The Adventures of Sir Lancelot the Great, Page 2

  "What if you tried to pry it out with another sword?"

  Sir Phelot turned around and snapped, "Now where am I going to find another ... er ... another ... oh, dear."

  It is very difficult to run fast or far while wearing armor, but the storytellers say that that day Sir Phelot broke all the records. In fact, the run of Sir Phelot became proverbial in King Arthur's court. Sir Phelot was called "the fastest knight in England" and every exceptionally speedy runner would be called a "regular Sir Phelot." And so, as it happened, Sir Phelot did become famous for his speed, and perhaps that would have satisfied him. No one can say for sure, though, because Sir Phelot was never seen in England again.

  Chapter 3

  Sir Kay's Restful Quest

  Although Sir Lancelot usually rode alone when he went questing, one time he agreed to ride with a friend, Sir Kay. Sir Kay was King Arthur's foster brother, and years before had been one of the heroes of Camelot. But Sir Kay was older now and seldom went out questing these days, so when he did, he thought it would be good to have Sir Lancelot along. After all, he thought, who would dare challenge the greatest knight in England? Sir Kay looked forward to a restful quest.

  After three days, though, Sir Kay wasn't sure. They met no dragons to slay, no recreant knights, and not one damsel in even a tiny bit of distress. "Restful" began to feel a lot like "boring." Worst of all, to Sir Kay's astonishment, every afternoon Sir Lancelot stopped for a nap.

  "Naps?" expostulated Sir Kay. "Is this what you call questing?"

  "I like afternoon naps," Sir Lancelot explained. "They're very refreshing."

  So for three days, after lunch, Sir Kay sat around while his companion refreshed himself. "This is taking restfulness too far," Sir Kay muttered on the third afternoon. "I suppose I could look about for a little adventure while Lancelot has his beauty sleep." With that, Sir Kay mounted his horse and cantered off into the forest.

  When Sir Lancelot awoke that day, he knew at once that something was wrong. To begin with, he had been awakened by someone tightening ropes around his hands and feet, which was not at all normal. Also, at his feet sat four ladies in crowns, and he couldn't remember ever waking up with queens at his feet. Sir Kay was nowhere to be seen.

  "Er, good afternoon, Your Highnesses," said Sir Lancelot.

  "You're Sir Lancelot, aren't you?" one queen asked breathlessly.

  "Yes, I am. Why are my hands—?"

  All four queens squealed with delight. "I knew it!" the first queen said.

  "I recognized his shining armor," said the second.

  "I knew it from his shield," said the third.

  "He's so handsome!" added the fourth.

  "Is it true you've never lost a tournament?" asked the first.

  "Did you really defeat the great Sir Carados?" added the second.

  "And slay the two giants of Tintagel?" queried the third.

  "He's so handsome!" said the fourth.

  "My ladies," replied Sir Lancelot. "May I ask your names?"

  The first lady replied, "I am the Queen of Gor. This is the Queen of Northgales, the Queen of Eastland, and the Queen of the Out Isles."

  "He's so handsome!" commented the Queen of the Out Isles.

  "Charmed to meet you," Sir Lancelot said. "And, if I may ask, why are my hands and feet tied?"

  "It's only temporary," the Queen of Gor assured him. "We've sent for soldiers from my castle, and as soon as they put you in my dungeon, we can remove your bonds."

  "Your dungeon?"

  "Just for a little while," the Queen of Gor said, smiling. "You'll be freed soon."

  "How soon?" asked Sir Lancelot.

  "As soon as you choose one of us for your true love."

  "Do choose me!" interjected the Queen of Northgales.

  "No, pick me!" cried the Queen of Eastland.

  "He's so handsome!" added the Queen of the Out Isles.

  "Ah," said Sir Lancelot wearily. "That soon."

  For two days Sir Lancelot paced back and forth in the Queen of Gor's dungeon. Every morning, the queens trooped in and asked him to choose one of them as his love forever, and every morning, Sir Lancelot politely declined. The only other person he saw was the Queen of Gor's lady-in-waiting, Blanche, who fed him.

  "How are you today?" asked Blanche as she brought him lunch on the second day.

  "Since you ask," replied Sir Lancelot, "not very well."

  "Have you chosen one of the queens to love yet?" asked Blanche.

  "The thing is," Sir Lancelot explained, "I don't love one of them. At the moment, in fact, I don't even like them."

  "To be honest," Blanche said, "they're getting annoyed with you, too. Except the Queen of the Out Isles, of course. She thinks—"

  "I know," sighed Sir Lancelot. "I'm so handsome."

  "Well, yes, she does rather think that," Blanche admitted. She hesitated briefly, then said, "Sir Lancelot?"

  "Yes?"

  "If I accidentally left your door unlocked, would you escape and find your way out of the castle, remembering to go left at every turning?"

  Sir Lancelot blinked. "I might," he admitted. "Left at every turn, you say?"

  "That's right. And if you did find your way out and recover your horse and armor from the stables—the last stall on the right—would you go looking for adventure?"

  "Perhaps," said Sir Lancelot.

  "And if you went seeking adventure and found a strong recreant knight named Sir Turquin the Rotten, who locks up all the knights he defeats in his dungeons, would you fight him and make him set his prisoners free, including a knight named Sir Bademus, who happens to be my brother?"

  "I would do my best, my lady," replied Sir Lancelot.

  "Oh," said Blanche. "I just wondered." Then she left, without locking the door.

  Following Blanche's directions, Sir Lancelot escaped from the dungeon, recovered his horse and armor, and rode away from the Castle of Gor. He had two tasks before him: first, to face this Sir Turquin, and second, to find Sir Kay. As fortune would have it, he completed both tasks at once.

  Riding through a wood shortly after his escape, Sir Lancelot heard a muffled groan, then the slow clopping of hooves. A moment later he came upon Sir Kay, bound and slung face-down over his saddle, while a knight in black armor led Sir Kay's horse.

  "Kay?" said Sir Lancelot.

  Sir Kay twisted around and, with effort, looked up at him. "Where the deuce have you been?"

  "It's a long story" replied Sir Lancelot. "Er, how've you been?"

  "Actually," said Sir Kay, "not so well. I don't suppose you could lend a hand, could you?"

  Sir Lancelot turned toward the black knight, who demanded gruffly, "Are you a friend of Sir Kay's?"

  "I am."

  "Then know this! I am Sir Turquin the Rotten, and I hate all knights but especially those of King Arthur's court! I have sworn to attack all such knights that I meet!"

  "Why?" asked Sir Lancelot.

  Sir Turquin scowled. "Because I'm a recreant knight, of course! It's what we do!"

  "I see," replied Sir Lancelot. "Just following the rules, then?"

  "Somebody has to," said Sir Turquin. "If only to keep the tradition alive. If you saw the shoddy work some of the young recreant knights are doing these days, you'd be shocked!"

  "Excuse me," interrupted Sir Kay. "If you two are quite done chatting..."

  "Oh, right," Sir Lancelot said apologetically. He and Sir Turquin drew their swords and charged each other.

  It was a magnificent battle, if you like that sort of thing. Sir Lancelot had fought many great knights, but never had he faced so skillful a swordsman. They traded blows for more than an hour, which is quite a long time to fight in full armor. At last, exhausted, the two knights separated for a moment, gasping for breath.

  "I had ... had no idea ... recreant knights ... could do such good work," panted Sir Lancelot.

  "Thanks," gasped Sir Turquin. "I do ... take pride in my ... my craft. You're ... you're rather good, yourse
lf."

  "You're too kind," Sir Lancelot replied modestly.

  Sir Turquin took a deep breath. "It goes against ... against the grain to put such a fine knight in my dungeon. I'd like to propose a truce. Unless, of course..." he trailed off.

  "Unless what?"

  "There's one knight I cannot have a truce with," said Sir Turquin. "The knight who defeated my brother, Sir Carados. I have sworn never to make peace with Sir Lancelot."

  Sir Lancelot sighed. "What a shame!" he said.

  "Oh," replied Sir Turquin. "I see."

  With that, the two knights raised their weapons and hurled themselves at each other again, for another hour. Sir Kay, hanging upside down, saw little of the battle, of course, but from what he saw, he always said afterward that never had such a fight been waged in England. As for Sir Lancelot, he would only say that that he did not so much defeat Sir Turquin as outlast him.

  But outlast him he did. After the second hour, Sir Lancelot managed to land one blow on Sir Turquin's helmet that stunned the black knight for a moment. Another blow, and Sir Turquin sank to his knees, then toppled over on his face, unconscious. Staggering and barely conscious himself, Sir Lancelot untied his friend. Then Sir Kay helped the exhausted Sir Lancelot onto his horse and led the way to Sir Turquin's castle. An hour later, the two friends were being joyfully thanked by dozens of knights whom they had released from Sir Turquin's dungeons. Among the freed knights were many friends from Camelot, as well as Sir Bademus, Blanche's brother.

  "Let's go find a quiet place in the woods, Kay," Sir Lancelot said. "I need my afternoon nap. If you don't mind, would you wake me up tomorrow afternoon?"

  Chapter 4

  Return and Departure

  After their encounter with Sir Turquin, Sir Lancelot and Sir Kay rested for several days, until both felt strong enough to ride. At last, Sir Lancelot announced that he felt fit enough to face adventures again.

  "Er, haven't we just faced one?" Sir Kay asked, surprised.

  "Yes," Sir Lancelot replied, "but I'm sure there are others."

  Sir Kay thought about this for a moment. "Don't you think we should leave some adventures for Arthur's other knights? We don't want to be piggy, you know."

  "I never thought of that," admitted Sir Lancelot.

  "Besides that," added Sir Kay, "I don't heal from knocks as quickly as I used to. I'd as soon not do any more fighting for a bit. To be honest, I'm ready to go home."

  "I understand perfectly," Sir Lancelot said. "But I'm feeling fine, and it seems a shame not to find at least one more adventure while I'm out. Just one more wouldn't be greedy, would it?"

  "Tell you what," Sir Kay said. "Why don't we split up? I'll go back to court and report on our quest together, and you can shop around for another adventure. And I've had another idea, too. Why don't we exchange armor?"

  "What?"

  "I'll wear your armor and you'll wear mine," Sir Kay explained.

  "Why?"

  "Everyone knows your shining armor, don't you see? When recreant knights see me, they'll think that I'm you and leave me alone. Who would want to fight Sir Lancelot the Great?"

  "Sir Turquin did," Sir Lancelot pointed out.

  "And look how that turned out for him," Sir Kay replied. "No, I'm sure it will give me a quiet, restful ride home."

  "But Kay," Sir Lancelot began, "when people see my armor, they usually—"

  "Meanwhile," Sir Kay continued, "you'll be in my armor, which nobody knows. It will be like a disguise, and you'll have all sorts of adventures you wouldn't have had otherwise. What do you say?"

  Sir Lancelot tried to argue, but his friend persisted, and in the end he agreed. Over the next few weeks, it did seem that Sir Kay had been right. Although he missed his own armor, Sir Lancelot had a great many adventures, and England's storytellers began to tell how Sir Kay overcame a recreant knight named Sir Peris of the Forest Savage and how how he drove away an evil sorceress named Hellawes of the Chapel Perilous, and many other such stories. At last, Sir Lancelot returned to court, where the first knight to meet him was Sir Kay.

  "Thank goodness you're home!" Sir Kay declared.

  "Oh? Did you miss me?" asked Sir Lancelot.

  "Deuced right, I did!" Sir Kay exclaimed. "Now give me my armor and take yours back at once!"

  Sir Lancelot smiled. "Didn't you like my shining armor?"

  "Not by half! You might have warned me that everywhere I went, every wet-eared, knock-kneed thimblewit who fancies himself a knight would try to fight me!"

  "That does get inconvenient, doesn't it? But truly, I tried to warn you."

  "But those silly puppies weren't the worst of it!" continued Sir Kay. "Not ten miles from where we parted, I was set on by four of the nastiest wenches I've ever met—all of them wearing crowns—crying and wailing and snatching at my feet and throwing themselves on me and calling out, 'Choose me, Sir Lancelot!' and 'Come back, Sir Lancelot!' and 'You're so handsome, Sir Lancelot!'"

  "Oh, you met the four queens. Perhaps I should have mentioned them to you."

  "I should dashed well think so! I was lucky to get away in one piece!" Sir Kay threw Sir Lancelot's armor down between them. "I'll tell you this, Lancelot. I used to envy you, but now that I've tried it, I wouldn't be in your place for anything!"

  Sir Lancelot sighed. Sir Kay had a point: being Sir Lancelot the Great was not very restful.

  The very next day Sir Lancelot learned that being the greatest knight in England had other disadvantages. As it happened, a few days before Sir Lancelot arrived at court, King Arthur had proclaimed a tournament, to the delight of all Camelot. There would be jousting, which was where knights tried to knock one another from their horses with lances, and a mock battle and colorful banners and minstrels and jugglers and feasts. All the brave knights polished their armor, and all the fair damsels gave tokens to their favorite knights, bright strips of cloth to wear on their ar mor. The event was scheduled for two weeks away, and all Camelot buzzed with anticipation.

  Sir Lancelot was delighted as well. He always enjoyed a good tournament, and so he declared that he would enter the contest.

  "Oh, well," said all the brave knights, putting away their armor.

  "Never mind," said all the fair damsels, taking back their tokens.

  "Lancelot," said King Arthur, "I wonder if I could ask you to give this tournament a miss?"

  "But why, Sire?" asked Sir Lancelot.

  "The thing is," the king replied, "all the other knights know that you'll win, and all the damsels know that you never wear a lady's token in a joust. It just takes the fun out of it for the everyone else."

  "But I like tournaments," Sir Lancelot said. "What if I promise to use my left hand?"

  "You've already defeated everyone left-handed," King Arthur pointed out. "I'm afraid you'll need a bigger handicap than that to make it fair. Tell you what, Lance, why don't you take a little vacation in the countryside?"

  "I've just come back from the countryside."

  "Then find a different countryside."

  "Bother," Sir Lancelot said, but he obeyed and left the court.

  As the king had suggested, Sir Lancelot rode to a countryside he had never visited before, a pleasant region called Shalott. Around midafternoon, Sir Lancelot found a shady spot under a tree and, after removing his armor, lay down for his afternoon nap.

  Hardly had he gone to sleep, though, when he was roused by the baying of hunting dogs nearby, then the murmur of human voices. He was about to sit up to look about when he was struck with a searing pain in the part of his body that he normally sat upon. On the right side. Sir Lancelot gasped but stayed still, listening. Someone, it seemed, was attacking him, and he wanted to know who.

  Behind him, a woman's voice said, "Did I hit it?"

  "No, you didn't hit it," replied a man's voice. "I told you to get closer before shooting."

  "But it was a very big deer. I thought I couldn't miss."

  "Elaine, you duffer, you couldn't have hit a
deer at that distance if it had been as big as a house. Even I wouldn't have tried that shot!"

  "Ooh," retorted the woman. "Even the great Sir Lavaine wouldn't have tried it!"

  "And now you've lost a perfectly good arrow somewhere in that tall grass," the man replied.

  With much discomfort, Sir Lancelot pulled himself to his feet. Across the meadow stood a young woman and a young man. "Excuse me," Sir Lancelot said. The two looked at him with surprise. "Have you lost an arrow?" he asked them.

  "Yes, indeed," the young lady replied. "Have you seen it?"

  "Not exactly," said Sir Lancelot. "But I know where it is."

  "See, I haven't lost it after all," the lady said to the man. She smiled at Sir Lancelot. "Would you show me where it landed?"

  "Er, I'd rather not, my lady," Sir Lancelot said. His leg was wet with blood, and he was starting to feel dizzy. "Do either of you know where I could find a doctor hereabouts?"

  Then Sir Lancelot fainted.

  Chapter 5

  The Lady of Shalott

  When Sir Lancelot awoke he was lying on his stomach in a bed, and beside him sat two men—the young man from the meadow and an older man in rich clothes and a gray beard.

  "Oh, good," the young man said. "You're awake."

  "Ouch," said Sir Lancelot.

  "I'm afraid you'll smart for a while," the older man said. "And be quite weak for a bit. The doctor says you've lost a lot of blood."

  "Where am I?"

  "I am Sir Bernard of Shalott, and you're in my castle. My daughter, Lady Elaine, and Sir Lavaine here brought you to me after you fainted."