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The Quest Of The Holy Grail, a fiction by Charles Morris |
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Chapter 1. The Enchanted Castle Of King Pellam |
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_ CHAPTER I. THE ENCHANTED CASTLE OF KING PELLAM After many years had come and gone, and all at the court of Arthur the king had grown older and wiser, there came to pass a series of adventures more marvellous than had ever been known upon the earth before, and of a nobler kind than mere tourneyings and joustings, being no less than the quest of the holy vessel named the Sangreal, in which was kept a portion of the blood of our blessed Saviour, Jesus Christ. And through this quest much disaster came upon the land, and the noble fellowship of the Round Table was broken up and destroyed, for many went in search of the holy vessel who had lived evil lives, and of these few came back, but most of them died deaths of violence. This sacred talisman--the Sangreal--had been brought to England centuries before by Joseph of Arimathea, a follower of our Saviour, and had passed down from him to his descendant, King Pellam, of Listengeise, him whom Balin struck the dolorous stroke, and who was destined to lie in misery and pain until he should be healed of his wound by the winner of the holy vessel. But to tell how this perilous quest began we must go long years back and relate a story of strange adventures and marvellous deliverances. For it had happened that during a feast of Whitsuntide Lancelot du Lake left Arthur's court at Camelot and rode afar in search of adventures. And after a long journey, in which many strange things came to pass, he arrived at Listengeise, the land of King Pellam. Here he rescued the king's fair daughter, Elaine, from a dismal enchantment, under which she had long lain through the wiles of Morgan le Fay and the queen of Northgalis, who hated her bitterly from her renown for beauty. After the rescue of the lady, Lancelot fought with and killed a mighty serpent that haunted a tomb near by, and had done much harm in the land. Then there came to him a dignified and noble baron, who thanked him heartily in the name of the king, and invited him to a repast in the castle hall. But as they sat at table a wonderful thing took place. For in at the open window of the hall there flew a dove, which bore in its mouth what seemed a little censer of gold. And from this censer came such a rich and penetrating perfume as if all the spicery of the world had been there, while upon the table suddenly appeared the most delicious of meats and drinks. Then came in a damsel, young and beautiful, who bore in her hands a vessel of gold, before which all who were there kneeled and prayed devoutly. "What may all this mean?" asked Lancelot in deep surprise. "It has been granted you to see the most precious and wonderful thing in the world," answered the noble baron. "For you have been permitted to gaze upon the holy Sangreal. In the time to come all Arthur's knights shall take part in a quest for this precious talisman, and great shall be the woe therefrom, for through that quest the Round Table fellowship shall be broken up and many of its noble knights destroyed." But all that passed in that land is too much for us to tell. We shall say only that the fair Elaine came to love Lancelot dearly, but he gave her no love in return, for all the affection of his heart was centred upon Queen Guenever. Yet King Pellam so desired that Lancelot should wed his fair daughter that in the end he used enchantment, and brought him to make her his wife when under a magic spell, the deluded knight fancying that it was Guenever whom he had wedded. This delusion last not long, and when the deceived spouse came to his senses and learned how he had been dealt with, he broke away like a madman, and, gaining his horse, rode wildly through the land. And every knight-errant who dared to joust with him was made to suffer from the fury that burned in his blood. Long afterwards, as chance and adventure brought about, there came to King Pellam's castle Sir Bors de Ganis, Lancelot's nephew. He was gladly received, and treated with all the good cheer and honor which the castle could afford. And as he sat at his repast with, the castle lords, there came in, as it had come to Lancelot, the dove with the censer, at which the air was filled with the richest perfume, and the table covered with the most delicious viands. Then entered the maiden with the holy grail, and all fell to their prayers. "Truly," said Bors, "this is a strange place, and a land full of marvels." "This I will say," answered the noble baron who sat in the king's chair, "that of the knights who come here few see the holy vessel, and fewer go away with any honor. Gawaine, the good knight, was here but lately; but he saw not what your eyes have beheld, and he left here in shame. None but those of a worshipful life and who love God devoutly can behold this marvel, or sleep in this castle without coming to harm." "I am in quest of adventures," said Bors, "and shall lie in your castle this night, come what will. Men call me honest and virtuous, and I stand ready to dare all perils the castle may hold." "I counsel you not," said the baron. "You will hardly escape without harm and shame." "Let come what will come, I am ready." "Then I advise you to confess, and go to your chamber with a clean soul, for you will be sorely tried." "Let it be so. Your counsel is wise." After Sir Bors had been confessed and received absolution, he was led into a fair large chamber, around which were many doors, while a bed of royal richness stood in the middle of the floor. Here he was left alone, and threw himself on the bed in his armor, deeming it wise to be prepared for all that might come. Not long had he lain there with open eyes and alert wits, when the room was all at once brilliantly lighted up, though whence the light came he could not tell. And suddenly a great and long spear, whose point burnt like a taper, shot across the chamber without hand to guide it, and struck him in the shoulder so fierce a blow that his armor was pierced, and he received a wound, a hand's-breadth in depth, which pained him bitterly. Quickly afterwards an armed knight strode in, with shield on shoulder and sword in hand, who cried in a harsh voice,-- "Arise, sir knight, and fight with me." "I shall not fail you," said Bors, hot with the pain of his wound. "I am sorely hurt, but I have vowed boldly to dare aught that might come to me. If that burning spear came from your hand you shall pay dearly for it." With these words he sprang from the bed and attacked the intruder, and a hard and stern battle began, which lasted long. At the end the intruding knight was driven backward to a chamber door, through which he passed, leaving Bors master of the floor. But hardly had he rested a minute when the defeated knight returned, as fresh as at the start, and attacked Bors with renewed strength. Again the battle went on fiercely. But when Bors saw his antagonist once more retreating towards the chamber door, he cried out,-- "Not so, my good fellow. You played that trick on me once; you shall not again. Back and defend yourself. If you defeat me it shall be by strength, not by magic." And he stationed himself before the door, and drove back his opponent with such fury, that in a moment more he hurled him to the floor. "Yield, or you die!" he cried, setting his foot on the fallen knight's head. "I yield," came the answer. "What is your name?" "I am Sir Pedivere of the Straight Marches." "Then, Sir Pedivere of the Straight Marches, take yourself away. And if you have any of your fellows behind yonder door, bid them to keep out of this room, for I came here to sleep, not to fight. At Whitsunday next, present yourself at King Arthur's court, and tell him that you have come thither as a prisoner of Sir Bors of the sharp sword." This, Sir Pedivere swore to do, and left his conqueror to what rest he could get. But this was little, for enchantment surrounded the daring knight. The room suddenly became full of frightful noises and alive with peril. Whence they came he knew not, whether through doors or windows, but a flight of arrows and of crossbow bolts filled the air, whistling shrewdly past his ears, while many of them fell upon him and pierced his flesh through the open places in his armor. "Who can sleep in such a den of witchcraft as this?" he cried, in a rage, springing from the bed. As he did so one of the doors opened, and a great lion leaped fiercely in, with a hideous roar. "It is better to fight a lion that one can see, than arrows which nobody shoots," cried Bors, and he rushed without hesitation on the dangerous animal. Sharp was the fight that followed, but of short duration. The lion sprang wildly upon him, and tore the shield from his arm, while the sharp claws rent his flesh. But the knight retorted with a sweeping stroke that cut off the frightful beast's head, and stretched its tawny body lifeless on the floor. Then Bors walked to the window to see whither the arrows had come, and as he looked into the castle court he beheld a wondrous sight. For before his eyes stood a dragon, huge and horrible of aspect, in whose forehead were letters of gold which seemed to him to form King Arthur's emblem. And as he gazed there leaped into the court an old and mighty leopard, which sprang upon the dragon and engaged in desperate battle with the huge monster. At last the dragon spit out of its mouth a hundred of what seemed small dragons, and these quickly leaped upon the frightful beast and rent it to fragments. Then all the animals disappeared, and an old man came into the court, around whose neck two adders wreathed their folds. In his hand was a harp, upon which he played, while he sang an old song telling how Joseph of Arimathea came to that land. When his song was ended he said to Sir Bors,-- "Go from this land, sir knight, for you shall have no more adventures here. You have played your part well and nobly, and shall do still better hereafter, for wondrous things are reserved for you." Then Bors saw a dove of whitest plumage fly across the court with a golden censer in its mouth, from which seemed to stream the most delicious perfumes. And the tempest which had raged in the sky suddenly ceased, while from the rent clouds the full moon poured down its white light to the earth. Next there came into the court four children who bore four tapers, and an old man in their midst with a censer in one hand a spear in the other, and that spear was called the spear of vengeance. "Go to your cousin, Sir Lancelot," said the old man, "and tell him what you have seen, and that if he had been as clean of sin as he should be, the adventure which all this signifies would have been his. Tell him, moreover, that though in worldly adventures he passes all others in manhood and prowess, there are many his betters in spiritual worth, and that what you have seen and done this night he was not deemed worthy of." Then Bors saw four meanly-dressed gentlewomen pass through his chamber, and enter an apartment beyond which was lit up with a light like that of midsummer. Here they knelt before an altar of silver with four pillars, where also kneeled a man in the dress of a bishop. And as the knight looked upward he beheld a naked sword hovering over his head, whose blade shone like silver, yielding a flashing light that blinded him as he gazed. As he stood thus sightless, he heard a voice which said,-- "Go hence, Sir Bors, for as yet thou art not worthy to be in this place." Then the door of that chamber closed, and he went backward to his bed, where he lay and slept undisturbed till morning dawned. But when the regent of King Pellam learned what had happened to his guest in the night, and how he had escaped the perils of the enchanted chamber, he greeted him joyfully, and said,-- "You are the first that ever endured so well that chamber's mysteries. And more has been shown to your eyes than any others have seen. Go home, worthy knight. You are chosen for great deeds in the time to come." Sir Bors thereupon took his horse and rode away, thinking long and deeply on all that had happened to him. _ |
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