So saying, she pushed on her horse, and thus in silence they went on together.
In a little while they came to a dark wood, and suddenly as they rode, a man with white scared face started from behind a bush and ran to the side of Beaumains.
'Go not that way, sir knight,' he said, 'for there be six knaves who have taken my lord and bound him, and now they will surely take you and your lady unless you go back. I barely escaped with my life, and hid when I heard you, thinking you were of their thievish company.'
'Take me to them!' cried Beaumains, and the poor squire, holding the knight's stirrup-leather, ran with him. And surely, in a little while, three knaves rushed forth before them in the green drive and bade Beaumains stand. But grimly he dashed at them, before ever they could recover. Two he cut down with his good sword as they stood, and the third, trying to escape, was run between the shoulders.
Then turning, Beaumains saw in a glade near the drive where three other knaves stood beside a knight bound to a tree. They dashed towards Beaumains with spiked clubs uplifted. But the squire rushed at one, tripped him up and despatched him; and the others suddenly decided to turn and flee. Their resolution came too late, however, for Beaumains cut them down as they ran.
The knight was quickly released by his squire, and came up to his rescuer, and thanked him heartily for his speedy help.
'Come with me,' he said, 'you and your lady, to my castle, which is but a little way hence, and I will fittingly requite thee for the saving of my life.'
'Nay,' said Beaumains, 'I will have no reward. All I do henceforth is but my duty, and I will take naught in payment. Moreover, I must follow this lady.'
The knight went to the lady, and begged that she would accept his hospitality, for the twilight was deepening and they were yet far from a town. The damsel consented, but, on reaching the castle of the knight, she would not permit Beaumains to sit at the same table with her.
'Take the knave hence!' she cried haughtily. 'He is but a scullion from King Arthur's kitchen, and is not fit to sit with a lady of rank. He is more suited, sir knight, to dine with your turnspits.'
'Lady, I do not understand your words,' said the knight, 'for this gentleman hath proved himself a man of knightly courage and courtesy this day.'
'As for that,' said the lady, 'I count it naught. He took the rascals unawares, and they had no heart. They were but sorrier knaves than he is.'
'Well,' said the knight, 'since you mislike him so, he shall sit with me, and you shall sit alone.'
So it was done, and while the lady sat eating her meal in chilly silence at one table, Beaumains and the knight, his host, laughed and talked merrily over their dinner at another.
Next morning, early, Beaumains and the lady were up and away while yet the dew shone on the leaves. Soon they pa.s.sed through a great forest and approached a wide river. In a little while they rode down to where a roughly paved way ran into the water, and, looking to the other bank, Beaumains was aware of two knights on horseback, stationed as if to hinder his pa.s.sing the ford.
'Now, sir kitchen knight,' laughed the lady mockingly, 'what sayest thou? Art thou a match for these two knights, or wilt thou not turn back?'
'I would not turn if they were six,' replied Beaumains quietly.
With that he rushed, with spear at rest, into the ford, and one of the waiting knights came swiftly against him. They met in the midst with so great a shock that their spears were splintered. They then closed fiercely with their swords, and hurtled about in the foaming, dashing water, beating at each other. Suddenly Beaumains struck the other so hard a stroke on his helm that he was stunned, and fell from his horse into the stream, which whirled him away into the deeps, and there drowned him.
Then Beaumains rode swiftly towards the other knight, who with his lance dashed against him. But Beaumains parried the spear stroke, and with one great heave of his sword, clove the other's helm in twain, so that the knight fell like a stone.
'Alas!' cried the lady, as she came across the ford, 'that ever kitchen knave should have the mishap to slay two such n.o.ble knights! Doubtless thou thinkest thou hast done mightily, sir knight of the turnspit, but I saw well how it all happened. The first knight's horse stumbled on the stones of the ford, and the other thou didst stab from behind.
'Twas a shameful deed!'
'Damsel,' said Beaumains, quiet in words though hot of mind at her words, 'ye may say what ye will. I only know that I fight fairly, as G.o.d gives me strength. I reck not what ye say, so I win your lady sister from her oppressor.'
'Thou knave of impudence!' cried the lady. 'Thee to speak of winning my lady sister, high of rank and rich in wide lands as she is! But thou shalt soon see knights that shall abate thy pride.'
'Whatever knights they be, I care not, so that I win good words from you at last,' said Beaumains.
'Those thou shalt never have, thou churl,' replied the lady scornfully.
'For all that thou hast done has been by chance and misadventure, and not by the prowess of thy hands. But if thou wilt follow me, why, then, come, and I shall the more quickly be rid of thee, for of a surety thou wilt soon be slain.'
Beaumains answered naught, and so they went on their way.
[Ill.u.s.tration: BEAUMAINS WINS THE FIGHT AT THE FORD]
Thus they fared until evensong, and then they came to a waste land, where their way led through a narrow darkling valley. And at the head thereof they entered upon a wide land, black and drear to the very skies, and beside the way was a black hawthorn, and thereon hung a black banner and a black shield, and by it, stuck upright, was a long black spear, and beside it was a great black horse covered with silk, and a black stone fast by it.
And upon the stone sat a knight in black armour, at sight of whom the damsel cried:
'Now, my kitchen knight, 'tis not too late. Fly back through the valley, or this knight will surely slay thee.'
'Nay, I will not,' said Beaumains, 'for I fear him not.'
The black knight came to the damsel and asked if she had brought this knight from King Arthur's court to be her champion.
'Fie!' she said angrily, 'he is no knight. He is but a knave that was fed for alms in the king's kitchen, and would follow me in spite of all I say. And I would that you would rid me of him. To-day he slew two n.o.ble knights at the pa.s.sage of the water, and all by evil chance.'
'A strong knave, in truth,' answered the knight, 'and a saucy one. Then this will I do. He shall leave me his horse and armour, for since he is but a knave, my knightly hands may not harm him.'
'You speak lightly of my horse and armour,' said Beaumains, 'but I will have you know that you get naught from me, and moreover I will pa.s.s these lands with this lady in spite of you.'
'Thou knave!' cried the knight angrily, 'yield me this lady and thyself without ado!'
'Let me see what thou canst do to take us,' replied Beaumains, and laughed gaily.
At this the knight in a rage leaped upon his horse and they thundered together. The black knight's spear broke, but Beaumains' lance pierced him through the side and broke off short. Nevertheless, though badly wounded, the black knight drew his sword and fought manfully, striking Beaumains many mighty blows and bruising him sorely.
But suddenly his lifted sword fell from his hand, and turning in his saddle, he dropped to the ground in a swoon, and shortly died.
And Beaumains, seeing that the black armour was better than his own, armed himself in it with the aid of his dwarf squire, and rode after the damsel.
But ever as before she railed at him, telling him he had conquered the black knight by a cowardly blow; but Beaumains would answer her nothing in anger.
Anon they came to the edge of a vast and dark forest, and from its shadows came a knight in green armour, who cried to the damsel:
'Lady, is that my brother the Black Knight whom ye bring riding behind ye?'
'Nay, sir knight, it is not your brother,' she replied. 'It is but a kitchen knave who by treachery hath slain your n.o.ble brother, the Knight of the Black Lands.'
'Thou traitor!' cried the green knight. 'Now shalt thou surely die, for my brother, Sir Percard, was a most n.o.ble knight and a valiant. And to think that he fell by the dirty hand of a knave is great shame.'
'I am no knave!' said Beaumains, 'but of lineage as high as thine, maybe. And I slew your brother in knightly fashion.'
But the green knight stayed not to answer, and they hurtled together, and clashed midway as if it were thunder. And Beaumains' stroke was so mighty that both the green knight and his horse fell to the ground.
Swiftly the green knight rose to his feet, and then, Beaumains having alighted, they rushed together with their swords, and stood a long time hacking, thrusting and parrying. And each hurt the other sorely.
'Oh, my lord, the green knight,' cried the damsel, 'why do ye stand so long fighting with that kitchen knave? A shame it is to see a proved knight matched by a dirty scullion! Slay him for me and be done!'