(A sample chapter from the Arthurian tale The Killing Sword.)
© 2011 asotir.
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License.
XII. The Hungry Lady
SO BALYN GAVE to the damsel the truncheon of the spear that Sir Harlews was slain with. She took it with dark eyes and wept upon it.
‘Damsel, I am heavy that your love fell under the safety of my sword,’ said Balyn. ‘Therefore Sir Herlews bade me follow at your lead and get revenge.’
She thanked him. ‘Now I will ready myself to ride with you,’ she said. ‘I knew well the doom that shadowed Sir Herlews, for Garlon rides ever unseen by some art and sets upon those who cannot know he is near. Blame not yourself too heavily, gentle knight.’
So she garbed herself all in lilac, and they rode through the forest, and the lilac damsel bore in her lap always the bloody truncheon of that spear.
The wood grew thick about them and it took them three days to come out of it again. They rode then in strange lands where Balyn had never ventured.
‘I wonder,’ he said, ‘if this is the land where my brother went. In the dream I thought he rode to such a land.’
‘We ride deep in Logres,’ said the damsel with the spear.
Along the way they met a green knight out hunting, and the green knight asked Balyn why he made so great a sorrow.
‘I will not tell you that,’ said Balyn.
‘Now,’ said the green knight, ‘if I were armed as you are, I would fight with you and make you tell.’
‘For that there is no need,’ said Balyn. ‘I am not afraid to tell you.’ So he told him about the treacherous death of Sir Herlews.
‘Ah,’ said the knight, ‘is this it? That is a cause worthy of a quest, and better suited than hunting to a knight who has lived in wars. Here I ensure you by the faith of my body never to depart from you while I live. Together we will find this traitor knight and be revenged upon him.’
So they went to the hostelry and this knight Peryn de Mountebeliard armed himself, and rode forth with Balyn.
And as they came by an hermitage under a churchyard, there came the knight Garlon unseen and struck the green knight through the body with a spear. But again he let Balyn be.
‘Alas,’ said Peryn, ‘I am slain by this traitor knight that rides unseen.’
‘Ah,’ said Balyn, ‘it is not the first despite he has done me.’ And he rode about the hermitage fiercely on his horse, crying out, ‘Garlon! Garlon! Show yourself and fight me like a knight!’ But only the grave-stones answered him.
There the hermit and Balyn buried the green knight under a rich stone and tomb. That night was right dark without moon or stars. And on the morn they found letters of gold written upon Peryn’s tomb, how
SIR GAWAIN SHALL REVENGE
HIS FATHERS DEATH KING LOT
ON THE KING PELLINORE.
And when he looked upon those letters Balyn felt the cold of the morning clutch at his heart. ‘Little can any man choose his doom,’ he said. ‘I have bargained and been paid, and my turn to pay will come.’ And he knelt and bore the Sword in his hands in front of him for to pray, but the words of prayer would not come to him, wherefore he was the more cast down.
Soon after this Balyn and the lilac damsel rode upon the hills of that land until they came to a castle. And that was the first sign of men they had in four days. But they could see no men upon the castle walls. There Balyn alit and he and the damsel with the spear started to go into the castle. But as soon as Balyn came within the castle’s gate the portcullis fell down behind him. And outside the gate many men fell upon the damsel and would have slain her.
When Balyn saw that, his wrath overtook him again and he was sore aggrieved that he might not help his damsel, and he beat the sword against the portcullis to no avail. Then he went up into the tower and leapt over the walls into the ditch, and came to his feet unhurt.
Then he pulled out the Sword and would have fought with those men; but they feared Balyn in his wrath and said, ‘Nay, we will not fight with you, knight! For we did nothing but hold to the custom of this castle.’
‘How is that,’ asked Balyn, ‘it is a foul use to slay fair damsels when they come seeking of your hospitality.’
‘Ah sir knight, but our dear lady is sick, and has lain many years weak and weary and cannot even rise from her bed while the sun is in heaven. And through the night she does but drift about the castle walls, making moan and whispering. And she might not be healed but if she have a dish of silver filled with blood from a clean maid and a king’s daughter. And therefore the custom of this castle is that no damsel shall pass this way but she shall bleed into a silver dish until it be full.’
‘Well,’ said Balyn, ‘if she like, then she shall bleed as much as she may bleed. But I will not let her lose her life while my life lasts. One damsel in my keeping has fallen already and the like shall not come again.’
‘I will gladly offer my blood to this lady,’ said the lilac damsel, ‘if it might heal her of this strange sickness.’
And so they went into the castle, down into the place where the lady lay. And when the even came and the candles were lighted the lady woke and sat up on her bier.
‘Ah,’ she whispered, ‘I am hungry, I am so hungry.’
Then the men brought the silver dish and Balyn made the damsel there to bleed by her good will.
They brought to the lady the dish and held it before her, and she lifted back her veil. And the men helped her to unwind the pale veils from her body so she stood naked for it.
Then she lowered her head to the blood where it lay smoking in the dish. And she thrust out her tongue and lapped the maiden’s blood from the dish. And seeming to feel a surge of strength, as if it worked to heal her, she lifted up the vessel with her thin hands and drank from it greedily, so that it dribbled down her chin onto her bare breasts. But then she trembled and shook from her toes to her shoulders and she fell back down again.
‘No,’ she whispered, ‘this is not the one foretold to come. Ah, I am hungry still.’
Then the men wound their lady up in the veils again and let her moan and weep for pity.
And so Balyn and the damsel with the spear rested there all night, and the men of that castle gave them good cheer and feasted them. They gave them rich chambers and bade them good-night.
Balyn lay upon his bed and might not sleep. For the moonlight through the window was cold and troubling. He slept at last and thought he saw the chamber down below where the lady of the castle slept. Pale and thin she seemed and still as though she never breathed. Then all at once she opened her eyes and seemed to stare at Balyn and he woke.
Even then Balyn heard a cry come from the chamber of the lilac damsel. Wherefore he took up the Sword and ran in his shirt into her chamber.
He found her sitting in the bed and shivering. ‘Damsel,’ he said, ‘what ails you?’
‘Ah Balyn,’ she said, ‘this castle is an ill place to pass the night. I am as pale now as the lady, and so cold I cannot warm myself. And as I lay sleeping a dream came to me, most horrible.’
‘I too have dreamed,’ he said.
‘In my dream,’ she said, ‘I saw a good knight come to this castle with his sister and was welcomed by this hungry lady. The good knight’s sister willingly gave herself to be bled. And they unwrapped the veils from the hungry lady, and took away the gown the sister wore. So they were both naked on the stone.
‘And the lady cut the sister’s throat with a silver knife. And the blood spurted up, so the lady pressed her lips to the wound, and gently kissed and licked at it. And then her flesh grew not so pale as before. She fastened her lips tighter and began to suck, clasping the girl’s body to her and drinking at the wound like a suckling babe until at last I saw her throw back her head and cry out in a loud voice, “I am well again and cured!” And the good knight’s sister crumpled to the floor and lay dead.’
‘This is a foul dream,’ said Balyn.
‘And yet the sister gave her life willingly, and she knew the lady would be made whole from her blood. And when her brother the good knight gathered her up in his arms, he kissed his sister’s brow and smiled upon the lady, as though he too blessed her. But O Balyn, how the moon glares in through the window at me, and blames me that I could not help the lady. Do not go from me this night, Balyn, but lie alongside me for warmth sake. For I tell you there is not but cold for me except from your strong body.’
So Balyn lay by the damsel in her chamber in her bed. In his arms her naked body felt as cold as grave-stones. But as he looked upon her in the moon’s light he found her passing fair. In the small night she woke, and fell tenderly to kissing and clasping him.
Balyn was none averse. He wrapped them both in the furred mantle that the Damsel of the Sword had left him, and he kissed her many times.
