Part 5

Then spake the knight Morien and said by his troth he had even followed the hoof prints of horses that were but newly made till he came to where one must needs cross over the water; "and then did I lose all sign of their further track; but howsoever I might pray, or call upon those who lay there in their ships, when they saw me they were terrified as hares, and would tell me nought, the fools, of that I asked them! One and all fled, and put them out to sea. Methinks they were afraid of me. But by the faith that I owe to God and Our Lady, and the honour of knighthood, it shall avail them naught that they thus refuse me; I shall turn again from here, and otherwise take my way; may I but find on shore one of those who were there, and who belongeth to the ships, in sooth he were born in an evil hour! An he carry me not over the water I will thrust him through with my spear, or deal him such a stroke with my sword, that he shall fall dead upon the earth. My heart forbode me that he who went before me was my father! But in all my journey I met no living soul of whom I might ask aught. Then I began to wax fearful, for hunger beset me, and therein I found neither man nor woman, nor aught but heather and waste land wherein I was a stranger. No man might I see or hear, no wheat or barley grew there; 'tis the truth I tell ye, thither cometh no man save that he desire to cross the wide water in the ships that there lie ready. Thus had I my pain for naught. But whatsoe'er befall me since that I have heard from our host, that good man, that my father in sooth rode that way I shall follow hard after, if so be that I may but cross over, and will but await tomorrow's dawn. Since that I have heard he rideth not so far ahead I may well overtake him, an my steed, which is so swift, and strong, and good, foil me not!"

"God speed ye!" quoth Sir Gawain. Such was indeed his counsel, and he sore lamented his own evil plight. But ill had it chanced with him; within the castle had they stolen from him his good sword wherewith he should defend himself. God give him shame who stole it! His saddle-girth, his stirrup-leathers, were cut midway through; as he thought to sit upon his steed they brake clean in twain, and left him standing upon his feet. This did Sir Gawain tell them there, even as ye have heard aforetime. If his heart were heavy when he took count of this, 'twas small marvel!

Then did they wash Sir Gawain's limbs, and he himself searched his wounds. So good a leech might no man find since the day of Mother Eve as was Sir Gawain; whatever wound he tended, 'twas healed even as ye looked upon it!

That night had they all the comfort that the hermit might prepare till that they saw the fair day dawn and the sun begin to rise. Sir Gawain was somewhat troubled, since he lacked alike arms and clothing: also his wounds, which were sore, pained him the more. Nor did there live any near at hand whom he knew, and who might give them what was lacking. Neither bread, meat, nor wine had they; naught remained to the hermit, he had given the knights all his store. Morien's heart was set upon following his father, and Sir Gawain was of a mind to ride in quest of Sir Lancelot, and learn how it had fared with him. He was loth to delay or abide there, for he would fain, so soon as he might ride, fare in search of his comrade. Yet must he tarry a day ere he might mount his steed, such was his stress from the wounds he had received--sooth, it was a marvel that he escaped! And now food had failed them, and that was a sore lack. Even had they money or pledge to offer there dwelt none that side of the border, as they too well knew, but their bitter foes, who had fain wrought them woe. 'Twas seven miles and more hard riding, ere they might find village or fort in King Arthur's land. Hereof was Sir Gawain troubled. He might neither ride nor walk for his own aid. Thus both were ill at ease and sore oppressed.

Morien was loth to remain, yet he thought it shame to forsake his comrade, Sir Gawain, and thus he abode with him in the chapel.

Then as Morien stood by the window, it seemed to him that he saw a knight come riding in great haste, on a horse tall and swift; he was well armed, and seemed a goodly knight withal. Morien spake to Sir Gawain as he lay there. "What may this be? Here cometh a knight, and I know not whither he goeth!"

Sir Gawain abode not still, but went as best he might to the window; he looked upon the knight, and deemed by his armour and the tokens whereby a man may be known of men, that 'twas his own brother, Sir Gariët, the son alike of his father and of his mother. He came riding, as one sore pressed, on that self-same road that led from Britain. The more Sir Gawain looked upon him the more he deemed he knew him; and when he came nigh to the Hermitage he knew well the arms that he bare. Then was Sir Gawain gladder at heart than I may tell ye, for Sir Gariët his brother, that strong and valiant knight, brought with him that of which they were sorely in need, bread and meat, and wine fresh and clear.

'Twas sore need brought him hither, as ye shall now hear: They of Britain had lost King Arthur their lord, and were in sore danger of losing all their land, therefore had they sent Sir Gariët to seek Sir Gawain, and Sir Lancelot, since they twain were without peer, the most valiant knights of the court. Sir Perceval might well be accounted the third, but 'twas not for long that he practised knighthood; nevertheless he brought many into sore stress, even as ye have heard.

When Sir Gariët had come before the hermitage, Sir Gawain came forth with haste from the chapel on to the road, as one who was blithe beyond measure when he beheld his brother; and he said, "God give ye good day, that ye come, brother, and that I see ye! Never was I so joyful of aught, since that I was born."

Sir Gariët alighted on the turf when he saw his brother; and as he came nigh to him he took him in his arms saying: "Alas, brother, woe is me! How hath this so chanced? Methinks ye have suffered harm, and been in such sore strife that 'tis a marvel an ye be healed, and escape with life, ye seem to me in such evil case." Thus spake Sir Gariët. And Sir Gawain said, "I have never a limb but feeleth the smart of wounds, yet am I whole of heart, and shall heal myself right well. But let that tale be, and make known to me the errand upon which ye ride that ye be now come hither. Fain would I know the truth."

Quoth Sir Gariët, "That will I tell ye."

Thus went the twain into the chapel, where they found that good man, the hermit, and Morien, who was black of face and of limb. Then was Sir Gariët somewhat in fear, when he saw him so great of limb and of such countenance. This marked well his brother, Sir Gawain, and he gave him to wit of the knight, and of his name, who he was, and whence he came, ere he asked him aught; for he saw well that he somewhat misdoubted him when he saw the good knight Morien of such countenance.

So sat they down together, and each bade the other welcome, and made much joy of their meeting. But Sir Gawain was more desirous than I may tell ye of knowing wherefore Sir Gariët, his brother, came thither, till he brought him to that point that he spake the truth concerning what had chanced to King Arthur, and told how the worst had befallen him. "King Arthur is taken captive! As he fared on a day to hunt in a great forest, as he was wont to do, there came upon him the greatest company of armed men that I may tell ye of, in these few words, who were all the King of the Saxons' men. They were in such force that they took King Arthur, who foresaw naught of this, and had but few folk with him, as he but went a-hunting. Thereof are his people sore troubled, and the queen above all--she is well nigh distraught in that the king is captive. She knows not whither the folk who took him in the forest have led him, or what may since have befallen him. Thereof is many a heart sorrowful. The forest standeth by the sea shore, whence came the folk who took the king by force, and led him whither they would. They who rode with King Arthur were unarmed, and defenceless; their strength was not worth a groat. Thereto have we another woe; the Irish King hath come into the land, and made war; one town hath he already won, and layeth siege to another. He hath made his boast that he will win all Arthur's land, hill and vale, castle and town (this is his intent), and bring all under his hand ere he quit our land. Of this is the queen sore afraid, and they who be with her, they look not to escape. Had ye, brother, been in the land, and Perceval, and Lancelot, then had we never come to such a pass, for there liveth no man so bold that he durst withstand ye three in any venture that might chance. Now hath my lady the queen taken counsel, and sent messengers far and near into every land to seek ye and Lancelot in this her sore need. And I be one of these messengers, and have ridden as swiftly as my steed might bear me from Arthur's Court hitherward, and ever have I sought tidings of ye, till at length men told me, and I knew that ye twain had come over to this cross, to this parting of the ways. And beyond the border did men tell me that would I ride hither I must fare for long upon the road ere I found a soul, man or woman, who lived, and was of the faith of Christendom. Against this did I prepare myself, and brought with me food, meat and bread, lest I had need thereof, and cool clear wine in two flasks that hang here by my saddle, that I might lay my hand on them when I had need thereto."

Then laughed Sir Gawain the bold when he heard him speak of food, and said that he had come thither in a good hour since they had no victuals, much or little, nor drink there within, nor knew they where they might find any had he brought none with him. But God had thought upon them betimes, and Mary, His Blessed Mother.

Then quoth Sir Gariët his brother, "Let us eat and drink, and begin our meal, as we have need to do--but where is Sir Lancelot, that I see him not here? Sir Gawain, brother, tell me, for fain would I know the truth?"

And Sir Gawain spake, "He rode hence a while ago to seek Sir Perceval."

Sir Gariët answered and said, "That ye vex yourselves thus to seek him, 'tis labour lost, for tidings have come to court that Perceval hath become hermit, and doeth penance for his sins. He hath learnt the truth; did he seek till Doomsday that which he went forth to seek, the spear and the grail, he would find them not; that cometh altogether from his sin against his mother whereas he left her in the forest, and would no more remain with women--then did she die for sorrow. That sin hath hindered him, did he otherwise come upon them, of winning the spear and the grail. He must be pure and clean from all stain, from all sin (so is it now declared for truth) who would have the spear at his will, and the grail. For sorrow at this hath Perceval betaken himself to a hermitage, thereof have tidings come to court, even as he willed that it should be made known. And concerning his brother Sir Agloval, of him did they tell that he lay sick, with his uncle, sorely wounded; but the messenger did us to wit that he was like to be healed, that do I tell ye, Sir Gawain. Now let us eat, and go on our way to the queen with honour, that doth my lady require of ye and of Sir Lancelot, upon your faith to her. But I am sore vexed that he hath thus escaped me!"

When Morien, the son of Sir Agloval, had heard and understood this tale, he asked forthwith if any there within could give him true tidings and make known to him the road to the hermitage whither his uncle had betaken himself, and where his father lay wounded; since he would fain know thereof.

Their host quoth straightway, "He that had a boat at his will and a favouring wind might be there ere even." He said that he knew the hermit; "And 'twixt water and land 'tis a good fifteen mile thither, that do I know for a truth, for oft-times have I heard men speak thereof since I came hither. Now hearken to what I tell ye," (thus he spake to Morien) "over the arm of the sea, there where ye cross, neither more nor less, on the further shore is there a forest, to all seeming the greatest men may wot of, and the wildest--'tis long withal and wide. But as ye come thither, to one side, at the entering in of the forest, they who would seek it may find the hermitage within but a short distance, even as it were the mountance of a mile. Of this be ye sure, with never a doubt."

"So help me God," quoth Morien, "an it fall out according to my will there shall I be ere even. And may I but see my father, an good luck befall me, I turn not from that goal, e'en if I find the man who gave me life, but ere I depart he shall keep the vow that he sware to my mother when he aforetime parted from her, and left her sorrowing sore, even that he would wed her, and make her his wife. Rather would I, ere even, be flayed with a sharp knife than refrain from this. Were he twofold my father he might well be in fear of death, should he fail to keep his oath, and ride with me to the Moorish land." He began to make ready as one who would straightway ride thence.

Then spake Sir Gariët, "An God will, it shall fall out better than ye say, 'twixt ye and your father; we will eat and drink, and I rede ye, an ye be wise, ye shall bethink ye well ere ye do aught save good to your father. I conjure ye by the faith that ye owe to our Lady, and by the honour of knighthood, that ye do my bidding, and let your thoughts be of good, and not of evil, and hearken Sir Gawain's rede, thereof shall never harm befall ye--he shall give ye the best counsel."

And Morien answered that were he fain to do.

Herewith they left speaking of this matter, and Sir Gariët brought forth a napkin, white and clean, and spread it before the knights, as is meet for noble folk, and those worthy of honour. Then he brought forth more than seven loaves, white as snow, that he had with him, and laid them upon the napkin before the knights. He brought forth ham and venison that he had bidden make ready, there, where he had lain over night, since that men told him he drew near to the wilderness whither had gone the knights whom he sought, and who rode before him. Since he was upon their track he had risen long ere 'twas day, and now came thither with the sun-rising. He brought forth also clear wine, two good bottles full. He was not altogether dull in that he had so well bethought him, and brought food with him lest peradventure he have need thereof. 'Twas right welcome to them who now partook of it; and through these good victuals forgat they all their tribulation, as they ate and drank. They were above measure joyful, those three knights, at that time, and with them the hermit, for they would in no wise forget him, but he must eat and drink with them.

When the meal was ended then Morien thought to ride on his way. But the good knight Sir Gariët said, "Sir Knight ye will do better to abide than to depart in this haste, in short while shall ye have trouble an ye seek your father. Follow ye our counsel; 'tis now high day, did ye come in safety to the ships it would be o'er late ere ye came to the other side."

Quoth Sir Gawain his brother, as one wise in counsel, "Knight I will tell ye what ye shall do; from haste cometh seldom good that abideth to honour. Therefore tarry over night with us, since ye may not achieve your goal this day; and I will make ready my weapons as best I may; I must needs be better healed ere I have strength to ride whither I would. Tomorrow shall it fare better with me. Then will we ride, without delay, so soon as it be daylight. If God will I shall be more at ease in limbs and at heart, and I shall have less pain than I have as at this while. I have no mind to abide here behind ye, nor to hinder ye and cause ye to delay when ye would fain ride hence, as I know right well! Here have I foes nigh at hand, who have wrought me harm, and were ready to do yet more did they know me to be here, in this place."

Then did Morien after his counsel, and abode there throughout the night, and told all the adventures that had befallen him. And Sir Gawain made ready his harness and his weapons, and scoured and polished them, and tested them where they were mishandled. But that which grieved him the most was his sorrow for his good sword which he had thus lost, for it was a sword of choice.

What boots it to make long my tale? The morrow as the day dawned, and shed beauty over hill and vale, they rode forth together, and Sir Gawain the Father of Adventure with them. They would not spare themselves. Then said Sir Gawain he would fare in quest of Sir Lancelot who departed with him from court when he left King Arthur, since he might not well, for his honour, return without him. He wist not how it had gone with him; and would fain learn how his venture had fallen out and return in short space, would God prosper him, and bring Sir Lancelot with him to the aid of the queen. On this was his mind set, nor would he do otherwise, for any man's prayer.

With this was Sir Gariët but ill-pleased; he said Sir Gawain would do better to return, and take the place of his uncle, and care for the land and comfort the folk. But this he would not do, howsoe'er he prayed him, but said he must first seek Sir Lancelot, and learn if harm had befallen him. Sir Gariët gave him his sword, which was good and bright; then took they leave, each of the other, for Sir Gawain would not return ere he had spoken with Sir Lancelot, saying that the good fellowship betwixt them twain should not be broken by his default; but that he would bring him again to the court of King Arthur, and keep his covenant.

When they were thus made ready, armed and fittingly clad, they mounted their steeds as they who would ride on their way. They took leave of the good man, their host, and departed thence.

Sir Gawain had chosen his road, and Sir Gariët and Sir Morien bare him company for a space, as it were the mountance of a mile. Each spake his mind to the other. Sir Gawain said he would return with Sir Lancelot as swiftly as he might, and put to shame the folk who had led his uncle captive; and he quoth, "Brother, tell this to my lady the queen, and bear her greeting in all good faith and loyalty. 'Tis not my will that ye ride further, nor tarry longer with me, since 'twill profit ye naught!"

Then Sir Gariët and Sir Morien turned their bridle. They commended Sir Gawain to the care of God and all His saints, and so did he them. Each saw the other's tears spring from their eyes and run down even to their beards when they parted asunder. I may not tell ye how oft and how warmly Sir Gawain thanked Morien, that he had saved his life that day on the field, where he had of a surety been slain had not God and that good knight come to his aid. Now will I here cease speaking of Sir Gawain and tell of Sir Morien. The adventure doeth us to wit that when Sir Morien and Sir Gariët had parted from Sir Gawain, they rode once more to the crossways, for they had made a compact that they should not part before that they had found his father, Sir Agloval. Thus they rode both together, for Morien sware an oath that, would Sir Gariët ride with him, he would e'en pray his uncle and his father to come to the aid of the queen, King Arthur's wife, and help her to win back her land. On this covenant and on this behest would Sir Gariët ride with him and bear Morien company.

As they came to the ships, Morien told him how it had fared with him before when he thought to make the crossing, and he said that he found no living soul among all that he saw there who would let him into his ship, since he seemed to them so huge, and black withal.

"They counted themselves for lost, deeming that I were the devil, and were sore afeard, and put out to sea. Now see, Sir Gariët, what counsel ye may find, and how we may so contrive that we cross the water; doubt ye not that an they once behold me and know me they will straightway set sail again and put to sea. I fear me we may not cross over!"

Quoth Sir Gariët: "By what ye tell me, methinks 'twere better that I ride on ahead, and hire me a ship. Ye shall follow on softly; and let me once come therein, and have my steed aboard and the boatman in my power, he shall not depart hence ere that ye be come thither. May my soul be lost if he do!" Further spake the knight Sir Gariët: "Even should he be beside himself when he first see ye, I shall not let him free ere he have taken us to the further shore, or I shall have from him such forfeit 'twere better for him to be sunken and drowned in the depths of the sea!"

Then answered Morien: "Ye have found the best counsel that may be devised. Now ride ye without delay, and hire us a boat, good and strong, that may well carry us over the water. I shall abide behind, and wait till ye have done your part. I will do even as ye shall counsel!"

Thus they agreed together, and Sir Gariët rode alone till he came to the ships, where he found a boat that pleased him well. He offered the boatman money enow to take him to the further side with no delay. He gave him the gold in his hand, and he made him ready and hoisted sail and rigging. Of this did he swiftly repent. Even as the steed was aboard and all was ready for the crossing came Morien riding, blacker than any son of man whom Christian eyes had e'er beheld. And the boatman was fain to flee when he beheld him and he drew nigh to him, for he had seen him aforetime. He deemed that he should surely die of fear, and scarce might move a limb.

Then Sir Gariët asked him: "Sir boatman, what aileth thee? By Heaven, it availeth thee naught; thou shall ferry us over swiftly. Now make us no ado, or this shall be thy last day. By the Lord who made us, of what art thou afraid? This is not the devil! Hell hath he never seen! 'Tis but my comrade; let him in. I counsel thee straitly!"

Then must the boatman obey, though he liked it but ill. He saw that better might not be: he might neither leap out of the boat nor otherwise escape. So soon as he had in his boat Morien, of whom he was sore afraid, in that he was so huge, and had shipped his steed, which was in seeming over-strong, he pushed the boat from shore and put out to sea. He feared him greatly, even as one who deems that he is lost.

When Morien had sat himself down he did off his helmet of steel. Then the boatman deemed that he was a dead man, and prayed for mercy, beholding his face, for he though he might scarce be a Christian. Sir Gariët asked of him tidings, if there had passed that way two knights, of whom the one bestrode a red horse and wore red armour, and the other bare the badge of King Arthur. If he might tell him aught of them he besought him to do so; an he knew where they yet abode he would give him great thanks.

The boatman said: "'Tis not long since that they were even in my boat; the one knight ware red armour and had with him a red steed, and the other was wounded and bare King Arthur's badge; and I know full well," quoth the boatman, "the knights who bear that badge, by that same token shall ye yourself be one of King Arthur's knights. They would both cross over, and I ferried them to the further side. 'Twas to them an unknown land; that did I hear well from their speech. Methought that they were ill at ease, I wist not wherefore. I saw that the one wept so that the tears fell thick adown his face. And when I had brought them to the other side the knight, who was glad thereof, asked me if I knew where stood a hermitage wherein a hermit dwelt. That did I shew him--no more and no less."