Historical Tales Volume Xiv Part 29

"Why seek you to slay him?"

"He has richly deserved it, and die he shall, whoever says the contrary."

Then he ran upon Bors and raised his sword to strike him on the head.

But Colgrevance pushed between them and thrust him fiercely backward.

"Off, you murderer!" he cried. "If you are so hot for blood you must have mine first."

"Who are you?" demanded Lionel.

"I am Colgrevance, one of your fellows. Round Table Knights should be brothers, not foes, but I would challenge King Arthur himself in this quarrel."

"Defend yourself, meddler," cried Lionel, rus.h.i.+ng upon him and striking him fiercely on the helm with his sword.

"That shall I," rejoined Colgrevance, attacking him in turn.

Then a hot battle began, for Colgrevance was a good knight, and defended himself manfully.

While the fight went on Bors recovered his senses, and saw with a sad heart Colgrevance defending him against his brother. He strove to rise and part them, but his hurts were such that he could not stand on his feet. And thus he sat watching the combat till he saw that Colgrevance had the worst, for Lionel had wounded him sorely, and he had lost so much blood that he could barely stand.

At this juncture he saw Bors, who sat watching them in deep anguish.

"Bors," he cried, "I am fighting to succor you. Will you sit there and see me perish?"

"You both shall die," cried Lionel, furiously. "You shall pay the penalty of your meddling, and he of his treason."

Hearing this, Bors rose with aching limbs, and painfully put on his helm. Colgrevance again called to him in anguish,--

"Help me, Bors! I can stand no longer. Will you let me die without lifting your hand?"

At this moment Lionel smote the helm from his head, and then with another fierce blow stretched him dead and bleeding upon the earth.

This murderous deed done, he ran on Bors with the pa.s.sion of a fiend, and dealt him a blow that made him stoop.

"For G.o.d's love leave me!" cried Bors. "If I slay you or you me, we will both be dead of that sin."

"May G.o.d never help me if I take mercy on you, if I have the better hand," cried Lionel, in reply.

Then Bors drew his sword, though his eyes were wet with tears.

"Fair brother," he said, "G.o.d knows my heart. You have done evil enough this day, in slaying a holy priest and one of our own brotherhood of knights. I fear you not, but I dread the wrath of G.o.d, for this is an unnatural battle which you force upon me. May G.o.d have mercy upon me, since I must defend my life against my brother."

Saying this, Bors raised his sword and advanced upon Lionel, who stood before him with the wrath of a fury.

Then would have been a most unholy battle, had not G.o.d come to the rescue. For as they thus stood defiant a voice came to them from the air, which said,--

"Flee, Bors, and touch him not, for if you do, you will surely slay him."

And between them descended a cloud that gleamed like fire, and from which issued a marvellous flame that burned both their s.h.i.+elds to a cinder. They were both so affrighted that they fell to the earth, and lay there long in a swoon.

When they came to themselves Bors saw that his brother had received no harm. For this he thanked G.o.d, for he feared that heaven's vengeance had fallen upon him. Then came the voice again.

"Bors," it said, "go hence, and bear thy brother company no longer. Take thy way to the sea where Percivale awaiteth thee."

"Forgive me, brother," said Bors, "for what I have done against you."

"G.o.d has forgiven you, and I must," said Lionel. "It was the foul fiend that filled my soul with fury, and much harm has come of it."

Then Bors rode away, leaving Lionel in the company of those whom he had slain, and took the most direct road towards the sea.

At length he came to an abbey that was near the water-side. And at midnight as he rested there he was roused from his sleep by a voice, that bade him leave his bed and ride onward.

He started up at this, and made the sign of the cross on his forehead; then took his harness and horse, and rode out at a broken place in the abbey wall. An hour or so brought him to the water-side, and on the strand there lay awaiting him a s.h.i.+p all covered with white samite. Bors alighted, and leaving his horse on the stand entered the s.h.i.+p, commending himself to Christ's fostering care.

Hardly had he done so before the sails spread, as of themselves, and the vessel set out to sea so fast that it seemed to fly. But it was still dark night, and he saw no one about him. So he lay down and slept till day.

When he awaked he saw a knight lying in the middle of the deck, all armed but the helm. A glance told him that it was Percivale de Galis, and he sprang towards him with joy. But Percivale drew back, asking him who he was.

"Know you me not?" asked Bors.

"I do not. But I marvel how you came hither, unless brought by our Lord himself."

Then Bors took off his helm and smiled. Great was Percivale's joy when he recognized him, and long did they converse in gladness, telling each other their adventures and temptations.

And so they went far over the sea, the s.h.i.+p taking them they knew not whither, yet each comforted the other, and daily they prayed for G.o.d's grace.

"Now, that we two are together," said Percivale, "we lack nothing but Galahad, the best of knights."

CHAPTER VI.

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MAGIC s.h.i.+P.

After Galahad had rescued Percivale from the twenty knights, he rode into a vast forest, through which he journeyed for many days, meeting there many strange adventures. Then fortune took him past a castle where a tournament was in progress, and where the men of the castle had so much the worse of it that they were driven back to their gates, and some of them slain. Seeing this, Galahad rode to the aid of the weaker party, and did marvellous deeds of arms, soon aiding them to drive back their foes.

As it happened, Gawaine and Hector de Maris were with the outer party, and when they beheld the white s.h.i.+eld with the red cross, they said to one another,--

"That hewer of helms and s.h.i.+elds is Galahad, none less. We should be fools to meet him face to face."

Yet Gawaine did not escape, for Galahad came at full career upon him, and gave him such a blow that his helm was cleft, and so would his head have been but that the sword slanted, and cut the shoulder of his horse deeply.

Seeing Gawaine thus dealt with, Hector drew back, not deeming it wise to meet such a champion, nor the part of nature to fight with his nephew.

Galahad continued his onset till he had beaten down all the knights opposed to him. Then, seeing that none would face him, he turned and rode away as he had come, none knowing whither he, who had come upon them with the suddenness of a thunder-clap, had gone.

"Lancelot du Lake told no less than the truth," declared Gawaine, bitterly, "when he said that, for seeking to draw the sword from the stone, I would get a sore wound from that same blade. In faith, I would not for the best castle in the world have had such a buffet."