THE ADVENTURE IN GUINEVERE’S CASTLE
Marmie decided it was grip, after the usual remedies had had no effect
whatever on the generally wretched feeling that made both Rose and Ruth
as miserable as wet kittens.
“I feel as though I had been broken to pieces and then put together
again all wrong,” Ruth told her sister, as they lay in their little
white beds, and Rose coughed and sneezed something that sounded like “So
do I.”
However, this terrible sensation lasted only a couple of days. After
that they began to weary of staying in bed. The sun was bright outdoors,
and they could hear exciting noises downstairs, and at mealtimes Marmie
and Dad laughed several times, but when the girls wanted to know what
all the fun had been, Marmie couldn’t remember at all.
“Why, we didn’t laugh any more than we ever do, dears. Indeed, I thought
we were rather glum.”
“Can’t we get up, Marmie?”
“Perhaps for a bit to-morrow. But just stay quiet to-day and get strong.
You’ve had fever, you know.”
And she piled their beds with toys and books, and went away to attend to
other things, leaving a big bell within reach so that either of them
could ring if anything was wanted.
But they didn’t feel like playing or like reading. It seemed as though
the bedclothes smothered all the fun out of that sort of thing.
“Why are people sick?” asked Ruth, fretfully.
“Probably to make them appreciate being well. Just think how we go on
almost all the time bursting with health, and never stop to like it.”
“I do like it,” Ruth returned indignantly.
“But just the way you like to breathe, without thinking about it. Now we
think about it, though. Golly, I’d like a big piece of pie this minute.”
They both sighed.
“Well, well, well!” exclaimed that raindrop-falling voice they loved so
much to hear. “What’s all this woe?”
“Oh, Fairy, Fairy Honeysqueak! We’ve been sick, but we’re better. How
perfectly splendid of you to come. We were just wishing we could do
something besides lie here and think about good things to eat we can’t
have. Can you take us on an adventure? Or can’t we go till we are well
again?”
Rose had poured out these questions and explanations in a breath, and
when she stopped Honeysqueak laughed in her most delicious fashion.
“This being ill is one of the absurd ways of mortals that I simply
cannot understand,” she said, finally. “But I don’t believe there’s much
sickness in you two any longer. Certainly not enough to keep us from
going on an adventure. Indeed, that’s what I came for. And as I want to
see an old friend of mine, _I’m_ going to choose this time.”
“And where will you choose to go? Darling fairy, tell us, because we
want to know who your old friend is.”
“I’m going to take you to see little Guinevere, and have a chat with old
Merlin myself.”
“Queen Guinevere?” gasped Ruth.
“Well, she isn’t queen anything yet, because she’s only a little girl.
But she lives in a castle, and her mother’s a queen.”
“Hurry up and let’s go,” begged both the excited girls, stretching their
hands toward the sound of Honeysqueak’s voice.
Her tiny hands slipped into theirs, and immediately their eyes closed.
Off they floated ... floated ... thump!
Before them a huge grey arch of stone curved into the air, barred by a
great iron gateway. Through the bars of this gate they could see a moat
full of dark water, and hanging in the air, or so it seemed, was a
bridge.
“Blow the horn hanging by the gate,” said the voice of Honeysqueak.
“Why, you haven’t gone this time, fairy, have you! How lovely! Will you
stay with us all through our visit?” asked Rose delightedly.
“I’ll be about,” returned the fairy. “You see, they are all used to
fairies here, and one more or less won’t matter. But blow the horn.”
Ruth had found the horn while Rose talked, a golden bugle hanging from a
ring in the stone arch; now she set it to her lips and blew with all her
might.
At once the barred gate rose upward, while the bridge fell. The way lay
straight across the moat. But all this while never a man showed himself.
The girls walked rather fearfully across the bridge, for they weren’t
sure that it might not spring up into the air again and shake them off.
It remained quiet, however. On the further side a strip of greensward
separated the moat from the wall of a castle. The castle was built with
two round towers and a square middle portion, in which a huge and heavy
door of wood strengthened with bands and bolts of iron, with a small
window in the upper part, frowned inhospitably. A kind of bronze gong
hung beside this door.
“Strike the gong,” said Honeysqueak.
[Illustration:
THE YOUTH, DISMOUNTING, WALKED SLOWLY TOWARD GUINEVERE
]
This time Rose stepped forward, took up an iron hammer that rested on
the ground, and struck the gong a couple of resounding thwacks. The
hollow tumult that ensued rolled on and on, first gathering strength,
then diminishing, then once more swelling into a perfect sea of sound;
it seemed as though all the echoes in the world had collected there, and
were playing with the voice of the gong.
“My crikey,” murmured Rose.
And then the door swung slowly open. In the entrance stood a mighty man
dressed in chain armour, over which hung a splendid silken tunic of
scarlet with embroideries in gold. A sword hung at his side, the visor
of his helmet was closed, and in his hand he held a spear.
“Who comes?” he asked gruffly.
“Friends of the great Merlin,” answered the voice of the fairy. “Let us
pass.”
“Ye are welcome,” answered the knight, stepping aside. “Enter.”
So the two sisters walked hand and hand into the castle, the knight
going on before. He led them into a lofty room hung with tapestries,
with rushes strewn over the floor. High windows with thick glass in
small irregular panes let through a soft light, and working near them at
a great frame on which was stretched a piece of embroidery, sat a young
girl. Her long golden hair curled down her back, while on top of her
head she wore a sort of cap of threads of pearls. Her dress was straight
and narrow, of shining white with silver threads, a golden chain hung
round her neck, and there were bracelets on her arms. Rose and Ruth
looked at her in wonder. Never had they seen a fairer sight.
“Princess Guinevere,” said the knight, bowing low, “here are friends of
the great Merlin. I brought them here, according to thy command.”
“Ye are right welcome, princesses,” said Guinevere, smiling sweetly, and
coming forward. “I trust ye are not weary with travel ...” and she
clapped her hands together lightly. At once two maidens entered,
carrying bread and honey and milk, which they placed on a table. In the
meanwhile Guinevere had taken each of the girls by the hand and now she
led them to two stools by the table.
“Will ye not eat and refresh yourselves?” she said.
“Thanks, Princess Guinevere,” replied Rose. Ruth was too thunderstruck
at finding herself a princess to say anything. Looking at Rose and
herself she found they were dressed much as Guinevere, except that
instead of white she wore a gold-coloured silk, and Rose a lovely
lavender embroidered with palest green. In spite of her astonishment she
set to heartily at the bread and honey, as did Rose.
“Merlin told me ye would arrive to-day,” Guinevere continued. “And fain
am I to see ye. There have been strange doings in the castle, and I wot
well that ye can help me if ye will. The King, my father, is away on a
quest, and except for the knight ye saw and my maidens I am alone. Sure
are we that there is some enchantment afoot, for yesternight there were
strange sounds throughout the castle, and this morning at cockcrow a
loud voice summoned all my knights, one by one by name, to come and do
battle. They rode out, armed and with drawn swords in their hands, and
vanished forthwith, nor have we seen ought of them since.”
“Good gracious, I should think some of them would have stayed here to
look after the castle,” ejaculated Rose.
“It would scarcely beseem them to refuse battle,” returned the Princess,
“and the castle is safe from attack. Unless there be evil enchantment at
work. But Merlin will soon be here, and there is none so great in magic
as he.”
“It would be too bad if he didn’t come,” Ruth said, as she admired the
golden chain that hung round her neck and reached as far as her waist,
“for the fairy came especially to see him.”
“What fairy?”
“Our fairy. Fairy Honeysqueak. You know she brought us, and she said she
wanted to have a chat with Merlin.”
“Ah,” said Guinevere. “Perhaps she too will help my knights and me.”
“I guess so. But couldn’t we do something?” It was Rose that wanted to
know.
“Let us go up into the tower and watch,” replied Guinevere. “Possibly
some knight sore beset might fly back here, and it were well to be
prepared to give him speedy ingress.”
So up into the tower they went, by a winding stairway, narrow and
slippery, so worn were the stones of which it was built. Every few steps
a long slit in the wall gave a glimpse of the outdoor world, a shimmer
of blue and green, a flash of meadow or a glint of water shining in the
sun. And presently the three girls emerged on top of the turret and were
able to overlook the country between the battlements that formed a
screen behind which they could keep hidden.
It was a strange sight for Rose and Ruth.
A great forest stretched on three sides of the castle, beyond the square
enclosed by the moat and the high wall. This forest was open, however,
with grassy glades, and you could see far into the green, shadowy
expanse. On the fourth side stretched a rolling meadow, through which a
stream meandered, while far away a lake lay gleaming. But what was
strange was not forest or lake or meadow, but the fact that, wherever
the girls looked, they saw two knights in furious combat.
In one of the glades a large knight in black armour was hacking
frantically at a smaller knight, who wore a scarlet sleeveless sort of a
jacket over his armour. The smaller knight didn’t seem to mind the blows
showered upon him, but whacked back in good measure, rising in his
stirrups and whirling his sword with both hands. The horses stamped and
circled, kicking up the dust.
These two were the nearest, but in all the glades and scattered about
the meadows were other combatants, and always a knight in scarlet fought
a knight in black.
“Yonder are my knights, the noble lords in scarlet,” Guinevere informed
them. “Would Merlin were here to help us.”
“Here is Merlin, Princess.”
Rose and Ruth turned quickly toward the new voice. There stood a fine
looking old man with a long sweeping grey beard, and singularly bright
and piercing eyes that shone under heavy eyebrows. He was wrapped in a
long black cloak embroidered in many colours with strange figures, and
on his head was a close-fitting cap of black velvet.
“Oh, Merlin,” cried Guinevere, “what does this mean, this calling forth
of all my knights to do battle with these black warriors? And see them
fighting in a circle, nor can I mark that one among them all hath the
advantage.”
Merlin shook his head slowly.
“It has taken all the powers of my magic, lady, to prevent thy knights
from being overborne. There is a wicked and fierce queen, called by the
name of Carla of the Quaking Pool, who hath laid a spell upon this
castle and all those who would fight for thee. And unless some one come
soon to our succour, I do fear ...” and again he shook his grey head.
“What, Merlin, thou afeard?” asked a voice, and Rose and Ruth were
rejoiced to recognise the Fairy Honeysqueak. “’Tis not like thee. Who is
this wicked queen that she should so prevail upon thee?”
“She is a sister to the Lady of the Lake, but she is evil,” returned
Merlin, sadly. “But right glad am I to see thee again, my lady fairy.
Wilt thou not give me help in this danger?”
“I had come hoping for some quiet talk with thee, Merlin, but it is not
to be,” said the fairy. “What with this danger and thy weakness. Yet
help cometh.”
“It is sore needed,” returned the wizard. “See, even now, my magic
avails little.”
Rose and Ruth, looking eagerly between the protecting walls, saw that
the ring of red champions was weakening. One by one they began to give
way, though still fighting desperately.
“Lordy!” exclaimed Rose, breathlessly, “just look at the fearful whacks
that big black Knight is giving to the little red one—there, he nearly
got him down that time. Can’t we do something? It seems awful to stand
here and watch our soldiers getting the worst of it.”
At this moment there was a great shout from all the black knights, and
with the roar of that shout the red knights dropped their weapons, or
fell from their horses, or stumbled, if they were afoot, and fell to the
ground. It seemed indeed as though some bad magic were at work.
Merlin groaned, and Guinevere began to sob. Ruth looked frantically
round for the fairy, forgetting she could not be seen.
“Fairy, can’t something be done?” she cried.
“We’re doing all we can,” returned the voice of the fairy, and it seemed
to be a sort of gasp, as though she were indeed straining every power
she had.
At this moment a number of damsels ran from the forest and gave each of
the red knights something to drink from a shining goblet. At once these
fell to with renewed strength, laying on so lustily with their swords
that the black warriors were now forced back.
“See, see, they’ve got their chance now,” Rose yelled, jumping up and
down in her excitement. “Oh, Guinevere, let’s run down and see what we
can do, if those other girls can help that much.” And with the word she
turned and began racing down the spiral stairway as fast as she could
go.
Ruth followed without a second’s pause, and after her came Guinevere,
though Merlin called out something as she vanished from the roof that
sounded like “beware!”
The three girls soon found themselves outside the castle. At a word from
the Princess the solitary knight let down the drawbridge, and raised the
portcullis. Out ran the three, and turned to the little glade where the
red knight was fighting so doughtily with his huge antagonist.
But what was their astonishment to find no one there at all. Everything
looked quiet and peaceful, there was not even a broken grass-blade to
mark the spot of the desperate encounter.
Rose and Ruth stared, bewildered. But Guinevere trembled.
“This is magic,” she whispered. “Let us return forthwith to the castle,
Lady Princesses. If it be not too late.”
They turned, but the forest seemed to have closed in upon them, and the
castle could not be seen.
Hand in hand they made their way along a path that appeared to lead in
the direction where the castle must be. Presently they reached a
crossing. Here an old man was sitting.
“Tell us, kind sir, which is the right pathway toward the castle?” asked
Guinevere.
The old man mumbled a few indistinct words, and waved with his hand
toward the left. So thanking him, the three young damsels proceeded on
their way. But they had not taken three steps before a voice called to
them faintly to turn back. And Rose felt sure the voice was that of the
fairy.
“I think so too,” said Ruth. “Let us turn as she says, Princess
Guinevere.”
Guinevere consented, so the three turned back. And no sooner had they
done so than they saw the castle, but it looked a great way off.
When they reached the spot where the old man had been, he was no longer
there.
With the castle in sight, they pushed along as fast as might be, their
hearts thumping anxiously. What a bewildering business it was! Rose and
Ruth felt as though they were walking on quicksand, everything seemed so
uncertain.
“But what has become of all the knights?” Ruth wanted to know.
And then one appeared, the big black knight, right in the middle of the
path. And he smiled full evilly upon the three.
“Welcome, Princesses,” he said. “Yet it meseems that three fair damsels
should not be wandering thus unattended through the Perilous Forest.”
And again he smiled.
As Ruth told her sister later, that smile felt like an icicle slipped
down her back.
Then he set a horn to his lips and blew a shrill call. The girls shrank
together, looking anxiously around. No sooner had the echoes of that
call died to silence when two other knights in black armour rode up.
Bending from their saddles, the three each grasped one of the maidens,
swung them to the horses’ backs, and set off full tilt into the forest.
Rose saw Ruth before her, bobbing up and down, and looking back as well
as she might could catch a gleam of Guinevere’s bright hair as she was
carried along by her captor. She could not see much of her own knight,
for his visor was down and he was all covered up in his armour and a
black cloak that streamed behind him as they rode.
“Help, Merlin, help!” called Guinevere, but her cries were suddenly
stifled, as though the knight who bore her before him had covered her
mouth. He was the big knight who had first halted them.
Rose felt angry. It seemed to her that Merlin really ought to do
something for them, something that would count.
“Dear fairy,” she whispered, “what shall we do?”
And immediately the fairy’s voice came clear and sweet.
“Keep your courage,” it said. “If you don’t get frightened, everything
will come out right. But no one can help you if you are afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” replied Rose sturdily. And with the words she felt a
glow run over her, chasing away the chill that had struck into her very
vitals when the knight dragged her up in front of him. “We’ll beat
them,” she added, and laughed.
Just then the knight who rode ahead with Ruth drew rein, checking his
steed. Looking by him Rose saw that the way was blocked by a knight in
red.
Instantly the three black knights dropped their captives to the ground
and prepared for battle. Ruth and Guinevere joined Rose, their eyes
shining.
“We mustn’t be frightened,” whispered Rose. “The fairy has just told me.
There they go...!”
Bang! The first of the black knights spurred his horse straight at the
red knight, who set his spear in rest, and charged to meet the
onslaught.
Over went the black knight and lay still on the ground.
The two sisters gave a shout of triumph.
“One!” cried Rose, just like the Count of Monte Christo in the play.
And then, to their amazement, the red knight turned his horse and rode
away at full speed.
“Something’s wrong,” declared Ruth. “What does he act like that for?”
She looked to Guinevere to explain, but the young Princess shook her
head sadly.
In the meanwhile the other two knights had run to see whether their
comrade were yet alive. But he lay dead, with the red knight’s spear
head in his throat.
Then the big knight took Guinevere, while the second knight swung both
Rose and Ruth to the saddle of the dead knight’s horse, and once more
they set off in a wild gallop.
Presently the way was again barred by a knight in red, and this time he
too killed the knight who fought him, and then made off at top speed.
Now only the big black knight remained. Grimly he put the three girls on
the two free horses, driving them before him through the forest.
The shadows were growing long now, for the sun was climbing down the
western slope of the sky. The three girls rode silently, watching
eagerly to see if a new champion would not come to meet them. Soon
indeed one came crashing through the trees, and silently opposed the big
knight.
This time, however, after a dreadful crashing and smashing, the black
knight threw the red one to the ground. Leaping from his horse he rushed
to his fallen foe, drawing his sword. Before he reached him, however,
the red knight vanished. They mounted and rode on, and once again the
same thing happened, and the girls began to feel afraid, though they
struggled against it, while the big knight cursed wickedly.
Then suddenly an old man stood before them. As they gazed at him, they
saw it was none other than Merlin.
Lifting one hand, he stayed the big knight.
“Ride no farther, rash knight,” he said, in a deep voice. “My magic has
prevailed, and thou goest but to thy doom.”
The knight answered with a short, contemptuous laugh.
“Out of the way, old fool,” he ordered. “Thinkest thou to stop me when I
have laid two of thy knights low this very half hour?”
“Leave these damsels here with me, and thou shalt go free with thy
life,” answered Merlin. “One awaiteth thee who wilt surely slay thee.
Yet would I liefer that he and the Princess Guinevere should not
meet—for that meeting reads darkly in the book of Fate.”
“Out of my way, or ’twill be the worse for thee!” shouted the knight
fiercely. With the words he put spurs to his horse and charged upon
Merlin. But the old man had disappeared.
Once again he drove the horses with the girls upon them before him. And
the day darkened.
Then, in the path, Rose, who sat in front of Ruth on the leading horse,
saw a new champion sitting on a great black horse. But he himself looked
to be no more than a youth, slender and wearing no armour, though on his
arm was a shield and in his hand a sword that shone in the shadow like a
streak of lightning in a black sky.
“Loose those damsels, false and caitiff knight,” cried this youth, in a
clear voice. “And set thyself to thy defence, or thy hour has come.”
But when the black knight saw the mere boy who opposed him he laughed
aloud.
“Child,” he cried, “I will crush thee in my bare hands ... dare ye
oppose me!”
Without waiting for further parley the youth rode forward, while the
girls drew aside with heavy hearts, for they hated to see this young man
killed by their fierce captor. And how he could help being killed, after
the success of this huge knight with stronger fighters, they knew not.
But the youth was stronger than he looked, and swift and brave beyond
any imagining. He managed his horse so wonderfully that again and again
he escaped a mighty blow aimed at him by the black knight, and landed
immense buffets upon that proud man. On and on they fought, breathing
hard, uttering short exclamations. And ever the youth got his shield
between the sword of the black knight and his body, and ever he rained
blows on his adversary like winter rain.
Rose and Ruth and Guinevere sat looking on, trembling with terror of a
sort, though they were too excited to feel really afraid. And suddenly
they saw the youth rise in his stirrups and bring his blade down on the
casque of the black knight with so mighty a blow that it was split
asunder, and with a frightful crash the knight fell dead upon the
ground.
The youth, dismounting, walked slowly toward Guinevere. The girls saw
that he was very pale, and that he staggered as he walked.
“It is a great joy to have saved thee from this evil man, lady,” he
said, in a weak voice. “And now I pray thee to tell me of some holy man
nearby, who will help me of my wounds, for I am sore hurt.”
“Come with me into my castle, where my maidens and I will tend thee
carefully, fair youth,” returned the Princess. “Right gallantly hast
thou fought, never so young a knight did so valiantly before this. How
may I thank thee?”
“I require no thanks—joy enough it is to look upon thee and to have
served thee,” returned the youth. “But let us e’en hasten, for I am
passing faint.”
Then, to the great relief of Rose, who feared that the boy would die
before they could possibly get back to the castle, she saw that they
stood in the meadow before the walls. The gate was open, and a stream of
knights in red armour was riding hastily toward them. In a few moments
the youth was lifted to the saddle of one of these knights and the whole
cavalcade, conducting Guinevere and the girls, rode into the donjon
keep.
Merlin met them looking grave.
“It was not well, Princess, to leave this castle,” he said. “Now that
has happened which cannot be gainsaid. But at least my magic has
prevailed, with the help of my friend, the fairy. And now to assist this
noble lord.”
With his wand he touched the face of the youth, who lay in a swoon,
supported by a knight. At once the young hero opened his eyes and stood
up, healed of his hurts.
Gravely he looked into the eyes of the princess, who returned his gaze
with steady eyes in which tears shone, however.
“Thou hast saved me from I know not what of evil,” she whispered. “Wilt
thou not tell me thy name, fair youth?”
“My name is Lancelot,” answered the youth. And Merlin sighed.
The princess took a knot of ribbon from her dress, and gave it to her
rescuer.
“Sometime we shall see each other, when we are both older,” she said. “I
feel this to be true. Do not forget me, noble Lord Lancelot, and know
well that I shall keep thee secure in my heart and memory.”
“The mischief has begun,” murmured Merlin, but no one noticed the old
man.
With another long look at Guinevere, Lancelot turned and walked lightly
from the hall; the knights and ladies watched him as he mounted his
steed, which waited at the doorway. Once in the saddle, he turned to
look again at Guinevere, who was watching him with shining eyes. First
lifting the ribbon to his lips, he bowed his head, and thrust the knot
into the bosom of his embroidered doublet. Then he swung his horse to
the right about, and sprang away into the purple evening.
Guinevere stood silent, her hands pressed to her heart.
“Come,” said the fairy, “we must go. I’ve had a good deal of anxiety
to-day, and I want to get home.”
With the words the scene wavered, faded. And there were Rose and Ruth in
their little white beds, with Marmie at the door bringing in some
delicious-looking jelly.
“You’ve been so good and quiet that I’m going to give you a treat,
youngsters,” she smiled at them. “Just look at this!”