Historical Tales Volume Xiii Part 41

But Tristram's anger was turned towards Lamorak for this affront, for he knew well what had been his purpose. And he vowed in his heart that he would yet repay him for this treacherous act.

His affection for Queen Isolde kept as warm as though the love-draught still flowed in his veins, and he sought her at every opportunity, for the two greatest joys that life held for him were to tell her of his love and hear from her lips that her love for him had never dimmed.

But his treacherous cousin Andred watched his every movement, and kept the king advised that Tristram continued his secret interviews with the queen. So an ambush of twelve knights was set, and one day, when Tristram had just paid a stolen visit to the queen, and sat in loving converse by her side, these ambushed knights broke suddenly upon him, took him prisoner, and bound him hand and foot.

Then, by order of the king, he was borne to a chapel that stood on a rocky height above the sea, where Andred and some others of the barons who were his enemies came together to pa.s.s judgment upon him.

Tristram in all his life had never stood in such peril, for his hands were bound fast to two knights, and forty others surrounded him, every one a foe. Care had been taken to get rid of his friends among the barons by sending them away from the court on various pretexts. Like a lion surrounded by jackals he chafed in his bonds, while his great heart swelled as if it would break. No escape seemed possible, but with a reproachful voice he said,--

"Fair lords, I have in my time done something for Cornwall, and taken upon myself great peril for your benefit. Who among you all was ready to meet Sir Marhaus, or to cope with Palamides? Is this shameful death my reward for my services to your country? You know well that I never met a knight but that I was his match or his better."

"Boast not, false traitor," cried Andred. "For all thy vaunting, thou shalt die this day."

"O Andred, Andred, that you my kinsman should treat me thus!" said Tristram sorrowfully. "You can be bold when I am bound, but if there were none here but you and me, you would crouch like a cur at my feet."

"Would I so?" cried Andred, angrily. "You shall see what I would do."

And as he spoke he drew his sword, and advanced upon his cousin with intent to slay him on the spot. But Tristram, when he saw him coming with murderous looks, suddenly drew inwards with all his strength the two knights to whom he was bound, and with a mighty wrench broke the strong cords asunder. Then with the leap of a tiger he sprang upon his treacherous cousin, wrested the sword from his hand, and smote him a blow that hurled him insensible to the earth. This done, he rushed with the fury of a madman on his enemies, striking mighty blows to right and left, till in a few minutes ten of them lay dead and wounded on the earth.

But seeing that they were pressing on him in too great force, he retreated into the chapel, in whose door-way he stood, sword in hand, holding it against all their a.s.saults.

Soon, however, the cry went forth that the prisoner had escaped, and had felled Andred and killed many of the barons, and others of his foes hastened up, till more than a hundred beleaguered him in the chapel.

Tristram now looked despairingly on his unarmed form, and saw that many of his a.s.sailants wore armor of proof. Death was sure unless he could find some means of escape. He knew that the chapel stood on the brow of the cliff, and here seemed his only hope of safety, though it was a perilous one. Quickly retreating, he shut and barred the door, and then with hand and sword wrenched and tore the iron bars from a window over the cliff, out of which he desperately leaped.

The descent was a deep one, but he fortunately reached the sea below without striking any of the rocks in his descent. Here he drew himself into a crevice at the foot of the cliff.

Those above rushed to the rocky edge and looked down into the boiling waters far below, but they saw nothing of the daring knight, and after a long and vain effort to see him, went away to report to the king that his enemy was drowned.

But while King Mark and Tristram's enemies were congratulating one another upon this, there came to the top of the cliff, Gouvernail, Lambegus, and others of Tristram's men, who, looking down, saw him creeping up from the water to a safer place of shelter among the rocks.

Hailing him, they bade him to be of good heart, and, letting down a rope which they quickly procured, they managed to draw him up to the summit, where they congratulated him warmly on his escape. Without delay, however, he left that spot, for fear of his foes returning, and sought a place of shelter in the forest.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CLIFFS ABOVE THE SEA.]

Here he abode for some time, but the news of his escape got abroad, to the discomfiture of his foes. And on a day when he had fallen asleep, a man to whom he had done some injury crept up and shot him in the shoulder with an arrow. Tristram sprang up and killed the man, but the wound pained him day by day. And on news of it being brought to La Belle Isolde she sent him word by Dame Bragwaine that the arrow had been poisoned, and with a venom that no leech in England could cure. "My lady, La Belle Isolde, bids you haste into Brittany to King Howell,"

said Dame Bragwaine, "for she knows no one who can help you but his daughter, Isolde la Blanche Mains."

Hearing this, the wounded knight sent a sad farewell to his lady love, and took s.h.i.+p with Gouvernail his squire, and sailed to Brittany, where he was warmly welcomed by King Howell.

And when Isolde of the white hands heard of the errand of the knight, she applied to his wound healing herbs of such virtue that in a little while he was whole again.

Afterwards Tristram dwelt long in Brittany, and helped King Howell much in his wars.

CHAPTER VI.

THE MADNESS OF SIR TRISTRAM.

Of the visit of Sir Tristram to Brittany, and the healing of his wound, with the great deeds he did there, and how he overthrew the giant knight Nabon le Noire, we shall not further speak. Letters at length came to him from La Belle Isolde, in which she spoke pitifully of tales that had been brought her, saying that he had been false to her, and had married Isolde the White Handed, daughter of King Howell of Brittany.

On receiving these letters, Tristram set out in all haste for Cornwall, bringing with him Kehydius, King Howell's son. On his way there he had many adventures, and rescued King Arthur from an enchantress, who had brought him near to death in the forest perilous. When at length he came to Cornwall he sought the castle of Dinas the seneschal, his warmest friend, and sent him to tell Queen Isolde that he had secretly returned.

At this longed-for news the queen swooned from pure joy. When she recovered and was able to speak, she said, in pitiful accents,--

"Gentle seneschal, I pray you bring him where I may speak with him, or my heart will break."

"Trust me for that," answered Dinas.

Then he and Dame Bragwaine brought Tristram and Kehydius privately to the court, and to a chamber which Isolde had a.s.signed for them. But to tell the joy of the meeting between Tristram and La Belle Isolde we shall not endeavor, for no tongue could tell it, nor heart think it, nor pen write it.

Yet misfortune still pursued these true lovers, and this time it came from friends instead of foes, for the presence of Kehydius in the castle led to the most doleful and melancholy misfortune which the world ever knew. For, as the chronicles make mention, no sooner had Kehydius seen La Belle Isolde, than he became so enamoured of her that his heart might never more be free. And at last, as we are told, he died from pure love of this beautiful queen, but with that we are not here concerned. But privately he wrote her letters which were full of moving tales of his love, and composed love poems to her which no minstrel of those days might surpa.s.s.

All these he managed to put into the queen's hands privately, and at length, when she saw how deeply he was enamoured, she was moved by such pity for his hopeless love that, out of the pure kindness of her heart, she unwisely wrote him a letter, seeking to comfort him in his distress.

Sad was it that pity should bring such sorrow and pain to two loving hearts as came from that fatal letter. For on a day when King Mark sat playing chess at a chamber window, it chanced that La Belle Isolde and Kehydius were in the chamber above, where they awaited the coming of Tristram from the turret-room in which he was secretly accommodated. But as ill luck would have it, there fell into Tristram's hands the last letter which Kehydius had written to the queen, and her answer, which was so worded that it seemed as if she returned his love.

These the young lover had carelessly left in Tristram's chamber, where he found them and thoughtlessly began reading them. But not far had he read when his heart sank deep in woe, and then leaped high in anger. He hurried in all haste to the chamber where Isolde and Kehydius were, the letters in his hand.

"Isolde," he cried, pitifully, "what mean these letters,--this which Kehydius has written you, and this, your answer, with its vile tale of love? Alas! is this my repayment for the love I have lavished on you, that you thus treacherously desert me for the viper that I have brought hither?--As for you, Kehydius, you have foully repaid my trust in you and all my services. But bear you well in mind that I shall be amply revenged for your falsehood and treason."

Then he drew his sword with such a fierce and threatening countenance that Isolde swooned out of pure fear; and Kehydius, when he saw him advancing with murder in his face, saw but one chance for life, and leaped out of a bay window immediately over that where King Mark sat playing at chess.

When the king saw the body of a man hurtling down over his head, so close that he almost touched him as he sat at the window, he sprang up in alarm and cried,--

"What the foul fiend is this? Who are you, fellow? and where in the wide world have you come from?"

Kehydius, who had fallen on his feet, answered the king with ready wit.

"My lord, the king," he said, "blame me not, for I fell in my sleep. I was seated in the window above you, and slumbered there, and you see what has come of it."

"The next time you are sleepy, good fellow, hunt a safer couch," laughed the king, and turned again to his chess.

But Tristram was sure that his presence in the castle would now be known to the king, and hastened to arm himself with such armor as he could find, in dread of an a.s.sault in force. But as no one came against him, he sent Gouvernail for his horse and spear, and rode in knightly guise openly from the gates of Tintagil.

At the gate it chanced that he met with Gingalin, the son of Gawaine, who had just arrived; and the young knight, being full of ardor, and having a fancy to tilt with a Cornish warrior, put his spear in rest and rode against Tristram, breaking his spear on him.

Tristram had yet no spear, but he drew his sword and put all his grief and anger into the blow he gave the bold young knight. So hard he struck that Gingalin was flung from his saddle, and the sword, slipping down, cut through the horse's neck, leaving the knight with a headless charger.

Then Tristram rode on until he disappeared in the forest. All this was seen by King Mark, who sent a squire to the hurt knight and asked him who he was. When he knew it was Sir Gingalin, he welcomed him, and proffered him another horse, asking what knight it was he had encountered.

"That I know not," said Gingalin, "but he has a mighty wrist, whoever he is. And he sighed and moaned as if some great disaster had happened him.

I shall beware of weeping knights hereafter, if they all strike like this."

As Tristram rode on he met Sir Fergus, one of his own knights, but by this time his grief and pain of heart had grown so bitter that he fell from his horse in a swoon, and lay thus for three days and nights.