The Death of King Arthur by Peter Ackroyd Page B

himself in a glade where there was pitched a tent of fine red silk. ‘I will rest here,’ he said, ‘until the morning.’ So he tied his horse to the tent, took off his armour, and lay down upon a soft bed that he found there. Soon he was sound asleep.
    The knight who owned the tent came back an hour later. He believed that his lover slept in the bed, so he lay down and kissed the sleeping body. As soon as Lancelot felt the rough beard of a man he leaped from the bed, swiftly followed by the unfortunate knight. They took up their swords, and Lancelot wounded him so badly that he was forced to concede the fight.
    â€˜Why did you come into the bed?’ Lancelot asked him.
    â€˜This tent is my own. I was expecting my lady to be here. But now I am likely to die.’
    â€˜I regret your wound, sir. But I was afraid of treachery. I have lately been beguiled. Let us go into your tent, and I will help you staunch the flow of blood. What is your name?’
    â€˜Belleus.’
    â€˜Come, Belleus.’
    Sir Lancelot was binding the wounds when the lover of Belleus arrived. When she saw the blood she cried out in alarm, and almost fainted in her distress. ‘Be calm,’ Belleus told her. ‘This knight is a good man. He has helped me.’ Then he told her the story of their meeting.
    She turned to Lancelot. ‘Sir knight, from whose court have you come? Who are you?’
    â€˜I am Lancelot du Lake.’
    â€˜I thought so. I have often seen you at Arthur’s court, and I know you better than you imagine. But now I ask you this. For all the dangers Sir Belleus has passed through, and for the wounds he has suffered at your hands, will you make a request to the king? Will you recommend that Belleus join the Round Table? He is worthy of it.’
    â€˜Fair lady, let him come with you to the court at the time of the next high feast. There I will put him forward. If he triumphs in arms, he will be selected.’

The tournament
    When dawn broke Belleus showed Lancelot the direction to the abbey of the white monks. As soon as he arrived there, the daughter of King Bagdemagus came to a window and welcomed him. She led Lancelot into a comfortable chamber, where she urged him to rest. Then she sent word to her father, and the king rode to the abbey with many of his knights. He strode into the chamber and clasped Lancelot in his arms, greeting him with warm words.
    Sir Lancelot explained how he had been beguiled by Morgan le Fay. ‘Your daughter saved me, sir,’ he said, ‘so I have pledged my service to her and all her kindred.’
    â€˜So you will help me on Tuesday?’
    â€˜Willingly. I will not fail you. I am told that the tournament will take place two miles from this abbey. Let me have three of your best knights. Give them shields painted white. Provide me with one, too. We will wait in a small wood close to the field of battle. When I see your followers fighting those of the King of North Wales, I will come out in open combat against the king. Then you will see what kind of knight I am.’ Bagdemagus embraced him again.
    On the following day he sent Lancelot the three knights he had requested, and their shields were painted white. They took themselves off to the wood close to the tournament and there waited their turn. First on the field came the King of North Wales; he had with him one hundred and eighty warriors, together with three knights of the Round Table. They were Sir Mordred, Sir Marhalt and Sir Gahalantine. Lancelot knew them well. You may recall that Sir Mordred was the son of King Arthur himself, fruit of the incestuous union between the king and his half-sister. King Bagdemagus entered the field with only eighty knights, and at the first challenge they were pushed back; twelve of them were killed, with only slight casualties on the side of the King of North Wales.
    So Lancelot gave his men the signal to advance; they rode out together into the