened and smiled as
things were new to her. And one sunny the young men passed by; for they were
afternoon, as she sat with her maidens on the sons of Usnech, beloved in that prov-
the lawn by the ramparts of Emain Macha, ince for their valor and their merry, open-
high above the clustering houses that hearted natures. The tallest was Naoise;
climbed the hill below, Deirdre saw a sight his brothers were Ainle and Ardan.
that struck her to the heart. Deirdre rose and followed them. She
Striding down the dusty road that led ran along the road, calling after them, and
away from the fortress was a magnificent although his brothers urged him away,
man. He was not a craggy, secret, staring Naoise paused and turned.
man like the King. He was taller than all His fate had come upon him. Star-
the warriors of the fortress; his hair bright, of a beauty that filled him with joy
shone black, glittering in the sun- and sadness both at once, Deirdre stood
light like a raven’'s wing, and before Naoise. There and then she cap-
even from a distance, tured his entire heart. His brothers saw
ie
Deirdre could see this and warned him of the harm that
N22
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would come if he took the woman the King
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they
Conchobar ordered that they be fol-
lowed as soon as he learned of his loss. For
months he tracked them through the prov-
_ inces of Ireland, but the sons of Usnech bound by a geis: They could leave Scot-
were too swift for the King. At length, land only under the protection of the
word came that they had taken Deirdre King's greatest warriors, Conall of the Vic-
across the sea to Scotland, where the tories and Cuchulain, or of Conchobar's
brothers fought for the Scots King, and kinsman, Fergus. No one had heard of this
Conchobar, defeated by distance, gave up geis; it seemed clear that Conchobar had
the chase. Although he ceased to speak of plans the warriors knew nothing about.
vengeance as the years went by, Concho- Conall and Cuchulain refused to take part
bar did not forget the woman, and the and left Emain Macha; Fergus trusted his
wound to his pride continued to fester. nephew the King, however, and with his
own two sons sailed for Scotland.
They landed at Loch Eitch in the west
mong his warriors, the memory of and found the houses that the sons of
Deirdre soon faded, for she was Usnech had built and saw Deirdre happy
but a maid who had been only briefly with as she was then. Naoise and his
them. The loss of the sons of Usnech was a
lasting sorrow, however. They were loved ly, longing for their home-
for their bravery and for their sunny na- land and for the com-- al Ze
tures. Thus when Conchobar announced pany of the Red @
that he had forgiven the three, his Red Branch knights. ~~ gM
Branch knights were filled with glad- Fergus pledged
ness, although some of them wondered at their safe
the ways of the King's mind.

: ——)

TAN

WW
OM,
K

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Ll I
 passage, but Deirdre wept when they
sailed, and the lament she sang on ship-
board for Scotland —for the wooded har- themto uphold his pledge.
bors, for the bird song echoing in the And Deirdre knew the next bad ling
branches, for the clear sea washing the
beaches, for the joy she had had there—
drifted sadly over the wrinkling sea. When
they landed in Ulster, Fergus and the sons but in the House of the Red Bran
of Usnech were deaf to the omens that King did not appear—and Deird
marked their journey— to the eerie hooting hood companion, Levarcham,
of the tawny owl and the rare, chill song of them of Conchobar's
swans on the Moyle. But Deirdre heard. treachery. Later,
And, feeling her fate come upon her, one of the #
she recognized the first bad thing for what King's men /
it was: They lost the guardianship of Fer- came and /
gus soon after they disembarked. A lord of stared at |
Ulster—a close companion of the King—
had a feast waiting at his hall and he sum-
moned Fergus to it. Fergus, like many
of royal blood, was bound by the geis
that he could not refuse a feast. He
hesitated, red with anger and sus-
pecting Conchobar's trickery—
this bond conflicted with /#
his pledge for the safety
_of the sons of Usnech.
But at length he sub- ,
mitted to the bond
and sent Deirdre

AS
a
is
DWE eae OE Y :
WO
sy iS
 1 toUlster, King Conchobar betrayed his yoni of safety.
He cemmanded anillusion of the sea to surround her protectors, so that they
rds and died in battle. Deirdre was left to the King.

the warriors of Ulster fought and died.

_ The sons of Usnech kept Deirdre safe
and themselves alive until dawn. When
the light broke at last, they linked their
- shields and, with Deirdre hidden behind
them, burst through the doors of the Red
Branch House and made for freedom.
some of his But the doors opened into the depths of
st the sons of Usnech : the sea, Cold salt water swept around
d some for them. One of Fergus’ them. Drowning, they dropped their
sons defended the prisoners, the shields and swords to swim upward, push-
<u _other was seduced by the ing toward the air.
\ King with the prom- Then the waves trembled and faded,
. ise of land. All and the weaponless men found themselves
\, night long, in the grip of Conchobar's guards. The en-
, while the gulfing water had been no more than illu-
| fire raged, sion, conjured by Cathbad to stop the |
‘fighting after Conchobar promised that
the sons of Usnech would get no harm
from him. He had lied. He had the broth- |
ers killed—by a mercenary from Norway, |
because no man of Ulster would slay the |
sons of Usnech. The sword that killed
them beheaded them all at one blow, so
that none need see his brother die. As for
Deirdre, the bearer of bad fate, there
were differing accounts of her end.
Some said she died at once, drinking
the blood from the necks of the sons
of Usnech. But others said that she
wandered alone, mad____
with grief for Naoise, CO
until she came to the
 :Bereft of ber beloved combundian Deirdre wished for life no i : Ap
Rte) longer. With a knife, she stabbed herself. Shethrew the wea OF
: into the sea, that no one should bear the blame for her death. ie
ae
set this curse on the -
| ae a a
NOR 2 :
e fro m at Con cho bar 's lyin g,
of the sea. She took nga knif
oh) shores nter there and» Kin g: that Ae Sone progeny
aad
NY a carpe who. was worki

stabbed herself to death. bs ever sit on the throne of Ulster.

oe: And as for Fergus, when he at lastar’ ~ None did: Conchobar's sons died child-
WSS : ‘ 5 : ‘ ap os Sy cte eae
& NSS rived at Emain Macha and found that his lessin his own: lifetime. The fortress
at
pledge of safety had been broken by the Emain Macha was restored and the Red
King, he tookrevenge. Withhismen—and_ Branch knights were reunited to fight in
with Conchobar's son beside him—he the endless wars against other Irish prov-
burned the fortress to the ground. Thenhe inces. But when, in those cycles of ven-
and his company left Ulster forever and geance, the champion Cuchulain died, the
gave their service to Conchobar's enemy, power of Ulster deteriorated. For centu-
Maeve of Connacht. So Fergus became a _ ries, it and the other Irish provinces were
traitor because of the principles of honor. racked by petty wars, invasions and rebel-
One wrong —Conchobar's deceit—forceda lions. At last, however, long after Cuchu-
choice between two other wrongs, forhad _ lain's death, order was restored by a race of
Fergus been with the sons of Usnech in- powerful kings, who carved outa province
stead of honoring the bonds of his geis, forthemselves—called Meath, or"the Mid-
Conchobar would not have dared to dle,” because it was at the very center of
Su murder them. And the the country—and commanded the fealty
‘A wizard Cath- of the lords of every Irish province.
~~ bad, enraged The most magnificent of these High
i Kings was Cormac Mac Art, and his was
the reign in which the brotherhood known
as the Fianna reached its zenith. Founded
during the reign of Cormac's grandfather,
the Fianna was an army of men who were
peace-keepers when the land was quiet and
soldiers in times of war. They roamed
throughout Ireland; in the summer they
 lived in the open, in the winter they were en from his cupped hands \ ‘
quartered with the people. te: saved the dying. It was said om a
_ As warriors they formed an elite, and Finn that ifhis deadliest enemy and +?
_ those who wished to join their ranks had to his son came before him for arbitration
_ pass a formidable battery of tests. The first of a quarrel, the enemy need not fear un-
_ prerequisite was mastery of Irish poetry, fair judgment. And he was as famed for his
but this was child's play compared with the generosity as for his justness.
trials of valor and skill that the Fianna im- Finn was no Conchobar and his warriors
posed. The candidate had, among other were milder men than those of the Red
__ things, to stand knee-deep ina trench and Branch. Yet they were bound by the same
with a shield and hazel wand protect him- conflicting rules of honor as Conchobar's
self from the javelins of nine warriors; he knights. And when people made use of
had to survive unwounded a chase these codes for their own ends, the result
through a thick wood and run so agilely was dishonor. Such a tragedy touched |}
that no braid of his hair—the Fianna plait- even Finn near the end of his life.
ed their long locks— could be loosened at In the winter of his years, Finn desired a
the end. And during this chase he had to, bride to warm him. He had been married
without hesitating, jump branches as high before—to the offspring of kings and to a
as his forehead and duck under those no woman of the fairy people—but these
higher than his knee. At no time could he wives were gone. The woman he chose
display the slightest fear. now was auburn-haired Grainne,
If he survived the trials, he joined a daughter of the High King, Cormac
band of brothers whose deeds became the Mac Art. She was a proud and head-
stuff of legend. In Cormac's time, they strong maid, who had refused a
were led by the chieftain Finn Mac Cumal, dozen fine matches. But when Cor- \. ° ~<y
whose name glittered with glories. It was mac told her of Finn's offer, she acqui- ~~
said that while still a boy he slew a night esced, albeit with indifference. She said
aor

creature that each year burned the High words to the effect that if the leader of
King’s fortress at Tara, that he had tasted a the Fianna was good enough for the
magic salmon and thus acquired a wizard's
powers, that he excelled swallows in speed
and dolphins at swimming, that water giv-
 High King, he was good enough for her. warrior— young, not gray-haired like her
So with his band of heroes, Finn left his husband — witha cap low on his brow. This
stronghold on the Hill of Allen, a lime- was Diarmuid. He had journeyed under
stone peak towering over the Leinster wet- the sea once and killed a sorcerer who had
lands, and journeyed to the High King's ensnared the Fianna. He was famed for his
fortress at Tara for the wedding feast. valor and his insouciance. A fate awaited
him, an enchanted boar that had been
made to avenge a murder Diarmuid's father
feasting at Tara then was a time had done; but the boar was far away, and
of marvels. Five great roads led to Diarmuid seemed unaware of the menace.
the grassy hill where the fortress stood, its As Grainne watched Diarmuid, all the
lime-washed double ramparts shining while making conversation with her grave
white across the surrounding plain. With- husband, a fight broke out among the
in the walls were the King’s round palaces, hounds in the hall. Diarmuid leaped up
his houses for hostages and for troops; his and pulled the animals apart, and in doing
feather-covered greenan, a pleasance built so he lost the cap he wore to hide a small
for Grainne and her ladies, and his twelve- mark —set on his forehead by an enchant-
doored banqueting hall, more than seven ress — that was said to entrance any woman
hundred feet long and made of carved and who looked on it. Grainne saw the mark.
painted timber. There, the warriors’ Pride, honor and duty fled from her heart.
shields were hung so that each man might She did not hesitate. From her ciorbolg —
be seated before his own. The guests were the small bag in which women carried their
summoned by golden trumpets, and ivory combs — she drew a sleeping draught.
harpers played to them as they ate. She slipped the powder into a wine cup
Grainne sat with her father and Finn, and offered the wine to each of the guests.
now her husband, at the high table and Only Diarmuid was offered no wine.
contemplated the men of the Fianna. In moments, every guest but Diarmuid
There were so many, such a spectacle of was slumped over the table. As Diarmuid
blue eyes and bronzed skin and braided viewed the scene in surprise, Grainne ap-
hair, such an aura of strength and vigor proached him. She smiled and said calmly,
and merriment, that it was hard to tell “Take me from this place tonight."
them apart. There was Finn's son Oisin, Appalled at the invitation to betray his
the sweet singer, and his grandson Oscar, leader and his honor, Diarmuid refused.
commander of a battalion that had never Grainne was not disturbed. She looked
retreated. Slender Caoilte was there, down modestly, and when she looked up
famed for his fleetness. One-eyed Goll again, iron will shone from her eyes.
was there, a fierce fighter; and Conan, full "I place you under a geis to take me away
of bragging idiocies, but faithful. tonight,” she said, and left the hall.
But the man Grainne’s eyes lingered on His companions began to wake and
was none of these. She watched a splendid Diarmuid approached the two who were

58
his closest friends. He told them of the muid and Grainne went to live at Ceiscor-
bond Grainne had placed on him and of ainn, far from Finn's fortress. The time
his dilemma; but both said the geis must be came when the Fianna, with Finn at their
obeyed. Diarmuid put the question to head, journeyed to Ceiscorainn to feast
Finn himself phrasing it theoretically. with them and seal the peace.
Finn raised his brows in surprise. In the small hours of the morning after
"A geis must be followed," he said. they arrived, Diarmuid woke to the baying
And so in the night, like the thief he had of a hound a mile away on Benbulben. He
become, Diarmuid left Tara with Grainne rose and armed himself. Grainne drowsily
and made for the wilderness. tried to stop him, but he paid no mind. He
Years of flight followed. Wise in its fetched his own hounds and made off
ways, Diarmuid followed the rules: The across the valley and up the steep slopes of
couple never sheltered in a tree with only the ben. Near the crest, in the morning
one trunk or ina cave with only one open- mists, a figure stood alone. It was Finn.
ing. They never ate where they cooked, "Some of us came out after midnight,”
never slept where they ate and never slept Finn said. “A hound caught the scent of a
in one place the night through. To retrieve boar. We've lost it now, best leave it.”
what he could of his honor, Diarmuid re- For a hero, the fated end was inelucta-
fused to touch Grainne; and at night he ble: achallenge that, even with the certain-
left outside their camp a loaf of unbroken ty of defeat, must be accepted. Diarmuid
bread to signify that Finn's wife remained a had ageis not to hunt boar, because of the
virgin. But Grainne had a nature fired by a beast that was his end. He knew that it was
grand passion, she waited. this boar and that its presence was Finn's
Finn, as’ skilled as Diarmuid in flight doing. He knew that his happiness with
and pursuit, tracked the pair easily. He Grainne was no more than an interlude be-
saw the bread and knew its meaning but fore the tightening of the coil that had
still he followed. His son and grandson been shaped years before at Tara. The im-
tried to call him off: As he himself had portant thing now was to die, as he had
said, a geis must be obeyed, and Diarmuid failed to live, with honor.
was obeying as honorably as he could. But
the pair had shamed the old man, and he
could not heed his kin. He fought Diar- hudding hoofbeats preceded the
muid when he could, but the younger man eruption of the boar into the clear-
always escaped; sometimes, it was said, ing where they stood. Diarmuid’s hounds
with aid from the other world. fled when they saw the murderous eyes
The passionate will cannot be resisted and curving tusks of the enormous animal.
forever, at last Diarmuid took Grainne for But it was Diarmuid the boar wanted.
his own and ceased to leave the unbroken While Finn watched impassively, the
loaf outside his camp. But in the end, Finn young man cast a spear, it struck between
was persuaded to make his peace. Diar- the animal's eyes and bounced off the

“Ly
60
At the feast of ber wedding to Finn Mac Cumal, Grainne ofIreland was smitten by the
beauty ofFinn's knight Diarmuid. With a magic drink, she drugged the wedding guests,
with magic oaths, she bound Diarmuid to flee with her and so betray bis duty to Finn.
61
 When Diarmuid lay with his death wound, only Finn Mac Cumal could save him: Water
from Finn's bands could heal the dying. But Finn recalled the wrong that had
been done to him; and the healing drops trickled through his fingers.

thick skull. The boar charged. Diarmuid lay. But as he approached, his lips tight-
withstood the onslaught and brought his ened with the memory of Grainne, and the
sword down on the creature's neck, but the water trickled through his fingers.
blade shattered. Locked together, man Again Oscar spoke. Again Finn got wa-
and beast struggled; the boar dragged ter. Again he let it trickle away.
Diarmuid across the grass for endless mo- His grandson called on Finn's honor,
ments until at last, in a welter of blood, and knowing he must, Finn brought water
both were still. Diarmuid lay dying where a third time and held it to Diarmuid's lips.
he had fallen, his body torn open by the But Diarmuid was already dead.
yellow tusks. The boar was dead; Diar- So in the end the tragedy and the glory
muid's sword hilt had smashed its head. were Diarmuid's. Caught by the chains of
Finn heard shouts as the men of the honor, he met with courage the death he
Fianna climbed the ben, drawn by the knew fate held in store. At the last, urged
noise of the battle. He stood over Diar- by his grandson, Finn made the move that
muid, a wry smile played about his lips: saved his name.
“You are not so beautiful as you once And his name shone steadily through
were, Diarmuid,” he said. long, dark centuries. The Fianna, as the
Finn's grandson Oscar heard and said years passed, grew mighty, and arrogant in
angrily, “Give him his life back.” For all their might. Loyal only to their brother-
knew that water from Finn's hands would hood, they rebelled against the High King
save a dying man. Finn shook his head. and were finally destroyed.
"Give him his life," said Oscar again. But just as people said Cuchulain rode
“For the deeds | did for you when I was the skies in his battle chariot many years
with the Fianna,” said Diarmuid with diffi- after his death, they said the best and
culty, “give me my life now." brightest of the Fianna survived. With
Slowly Finn walked over to a small Finn they slept an enchanted sleep in a
spring. He filled his hands with the cold cave hidden from mortal eyes, waiting for
_ water, and while his grandson watched, he the time when Ireland should need them
walked slowly back to where Diarmuid and Finn would again awake. GaS~
The warrior was a woman. Sigurd had awakened her from a magical sleep.
 Creachery
of the Dibelungs
Glory and treachery, early death and endless sorrow—these
were the threads that Scandinavian poets wove into songs
about Sigurd, the last of Denmark's Volsung clan. The Vol-
sungs were a race of heroes descended from the gods. True
to his high lineage, Sigurd had barely reached manhood when
he slew a dragon that stood baleful watch over a treasure hoard.
He capped the conquest by bathing in the beast's blood. This
made his flesh invulnerable, save for one place on his shoulder
where a linden leaf had fallen and covered his skin while he
took the gruesome bath.
After his encounter with the dragon, Sigurd rode south in
search of new adventure. Before many days passed, he spied a
pillar of smoke rising from a mountain peak and, eager to know
the cause, guided his horse Greyfell up the slope. As he neared
the summit, he saw that the mountain itself burned: The peak
was ringed with ramparts of fire.
Sigurd spurred his horse straight toward the flame, and
Greyfell went willingly, hoofs hammering on the burning coals
as if on cold pebbles. As they entered the fire, it subsided to
flickering tongues of flame and then died to ashes. Sigurd saw

65
The flames sprang up around Brynbild, guarding ber until Sigurd should claim her again.
what it had shielded: a stone bier, and on the bier, the gold-
clad body of a warrior.
Dismounting, he removed the warrior's helmet. A wealth of
golden hair tumbled out, framing a sternly beautiful face. He
cut the thongs that held the glittering breastplate. The warrior
was a woman. Moreover, she was alive: Sigurd had evidently
awakened her from a magical sleep.
For a moment, the woman gazed gravely up at him. Then,
with the litheness of the battle-trained, she sprang to her feet
and stood before him. She spoke, and Sigurd's heart leaped
within his breast. Sigurd had breached the fire fortress, the
woman warrior said, and only the bravest of mortals could do
so. She was therefore his.
This woman was a hero's prize indeed, as Sigurd recognized
when she told him her name: Brynhild. She was a Valkyrie—one
of the heroic troop of near-goddesses who rode the clouds
high above a battlefield, choosing the warriors who would
perish in glory. Once, however, she had chosen a warrior be-
fore his appointed time, and she had been condemned to live
among humankind and learn its sorrows. But because she was a
Valkyrie, she was sent into a deep sleep, secure in the fire
fortress, so that only the greatest of heroes—he who braved the
flames—should have her.
For a time—none knew how long—Sigurd and Brynhild
talked together, and at last they pledged their troth. In token of
his vow, Sigurd gave the Valkyrie a ring that he had taken from
the dragon's hoard; she gave him runic charms to keep him
high-hearted and strengthen his sword. Then the mortal rode

67
The Nibelung Queen Grimbild offered Sigurd a cup of wine tainted by her dark arts.
away to find a king to serve—and deeds to do to make him
worthy of this woman of the clouds. Behind him, the Valkyrie
sank once more onto her bier. The flames sprang up, guarding
her until Sigurd should claim her again.
Sigurd traveled long months through the world, finally
reaching the land of the Nibelungs, a forest tribe ruled by a
King called Giuki. Sigurd's air of honor and courage won
him entrance to the King’s hall, and his tale of dragon gold and
of his Valkyrie won him the attention of the Queen. Grimhild
was her name; she was a sorceress, and she was ruled only by
ambition for her children.
As she listened to the warrior's tale, the thought came to her
that he was a fitting match for her daughter Gudrun. At once
she devised a way to achieve this end, offering the warrior a cup
of wine tainted by her dark arts. Sigurd's mind clouded, and the
memory of his battle maiden slipped away. Beside him stood
Gudrun, tender and fair, his heart moved toward her.
Not many weeks passed before Sigurd married Gudrun, just
as the sorceress had planned. Gudrun's family became his,
and Sigurd was as a brother to her brothers—to Guttorm and
Hogni and especially to Gunnar, the eldest and the best. Sig-
urd and Gunnar hunted together and went to war together, and
they swore eternal friendship.
Then Grimhild, who watched all her children's doings
closely, was ready to make her second match. She sent her son
Gunnar to woo Brynhild, finest of maidens, and she sent Sig-
urd to aid him. Sigurd, his mind still held by the sorceress’s
magic, the memory of his promise gone, was eager to help

69
mancnmeeainton
his companion and brother, in this matter as in all others.
The two young men traveled to Brynhild’s enchanted
mountain. Sigurd held back while Gunnar charged the fire
fortress. Gunnar's horse refused to breach the ring of flames.
Then Gunnar tried again with Sigurd’s horse, but Greyfell
would move for no rider other than Sigurd.
In the end, they used a ruse—as Grimhild no doubt had
anticipated would be necessary, for she had sent with them the
magic that made it. With the aid of spells, the young men
exchanged shape; in the guise of Gunnar, Sigurd charged the
flames and approached the Valkyrie. Brynhild found a stranger
by her bier. She believed then that Sigurd must be dead, for
only the greatest warrior in the world could breach her wall of
flame. This man had clearly taken Sigurd's place in honor and
valor. Grieving, she gave him her golden ring and agreed that,
as her own fate demanded, she would marry him.
Strife came into the family of the Nibelung Kings at the
wedding feast of its eldest son. Beside Gunnar and Brynhild in
the hall sat Sigurd with his wife, Gudrun, and Gudrun wore
upon her hand the golden ring of the dragon hoard. Brynhild
stared. It was the very same Sigurd she had loved, tall, hand-
some, with a broad brow and hair like curled copper. He met
her eyes and looked away.
In the days that followed, the women quarreled. Gudrun
had seen the Valkyrie's look of longing for her husband, and
she did not like it. She told Brynhild what Sigurd had said
secretly (and innocently, having lost all memory of his vow to
Brynhild): He had wooed Brynhild for Gunnar. Gudrun
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given to her, his wife, to wear.
Then Brynhild turned away from her husband, Gunnar,
with contempt. It was not he who had ridden through the ring
of flames, and the trick he had used brought shame to her. She
spoke against Sigurd and demanded that Gunnar kill him to
retrieve his own lost honor.
But Gunnar would not do it. Sigurd, he said, was his blood
brother. Brynhild appealed—as was her right—to Gunnar's
younger brother Hogni, who had a spiteful nature and a taste
for treachery. He took on the task. He began with Sigurd’s wife
and contrived, with smooth words and protestations of anxiety
for Sigurd's safety, to make that loose-tongued woman reveal
to him the one vulnerability that Sigurd had—the spot on his
shoulder that the linden leaf had covered.
With that knowledge, the task of killing Sigurd was easy.
Hogni went hunting with him one day, deep in the German
forests, and watched while Sigurd brought down the prey. Hot
and thirsty, the two men raced for a spring to bathe and drink,
and Sigurd won the race. He rose from the water, wet and
laughing, his back to Hogni. Hogni thrust a spear at his shoul-
der, the blade entered and plunged deep.
Thus died Sigurd. Brynhild, wild with grief flung herself
on his funeral pyre and gave herself to the flame that she might
have him for eternity. As for Hogni and the rest of the Nibe-
lung brood, they died years later, tricked into fighting one
another by Gudrun, who from the moment of Sigurd's death
lived only for vengeance.

18
 Chapter Chree

Brotherhood of
the Round Table

ne time, in the age of Brit- ter the strangers, resolved on revenge.

ain’s shining glory, when King Arthur He rode for hours on a twisting, tree-
wore the crown, two mounted knights shrouded track until the forest gave way to
clashed in single combat. They battled for rolling fields and shadowy hills. The track
the sakes of two women, and the prize they led through this unfamiliar country to a
sought was a hawk. fortress; under its looming walls
The adventure began in this fashion: A and towers were clustered the Ee
Breton knight of Arthur's court, Erec, son slate-tiled roofs of a large town.
of Lac, rode out one fine spring morning Far ahead on the road Sir Erec
in attendance on Arthur's Queen while she saw three small mounted fig-
hunted with her ladies in the western for- ures, one clad in gold, near-
ests. In the course of the hunt, an aston- ing the town gates.
ishing event occurred. A knight clad in He spurred his horse
gold and blue appeared among the trees, and followed them.
and there was a lady beside him. The pair Within the
was accompanied by a squat dwarf who, gates, the streets of
while the mortal couple watched impas- the town were
sively, hurled insults at the Queen and— crowded, restlessly
when Sir Erec intervened— at Erec himself. eddying with a holiday
The dwarf advanced and struck the throng. Sir Erec's quarry was no-
Queen's knight across the face with a knot- where to be seen. His horse picked its way
ted scourge. Then, with a malevolent leer carefully over the cobblestones toward the
from the dwarf, a haughty laugh from the center of the town, Sir Erec ignored the
knight and a faint smile from the lady, the appraising glances cast his way. Court la-
curious trio wheeled their horses and van- dies in silvery velvets watched him from
ished into the forest. under modestly lowered lashes; red-
Sir Erec sent the Queen and her ladies faced matrons, their heads swathed ,
to safety under the escort of his squire. in linen wimples, smiled broad- *
Then he himself turned and, unarmed save ly; scarlet-robed trollops called x
for his sword and hunting bow, rode af- out open invitations. Oth-
4 \ , :

N
i »

\
 sy
——-
er people watched the young knight, too: determine which was the fairest. To the
cloaked riders with falcons on their wrists, victor went the sparrow hawk, the wind
———
te tonsured friars in robes of gray and black, rider whose strength and perfect beauty
ss
rubicund yeomen, peddlers, tinkers, beg- could be matched only by the best of
gars and thieves. women. For the last two years, the victor
Nobody intercepted him, however, and had been a knight named Yder, an aging,
he eventually arrived at the heart of the arrogant hulk of a man whose proud lady
town —a long grass-covered jousting field. had claimed the hawk each spring; none
At its verge was a tall pole, and perched dared challenge him any longer. Sir Yder
on the boss that crowned it was a spar- wore arms of gold and azure, and when Sir
row hawk whose folded wings were the Erec heard this, his lips tightened; he knew
gray of the roof tiles and whose breast was he had found the man he sought.
boldly barred with rufous brown. The
bird's head was hidden under a green
feathered hood, its legs were cuffed by e said little at the time, however. He
gold-belled jesses attached to a leash of walked with the old man and his
Spanish leather, and thus elegantly blind- daughter—for such was the fair young
ed and shackled, the fierce and beautiful woman-—to the house they had in the
creature waited quietly on its perch. town. He saw his horse safely stabled and
Sir Erec looked around to find his gaze at dinner learned something of his hosts.
met by a grave old man, a knight by his - The old man was a landowner who had
bearing, who stood at the edge of the field. sold his lands to pay for war ventures. He
Beside his tall, somber figure stood a no longer fought: Age and poverty pre-
young woman, plainly dressed in white vented it. His daughter, who was called
linen but of such fairness that Sir Erec’s Enide, was a woman without a dowry, and
breath caught in his throat and his hands a penniless woman, no matter how beauti-
tightened on the reins. His horse took an ful and good, had a hard lot in those days.
uncertain step backward, recalling him to Sir Erec cared nothing for that. He had
himself, and he saluted the stranger cour- seen Enide and he loved her. Himself the
teously. The old man bowed. Sir Erec, dis- son of a mighty prince, he had no need of a
mounting, joined him and tried not to dowry, and so he told his host. After the
stare at his fair young companion. wine had gone around and the fire had
Like most of Arthur's knights, Sir Erec faded to glowing embers, he said thought-
had an engaging, easy demeanor, and it fully, “Il would challenge Yder. | do not
was not long before the old man told him like that knight. And I will fight him in the
all he wished to know and offered the hos- lady's name, if she will have me, for she is
pitality owed to honorable strangers. The the fairest maiden that ever | saw."
town's holiday, he said, was the celebra- Enide blushed delicately, she glanced at
tion of a rite. Once each year, knights her father, and witha smile, he nodded. A
jousted there in honor of their ladies, to valorous prince was a fine match indeed.

76
 g¥/]

Thus easily, the thing was done-or at

——
-
And when the fighting started, ritual —~
————
least agreed upon. The battle still re- dictated the pace, the sequence of events,
Se
mained, and Yder was known as a warrior the pauses, the weapons—everything, in ee

who gave no quarter. fact, but the outcome. Jousting —mounted

In the silver dawn of the following day, battle with lances— opened the contest. SS

Enide armed Sir Erec in her own father's Facing each other across a field hundreds
harness, for the knight had brought none of feet long, the knights donned their hel-
of his own. Over a woolen shirt and mets, and ata signal from the heralds, each
breeches, he wore an acton, a leather tunic charged straight at the other. Riding with-
that protected him from the bite of his ar- out reins to leave his hands free—the
mor: A blow on chain mail could drive the horses responded to knee signals—each
links into a man’s flesh. A hauberk—a man held his shield athwart his body and
thirty-pound coat of mail — went over that. his lance pointed ahead with a slight de-
On his head, he wore a leather cap to ease flection toward his opponent. The best
the pressure of his helmet. This burnished fighters struck lance point to midshield,
helmet weighed twenty-five pounds, it but rare was the knight who could so accu-
was adorned with yellow ribbons, tied rately manipulate a point that floated
there by Enide as a sign of her favor. twice a man’s length ahead of him while his
Mounted on his own tall stallion, Sir mount's thundering pace rocked him in
Erec rode to the field to challenge Yder. the saddle. With an earsplitting crash,
Behind him rode Enide ona pretty palfrey, Erec and Yder struck. Both lances shat-
and the holiday crowd ceased its raucous tered at impact on the shields and the force
chatter at the sweet sight of her. threw both men to the ground.
Sir Yder was waiting. He laughed at Sir
Erec’s claim for Enide’s beauty. He sneered
at Erec's challenge, calling the younger he second stage of the tourney be-
knight a coward and a lily-faced stripling. gan. Their swords drawn, their
He ceased to sneer, however, when Sir movements encumbered by the weight of
Erec shouted execration upon his valor. their armor, the two circled slowly, chain
With a grim smile, Yder signaled to the mail chinking and jingling. Then they
heralds of the town. closed in. Turn and turn about, the great
Pushings and heavings and angry com- blades crashed down deafeningly on helm
mands at last cleared the field for the and shield and hauberk. Constricted by
antagonists. A ritual began, executed ac- their trappings, both striker and victim
cording to the strictest rules of chivalry, took minutes to recover from each blow,
which were known not only to the partici- while blots of their blood browned in the
pants but to every member of the crowd. dusty grass. Theirs was a long and ponder-
Insults were the conventional preliminary. ous dance, quite possibly one of death.
Had Erec and Yder been devoted brothers, Hours passed. Excitement in the crowd
they still would have taunted each other. ebbed and flowed as, again and again, a

Me
When Arthur was King, gallant knights fought in honor of their ladies. And so it
was that Sir Erec of the Round Table engaged in a mighty joust for the
fair Enide and won a prize for ber—a splendid little bunting bawk.

kill seemed imminent and was evaded. At "Dog," he said, “the time has come to
opposite sides of the field, Enide and end your folly."
Yder's lady sat on their palfreys, motion- So the last stage of the fight began.
less as statues except for the fluttering of Blades ringing, the men sought out the
theirveils in the breeze. On its high perch, chinks and gashes in each other's armor: A
the sparrow hawk, too, was quiet. The lunge that was not well parried could hook
shadows lengthened. Yder, the defender, in a seam of a hauberk and slip into the
called for a rest. flesh—or penetrate the visor and blind a
The two men paused, leaning on the knight. A careless turn sent blood down
hilts of their swords and panting for Yder's arm, the gold and azure tunic that
breath. Sir Erec turned his head and saw, he wore was spattered with it.
framed by the slits in his visor, the white Yder was growing tired; he lurched like
figure of Enide, sitting on the small gray a drunkard, and Erec, slighter but young-
horse. Heartened, he turned back to Yder. er, moved in. His sword smashed down on
Yder's helm and the knight hesitated,
swaying where he stood. A second blow
split the helmet and slashed bloodily into
the skull. Yder tottered; then, with a clang
of metal, he crashed to the ground.
Swift as a hound with a hare, Erec was
beside him, wrenching the shattered ven-
tail of the helm to expose Sir Yder's throat.
But the older man was not prepared to die.
Muffled by the remains of the helm, his
voice sounded on the field: “I yield to
your mercy,” he cried. "My sword is yours.
And the hawk to your lady."
But there was more to the surrender.
Yder bound himself and his lady and his
loathsome dwarf to journey to Arthur's
court and accept whatever punishment the
Queen chose for the insult he had given
her. After that he was left alone until his
people came to take him home, for the
crowd, silent in the last long moments of
the fight, surged around Sir Erec. They
pulled his battered helmet from his head
and, cheering, led him to his lady.
They cheered when Sir Erec took the
sparrow hawk from its perch and passed it
to Enide's hand. The bird, aloof through his inheritance, with Merlin at his side.
all the hours of bloodshed, stepped will- The young King had to fight for his
ingly onto her glove and roused and set- throne. It took him years to subdue the
tled its feathers. It seemed content there, various British factions and defend his
as if it had found a fellow spirit, loftily land against his enemies abroad. But his
distant from the conflicts of men. was a fine spirit—and he had the aid of
Sir Erec was a warrior who lived in a Merlin. It was Merlin who led Arthur to his
brave new world. Centuries had passed battle sword, Excalibur, the weapon
since the wild hunting days of the Irish forged by fairy people in a kingdom under
Fianna, and even longer since Cuchulain a lake. Its blade was invincible, its scab-
had died in glory. For decades, Britain, or bard healed any wound it touched, and
Logres as it was called, had been at peace, with Excalibur, Arthur united his realm.
guided by the steady hand of Arthur. pz?
The King was old now, but his vigor
was undiminished and the deeds of his twas Merlin, too, who ordered the cre-
youth still shone around him in a nimbus ation of the Round Table, at least ac-
of bright magic. His very birth, like that of cording to some chroniclers. It was said
earlier heroes, had been brought about by that he had the table built for the knights
enchantment, as even the youngest page of Arthur's father. Its shape reflected eter-
at court knew. Long years before, when nal perfection because it had no beginning
England was torn by civil strife and bat- and no end, because the table was circular,
tered by enemies from across the sea, the no one of the knights seated there could
archenchanter Merlin had changed the take precedence over another. Except for
shape of the reigning King, Uther Pen- one, that is: The table had a place called
dragon, to that of one of his lords, Gorlois the Siege Perilous, or dangerous seat,
of Cornwall. The spell had lasted for one which could be claimed only by the great-
night only, and in that night, at the windy est knight in the world, whose mettle
fortress of Tintagel in Cornwall, Uther would be proved, said one of Merlin’s
had fathered a son upon Gorlois’s wife, prophecies, by the greatest of quests.
Igraine. The child was Arthur, and because The seat remained unoccupied. Just be-
the times were troublous, Merlin had hid- fore he died, Uther gave the table to King
den the infant until he should be ready to Leodegran of Cornwall, and it became part
claim his throne when Uther died. of the dowry of Leodegran's daughter, the
That happened fourteen years later, loveliest princess of her day, when she
and Merlin took the youth to London. married Arthur. Her name was Guinevere,
There, before the eyes of the chief lords of and she brought to her husband not only
England, Arthur pulled from a stone a the Round Table, the object that signified
ceremonial sword that none but the right- the perfect unity of his company of
ful king could move. When its jeweled hilt knights, but also the seeds of something
slid into his hand, Arthur stepped into that would destroy that brotherhood.

79
 But the sad end was many years away in valor—had flocked to Arthur's side, for
when Sir Erec left the Queen's side to find to serve him was the aim in life forany man
and fight Yder. In Sir Erec's time, Arthur's of worth. Sir Gawain, staunchly faithful
None but the brave company was at the crest of its glory and and the model of chivalry, was there then,
deserved the fair his court was the finest in Christendom. carrying something of magic in his sunny
The Round Table stood in the great hall of nature, for his strength waxed from dawn
In the age of chivalry, people liked to
tell tales of the winning of fair women, Camelot, Arthur's fortress, which some until noon and waned as the sun descend-
and when they sang ofvaliant lovers, say was in Somerset and some in Cornwall. ed. With him were kindly Sir Percival,
they sang of Art of Ireland
He was the son of a High King The finest champions in the world—sons plodding, diligent Sir Bors; irascible and
named Conn of the Hundred Battles of lords and kings and princes, unmatched boastful Sir Kay; Sir Gareth, both brave
and a warrior like his father. All alone,
he made a quest to win a woman of
Faerie. She was called Delvcaem of the
Fair Shape and she was the unhappy
prisoner of her parents. Her mother, it
was said, was a sorceress who would
die when Delvcaem wed, and there-
fore she kept the maiden shut away
And with her husband, Morgan, she
murdered every suitor bold enough to
venture near her fortress
To gain Delvcaem, Art set sail on
forbidden seas where mortals never
went; he let the currents take him
into the lands of Faerie. And as he
neared her territory, the sorceress
knew it. By her magic she threw obsta-
cles into his path— witches and giants
and poisonous toads
Art slew them all and won his way
to the fortress of the sorceress. It was
ringed with bronze stakes, on each of
which was impaled the head of a war-
rior who had tried to win Delvcaem.
There was an empty stake, too, await-
ing Art's own head.
But Art was a man without fear,
and when the sorceress emerged in ar-
mor to challenge him to battle, he
fought her willingly. And it was her
head that ended up crowning the emp-
ty bronze stake. Then Art beheaded
Delvcaem’s father, Morgan
Whenhehad triumphed, Art took
the waiting Delvcaem in his arms. In
his valor he braved the sea once more
And, the storytellers said, magic
helped the lovers. The waves caressed
them as gently as a summer wind, to
carry the pair safe home to Ireland

80
and modest; Sir Palomides the Saracen; Sir as pages in noble households, where they
Dinadan, always swearing that discretion waited on adults and learned the arts of the
was the better part of valor, and yet always hunt and of war. Throughout the castle of
courageous, and the acknowledged cham- Camelot —in the great hall, in the Queen’s
pion, Sir Lancelot. They were 150 in all at solar, in the stables with the grooms, in the
the height of Arthur's reign. mews with the falconers, in the kennels
In later, safer, duller times, it is difficult with the dogboys — could be seen the little
to imagine the splendor of Camelot. High figures of the royal pages, anonymous, of-
on its grassy hill the castle rose, its battle- ten lonely and usually bone weary. It took
ments tier upon tier of golden stone, its years to train the mind and muscles to the
clustering towers crowned with the flutter- discipline of sword and saddle and the in-
ing standards of the King. Within the tricacies of the lance.
walls was a city of chivalry. There were At fourteen, promising pages became
barracks for soldiers, forges and armo- squires, entitled to wear helmets and spurs
ries for their weapons, stables and sad- and serve as apprentices and servants to
dleries for their horses, and mews for their knights in the field. If all went well, they
hawks. All of these were crowded near the were themselves knighted at twenty-one.
broad green jousting field, at a remove But chivalry implied much more than its
from the stately calm of the palace itself literal meaning. Under its aegis, the raw
with its great halls, its tapestried cham- ethics of ancient heroism had mellowed
bers, its library and treasury and chapel, and matured. The wild impulses of the he-
its maze of walled, flower-bright gardens. roes of Cuchulain's age had been refined
by anewcode, which molded instinct into
a repertoire of artifice, a code that pages
amelot sheltered a society of war- and squires absorbed as they grew.
riors, but time had wrought dra- A knight of Arthur's company was not
matic changes in the character of the only a warrior, bound by the rules of war-
knight. He had become chivalrous. The riors’ honor, but also a protector of the
word literally means only that he was a weak and of the unfortunate. He never
horseman: Equipped with powerful des- could refuse an appeal for aid. He was re-
triers, high, velvet-covered wooden sad- quired to fight with a semblance of hu-
dles and stirrups — which were invented in maneness: He could never intentionally
Asia and unknown in Europe in the Irish harm his opponent's horse, for instance.
heroes’ time —a warrior could fight secure- No dueling knight, unless it was agreed
ly from horseback, gaining ferocious mo- that the contest continue to the death,
bility thereby. could ignore an opponent's cry for mercy,
The chevalier's childhood was spent in and the fiercest duels sometimes ended
training for this demanding pursuit. At with the victor ripping strips from his tu-
the age of seven, boys of good birth were nic to bind his victim's wounds.
taken from their families and sent to live Forms and rules of behavior proliferat-

81
 ed, on the field and in the hall. Especially senger to cut off the offending finger.
in the hall, for the women who presided Ulrich was, of course, a case of history
there had acquired a new and curious sta- gone mad, a copybook example of male
tus, at least in theory. Their ancestresses obeisance to a sacred image of femininity.
had been warriors, and queens in their own At King Arthur's court, a mirror of chival-
right—or victims or lovers or simply bed- ry, few would have sympathized with this
mates — but these women were set on ped- self-humbling dotard, and not even the
estals as idols and as inspiration for the most callow of knights would have emulat-
knights of the court. Women, of course, ed him. Women were held high—much
were not transformed by chivalry: Only higher than they had been centuries be-
the idea of woman was sanctified. Women fore — but they were not lost in the clouds.
loved, married, gave birth, worked, hunt- They were sought after, fought over,
ed, laughed and cried just as they always loved and honored. And because in those
had, but that did not matter. For chival- times their honor reflected that of the men
rous knights, they were celestial ideals, who protected them, they cherished valor
imperious paragons to be worshipped and bestowed their smiles on the brave.
from afar and honored by great deeds. Thus Sir Erec found his bride while
zz? avenging the Queen's honor, as his own
honor demanded, and won Enide through
nsome courts, this attitude was carried a display of valor and skill. They married;
to absurd lengths, at least according to he retired with her to his own lands and
the troubadours. In the luxurious, sophis- there he remained for months in passion-
ticated palaces of Provence, public trials ate seclusion. He did not show himself at
were held by court ladies to judge the be- court; he did not seek adventure. Whis-
havior of their admirers. And in Germany pers began, and laughter, and at last
it was said that Ulrich, Count of Lichten- Enide herself warned Sir Erec that a hero's
stein, wore out his horse with traveling reputation faded like snowdrops if he
and his body with fighting in the service of abandoned himself to less demanding
a lady whom he loved. She responded ic- pleasures. If he would remain a hero, he
ily, refraining from comment on his victo- must ride out and seek adventure once
ries and sending his messengers on their again. And so he did.
way. She was told once that Ulrich had For the quest for adventure was essen-
lost a finger in a tournament, she made tial to King Arthur's knights. Trained to
no answer until she heard that in fact the battle, they were fully themselves only in
finger had merely received a cut. Then battle, when every skill was brought into
she sent a letter, savaging the knight for complete and violent play. They sought
what she called his lie. When a messenger perfection in bravery time and time again.
delivered this missive to Ulrich, he knelt They lived in a relatively peaceful age,
without hesitation—as he always did on however. The ceaseless petty wars that
receipt of her words — and ordered the mes- their ancestors had fought were no more.

82
 Che dream
of King Arthur
In the bright young years of his reign,
King Arthur once set out on a hunt,
during which he stopped to rest beside
aforest pool. Ashe slept, he dreamed
ofhorrors. Images of dragons swam in
his dream, of griffins and other terri-
ble creatures slaughtering his people
Worst of all was the Questing Beast,
a ghastly serpent whose nostrils
streamed noxious flame and whose
voice was that of baying hounds. The
creature drank from the clear water of
the pool and vanished into shadow
The King awoke much shaken. His
dream was a Stain spread across the
hopes of his heart. And so it was, as
Merlin the Enchanter advised him.
The Questing Beast was more than
a mere dream: It was the loathsome
spawn of a princess who had attempt-
ed to seduce her own brother and,
when he refused her, had had the man
eaten alive by dogs. Her punishment
was this offspring, which roamed the
world eternally, a perverse thing
formed by perverse wishes
And Arthur saw it because of per-
versity. Before he learned his moth-
ers name — for he was reared in secret,
far from her—he had lain with his
mother's daughter, his half sister,
Queen Morgause of Orkney. Mor-
gause bore him a son, who one day
would be England's downfall
Thus Merlin told the King, so that
through the glories of his life, Arthur
saw the shadow of the future. He him-
self had fathered the man who would
destroy all he had made

83
 King Arthur sought a queen fitfor a royal crown and found ber in Guinevere, daughter
of Leodegran of Cornwall. The dowry she brought was a magnificent one—one
hundred noble knights and the Round Table of Uther Pendragon.

The knights at court were never idle; there Those who stood on the western shores
were always the diversions of the hunt and of the island often saw—now appearing,
the formalized warfare of the tournament. now disappearing in the drifting mist of
But those were artifice, and thus it was the the Irish Sea—the crystal turrets of palaces
practice of Arthur's knights to ride out that graced the peaks of enchanted isles.
alone in search of adventure, to put them- Beyond a bend in a forest road he thought
selves at risk and burnish their valor. he knew, the questing knight might come
upon a watchtower, its windows empty as
dead men's eyes; he might call a challenge,
knight would be absent, some- but the only answer he would get would be
times for years. And then one day the rustling of the ivy as it stirred against
his tattered standard would appear on the the crumbling stones and the creaking of
plain below the fortress at Camelot. His his saddle as his horse shifted anxiously
comrades on the battlements would see his under him. In the silence he would have a
battered form, as Gawain once was seen sense of ears that listened and eyes that
returning from a quest. In the words of the watched, of elder intelligences quietly
chronicler: “The knight sat on a tall horse, observing. Then he would have to
lean and bony. His hauberk was all rusty enter the tower and face whatever
and his shield pierced in a dozen places lurked within and, with the wit
and its color so fretted away that none of his brain and the strength
could recognize the device thereon. Anda and swiftness of his arm,
right thick spear he bore in his hand." prove his right to knighthood.
He had found and won his battles and Tests of this sort came upon
so could rest, for a time. And battles were the knight unawares; he had
easy to find. England was at peace, it only to ride out into the still-
was true, but the age was one of wonders, uncharted forests and cross a
and the farther reaches of the island were border he could not see to find
thronged with mysteries. In the mountains himself pitted against the name-
to the north lived giants—huge, coarse less forces of the other world.
cannibals. And where there. was water in But also waiting, eternal-
that well-watered land, there were the peo- ly vigilant, were enchant-
ple of Faerie, enchanting and powerful, ca- resses, dark counter-
pricious and full of danger. In the depths parts of the ladies of
of the forests that covered most of Eng- Arthur's court, and
land, curiously wrought fountains were to their names were
be found, and their guardians were not well known. Many
mortal. Hidden beneath the still surfaces knights, even Arthur
of mountain lakes were shimmering pal- himself, had suc-
aces and flowering fields, where knights cumbed to their magic
could be trapped to languish forever. at one time or another.

84
These dark ladies were as elusive as the unknowing—perhaps because of a spell
play of light on water. They were both she cast, although this is not certain—and
good and bad, both desiring and detesting fatheredason, Mordred, who was to prove
mortals. Even their shapes were shifty: the kingdom's undoing. The other was
They could appear as crones or as women Morgan le Fay, who in some aspects ap-
of surpassing beauty —as they wished. peared as a malevolent hag and in some as
The most renowned of them were the the most seductive of maidens. It was said
estranged half sisters of Arthur, daughters that she created an enchanted valley, rich-
of his mother, Igraine, by her first hus- ly green, watered by a spring that sparkled
band. One was Morgause, Queen of Ork- like diamonds and surrounded by a wall
ney. In his youth, Arthur lay with her all of air. She lured knights into this valley,
 Ae

arses
ac

oo

¥
 Lancelot, the finest ofArthur's knights, was hidden in his youth among the fairies of
an underwater kingdom. When he attained the age of knighthood, the fairy Queen—the
Lady of the Lake—ended his enchanted schooling and escorted him to King Arthur.
88
 and they spent their days in pleasure, all took the infant away to safety in her king-
thoughts of war forgotten—a living death dom, like the heroes of the ages before
for a man of chivalry. It was also said that him, Lancelot was educated in the other
Morgan possessed the power of healing, world. And well educated, for the Lady
that she lived on the fairy isle of Avalon saw not only that he was trained in all the
with others of her kind and provided a ha- arts of war but also that he understood the
ven for the grievously wounded. obligations and duties of honor. When
The third in this triad of great enchant- the time came, and he was ready, she her-
resses was known simply as the Lady of the self presented him to Arthur at Camelot
Lake, and she was the most mysterious of and signified that he should be knighted
all. Some chroniclers wrote that she was a So the young man appeared in Arthur's
fairy who lived on a crystal mountain be- great hall with the fairy shimmering almost
neath the sea, a place where it was always invisible beside him. He was the King’s
the month of May. Most, however, wrote second finely tempered weapon from the
that her land could be seen under the sur- Lady of the Lake, a living Excalibur. Tall
face of a certain mountain lake whose and strongly made, every inch a king's
name has been lost. It was said that her son, he pledged his life and honor to Ar-
castle's turrets glimmered like pearls deep thur and his sword to the King’s defense. It
within the lake, their pennants waving was Queen Guinevere who buckled on the
lightly in the currents, as if in the gentlest sword, the poets wrote that when she had
of breezes. Or the waters may have been an fastened the belt, she raised her eyes to
illusion created by the Lady herself to bar Lancelot with a smile of such blinding
mortal intruders. Treasures— magic rings sweetness that the young knight's heart
and cloaks of invisibility —were hidden in contracted with longing. In one instant,
her nacreous palaces, Arthur's sword, Ex- he gave all the love of his generous nature
calibur, came from her. It was said that she forever into Guinevere's keeping.
sometimes imprisoned mortals, but most
of her actions—capricious and cloaked in
mystery as they were — were beneficent. It oung though he was—and shy, for
was she who protected Lancelot, at once he had not lived much among men—
the finest and most tragic of Arthur's he- he was well schooled in courtesy. Not
roes, the knight who summed up the great- a sign escaped him then or for many
est joys and sorrows of chivalry. months. He slipped easily into the cama-
Lancelot was born in western France, in raderie of Arthur's band of knights; he was
Benwic, which some say later became openhearted and merry, frank and kind,
Beaune and some Bayonne. He was a and his companions grew to love him. And
_ King's son, but Ban, his father, was killed respect him: He had no match among
in battle when the child Lancelot was no them as a fighter, and this was proved on
more than a year old. In the confusion of the jousting field, where he bested them
that dangerous time, the Lady of the Lake all, more than once.

89
 A knight caught
in enchantment’s coils
Reared by one enchantress, Lancelot
was captured by another, and she was
no less than the mighty Morgan le
Fay. It happened one day on his trav-
els, when the knight tethered his horse
by a meadow so that he might lie down
under an apple tree to sleep
Four Queens of Faerie with their
courtiers rode that way, for Lancelot
had unwittingly chosen to rest in their
realm. They were the Queen of North-
gales, the Queen of Eastland, the
Queen of the Out Isles and Morgan le
Fay. When they saw the sleeping
knight, they reined in and at once fell
to quarreling — most unattractively —
over who should take him for a lover
“Let him choose for himself" said
Morgan le Fay, to stop the argument
And by a spell, she spirited Lancelot
to a prison in her castle
He awoke hours later to find him-
self confronted by the four Queens
Morgan was brisk and quite to the
point: "You are Lancelot du Lac, King
Ban's son," she said. “You love Queen
Guinevere, but I assure you, you are
lost to her forever. You now may
choose one of us for a lover. And
you must choose.”
“I will not choose. | desire none of
you,” he said firmly‘and turned his
back. There was a tense silence
“Then rot in this cell forever,”
snapped Morgan, and the would-be
mistresses swept from the room
Indeed, Lancelot languished for
days in his prison, for binding spells
sealed the ways of escape. He required
other aid against enchantment
It came in the form of the lady in
waiting who brought him his meals
Lancelot treated her with such courte-
sy and his chivalry was so renowned
that the maiden trusted him. At last
one night, she led him from his prison
and gave him his freedom
Andas for the lustful Morgan, her
failure was but one of several in her
pursuit of Lancelot. She tried again to
trick him into herarms, but her magic
never was a match for the knight's fi-
delity to his Queen

90
91
 After the tournaments, there was feast- prisoners. He slew the knights who guard-
ing in the hall. Lancelot watched the ed the place, including one who was the
Queen when he could, to see the firelight paramour of the enchantress herself, Lan-
glint on her golden hair, or to catch the celot cut off the man's head and presented
smile that brightened her dark eyes, but he it to Morgan, thereby freeing her captives.
did not approach her, except as courtesy It was known that the spell on Morgan's
demanded. He therefore never saw how valley could be broken only by the valor-
her eyes rested on him and shone to see his ous, that was the condition of adventure,
easy grace and gentleness. and victory was the proof of worth. Yet
Tournaments and feasting wearied victory was not necessarily victory at
young knights after a while, however. arms. Sometimes it was attained by wit or
When April came, green and showery, cunning or simply by courage. And in the
they began to leave the fortress, riding fragmented tale of Lancelot's adventures —
past the great gates, through the rye and the record of a man going he knew not
barley fields that surrounded the castle, where and seeking he knew not what, ex-
into the deep woods that lay beyond. In cept to prove himself—two incidents
pairs and singly they left to seek adven- served to show his qualities. The truth of
ture —Gawain and Gaheris, Kay and Bede- where these incidents happened and when
vere, Bors and Arthur himself. Lancelot, has been lost; they simply record two
too, rode off to test his courage. He left things that befell the knight on his jour-
the gate with a last look at the waiting ney. The first adventure was this:
Queen that told more than he knew. Lancelot came to a wood where the way
was lost. His path wound through shad-
ows, tree branches clutched at him. No
uring the months that followed, birds sang, and fora while, he heard noth-
tales of Lancelot's deeds drifted ing but the jingling of his horse's harness
back to Camelot, carried by the warriors bells and the measured fall of its hoofs on
tiredly returning, by itinerant friars, by the forest floor. At length, however, he
wandering bards. They spoke of bloody caught the sound of music among the
battles and daring rescues: For the release leaves—of shawms and lutes and drums.
of two of Arthur's knights, held captive in He pressed forward and found himself in a
acastle, Lancelot had fought a sinister lord clearing. A tower stood there, and on the
called Turquin, meeting him in a jousting flower-dotted grass before it, lords and la-
charge so fierce that both men’s horses’ dies danced in a ring. They were brightly
backs were broken. While the animals lay dressed in the high, pointed headdresses
dying, the swordplay went on for hours, and gaily striped hose of a rich court, but
until Lancelot beheaded Turquin. In their faces were white and strained and
Cornwall, it was said, Lancelot killed two their eyes blank as they danced in compul-
giants. And he found Morgan le Fay’s en- sive, endless, elegant rotation.
chanted valley with its tribe of languorous Near them, on the grass, stood a chess-

32
 board, and the gold and silver pieces on it sions of battle and ceased to notice the
moved as gracefully as the dancers, al- music or the dancers. He observed the sil-
though no hand touched them. Lancelot ver queen, looming protectively beside
dismounted and observed for some mo- her little king. Her eyes were watchful; her
ments the movement of the chessmen. chessmen rotated on their squares—in her
A hand touched his wrist gently and he direction and back again—before each
looked down. Beside him stood a dwarf. move was made. She gave no audible or-
ders, but she clearly was the leader of that
army, and recognizing his opponent, Lan-
his is the rule,” said the dwarf. “If a celot began to enjoy himself. His golden
knight plays one side to victory, chessmen quivered, restless as blood
the prisoners will be released. But only he horses, but they obeyed his movements.
who is the best knight in the world can win Thrusting into the fray too fast, he lost
the game.” He gave a grating laugh and an a pawn to the silver queen. The piece
awkward bow and disappeared. hopped disconsolately to the side. Lance-
Lancelot did not know the captive lot paused to consider. The silver queen,
dancers; he understood only that they he noticed, was a daring but unimag-
were prisoners. His honor demanded that inative leader, spendthrift of her pawn in-
he make the effort to release them, not bya fantry, protective of her knights and care-
trial at arms but by one of wit. If he lost, he less of her own safety. Lancelot began a
would lose the greatest name a knight flanking action with a bishop anda knight.
could desire —that of the best. In five moves, he captured the queen.
He studied the board with some misgiv- She retired from the board with dignity,
ing. He could play the noble game —as any while the other silver pieces turned on
courtier could —but his skill lay in real war- their squares to see her go. But her eyes at
fare, not shadow battles. As he watched, the board's edge were watchful as ever.
the pieces slid smoothly into gold and sil- “You can no longer lead them,” said
ver rows: Behind single ranks of pawns, Lancelot to the silver queen. To his aston-
the rooks, knights, bishops, queens and ishment, she winked at him, as if fairly
kings glanced at one another and then caught, and closed her eyes.
stood motionless, waiting for his move. After that, his task was easy, for the ac-
With a sigh, Lancelot pushed a golden tion of the silver pieces grew progressively
pawn two squares forward into the file: more confused. Pawns clustered anxiously
king's pawn to king four. The rank of silver at the center of the fray. A rook moved out
pawns opposite rippled and answered him of turn—and on the diagonal, as if it were a
in kind. The silver king's pawn hopped bishop — before it caught itself and retreat-
neatly to its own king four. At Lancelot's ed in disorder. The knights tried to ad-
' back, heedless of the game, the mortal vance together and collided. They picked
dancers trod their formal pattern. themselves up and returned to position.
Lancelot was soon caught up in the ten- It was over some minutes later. “Check,”

93
 said Lancelot, moving a golden pawn. His "Yield, recreants,” said Sir Lancelot,
own queen glared proudly down the file at grinning. With a metallic click, the silver
the silver king. king toppled over.
There was a pause while the silver pieces Lancelot straightened himself. There
surveyed their hopeless position. No was silence in the little clearing. The music
move could save the silver king for long. had stopped, and the dancers, too, had

Che lily maid of Astolat

Many a maiden adored Sir Lancelot,
but his heart had been pledged to
Queen Guinevere from the moment
he joined King Arthur's company at
Camelot. So the maidens sighed in
vain; most gave up the chase. Only
one ever matched with her affection
the perfect, tragic exclusivity of Lan-
celot's passion for the Queen
That woman was Elaine of Astolat,
the fair, the lovable, the lily maid
When she first saw Lancelot, from the
tower of her father's castle, she did not
even know who he was. He was riding
in disguise to test his valor without the
support of his formidable reputation
Elaine's father gave him shelter
for the
night, as was the custom in those
courteous days; Elaine sat by him in
her father's hall. And when she found
that he intended to fight in a tourney
held each year at Camelot, she asked
whether he would wear her favor
This wasan expected courtesy, for
knights often rode into battle wearing
ribbons or silks from the ladies they
loved. Lancelot never did: He could
not wear Guinevere's favor and he
would wear no other. He refused
Elaine's request, but when he saw her
stricken look, he relented. A
favor, af-
ter all, would add to his disguise. But
Elaine took the gesture seriously
So Lancelot rode onto the jousting
field bearing a white shield and wear-
ing Elaine's scarlet sleeve, embroi-
dered with pearls. He was not recog-
nized. Heunseated forty knights that
day and was himself wounded by a
spear. He rode back to Elaine with his
injury. She nursed him lovingly for
months, and when he was hail again,
she asked to marry him
He told her, as gently as he could,
that he would never marry. She of-
fered to become his paramour
Appalled, Lancelot said that his
heart was given elsewhere and re-
turned alone to Camelot
And Elaine simply wasted and died
for love. Her deathbed, at her request,
was a barge set in a river to drift to
Camelot. It was Lancelot who found
her and he who sadly buried her

94
stopped. Color returned to their faces and entrapped. Lancelot turned and mounted
intelligence to their eyes. They bowed to and set off once more.
Lancelot where he stood, the best knight The next adventure, or the next, or the
in the world, and faded back among the next —the chronology was often unclear—
trees, returning freely to whatever land was this: Lancelot came to a gate by the
had sheltered them before they had been road and found a maiden. He saluted her,
and she, weeping, told him her tale. She
begged his aid for her brother's sake: The
young man had slain a knight called Gil-
bert in fair combat and had been wounded
himself. Now Sir Gilbert lay dead in a
chapel beyond the gate, but his widow had
placed a curse on the victor: The young
man’s injuries would not heal unless a
knight was brave enough to take Sir Gil-
bert's sword and touch the wounds with it
and cut a strip of the dead man’s clothing
and bind the wounds with it.
Lancelot smiled at the maiden. He dis-
mounted, leaving his horse by the gate,
and strode to the chapel.
The small stone building stood alone
among the trees. The task seemed easy
enough, until Lancelot saw what guarded
the building. Thirty knights in black ar-
mor stood leaning on their spears beside
the chapel wall. They were motionless.
Their heads turned, however, toward the
sound of Lancelot's footsteps, and with a
frightening mechanical gait they began to
walk toward him, eyes glinting red and
teeth glittering white in mouths that
stretched in insane, blank smiles. A fearful
sweet stench surrounded them.
Sweat prickled on Lancelot's neck and
ugly fear coiled in his belly. He put up his
shield and walked toward the chapel door,
while the silent creatures crowded close.
Shouldering them aside, he entered. He
found the corpse and pulled its sword

95
 from the scabbard and a strip of silk from moistened her red lips with a sharp little
its tunic, and as he did so, the ground tongue, and her green eyes shone at him.
beneath him trembled. “Come to me now, and kiss me.”
He turned. The silent knights stood But Lancelot's heart was given to Guine-
within the chapel, a mass of darkness vere. He shook his head once more.
blocking the door. The dead man's sword When he did so, the woman seemed to
in hand, he set his jaw and walked directly fade; her image wavered in the air. “I have
toward them. And when he was close, they loved you long,” she told him. “I know
shuffled aside to let him pass. They spoke where your heart tends. But | could have
then, in toneless chorus. had your body by me, had your heart
“Put down that sword, Sir Lancelot. stopped its beating. | could enjoy you
Leave it, or you will die.” dead as well as alive. " She was the sorceress
But Lancelot stood now in the light of Hellawes, one of Morgan le Fay’s kind, a
the sun, safe outside the perilous cha- death-bringer and a lover of death. Lance-

pel. He shook his head and then he stared. lot's courage and his steadfast heart defeat-
A young woman, black-haired, green- ed her, and it is said that she died soon
eyed, red-lipped and smiling, stood in the after he left to heal the young knight's
yard. She wore the weeds of a widow. wounds with her own husband's sword.
“Lancelot, put down the sword,” she Such were the tales told in King Arthur's
said softly. “If you take it, you will not hall. For in the autumn, when the days
leave this place alive.” grew short and the evenings chill, those
"I will not do it," he replied. knights who survived their testing in the
She clasped her hands to her breast then wilderness came back to Camelot one by
and gave a smile of great relief. one, lean and brown, battered and weary.
“Had you done as | asked, then truly On long winter nights, when the fires
you would have died," she said. blazed bright and the snow blew outside,
"Then | should have been a fool to obey they rested and told tales of adventures,
you,” responded the knight. and the man they named most often was
“True enough, my chevalier.” She Lancelot, the flower of them all.

The valiant knew death awaited and they faced it with

calm: On a journey once, Lancelot found bis own tomb, marked with his
name, but still went on to seek adventure.
96
 He was the King’s champion—and the Queen. The tale of the abduction was a
Queen's. He offered his fealty to Guine- convoluted one, but the main events were
vere, and all knew he was the Queen's these: A Prince named Meleagant, who in
knight. This was, of course, an established various battles had taken a number of Ar-
custom ina chivalric court, with its formal thur's knights hostage, demanded the
patterns of devotion and its elaborate Queen in place of them because he had a
courtesies. Great ladies always had cheva- passion for her. Guinevere bravely jour-
liers, whose attitude was that of selfless neyed to his country, the kingdom of
and unrequited love and whose reward was Gorre. It was commonly said of the place
no more than a smile from the beloved. that no one who went there ever returned
The King viewed the proceedings with In any event, Lancelot set out after
kindly amusement: Lancelot was as a son the Queen, riding hard until he came to
to Arthur, and the champion's honoring of the borderlands. There he fought sever-
the Queen honored the King as well. al knights—outriders, possibly, of Melea-
ee Prenat BS hen eR

But Lancelot's love for the Queen was gant. Little is known of the battle, since all
no ritual expression of courtly behavior. that was found were dead horses, lying on
When only at the beginning of manhood, the ground, their bright caparisons dark
he had given her his whole heart, and his with blood. Lancelot's was among them.
was a steadfast nature. He showed his fi- He himself was not there. He had
delity for all to see. There were no half- pressed on toward Gorre in pursuit of
secret dalliances with serving maids or Guinevere. But he traveled in an odd and
ladies of the court, as might have been unbecoming way. An armed and armored
expected from so vigorous a young man. knight, already fatigued from battle, was
And a time arrived when Guinevere an- an awkward man, in no position to walk
swered Lancelot's affection and became his far. Lancelot found himself near one of the
mistress, although both knew the affair hamlets typical of the borderlands—a clus-
was a betrayal of the King and a stain on ter of thatched houses where scrawny hens
Lancelot's bright honor. scratched in unyielding dirt and listless
It happened after the abduction of the children stared at him blankly. There were

Lancelot once broke a spell and freed the prisoners it bound by winning
at chess against a magical opponent. Some said that be then
took the enchanted chessboard to Queen Guinevere as a battle trophy.
ay
 several mules, but a mule is a small beast The river was black and swift; the trees
and lacks the strength to carry a knight. overhanging its banks were bare and dead.
In the dirt track that formed the village "Bridge, " said the dwarf with a
jerk of his
street, however, stood a wooden cart, har- head and an ugly, derisive grimace.
nessed to a nag and driven by a dwarf. The There was a bridge, a single gleaming
driver looked at Lancelot with the sliding, span wedged between tree trunks on either
sideways glance of his kind, smirked and side of the water. It was a gigantic sword,
said, “Get in, knight. I will take you to narrow as a ribbon, cutting edge up. On
Gorre, where you will find your Queen." the far bank, among the trees, was a squat
Lancelot hesitated. Carts were for crimi- tower—the prison that held the Queen.
nals bound for the stocks or the heads- On hands and knees, Lancelot crossed
man’s block. Misshapen outcasts like the sword bridge. His legs were protected
dwarfs drove them, only the vilest ever by his greaves, but his palms split open

rode in them. Lancelot was a proud young with his weight on the blade, and blood
man and he did not care to look like a fool. dripped down into the water below. Stol-
But he had no choice, it seemed. He idly, he crawled into the land of Gorre.
climbed into the cart. The dwarf flicked Meleagant was waiting for him; so was
his whip, and the unlikely conveyance set the Queen in the tower. The rules of chi-
off. The children crowed and jeered. valry held: While Guinevere watched, her
They traveled for a day, through ham- champion battled her captor and brought
lets as mean as the first, where poor crea- Meleagant to his knees. He was forced to
tures came running to jeer and point at guarantee Guinevere's safety while she re-
the knight hunched uncomfortably in the mained in Gorre and to give her into the
creaking cart. At each new settlement, the care of Lancelot for the journey home.
inhabitants gathered in the road, to howl But when Lancelot went to the Queen
with laughter at the sight. afterward, she turned away imperiously. It
At last, however, the cart halted at the was said that—still pursuing the courtly
verge of a river. “Here,” said the dwarf nonsense of the time — she was angered be-
briefly. Lancelot climbed out of the cart. cause she had heard of his hesitation in

To save Queen Guinevere—bostage ofan evil Prince—Sir Lancelot cast

aside his knightly dignity: Unborsed in battle, be
followed after ber with the only means be found at band, a criminal's cart.
98
mounting the dwarf's cart; he had put his Arthur's court had deteriorated with the
pride before her safety. At any rate, they years; it was becoming a place of faction
quarreled, and those nearby saw Lancelot and intrigue. The source of much of this
stride grimly off into the forests of Gorre. was Mordred, Arthur's son by his sister
Word soon came to Guinevere that Morgause. Mordred was a secret, smiling
Lancelot had been slain, and then Guine- villain nurtured by hatred. When the
vere knew her heart indeed. When he re- young Arthur discovered that he had lain
turned to her tower to take her home, she with his sister and what the issue was—
summoned him in secret to her chamber, Mordred, born on May Day—he had had
and from that time on, they were lovers. all infants born on that day in Britain gath-
The adventure had a happy ending: ered together and put into a boat, to be
Lancelot returned the Queen to the King brought to him, for what end none could
at Camelot in safety. But it was a sad be- tell. The boat had foundered; only the in-

ginning, for the Queen and her champion fant Mordred, washed ashore while still
could not bear to be long apart. They were alive, had survived. Mordred thought—
discreet, but the change showed. In place perhaps rightly— that his father had sought
of veneration on the one side and gracious to kill him. And though Arthur had no
acknowledgment on the other, Lancelot legitimate children, Mordred's bastardy
and Guinevere showed the signs common barred him from the throne. At court,
among illicit lovers: secret smiles and Mordred served his father with apparent
whispered conversations, sudden angers devotion, and sowed the seeds of dissen-
and jealousies--quickly over—hands that sion where he could. He gathered around
brushed together as if by accident, eyes him a group of young, dissatisfied
that held a glance too long. The King knights, and he watched Lancelot and
seemed oblivious, but the courtiers saw, Guinevere avidly. When he became sure
and some of them bided their time, know- of what he suspected, Mordred would act
ing that the information would be useful. and the end would be the destruction of
The splendid closeness and honor of Camelot and all it had embodied. GS

To enter the land of Gorre, where his Queen was held prisoner,
Lancelot had to cross a bridge that was a sword. He made the crossing
balancing with his bands, at the cost offearsome wounds.
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bodies hung an ivory horn. From a tower of the castle the fairest of
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prisoned sister of his guide. Gareth blew the ivory horn and the defender
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An adventure that ended in great sadness for Sir Gawain began at King
Arthur's wedding feast, when an enchanted white hart bounded into the
King's hall. Tormented by court hounds, the small deer fled, and at
Merlin's bidding, Sir Gawain gave chase.
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He pursued the deer to a distant castle and in his excitement he let his
hounds kill it. But the deer belonged to a knight called Blamoure, and this
knight killed the dogs for revenge. Then, raging, Gawain battled him and <V/ i
brought him to his knees. Blamoure cried mercy, but Gawain raised his
sword for the kill—and slew an innocent. Blamoure's lady took the death
blow. Gawain carried the shame in his heart for the rest of his life:
Ignoring a cry for mercy, he had done murder.

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_—— Se ee
 F OuestofAil
en Arthur tuled over swords, and he that smote the Dolorous Stroke.
te tract~ the island A cairn of pebbles rose behind the
stone, and over the tableau, silently pre-
serving its secrets, reared the decayed for-
tifications of a castle.
‘The bones that were sheltered in the
beech, the carpets of bluebell and veined tomb were those of one of Arthur's
anemone disappeared, instead of mead- knights, who decades before had been sent
ows where dog rose clambered over hedge- into exile. A skilled and fearless warrior
_ tows and clumps of golden kingcup shone from the wilds of Northumberland, Balin |
instream beds, instead of the birds’ chatter was aptly named the Savage: He had an |
_and the oes of deer, there was stark insane temper, and when the fury was
~ desolation. Sand flats, rock heaps, stone upon him, he was murderous. He had
: and rubble sprawled over a waterless plain once been imprisoned for killing a cousin
: rimmed by bleak gray mountai of the King’s. Shortly after his release |
-Aman might walk for days over the
blasted ground and see no evidence of life,
save for a vulture perched on the black-
he killed a sorceress who had uttered
threats against him, and it was for this act
that he was sent away.
|
|
ened limb of a leafless tree. There were He left doubly cursed. The sword he |
habitations, it is true, but these were thin- carried was not the one he had been given |
__ ly spread over the arid expanses, and they when he was knighted. It was one that he |
presented a hard, gaunt aspect at one with had taken from a fairy woman, and she had
__ the scenery around them. This region was laid a fate upon it. Her sword, she said,
called the Waste Land. would slay the man Balin loved best. And
__Ina broad brown valley there, a granite the fairy's weapon bore a second, even
__ island rose from a parched lake bed. At the harsher sentence. The enchanter Merlin
. island's center stood a stone slab on which had seen something in the steel, and when
was incised, in letters now partly erased by Balin left the court, Merlin made the
ae ove dust, this eptaph: ae lieth young knight a prophecy.
“The man who bears that sword will

109
 : m \

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* ay bi strike the Dolorous Stroke, though not whistling; before he could turn in the sad-
oY Mem I with the sword itself,” said the wizard dle, a spear hurtled through the air and,
Mi gravely. “He will bring drought and fam- with an awful thud, pierced the breast of
ine to the earth.” Sir Herlews. The knight's horse shied.
Herlews clutched his chest, and blood
spilled out over his fingers.
| Bb.Balin, mounted and eager to put “Garlon has killed me," Herlews said.
4 his shame behind him, shrugged "You will not find him here. He has the
impatiently and spurred his horse and left gift of invisibility. Follow my lady to
the gates of Arthur's fortress, riding alone him." And he died.
into the world. He bore a shield with no They left him in the meadow, stretched
device, for he did not care to be recog- out in seemly fashion with his sword in his
nized. He did not look behind him. hands. Urged by the weeping woman, Ba-
For some months Balin traveled with his lin rode on, swearing vengeance in his fel-
brother Balan, who came loyally from low knight's name.
Northumberland to meet him. The pair They came to a forest and in it overtook
had fine, free action before Balan left on a solitary knight, whose name was Perin de
adventures of his own. The enemies they Mountbeliard. As they paused to speak,
defeated— petty, overweening kings who however, death came again. Without a
sought to disrupt Arthur's peace, tyranni- warning hoofbeat or a rustle of crushed
cal barons who kept ugly court in secret leaves, a spear flew through the air. Sir
mountain fastnesses— trickled into Came- Perin fell, and the last word on his lips was
lot to pledge fealty to King Arthur, and Garlon's name. Frustrated, Balin searched
Balin’s star began to rise again. about him for an enemy who was not
Balin, however, was driven by forces he there. A blush of rage —which would have
could not fathom. Not by guilt: It was been familiar to his companions in Ar-
unlikely that such a man would feel re- thur's court —darkened Balin's face. His
morse for a murder he had done in hands began to tremble. But the lady only
thoughtless rage. Not by fear—although pressed him on, to a watchtower that rose
from time to time the fairy's curse and the near the forest track.
wizard's prophecy crossed his mind. His The men there sheltered the travelers
restless wandering went on; he was much and told them the tale. Balin was at the
alone in the northern reaches. border of the country of King Pellam, a
It happened one bright summer day good King whose lands prospered with
that he fell in with a knight called Herlews his goodness. In Pellam’s court, how-
le Berbeus, who rode with a young wom- ever, was a shadow~—the King’s brother
an, intent on some business of his lord's. Garlon, who roamed the borderlands, in-
The three rode along companionably for visible at will, slaying at random and for
some miles, chatting of this and that in the pleasure. It was the way of a coward, the
way of travelers. Then Balin heard a high action of a murderer.

110
 In the morning Balin set off for King then. Howling the names of Herlews and
Pellam’s land. Perin, Balin drew his enchanted sword and
The road to Castle Carbonek, Pellam’s swung it in a vicious arc. The gleaming
seat, rose steeply between two rounded blade bit through Garlon’s skull and cleft
mountains. From the crest of the pass down to his shoulders. The hideous form
could be seen a broad green valley, slumped gushing and twitching onto the
hemmed by steep hills and quartered by flagstones of the floor. What expression
orchards and well-tended fields. Straight could be discerned on the two halves of
ahead, rising sharply into the air, stood a the face was one of surprise.
vertical bulwark of rock half a mile wide. A moment no longer than a heartbeat
At its summit, reflected in the lake that passed. Then the courtiers shouted and
surrounded the rock, rose a castle, a ram- rushed toward the strange knight. King
bling edifice of ramparts and towers, sur- Pellam was at the fore, his sword flashing
mounted by the fluttering standards of to strike. But Balin parried the blow with
Pellam of Listinoise. his own dripping weapon, though the
The pair rode through the fields and force of the assault sent the sword spin-
orchards to the bridge that spanned the ning from his hand into the pool of blood
encircling water. Balin and the lady were forming at his feet.
taken to the King.
In the hall they found a company of
courtiers, colorful as wild flowers on a eaponless, Balin fled through
summer's day. Troubadours were there, the archway of the hall into the
and jesters, and servants bearing flagons. corridors of the unfamiliar castle, search-
Among them stood King Pellam, a tall ing for a means of defense—or escape. At
and kindly man, who welcomed Balin once, he found himself in a labyrinth of
and the lady and offered them the shelter twisting, torchlit passages. Balin ran up
of his roof. Balin made his bow, left the curving stairs and through dim corridors.
lady with the King and walked slowly The shouts of his pursuers echoed from
around the hall. the stones: He knewnot where they were —
“Who is Garlon?" he asked a serving or where he was. He came to a wall set
man. The servant pointed to a figure near with deep windows. He ran swiftly along
the hearth, a heavy-set man with trim the wall, and saw in flashes the changing
black hair and beard, who stood at his ease prospects of blue sky and heavy-laden
surveying the company. Balin stared trees that lay outside.
fixedly at him. Alerted, perhaps, by the At the end of the wall was a low arch,
intensity of the gaze, Garlon sauntered to- framing the first steps of a circular stair-
ward the stranger. case. He had reached a tower. He ducked
"Find a seat, bumpkin, and cease your through the archway and ran up the stair,
staring,” he said. spiraling dizzily as he followed its coils.
And Balin's rage came full upon him At the top of the stair was a door of
NO it

111
 apple wood, graven with strange images speed of a beast. He reached his hand into
Balin did not recognize. He paused. Save the shimmering light and seized the spear
for his heavy breathing, all was silent. from the air and struck at the King’s groin.
He heard no following footsteps, no clang He had an instant— only an instant—to
of swords, no angry shouts. A profound know what he had done. He felt a scorch-
and darkling silence settled around him, ing pain across his palm, where the spear
a thick and peaceful blanket of shad- had burned him; he heard a rumble and the
ow. Gone to ground, he thought. He howl of the wind; he saw in jittering
pushed the door silently open to reveal the flashes visions of a head bathed in blood,
room it guarded. of a spear splitting flesh. And last, Balin
The chamber was not large. Its walls saw the crumpling figure of the King,
were hung with black velvet embroidered where it wavered in the light. Then the
in gold, its floor was a mosaic of shimmer- darkness closed around him.
ing stones. The ceiling was vaulted and
painted a blue as deep as that of the eve-
ning sky; stars of gold winked among its e awakened slowly, to feel pebbles
arches. In the center of this grandeur stood crushed against his cheek and dirt
a table that bore an object Balin could in his dry mouth. He noticed without
not see, for the object was covered with a emotion that he was cold. He opened his
cloth whose white folds marked its shape. eyes and stared up at a gray sky.
Balin blinked. Hovering over the object, Balin moved his eyes painfully and saw
floating freely in the air, was a glowing towering rubbles of stone and scorched
spear, point down. Around the object, wood. Someone sat beside him: Merlin the
light shifted and trembled, as if silent Enchanter. The old man was silent, staring
harmonies played there, or as if some at the shattered landscape. Balin did not
mighty magic breathed. ask how Merlin had found him: The ways
Balin shied; this was a place of old, old of the wizard passed all understanding.
gods. Immense and unknown powers were “You have entered the web of your fate
sleeping here: It was as if the starry, shin- now, Balin,” said the Enchanter. “Un-
ing chamber were a sacred vessel that held thinking as an animal you took the cursed
the beating heart of the living world. The fairy sword, blindly you followed where
room was no place for mere mortals. anger led. You transgressed on the sacred
A footstep sounded loud on the stair elder powers when you invaded the sanc-
and Balin whirled around. Outlined in tuary of the Grail. The King lies maimed
the doorway, just outside the radiance in hisibroken house. And his land will suf-
of the room, stood a still, tall figure. It fer with him: No water flows here now, no
was King Pellam, who sheathed his sword plant will grow, no bird will sing. Only
and waited, motionless, regarding Balin a word will deliver the King, and you do
the transgressor. not have the word."
Trapped, the knight moved with the "What must | do?” asked Balin dully.

it?
 The Quest for the Grail came about because of the Dolorous Stroke: A hot-blooded
knight called Balin maimed the King of Listinoise with a sacred spear. By its power,
Listinoise became a wasteland that could be delivered only by the best knight in the world.

BEL FLINT McA:

“What you must,” Merlin answered. from him by King Pellarn. Balin found a
“Here is the sword, follow where it leads horse to carry him and rode out wearily to
~ until you come to the end." meet his fate. As he left Castle Carbonek,
So Balin rose obediently and buckled he turned and raised a hand to bid Merlin
on the fairy sword that had been struck farewell. But the wizard had vanished.

113
 The countryside around seemed to alter shield and rode in the direction that the
as Balin passed. A cold wind blew steadily lady had indicated.
at his back. In the orchards, blackened Balin found a field and on it his adver-
fruit covered the ground; yellow leaves sary, as anonymous behind the knight's
blew past him and rattled on the road. In visor as he himself was. They saluted brief-
the fields, the wheat stood unharvested, ly and set to battle.
and when he came close, he saw that the They followed the ritual of the tourney
stalks were sere and brown. Sometimes he in a businesslike way: first the jousting
saw dead rabbits and deer by the path, with lances, then the swordplay. They
their skin already rippling with the feeding were evenly matched; Balin found the turn
of maggots beneath. Sometimes he passed of thrust and parry was a pleasure. Then
farmhouses whose shutters flapped unat- his adversary dealt him a searing stroke to
tended in the wind. the shoulder. With the pain came Balin’s
After a while, Balin ceased to look old rage. He pressed forward fiercely, the
around; he kept his eyes on the road. He sword of Faerie leaping in his hand—and
was therefore startled when a loud voice was fiercely met.
hailed him. An old man stepped from the The battle went on for hours, but at last
scrub and angrily ordered him back. But the stranger's sword entered Balin’s throat.
behind the old man were heart-lifting Balin replied with a vicious thrust up-
green trees and behind the trees, white ward into the man’s breast. Then Balin fell,
towers. He had come to the border of Pel- his lifeblood bubbling in his mouth. He
lam's domain, it seemed. Would he be al- pulled his helmet off and spat; the stranger
lowed to pass out of the kingdom? knight lay near him, his hauberk split, his
He spurred the horse past the old man blood pulsing out. The man’s helmet con-
and into the sun-dappled wood. In the cealed his face.
distance a hunter's horn blew the kill, “Brave knight, let me know your name.
and Balin thought briefly of his boyhood | have never met my match before.” Balin
hunts in the forests of Northumberland. said, and waited, fighting death off for the
answer that must come.
“lam Balan of Northumberland. I am
eyond the wood, hard by a shining brother to King Arthur's knight Balin le
river, stood a castle, ablaze with Savage.”
banners. On its ramparts people smiled The strife was over, the pattern com-
and beckoned. A lady called down to him. plete. Balin had killed the man he loved
“Join us when you have jousted for us," best in the world. It was said that Merlin
she said merrily. “Our champion is the appeared then. He took the sword of Faer-
Knight of the River." ie and embedded it to the hilt in a block of
It seemed a curious greeting indeed for red marble and hid it by enchantment.
a man so obviously weary, but Balin Merlin had the brothers buried together,
donned his helmet, put up his blackened under the stone that told Balin’s tale in

114
 lapidary letters: Balin had struck the Do- been stolen from the sun, and of a spear
lorous Stroke that violated the power of that brought fertility even to sun-baked
the Grail and injured King Pellam, and earth. In Classical Greece, it was said that
brought waste to Pellam's land. a divine cup held all the elements of life;
As the tomb was made, the leaves the cup was the font of newborn souls. In
around the castle withered and fell; the Ireland there were tales of the treasures
grass browned, the river sank to mud and of the Tuatha Dé Danaan, a race of war-
then to cracked earth. The people disap- riors that had invaded the island before the
peared as the Waste Land embraced their time of humankind, bringing a caldron
kingdom, and soon cold winds whined that eternally provided food, and a spear
through their empty, crumbling halls. that no enemy could survive.
Legends abounded. All of them linked
the Grail with fertility and sustenance and
hus, according to the chroniclers, safety. None agreed in other regards, not
began the greatest venture of the even as to what the Grail was. Some said a
company of the Round Table, the last be- cup, some a caldron, some a dish, some a
fore the shadows closed around that val- stone, some an emerald that had fallen
iant brotherhood. Word came drifting from heaven. Some said it appeared in dif-
back to Camelot—brought perhaps by ferent forms at different times.
Merlin and perhaps by wayfarers — that The Christians, as their religion spread,
somewhere in Britain was an ancient king- gave the Grail their own definition. They
dom, laid waste because its King had been said that the spear Balin had seized was
wounded. This was not unusual then: In the very same spear that had pierced
many old countries, ruler and land were Christ's side when he was crucified on the
bound in profound union, so that the fer- Cross; the Grail, they claimed, was a gold-
tility of the land depended on the vigor of en chalice that had been used to catch his
the King. But the death of the country had blood. Both relics had been carried to Brit-
a second cause: Its blight came about be- ain by a soldier named Joseph of Arima-
cause the magical object that rested at its thea, who built a castle to shelter the talis-
heart had been desecrated. mans and passed the duty of guarding
And therein lay the mystery that has them down through the generations of his
baffled the inquisitive from that day to family to King Pellam.
this. What was the Grail? Whence came At the center, however, the matter of
its mystic power? the Grail remained a mystery far more an-
The Grail was a never-ending source of cient than Christianity. All that was really
abundance, and the lance that hovered known in King Arthur's time was this:
over it was a weapon of immeasurable Somewhere in Britain a land lay under a
strength. Such objects had been sung wasting enchantment, its King wounded
about since humans had words to sing. As and the talisman that shielded the king-
far away as India, sages told of fire that had dom damaged in some way. It was said that

115
 Escorted by an aged hermit, a young knight clothed in crimson appeared at
King Arthur's court to join the company of the Round Table. He was the son of Sir
Lancelot and of the Grail Maiden. He was invincible. His name was Galahad.
116
V7
 only the best knight in the world could en spear. From its tip, a rivulet of scar-
restore the fertility of the land and the let trickled. With the youth was a maiden
health of the King, and it was said that the of surpassing beauty, and in her long
deed would be accomplished with words, white hands she carried an object. Light
not with weapons, although the words quivered around her, brighter than the
were not known. One thing more became sun, but whatever it was she carried was
clear: The valiant knight would be a man hidden by a coverlet of white cloth.
of Pellam's own blood. Lancelot longed to see the object, but this
But all the rest was remarkably elusive. was to be denied him.
Even the Waste Land and Castle Carbonek It was a deep and moving magic, al-
appeared and disappeared in baffling fash- though Lancelot could not tell what mys-
ion for decades after Balin's venture. tery moved him. Tears welled in his eyes,
Knights might ride through the district and he turned to the King. But Pellam said
and see nothing but earth and stone. Or only, “She who bears the Grail is my
they might see King Pellam's palace ris- daughter." He signaled again. The proces-
ing from the ruins, where amoment before sion left the hall. The shimmering light
no palace had been. And those who en- faded, and the music died.
tered the castle's gates told later of myste-
rious adventure.
Lancelot, the most valiant knight in ut one thing more happened. Lan-
the world, came upon the castle in the celot stayed in the castle that night
course of a different quest. In the midst and fathered a son on Pellam’s daughter. It
of desolation, he found grandeur. He was was brought about by magic: Lancelot,
admitted to the ruined castle and taken to having given his heart and his honor to
the hall. It shone with splendor: Torches Arthur's Queen, desired no other wom-
flickered gold on the walls, jewels glinted an. During the night, a serving maid
in the hair of the court ladies, the fire came to him with a ring of Guinevere's
leaped red in the hearth. On the King’s and a summons, and so bemused was he
dais lay the pallet that bore the wounded by enchantment that he believed the
King. He greeted Lancelot courteously Queen to be nearby. Lancelot went with-
and spoke with him gently, and all the out question to the tryst. When he awoke
while he watched the knight with aged, in sunshine, however, he awoke beside the
compassionate eyes. Grail Maiden, King Pellam's daughter.
Then, witha wave of his hand, the King The ring had disappeared. Angered at the
showed wonders: At his sign, music rose trickery and grief-stricken by the act, Lan-
in the hall, although no musicians could celot left the castle.
be seen. A procession entered— maidens The result of this union made his ap-
bearing steaming goblets, pages carrying pearance years later at a time near mid-
platters heaped with gleaming fruit. summer, when flowers nodded in the gar-
Among them was a youth who bore a gold- dens of Camelot and nightingales sang

When the time was right, the Grail itself appeared for a brief moment at Camelot, swathed
in mystery. Inspired by its fleeting magic, the knights of the Round Table set off on the Quest
to find its true resting place. Their ladies armed them and wept to see them go.
118
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all the night through. An aged man re- mighty sword. On its jeweled hilt, in shin-
quested an audience with King Arthur ing letters, were engraved these words:
and was admitted. The old man entered, Never shall man take me hence, but only he by
a bent figure clothed in white wool. A whose side I ought to hang, and he shall be the best
youth—hardly more than a boy—entered knight in the world.
with him. The youth's face was that of Merlin turned to Lancelot, but the great
Lancelot, but it lacked the warmth of the knight shook his head. It was Galahad who
champion's: The blue eyes were cool, the stepped calmly forward and easily drew
mouth was set in an expressionless line. the sword from the stone. “That is Balin’s
Merlin moved to stand beside King Ar- sword," said Merlin. “It seeks redemption."
thur. Lancelot gazed upon his son, and So the company returned to the for-
then he turned his head away. tress, with Galahad among them. They
"This is Galahad," said the old man, and tested him, of course, in the days that fol-
bowing, he withdrew from the hall. lowed. Fighting was their genius. They
The company stirred; there were co- tested him in the jousting lists and on the
vert glances at Lancelot. Only Merlin the field, and with negligent ease he felled
Enchanter spoke. them all, as his father once had before him.
"We will have the tests," he said calmly. Only Lancelot refrained from trying the
skill of Galahad. In their love and courtesy
his companions of the Round Table made
erlin led the youth to the place no comment on this.
at the Round Table called the To Galahad, too, the knights had lit-
Siege Perilous, where no one but the best tle to say. He was an admirable fighter,
knight in the world might sit, on pain of fierce and skilled, but he was not one with
death by magic. Lancelot, called the best them. He kept himself distant from men,
of knights, had always refused the seat: He and he had no interest in women. He was
knew that his love for Queen Guinevere never seen to laugh.
was a stain on his honor, no matter how The chroniclers of later years made
bright his valor might shine. Without Galahad into a creature of remorseless and
hesitation, Lancelot's son took the place, unappealing purity, a plaster saint bathed
and all saw the letters that sprang like in a sea of sanctity, but the picture seems
flames from the wood: This is the Siege of Sir askew. He was conceived with the aid of
Galahad, the Haut Prince. old magic— whether that magic was King
"Follow me," said the Enchanter, and Pellam’s or another's is not known-—and
led the company out of the hall to the river was born for only one purpose: to re-
that sparkled below the ramparts of the store life to the Waste Land. In his veins
fortress. In the silence Merlin spoke, and flowed the blood of the best knight in the
no one recognized the words he used. On world. He was Lancelot without the stain.
the riverbank a stone of red marble ap- In his veins also flowed the blood of the
peared, and embedded in the stone was a_ daughter of the Grail King, and in those

After the last farewells were said, King Arthur's knights rode out, bearts high, and thus
the company of the Round Table began to disband as each man pursued his private quest.

iA
 Accompanied by bands of angels, young Sir Galabad journeyed through
dark forests and across deep seas to find the Waste Land and the Grail. And
triumph attended his adventures, for Galabad was the best knight in the world.

days, the matter of blood was paramount. It came one evening, toward the end of
Galahad had been trained for his pur- summer, when the companions of the
pose all his life by wise men at Castle Car- Round Table were feasting in Arthur's
bonek. Now he was ready to fulfill his pur- hall. Amid the laughter and the singing
pose and fulfill it in the manner of heroes. only Galahad was silent —but that was not
Before the eyes of the valiant, he had to unusual. He kept himself a little apart
prove his valor. Cold and humorless, he from the others and watched a dusky beam
sharpened his skill and waited for the sig- of late sunlight that streamed through
nal that would send him on his way. a narrow window, gilding the flagstones

122
 wilderness to prove themselves. Only
Galahad appeared unchanged, but he was
a very young man.
The knights fell silent. And in the air
above them, trembling just out of reach,
the Grail appeared, draped in white and
floating of its own accord.
In a moment, the talisman was gone,
but the air seemed incandescent still. And
words echoed in the memories of the men:
“He who would deliver the Waste Land
must journey through peril to find the
Grail Castle and ask the question. He who
asks will find an answer and he will be the
best knight in the world."
And the following day at dawn, the last
quest began. King Arthur watched pen-
sively as his knights—the pride of his
youth and the flowering of his earliest
dreams-—clattered out of the gate of his
fortress, their armor bright, their horses
gleaming. Guinevere wept.
The best left first. Gawain and Bors, Ec-
tor and Lionel and Lancelot. And Gala-
had. And Percival.
Percival was of particular interest, for
in his veins as well as in Galahad’s flowed
the blood of Pellam, the Grail King, and
Percival was one of the few on the Quest
who would see the Grail itself, for only
the finest of men ever got a glimpse of
and making rainbows from the jewels that the mystic object.
the knights wore on their belts. Percival, alas, was something of a fool.
The light grew stronger. It bathed the He became a mature and accomplished
faces of Arthur's companions, so that the knight, but he was always a young boy
deep creases in the flesh that betrayed in essence, acreature of wide-eyed, honest
. their weary years —and their growing, se- gullibility who never disbelieved anothers
cret animosities— seemed to vanish. They word, who obeyed everyone's advice and
looked like the young men they once had who never understood the meaning of
been, youths who had set out into the doubt or reflection.

123
 He was Pellam’s nephew, brought up decided without hesitation to strive for
by his mother in a forest, completely in- knighthood. He left his mother weeping
nocent of any knowledge of chivalry —or and set off with a short spear, a ridiculous-
indeed, of civilization. When he first ly ragged coat and a list of maternal rules,
encountered deer in the forest, he thought which he always obeyed. He was a literal,
they were goats that had lost their horns. likable fellow to the tips of his toes.
Percival chased the animals for miles,
caught them and penned them in his
mother's yard. His mother sighed for his e arrived at Camelot and within a
wits and marveled at his fleetness. He day fought his first man, a villain-
gaped at the first knights he saw riding ous knight who had entered the fortress
through the forest, thought they must be for purposes of theft and fled with a gold-
gods and, to their intense irritation, fell on en goblet. Percival killed him with the
his knees to worship them. small spear. Some moments later, he was
When he learned their real vocation, he discovered heaving the knight to his feet:
 Galabad at the
maidens’ castle
In the midst of his quest, Galahad
performed a brave and kindly deed
By the River Severn, he found a castle
where — for their private pleasure — sev-
en coarse and lecherous knights had
Percival wanted the man’s armor and had Grail. It took him months of traveling, but imprisoned a number of maidens. Sin-
glehanded and without taking a life
not the faintest idea how to remove it. He at last he arrived at the battered castle. He Galahad drove the villains into the
thought armor and body might be all of a hailed a guard and was admitted. wilderness and freed the women. He
gave the castle into the keeping of the
piece and planned to put the whole carcass As Lancelot before him, he was wel- highest-ranking maiden and, to en-
ona fire, in hopes that the steely carapace comed to the hall. As Lancelot had, he sure the women’s safety, summoned
all the warriors of the countryside
alone would survive the flames. spoke with the ailing King. He gaped at to pay her fealty
Arthur's companions took Percival into the courtiers. He gaped at the ceremony of Then Galahad went on his way. As
for the evil knights wandering the wil-
their company after that and attempted to the Grail Castle. When the page and maid- derness, they had the misfortune to
civilize him. And indeed, he became a bril- en, faces still with cosmic sorrow, bore in encounter Sir Gawain and his brother,
who slew them one and all
liant fighter. He even acquired a certain the bleeding spear and the Grail itself, he
veneer of knightly grace. stood like a stone. The talisman was un-
But he remained a man of sublime sim- covered. Its light surpassed the brightness
plicity, and perhaps because of this—and of the sun, yet a man could gaze upon it
of his blood and his bravery —he was one without dazzlement or harm, and when he
of the first of the Round Table to find the gazed he looked into eternity.
 The page and maiden left, bearing their The tales of the last quest are numerous
mysterious treasures away. Percival and could while away many evenings, yet
looked at the company around him. Each the story of the last quest of Arthur's
one of them regarded him steadily; each knights can be told in a trice:
one's eyes were bright with appeal. Perci- Most of the men fell out early in the
val opened his mouth to speak. chase, killed or wounded or—unlike Per-
He closed it again. He had been warned cival—frustrated by defeat. Gawain,
by King Arthur's knights and courtiers Bors, Ector, Lancelot, Lionel and Percival,
about boorish chattering and unseemly with the help of guides who appeared in
curiosity. The light shivered one moment their various paths, found their way to
longer, and then a sigh swept through the the fringes of the Waste Land. Lionel
room. Percival was led away to a bed- went mad, Ector turned back at the last.
chamber. As he passed by his hosts, the Gawain reached the Grail Castle, and Lan-
people turned their backs to him. celot rode with him, hoping that on this
He was dismayed, but being Percival, second venture he would glimpse the heart
he did not ask himself the reason. He re- of the mystery.
tired meekly to bed and fell instantly But Lancelot was flawed and did not
asleep, like the creature of clear con- see the Grail: Great though he was, his
science that he was. betrayal of King Arthur robbed him of this
When he awoke, he called fora servant. vision of the elder magic. The light that
None came. He walked out in search ofhis shone from the vessel left him uncon-
hosts, but the castle was empty. Morning scious. Gawain, bright and brave and
mist curled coldly through the broken gentlehearted, the most loyal of friends,
windows and lingered in the corridors. He the fiercest of enemies, saw what Lancelot
walked through the mist and out the gate was barred from seeing—the Grail itself
and across the moat to the water's edge, shining like the sun.
where he found his horse waiting. Percival He asked a question: He did not ask the
armed himself and mounted and looked at whole question, yet still he asked. “In the
the gate: It slammed shut, locking him out name of God," he said, when the Grail and
of the enchanted place. lance had passed from the room, “tell me
But he would find the Grail once more the meaning of these things."
when the time came. As for his compan-
ions, they scattered through Britain and,
in their efforts to reach the Waste Land, he Grail, ancient in itself was
braved the dangers that still lurked in the bound by some forgotten ritual;
forests and mountains of the island. The some ordering of words, long lost, con-
paths seemed to shift: The ways were trolled its antique powers. Only a man of
rocky and thronged with enemies such as perfect valor could speak the words, it
they had fought in their youth—knights seemed, and he had to find the perfect
without names, dragons and giants. words. Lancelot, on his first approach to

126
 For part of the Quest, brave Sir Gawain rode with Sir Ector de Maris, until, at a ruined
chapel in a wood, a vision offailure came to both men. Sir Ector bowed to fate and
turned for home. Sir Gawain, however, was more determined: Steadfastly, be journeyed on.

SHolOg
BORG.”as
GOES,

27
? ts ot
epaitt

Bhi
 Many knights died or failed the Grail Quest, but Lancelot's fate was the saddest:
He gained the Grail Castle, but bis flawed honor denied him the final truth, and he
was left outcast while his companion, Gawain, was permitted a glimpse of the Grail.

the magic vessel, had not spoken. Perhaps make the last venture of the Quest. All
the flaw in his honor restrained his tongue. three were fatigued and battered from
Percival had had a glimpse of the mystery. months of riding and from fighting the
Awe-stricken, he had not spoken. But Ga- dark creatures clustered in their track. The
wain spoke. And in the asking of that hon- knights were these: Sir Bors, the faithful;
est, simple question, he unwittingly inau- Sir Percival, shining with his peculiar in-
gurated the healing of the Waste Land. nocence,; and Galahad, cool and con-
King Pellam still lay sorely wounded, but trolled as ever, but bright-eyed now. The
when Lancelot and Gawain rode away, end he had beén formed for was in sight.
they saw that the dreaded expanses of In the inlet, bobbing on the waves,
rocky aridity had been washed by recent was a small boat with sails of silk, rigged
rain, they saw tiny green shoots of new and ready. Not one of the men knew how
plants straining up from the dusty earth. it was provided. They left their horses at
But others were coming to the Grail the shore and, without speaking, climbed
Castle then. Long leagues away, inan inlet into the vessel. The boat sailed itself;
where the gray tide washed the shores of and accepting of any adventure, as they
Britain, three of Arthur's knights met to had been trained, the three knights gave

130
 themselves obediently to its course. Then King Pellam lifted the Grail and
The boat took them to a rocky shore signaled to Galahad that he should look
some way up the coast, where parched into its depths.
trees and blowing sand told the men that Galahad peered down into the golden
they had found the place they sought. A hemisphere; sunlight glittered on his face.
day of patient walking brought them to A curious expression crossed it as he con-
the Grail Castle. The drawbridge across templated the depths of the Grail — of fear
the empty lake was down for them, and the and horror, of joy and power too great for
heavy gates were standing open. mortals. He died where he stood, and the
They entered together. They found King caught him as he fell.
King Pellam, and he made the signal that And over his bright head, the Grail
summoned the Grail, carried now by a King spoke to Sir Bors.
maiden that Galahad did not know. His "You are the messenger," he said. “Re-
mother was dead. turn to your King and tell him this: Tell
The eyes of the company were fixed on him that the Quest for the Grail is finished
the knights. Only Galahad spoke. and the land restored again. Tell him that
"What is the Grail and whom does it the greatest deeds are done and that a time
serve?” of endings follows swiftly."
He had found, it seemed, the exact and
ancient formula that called forth the power
of the Grail. Somewhere in the depths of nd Sir Bors obeyed the Grail
the building, a bell rang, cool and silver- King’s order. He alone returned to
sounding. In the silence that followed, the Camelot. He arrived on a winter's night,
company heard an unfamiliar sound: the while the wind howled around him, and
hissing of a steady rain. The old King nod- in the bright hall he found those of his
ded and signaled to Galahad, who took comrades who had survived the Quest—
the spear from the page who bore it and Lancelot and Gawain were there, with
dipped his own hand in the blood. He Bedevere, Gareth and Gaheris.
touched the King’s forehead with his When he had been fed and bathed and
bloody hand and stepped back. had warmed himself beside the fire, Sir
And the King rose to his feet again, Bors told the company the story of the
strong as in youth, a whole man now. He Grail. And when he had finished, he said
signaled to Galahad his grandson and to the words of the Grail King— that the time
Percival his nephew. of endings was coming.
To Percival he said, “You will guard the And that was true. The fall of Camelot
Grail now.” He took the Grail from the and that long, dark grief was almost upon
_ Grail Maiden and placed the maiden’s King Arthur. The King did not speak, but
hand in the knight's. he nodded sadly. When he had passed and
To Galahad he said, “Your quest is his kingdom had fallen, the glory of the
done and you shall have your answer." valiant would pass from the earth. gS

131
Che Great King's
Last Battle
The fellowship of the Round Table was un-
done on a fine day in May, when King Arthur
was old and tired and his court rife with se-
cret factions. The King and his champion,
Lancelot, had enemies in the court, and chief
among them was Mordred, Arthur's bastard
son. Mordred had four half brothers: Agra-
vain, as spiteful as Mordred himself, and Ga-
wain, Gaheris and Gareth, steadfastly faith-
ful to Lancelot and the King. When Mordred
and Agravain made their move, their broth-
ers flatly refused to join in it.
Mordred was determined to show that
Lancelot was the Queen's lover and thus a
traitor to his King. One night, therefore,
Mordred and Agravain—with twelve com-
panion knights—armed themselves and stole
up the winding stair that led to the Queen's
chamber. They pounded on the door. Lance-
lot answered. He was indeed with the
Queen—long his lover—and unarmed. But
the knights could not press their advantage,
crowded as they were on the shadowy stair.
Lancelot opened the door; he pulled the first
knight, who was Colgrevaunce, into the
chamber and slammed the door again. While
the Queen watched, he killed Colgrevaunce
with the man’s own sword. Then, in Colegre-
vaunce's armor, he hacked his way down the
stair, slaughtering all the conspirators except
Mordred the talebearer, who fled.
Through the treachery of Mordred, King Arthur's bastard son, Queen
Guinevere was doomed to die by fire, it was Sir Lancelot who rescued her

5
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Lancelot and his supporters retreated to

his own fortress, Joyous Garde. Mordred
went to the King with his story. And Arthur,
trapped by the law he himself had made, con-
demned his wife Guinevere to burn for her
infidelity, although it grieved him and his
own knights bitterly protested.
ut in the gray dawn of the execution
morning, when Guinevere was bound
to the stake, Lancelot and his men
charged through the throng to rescue
the Queen. In the fight to reach her, Lancelot
struck out blindly and, all unknowing, killed
Gareth and Gaheris, both unarmed. He freed
the Queen and set her on his own horse, and
took her to his fortress.
When he heard of the slaying of his
brothers, Gawain wept. And although he was
Lancelot's friend—and staunchest supporter
against Mordred's intrigues—he swore re-
venge. With Arthur's armies Gawain laid
siege to Joyous Garde and called upon Lan-
celot to meet him in single combat—the cus-
tom since the earliest age of heroes. But Lan-
celot refused to fight Gawain or the King, for
he loved them. He withstood the siege for
months, until men of the Church persuaded
Arthur to take Guinevere back. She went, it
was her duty. Lancelot and Guinevere said
their farewells then. Lancelot and his com-
pany went in exile to his lands in France.
The fellowship was broken, the bright
honor of the Round Table stained. Arthur
and his company returned to silent Camelot,
and Arthur waited for the final act.
Gawain brought it about; he insisted that
Arthur's honor be avenged. And at last, with
Gawain at the head of his army, Arthur trav-
eled to France to battle Lancelot. He left his
son, Mordred, as regent in England.
For months the armies fought in France,
until Lancelot's land was laid waste. Each
day, Gawain challenged his old friend to sin-
This was the battle that ended King Arthur's glory: his spear through
the body of his son, the son's sword dealing the father the death blow.
 —
~—

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gle combat, and each day Lancelot refused, |
until Gawain called down scorn upon his |
honor. Lancelot agreed to fight
They met in the field before Lancelot's
fortress gates. All the morning Gawain’s
strength waxed, and Lancelot, well aware of
the uncanny power that was in his friend and
enemy, husbanded his strength. When noon
came, they fought on, but Gawain's strength
gradually waned, until it was like that of oth-
er mortals, and Lancelot found the opening
to strike Sir Gawain down.
Gawain lay in the dust, bright blood
pouring from his broken skull, and implored
Lancelot to finish him. But Lancelot refused.
“It goes against my honor to strike a man |
have felled," he said. “When you can stand, |
will fight you again.” And he turned and left
So an uneasy truce was kept while Gawain
healed. He met Lancelot again to fight, and
again Lancelot gave way in the morning and
triumphed in the afternoon. Again his sword
cleaved Gawain’s skull, and again the blood
poured onto the ground. Gawain had been
felled, yet Lancelot would not strike his old
gaat | companion where he lay.
Pe), is | They were not fated to fight again, how-
he ever, for word reached them of Mordred the
traitor, who had usurped the throne. He had
tried, too, to marry Guinevere—his father's
wife; it was she who sent appeals for help
hen Arthur swore to kill his son, and
sailed for home. The armies met on
Salisbury Plain, the flower of chivalry
died that day. And as he had sworn, |
Arthur found Mordred and put his spear |
through the author of his grief. But Mordred
did not die at once. Howling like an animal,
he thrust himself forward on the spear until |
his belly met the handguard, and with his |
broadsword he struck his father's head,
through helmet and hair and bone to brain.
Then Mordred fell.
Attended by his faithful knight Sir Bedevere, the dying King awaited the
enchanted barge that would bear him across the waters to another world

aA
 Arthur sank to the ground. The battle-
field was still, save for the moans of the
wounded and the scrabbling of the looters
who crept among the bodies. The King
closed his eyes a moment, fighting for con-
sciousness, for he had something left to do
When he opened them he saw a faithful face:
Sir Bedevere, one of the few companions left
alive, bent over him and whispered his name
ing Arthur commanded Bedevere to
take the last action: His sword, Ex-
calibur, must be returned to the wa-
ters whence it had come and to the
people of the other world who had made the
great blade. There was a lake near the field,
still and mist-shrouded, and into this lake
the reluctant Bedevere threw the sword. It
did not strike the water: A hand broke the
surface and seized Excalibur in the air. With-
out a ripple, hand and sword vanished.
It was said that Bedevere carried the King
to the lake edge then, and both watched as a
silk-draped boat glided through the mist. In
the boat were tall women sheathed in black;
they took the wounded King into their arms
and glided away over the water with him, and
Bedevere wept to see the end.
He thought—and others thought-—that
Arthur had not died. The women, it was said,
were the company of the enchantress Mor-
gan le Fay, who took Arthur to the Isle of
Apples, Avalon, to heal and protect him un-
til England should need him again.
And as for Guinevere, she retired to a
nunnery, where she died. Lancelot, it was
said, went into the wilderness, where he, too,
died. And Bedevere and the few knights who
had survived scattered, to journey forever
alone in foreign lands. When they were old,
they told the tales of their youth and of the
shining fellowship they once had, when Ar-
thur ruled Britain and true men fought with
the honor of the valiant.
It is said that Arthur, the once and future King, sleeps still in the fairy
for him again
isle ofAvalon, waiting for the day when his people will call
 Acknowledgments
The editors are particularly indebt- Gallery, London; Martin Forrest, tant Keeper, Glasgow Art Gallery
ed to John Dorst, consultant, for Bourne Fine Art Ltd., Edinburgh, and Museum, Christine Poulson,
his help in the preparation of this Marielise Gopel, Archiv flr Kunst London; Michel Rival, Biblio-
volume. The editors also wish to und Geschichte, West Berlin; Claus théque Nationale, Paris; Royal Li-
thank the following persons and in- Hansmann, Stockdorf Germany; brary, Copenhagen; R. A.
stitutions: Francois Avril, Curator, Jennifer Harris, Assistant Keeper, Saunders, Deputy Curator and
Département des Manuscrits, Bib- Whitworth Art Gallery, Manches- Keeper of Art, Paisley Art Gallery,
liothéque Nationale, Paris; Alasdair ter, England, Gill Hedley, Keeper Scotland; Justin Schiller, New York
Auld, Director, Glasgow Art Gal- of Art, Southampton Art Gallery, City; Joseph Setchell, King Ar-
leryand Museum, MarimarBenitez, England, Heidi Klein, Bildarchiv thur's Hall Ltd., Tintagel, England;
Museo de Arte de Ponce, Ponce, Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Bonn, Tessa Sidey, Assistant Keeper, Bir-
Puerto Rico; William Buchanan, Kunsthistorisches Institut, Bonn; mingham Museum and Art Gallery,
Glasgow School of Art; Jean-Loup Graham Langton, Publications, England, Peyton Skipwith, Fine Art
Charmet, Paris; Elizabeth Cum- Tate Gallery, London; Martin Lee, Society, London; Soviet Copy-
ming, Keeper of Fine Art Collec- Harrap Ltd., London; Francoise Le- right Agency, Moscow; Konrad
tions, Edinburgh City Museums monnier, Bibliotheque Nationale, Vanja, Director, Museum ftir
and Art Galleries; Michael Cuth- Paris; Stefania Rossi Minutelli, Bib- Deutsche Volkskunde SMPQ,
bert, The Edinburgh College of lioteca Marciana, Venice; Gianal- West Berlin, Frédéric Vergne, Li-
Art; Giuseppe Dondi, Director, bino Ravalli Modoni, Director, brarian, Musée Condé, Chantilly,
Biblioteca Nazionale, Turin, Lind- Biblioteca Marciana, Venice; Alice France; Alessandro Vitale, Biblio-
say Errington, Assistant Keeper, Munro-Faure, Sotheby Parke Ber- teca Nazionale, Turin; Clara
National Gallery of Scotland, Edin- net & Co., London; Joseph Natan- Young, Keeper of Art, Dundee Mu-
burgh; Henry Ford, Jeremy Maas son, Rome, Maureen Park, Assis- seums and Art Galleries, Scotland.

Picture Credits
The sources for the illustrations in Press, Dublin, 1907. 30, 31: sen. 76, 77. Artwork by Judy King-
this volume are shown below. When Artwork by Alicia Austin. 32, 33: Rieniets. 78: Artwork by John Jude
known, the name of the artist precedes Seaghan Mac Cathmhaoil, from The Palencar. 80: Arthur Rackham,
the picture source. Tain by Mary A. Hutton, Talbot from Irish Fairy Tales by James Ste-
Press, Dublin, 1907. 34-41: phens, The Macmillan Company,
Artwork by Gary Kelley. 42, 43: New York, 1920, by permission of
Cover: N. C. Wyeth, private col- Artwork by John Jude Palencar. 44, Barbara Edwards, courtesy Mary
lection, photographed by Robert 45: Artwork by Judy King-Rieniets. Evans Picture Library, London. 83:
Walch. 1-5: Artwork by Alicia Aus- 47: Artwork by Walter Brooks. 48: Louis Rhead, from King Arthur and
tin. 6, 7. Artwork by Yvonne Gil- From La Fleur des Histoires of Jean His Knights by Sir James Knowles,
bert. 8-11: Artwork by Winslow Mansel, Det Kongelige Bibliotek, Harper and Brothers Publishers,
Pinney Pels. 12, 13: Artwork by Copenhagen, Thott 568, f. 121v. New York, 1923. 84, 85: Biblio-
Judy King-Rieniets. 15: Detail from 50, 51: Artwork by Walter Brooks théque Royale, Brussels, Ms. 9243,
The Arming of Perseus, Sir Edward 52-57. Artwork by Jill Karla f. 39v. 86, 87: Artwork by Rallé. 88:
Burne-Jones, courtesy Southamp- Schwarz. 58, 59: Artwork by Judy Artwork by John Collier. 90, 91:
ton Art Gallery and Museums, King-Rieniets. 60-63: Artwork by William Frank Calderon, courtesy
Southampton. 17-20: Artwork by Kinuko Y. Craft. 64-73: Arthur Sotheby Parke Bernet & Co., Lon-
Leo and Diane Dillon. 23: J. C. Rackham, from Siegfried and the Twi- don. 92, 93: Artwork by Judy King-
Leyendecker, from Century Maga- light of the Gods, William Heine- Rieniets. 94, 95: J. W. Waterhouse,
zine, January 1907, courtesy Library mann, 1911, by permission of Bar- courtesy The Tate Gallery, Lon-
of Congress. 24, 25: Artwork by bara Edwards, courtesy Mary Evans don. 96-99: Courtesy The Pierpont
Judy King-Rieniets. 26, 29: Picture Library, London, border Morgan Library, M. 806, f. 161v;
Seaghan Mac Cathmhaoil, from The artwork by Judy King-Rieniets. 74, f.253v,; f.158, f.166. 100-107:
Tain by Mary A. Hutton, Talbot 75: Artwork by James C. Christen- Artwork byJill Karla Schwarz. 108,

140
109: Artwork by Mark Langeneck- Birmingham Museums and Art Gal- Edward Burne-Jones, private collec-
ert. 110, 111: Artwork by Judy lery, Birmingham. 122, 123: Arthur tion, photographed by Geoffrey
King-Rieniets. 113: W. Russell Hughes, Walker City Art Gallery, Shakerley, London. 132-135: Wil-
Flint, from Le Morte Darthur by Sir Liverpool, courtesy The Bridgeman liam Hatherell, courtesy King Ar-
Thomas Malory, ° The Medici So- Art Library, London. 124, 125: Ed- thur's Hall Ltd., Tintagel, photo-
ciety Ltd., 1910/1911, courtesy win Austin Abbey, courtesy Trust- graphed by Derek Bayes, London.
Mary Evans Picture Library, Lon- ees of the Boston Public Library. 136, 137: John Mulcaster Carrick,
don. 114, 115: Artwork by Judy 127: Sir Edward Burne-Jones, Bir- courtesy Sotheby Parke Bernet &
King-Rieniets. 116, 117: William mingham Museums and Art Gal- Co., London. 138, 139: SirEdward
Hatherell, courtesy King Arthur's lery, courtesy The Bridgeman Art Burne-Jones, courtesy Museo de
Hall Ltd., Tintagel, photographed Library, London. 128, 129: Edwin Arte de Ponce (Fundacion Luis A.
by Derek Bayes, London. 119, 120: Austin Abbey, courtesy Trustees of Ferré), Puerto Rico. 144: Artwork
Sir Edward Burne-Jones, courtesy the Boston Public Library. 130: Sir by Alicia Austin.

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142
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