The Death of King Arthur (31 page)

‘As you will, so I will.'

LANCELOT AND GUINEVERE

The Poisoned Apple

After the quest of the Holy Grail was completed, the knights that were left alive made their way back to Camelot. King Arthur and Queen Guinevere rejoiced when they returned to the Round Table. They were most pleased by their reunion with Sir Bors and Sir Lancelot, because they had been away so long.

Then, as the old books tell us, Sir Lancelot began to keep company once more with the queen. He forgot the promise of perfection that he had made on his quest. He had indeed fixed his mind upon the queen even as he pursued the Holy Grail, and as a result he had failed of his purpose. Now that he had returned to Camelot, the two of them were more ardent than ever before. They were lovers again, and the whole court spoke of their affair. Sir Gawain's brother, Agravain, was, as usual, foul-mouthed.

So it transpired that Lancelot sought the company of other ladies to avoid suspicion; he became their champion, and once more he renewed his commitment to Christ. He tried to avoid the presence of the queen, so he might quell the scandal. Guinevere became angry with him as a result, and one day she summoned him to her chamber. ‘Sir Lancelot,' she said to him, ‘I see and feel daily that your love for me is beginning to fade. You take no pleasure in my company. You are always out of court. And you champion the cause of other ladies more than you ever did before.'

‘Ah, madam, my queen,' he replied, ‘you must excuse me. I have a multitude of reasons for my conduct. I was only recently in quest of the Holy Grail, and in that pursuit I saw as many sacred sights as a sinner is allowed to see. If my thoughts had not persistently turned to you, my queen, I would have been vouchsafed the visions permitted to Sir Bors, Sir Percival and Sir Galahad. So do not judge me unkindly. I cannot forget my high service so soon.

‘Also, my lady, you must know well enough that many men of this court speak of our love. Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred, in particular, are waiting for our fall from grace. I fear them more for your sake than for mine. I can ride out and escape the court. You must remain here even when the rumours fly around you. If you stand in peril or disgrace, only I can rescue you. Be clear about this, my lady. Our boldness will bring us shame and dishonour. That is not a fate I wish for you. That is why I serve in the cause of other ladies and noblewomen, to show that I do not favour you.'

The queen stood quite still as he spoke to her. When he had finished, she broke out in tears, crying and sobbing until all her grief was spent. ‘Now,' she said, ‘I know you for what you are. You are a false lying knight, a coward and a lecher. You keep your distance from me, and seek the company of other women. I forsake you. I renounce you. I command you never to come into my presence again. And I order you to leave this court!'

Sir Lancelot left her, in deep dismay. He summoned his relatives – Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris and Sir Lionel – and told them what had transpired.

‘You should not leave this court,' Sir Bors told him. ‘You are needed here. Remember who you are. You are one of the noblest knights in the world, and you will perform many more great deeds. Women, in any case, are fickle and inconstant. The queen will repent her words. Wait and see. My advice to you is this. Ride out to a hermitage near Windsor, where a good knight now pays his devotions. His name is Sir Brastias. Stay there until you hear from me. I promise you that there will be better news in time.'

‘You know well enough, brother,' Lancelot replied, ‘that I am reluctant to leave this country. But the queen has given me such a stern command – '

‘She will change her mind. Has she not been angry with you before? And then forgiven you?'

‘True enough. Well, I will take your advice. I will ride out to Sir Brastias. I will stay in the hermitage until I receive word from you that I can return. I beg this of you, brother. Help me, as far as you can, to regain the love of Guinevere.'

‘You may rely on me, brother, to do my best.'

So Lancelot left the court that day, and no one knew where he had gone – except, of course, his kinsmen. The queen herself showed no outward sign of sorrow. But, as the old books tell us, she suffered much grief in secret. In public, she was resolute. That is why she arranged a dinner in London for twenty-four knights of the Round Table. She wanted to prove that she loved and honoured them all equally with Sir Lancelot. So there was a great feast.

Sir Gawain loved fruit, and in particular he favoured apples and pears. Wherever he dined, he was given them. The queen knew this, and ordered that a basket of fruit be brought to him at table. But he had an enemy at court, by the name of Sir Pionell. Pionell had by secret means managed to poison some of the apples sent up to Gawain towards the end of the meal. But, as fortune would have it, another knight picked up one of the poisoned apples and proceeded to eat it. This knight, Sir Patrise by name, fell dead in the throes of agony.

The knights leaped up from the table, enraged at this desperate crime. Their eyes turned to the queen. It was she, after all, who had arranged this feast and who had sent up the apples to Sir Gawain. ‘Madam,' Gawain said, ‘you know well enough that this dinner was intended for me and my fellows. Everyone knows, too, that I love fruit. Now I see that I was close to being killed. What do you have to say?'

Guinevere was so alarmed and abashed that she simply stood there and said nothing.

‘This cannot end here,' said Sir Mador. ‘ I have lost one of my kin. Sir Patrise was my cousin.'

They were all silent, looking at the queen. She simply wept and sighed, still unable to speak. Then she fell into a swoon. King Arthur was informed, and came at once into the chamber where the meal was held.

Sir Mador saluted him. ‘My lord,' he said, ‘I hereby appeal Queen Guinevere for treason.' In those ancient days, many crimes were comprised under the name of treason, for which the punishment was death at the stake.

The king was dismayed. ‘Fair lords, I am distressed at the news of this fresh trouble. Yet I must be a rightful judge. I must not take sides. I cannot do battle for my wife, therefore, although I do not believe her to be guilty of this crime. I trust that some good knight will come forward on her behalf. I do not want to see her burned without cause. Therefore, Sir Mador, be not so hasty. I do not believe my queen to be without friends. Name some day of battle. We will see who will champion her cause.'

‘My gracious lord,' Sir Mador replied, ‘you must excuse my words. But we are all bound by the rules of knighthood. You are a king, but you are also a knight. At the risk of incurring your displeasure I must tell you that not one of the knights here will defend her. They all suspect her.' He turned to the company. ‘What do you say, my lords?'

They all agreed that there seemed to be no excuse for the queen. Either she, or one of her servants, must have poisoned the fruit. Guinevere had by now revived, and wept when they condemned her. ‘In the name of Jesus,' she said, ‘I swear that I arranged this feast with no evil intent. I have done nothing wrong.'

‘My lord king,' Mador said, ‘I require you, as a righteous ruler, to set the day when I may find justice.'

‘Be ready then, Sir Mador, in fifteen days' time. Ride to the great meadow beside Winchester, fully armed for battle, and there wait for the knight who will confront you in the queen's name. God will grant you justice. If no knight is ready to meet you, then my queen must be burned at the stake. There is no more to say.'

‘You have spoken well, sire.'

When the king and queen were alone together, he asked her what she knew of the poisoned apple. ‘Nothing at all. As God is my witness, my lord, I played no part in it.'

‘If only Lancelot were at court,' Arthur said. ‘He would do battle on your behalf.'

‘I do not know where he has gone,' Guinevere replied. ‘But his kinsmen say that he has ridden out of this realm.'

‘Then we have lost our most loyal knight. I advise you, therefore, to approach Sir Bors and ask him to be your champion in the place of Lancelot. He cannot refuse. I know well enough that the other knights who attended your dinner will not fight for you.' Guinevere set up a lament for Lancelot. ‘Why has Lancelot left us?' he asked her. She could not say. ‘It is a matter of regret,' he said. ‘With Lancelot on our side, we would fear no harm. Hurry now, my queen, to Sir Bors. Beg him to help you.'

So Guinevere went to Sir Bors, and asked him to do battle for her. ‘What would you have me do, sovereign lady?' he replied. ‘I was also at the dinner where Sir Patrise was killed. If I fight on your behalf, I will incur dishonour. My fellows may believe that I colluded with you in that crime. Do you see now how much you miss Sir Lancelot? He never failed you, and he rescued you from many dangers. You have driven him out of the kingdom, and reduced the honour of our court. How can you ask me now for a favour?'

‘Alas, good knight,' she replied, ‘I know my fault. I beg your forgiveness. I will perform any penance you ask of me.' She fell down on her knees. ‘Have mercy on me, Sir Bors. Otherwise I will die a shameful death.'

The king came into the chamber at this moment, and found his wife kneeling before the knight. Sir Bors gently lifted her up. ‘Alas, my queen,' he said, ‘you do me grave dishonour.'

‘Ah, gentle knight,' Arthur exclaimed, ‘have mercy on my queen! She has been defamed. I am certain of it. So I ask you on her behalf. Do battle for her. For the love you owe to Sir Lancelot, stay loyal to her.'

‘My lord,' Sir Bors replied, ‘no greater request could be made of me. If I fight for the queen, I will forfeit the love and respect of the Round Table. Nevertheless, for the sake of Sir Lancelot and yourself, I will take up the challenge on that day.' Then he paused. ‘Unless a greater knight than I decides to do battle for her.'

‘Will you promise me this on your faith?'

‘Yes, sir. I will not fail you. But if a better knight comes to the field, he will take my place.'

The king and queen were of course delighted. But Sir Bors was pleased for another reason. On the next day he rode out to the hermitage where Sir Lancelot was hiding, and told him what had occurred.

‘Jesus be praised,' Lancelot replied. ‘This has turned out better than I expected. Make yourself ready for battle, Sir Bors. Then wait on the field until you see me approach. Try to arrange a delay. Sir Mador is an impatient man. The longer you postpone the combat, the more headstrong he will become.'

‘Let me deal with him,' Bors replied. ‘All will fall out as you wish.'

Sir Bors returned to Camelot, where the whole court soon learned that he was ready to do battle for the queen. The other knights were displeased with him, as he had predicted, because they believed in her guilt. In all humility he approached them. ‘Fair lords,' he said, ‘it would reflect on us all if Queen Guinevere was to suffer shame. Consider who she is. Consider the noble king to whom she is married.'

One of them replied for them all. ‘We all love and respect our king. Of course we do. But we do not love or honour the queen. She has long been known as a destroyer of knights.'

‘Oh? This is the first time I have ever heard her described in that way. She has always been known to maintain good knights. She has been generous and bounteous in her gifts to us. She has always been gracious. So I say it again. It would shame us all if she were to suffer a shameful death. I will not allow it. I tell you that she had no part in the death of Sir Patrise. She had no reason to destroy him, or the rest of us who came to her dinner. She invited us out of good will, not out of wickedness. I do not doubt that this will soon be proved, and that the real murderer will be revealed.' Some were reassured by his words; others remained hostile to the queen.

On the evening before the battle, Queen Guinevere summoned Sir Bors. ‘Are you still well disposed towards me?' she asked him. ‘Will you still be my champion?'

‘Of course. As I said to you before, sovereign lady, I will do battle on your behalf. I will decline only if a better knight takes your part.'

On the following morning the king and queen, together with the entire court, assembled on the great meadow outside Winchester. The queen was taken into the charge of a constable, and a great fire started around an iron stake; if Sir Mador was the victor, that was the place of her burning. It was the custom. No rank, not even that of royalty, could escape it.

Sir Mador and Sir Bors walked together up to the throne and presented themselves to the king.

‘I am here to accuse the queen of treason,' Sir Mador told him. ‘I will prove it in combat against anyone who says the contrary.'

‘I am here to fight for the innocence of the queen,' Sir Bors said. ‘I will prove it in battle.'

‘Then make yourself ready,' Mador told him. ‘Let us put it to the proof.'

‘I know you to be a good and brave knight,' Sir Bors replied. ‘I do not fear you. But I have made a promise to my sovereign lord that I will remove myself from battle if a better knight comes forward.'

‘Is that all you have to say, sir? No more words. Let the battle begin.'

‘Take your horse on to the field then. I will follow you shortly.' So they both made their way back to their tents, and armed themselves. Sir Mador rode out first. ‘Tell your champion to come forth!' he cried out to Arthur. ‘That is, if he dares to meet me.'

Sir Bors felt shame at this taunt, and so he rode towards the lists. But at that moment he saw a knight riding on a white horse from the wood beside the meadow. This knight galloped up to him, and called out so that everyone might hear. ‘Fair knight, do not be displeased. I am the better knight, and I have come a long way to fight this battle on behalf of the queen.'