Lancelot and the Lord of the Distant Isles. Patricia Terry
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tomorrow morning.”
“Farewell, then, and God protect you, dear friend.”
And he answered silently, “My lady, I thank you with all my heart for granting me that name.”
BOOK TWO: THE WHITE KNIGHT
THE NEW KNIGHT WAS TOO IMPATIENT to tarry at court. He longed to experience the reality of a knight’s high mission, to prove his mettle and gain well-justified renown. Now with Queen Guenevere’s words resounding in his heart, he felt spurred to action, and nothing could deter him from seizing the first opportunity to face a challenge. It arose that very evening, when a man, in full armor except for his helmet, strode into the great hall and stood before the king. “I serve the Lady of Nohaut,” he said, “and have come, at her command, to declare, my lord, that she is in need of your help. The King of Northumberland has invaded her lands and laid siege to one of her castles, killing many of her men and destroying the land on all sides. He insists that he has done this by right, and is calling on her to keep an agreement that my lady does not acknowledge in the slightest. He insists that she yield to him unless she can find a champion to defend her – a knight willing to face two opponents simultaneously. As you are her liege lord, she asks that you send her such a knight.”
Before King Arthur could say a word, the young man sprang forward to offer his help.
“My friend,” said King Arthur, “this is too grave a challenge for one as inexperienced as you. You have come to me with greatness in your heart and with a yearning to win honor and fame. But it would be wrong of me to let you face such danger so soon, and it would grieve me to see all that is fresh and beautiful in you brought to an early end. We have not yet even taken the final step in making you a knight.”
But the young man’s persistence defeated the king’s paternal reluctance to risk his safety. So Arthur agreed, and the youth rode off at once toward Nohaut and the allure of worthy combat.
Two against one: a formidable risk for any man but especially for a novice. The training he had received as an adolescent, his daring – above all, the energizing sense of being in the right – ensured his victory. In twenty minutes that left the Lady of Nohaut more breathless than her champion, the conflict was resolved in her favor; and King Arthur, had he been present, would happily have forsworn his doubts.
The battle at Nohaut was but the first trial for the new knight, resplendent in his white armor, as he wandered through the countryside, drawing appeals from the helpless and defiance from the wicked. He threw himself into these adventures with the eagerness of the young and high-minded, the thought that he was the queen’s “dear friend” unleashing all the generosity of spirit fostered in him by the Lady of the Lake. He was strong and skilled. Though he suffered wounds and momentary reverses, he emerged the victor from every encounter. He freed a knight and two maidens whom he then sent with a message to the queen. He battled an ugly knight for access to a ford that the miscreant had no right to bar. He rescued a girl taunted by a giant.
“What Adventure is that?”
“If you go there, you’ll find out,” she sadly advised him.
The young knight took the path she showed him, and galloped until he saw a superb fortress high on a cliff, with the Humber River flowing at its base. He met a woman at the gate whom he would have recognized, had her face not been heavily veiled. She told him about the castle, a dwelling place of evil, whose people were under the sway of a “wicked and powerful lord, in thrall to enchantments that embitter their lives and make them long for deliverance.” The occasional knights who tried to rescue them were all they ever saw of the outside world. These were made to fight against impossible odds, and were then buried in a vast underground chamber. Strange and terrifying noises came from there; they were thought to be the voices of the unquiet dead. The castle-dwellers never saw the sun. Only gnarled, leafless trees and seedless plants grew in gardens that had once flourished. The evil lord and his vassals felt no deprivation, but those who served them toiled through the seasons wan and hungry.
The castle was surrounded by two walls, each with one small door. If a knight tried to enter, he was forced to confront ten opponents. By the rules of that combat, they fought him one at a time, but each knight could change places with another as soon as he was tired.
The lady turned away, and the knight heard someone calling from high above, “Sir knight, what do you want?”
“I want to come in.”
“That will cost you dear.”
“Whatever it costs, my friend, but hurry! It’s getting dark.”
The man on watch blew a horn, and an armed knight rode out through the narrow gate, and said, “Sir knight, we’ll have more room to fight over there near the tower.”
It was a quick encounter. The White Knight shattered the defender’s lance and sent his own through the other’s hauberk and deep into his chest. The man fell backwards off his horse, and was dead before he landed. The victor, however, had scarcely time to recover his lance when the horn sounded again and another opponent appeared. This one and three others barely survived the combat. The White Knight would have gone on fighting in the dark, had not the rest of his opponents withdrawn behind the portcullis. The young woman returned and took him to an inn in the town outside the castle walls. She let him go alone into his room. There he found three silver shields hanging on the wall, one traversed by a single red band, one with two bands on it, and one with three. This seemed to him strange and even troubling, but before he could give it any further thought, his guide came in, her face now unveiled. In the joy of recognition, he threw his arms around her, exclaiming, “Celise! You’ve come from my dear Lady! No messenger could be more welcome!”
The Lady of the Lake had sent Celise to bring the shields and to carry a prophetic message: the next day her prince would be master of the castle. There he would learn his father’s name and his own. As for the silver shields, the first would give him twice his usual strength, the second would triple it, and the third would make him four times as strong. On no account was he to rely on the energy of youth, but must instead take up one of the shields as soon as he was tired.
At the castle a knight confided to him, “The truth is I wish you had taken the castle already, and put an end to my lord’s cruel ways. But still I have to honor the fealty I swore.”
In the jousts that followed, the White Knight taunted his opponents to make them attack two or three at a time, so impatient was he to have done with them. But as soon as one of the defenders had had enough, he withdrew into the castle, sending another to take his place. The White Knight was offered no such respite. He was out of breath and bruised and bleeding; almost nothing was left of his shield. Then a squire brought him another with one red band across it, and he immediately felt twice as strong as before, agile, swift-moving, free of pain. He fought on through the day, becoming disheartened at how long it was taking to reach his goal. The squire brought him the two-banded shield, and with its help he killed or grievously wounded all his foes except for three, who made haste to declare themselves his prisoners. But beyond the first gate there waited ten more knights. Then Celise herself brought him the third shield and a beautiful new helmet, since his own had taken so many blows it offered no