The Death of King Arthur by Peter Ackroyd

its shade?’
    â€˜So I will. It has a fair shadow. And I have not felt so drowsy for seven years.’
    They dismounted and tied their horses to the trees. Sir Lancelot laid himself down beneath the apple tree, and put his helmet beneath his head. As he slept Sir Lionel kept watch. As he watched, three knights came galloping across the plain as if in fear of their lives. They were pursued by one man alone, but he was the best proportioned and most powerful knight Lionel had ever seen. This mighty knight rode down each of the three knights in turn and struck them to the earth, senseless; then he tied them to the backs of their horses with the reins of their bridles.
    Sir Lionel decided to test his own strength and, even while Sir Lancelot still slept, he mounted his horse and challenged the powerful knight. The man turned and, with his sword drawn, he charged Sir Lionel and thrust him on to the ground. Then he bound Lionel’s wrists and bundled him on to his own horse. The man rode for a little way, with the other three knights helpless on their horses, and then threw all of them into a dark prison where other men lay dead or dying.
    Meanwhile Sir Ector de Maris had learned that Lancelot had left the court in search of noble adventures. Thoroughly ashamed of being left behind, he set off on a similar quest. He had been riding a long time in a deep wood when he met a man who resembled a forester. ‘Fair fellow,’ he called to him, ‘do you know where I might find an adventure?’
    â€˜I know this country well,’ the man replied. ‘If you ride for a mile or two you will find a large manor house with a moat around it; to the side of it there is a ford where your horse might drink its fill. Over this ford there grows a tree, from the branches of which hang the shields of many good knights dead or defeated in combat. There is also a basin, made of silver, hanging there. Strike that basin with the butt of your spear three times. You will see what you will see.’
    â€˜I thank you,’ Sir Ector replied and rode off at once. He came up to the manor house, a dwelling of thick stone; its windows were small and inset, as if the place were a castle. He stopped before it, and then saw the tree by the ford. But what was this? He was surprised to see the shields of many knights of the Round Table hanging from its branches. He took it hard that among them was that of his brother, Sir Lionel, and he promised to himself that he would avenge him. Then he beat furiously upon the silver basin, as if he had gone out of his wits, and led his horse to the side of the ford. Before long he heard the voice of someone calling out to him. He turned, and faced a knight, strong and serious. This was the knight who had pursued and captured the three men upon the plain. His name was Sir Tarquin. ‘Take your horse from the water,’ Tarquin said to him, ‘and prepare to fight me.’
    So Ector galloped towards him and gave the warrior such a buffet with his spear that he spun around with his horse. ‘That was well done,’ the man said. ‘But see what I shall do to you.’ He went for him with sword and spear, bearing Ector out of his saddle and seizing him before he had a chance to escape. Then Tarquin took him into his castle and threw him down upon the floor. ‘You have fought me better than any other knight in these last twelve years,’ he told him. ‘So I will spare your life, on condition that you become my prisoner.’
    â€˜I will never agree to that,’ Ector replied.
    â€˜All the worse for you.’ He stripped him of his armour, and then beat him with thorns before throwing him into the same deep prison where Lionel lay.
    Ector recognized Lionel at once. ‘Dear brother, what are you doing here? And where is Sir Lancelot?’
    â€˜I left him sleeping beneath an apple tree. I do not know what has become of him.’
    â€˜We need his help to deliver