King Arthurs Knights | Page 8

his loyal
subjects to attend. When the time came, all the countryside on the
marches of Wales was filled with the trains of noblemen and their
knights and servants gathering towards the city.
As Arthur looked from the window of the palace which the Romans
had builded, and which looked far and wide over the crowded roads,

word was brought to him that six of the kings who had resented his
kingship had come to the city. At this Arthur was glad, for he was full
gentle and kindly, and would liefer be friendly with a man than his
enemy.
Thinking that these kings and knights had come for love of him, and to
do him worship at his feast, King Arthur sent them many and rich
presents. But his messengers returned, saying that the kings and knights
had received them with insults, and had refused to take the gifts of a
beardless boy who had come, they said, of low blood.
Whereat the king's eyes flashed grimly, but at that time he said no
word.
In the joustings and knightly games that were part of the festival of the
coronation, the six kings ever ranged themselves against King Arthur
and his knights, and did him all the despite they could achieve. At that
time they deemed themselves not strong enough to hurt the king, and
therefore did no open act of revolt.
Now it happened, when the feasting was over and many of the kings
and lords had departed home again, that Arthur stood in the door of his
hall that looked into the street, and with his three best nobles, Sir Kay,
Sir Bedevere and Sir Baudwin, he watched the rich cavalcades of his
lords pass out of the town. Suddenly, as he stood there, a little page-boy,
fair of face but for the pitiful sorrow and gauntness upon it, dashed
from the throng of a lord's retinue which was passing and threw himself
along the ground, his hands clutching the feet of the king.
'O King Arthur, save me!' the lad cried, spent of breath, 'or this evil lord
will slay me as he hath slain my mother and my brothers.'
From the throng a tall black knight, leaping from his horse, strode
towards the boy, and would have torn his hands from their hold upon
the king's feet.
'Back, sir knight!' said the king. 'I will hear more of this. Who are you?'

The knight laughed insolently.
'I? Oh, I am one that the last king knew well to his sorrow. I am
Turquine, brother to Sir Caradoc of the Dolorous Tower.'
'What is this boy to you?'
'He is Owen, the caitiff son of a brave father, who gave him to my care
to train in knightly ways. But 'tis a puling fool, more fitting for the
bowers of ladies.'
'Nay, king, he lies!' said the lad who kneeled before the king. 'I am his
nephew. His hand slew my dear father treacherously, and he hath
starved my mother to her death. For our lands are rich while his are
poor, and my father warned me of him ere he died. This man hath kept
me prisoner, used me evilly, starving me and wealing me with cruel
blows daily. I think he hath my death in his heart.'
'I can speak of this thing,' said a knight, who came forth from the
throng. 'I am Sir Miles of Bandon. I know this lad speaks truth, for his
father was mine own dear cousin. This Sir Turquine is a felon knight.'
The brow of the king went dark. He looked from the cruel insolent face
of the black knight to the wan beseeching face of the lad.
'Hark ye!' said Arthur to Turquine, and his voice was terrible, for all
that it was very quiet, 'ye shall answer to me and my justice for any evil
you have done this young boy or his people. When I send for thee,
come at once, or it will be worse for thee. The boy stays with me. Now
begone!'
The big knight looked with hatred and surprise in his eyes, and for a
while said naught. Then, with an insolent laugh, he turned and vaulted
on his horse.
'I may come when thou dost not expect me, sir king!' he said, mocking,
and shot an evil look at the young page.

Thenceforward the young page Owen stayed in the court, doing his
services deftly and quietly, with an eye ever on the king to do his
bidding. One night, when a storm raged and the town lay dark and quiet,
King Arthur sat in his hall. Sir Kay and Sir Bedevere told tales, or the
king's bard sang songs to amuse him, while about them moved young
Owen, noiseless of step,