The Adventures of Sir Lancelot the Great (4 page)

"Oh, you met the four queens. Perhaps I should have mentioned them to you."

"I should dashed well think so! I was lucky to get away in one piece!" Sir Kay threw Sir Lancelot's armor down between them. "I'll tell you this, Lancelot. I used to envy you, but now that I've tried it, I wouldn't be in your place for anything!"

Sir Lancelot sighed. Sir Kay had a point: being Sir Lancelot the Great was not very restful.

The very next day Sir Lancelot learned that being the greatest knight in England had other disadvantages. As it happened, a few days before Sir Lancelot arrived at court, King Arthur had proclaimed a tournament, to the delight of all Camelot. There would be jousting, which was where knights tried to knock one another from their horses with lances, and a mock battle and colorful banners and minstrels and jugglers and feasts. All the brave knights polished their armor, and all the fair damsels gave tokens to their favorite knights, bright strips of cloth to wear on their ar
mor. The event was scheduled for two weeks away, and all Camelot buzzed with anticipation.

Sir Lancelot was delighted as well. He always enjoyed a good tournament, and so he declared that he would enter the contest.

"Oh, well," said all the brave knights, putting away their armor.

"Never mind," said all the fair damsels, taking back their tokens.

"Lancelot," said King Arthur, "I wonder if I could ask you to give this tournament a miss?"

"But why, Sire?" asked Sir Lancelot.

"The thing is," the king replied, "all the other knights know that you'll win, and all the damsels know that you never wear a lady's token in a joust. It just takes the fun out of it for the everyone else."

"But I
like
tournaments," Sir Lancelot said. "What if I promise to use my left hand?"

"You've already defeated everyone left-handed,"
King Arthur pointed out. "I'm afraid you'll need a bigger handicap than that to make it fair. Tell you what, Lance, why don't you take a little vacation in the countryside?"

"I've just come back from the countryside."

"Then find a
different
countryside."

"Bother," Sir Lancelot said, but he obeyed and left the court.

As the king had suggested, Sir Lancelot rode to a countryside he had never visited before, a pleasant region called Shalott. Around midafternoon, Sir Lancelot found a shady spot under a tree and, after removing his armor, lay down for his afternoon nap.

Hardly had he gone to sleep, though, when he was roused by the baying of hunting dogs nearby, then the murmur of human voices. He was about to sit up to look about when he was struck with a searing pain in the part of his body that he normally sat upon. On the right side. Sir Lancelot
gasped but stayed still, listening. Someone, it seemed, was attacking him, and he wanted to know who.

Behind him, a woman's voice said, "Did I hit it?"

"No, you didn't hit it," replied a man's voice. "I
told
you to get closer before shooting."

"But it was a very
big
deer. I thought I couldn't miss."

"Elaine, you duffer, you couldn't have hit a deer at that distance if it had been as big as a house. Even
I
wouldn't have tried that shot!"

"Ooh," retorted the woman. "Even the great Sir Lavaine wouldn't have tried it!"

"And now you've lost a perfectly good arrow somewhere in that tall grass," the man replied.

With much discomfort, Sir Lancelot pulled himself to his feet. Across the meadow stood a young woman and a young man. "Excuse me," Sir
Lancelot said. The two looked at him with surprise. "Have you lost an arrow?" he asked them.

"Yes, indeed," the young lady replied. "Have you seen it?"

"Not exactly," said Sir Lancelot. "But I know where it is."

"See, I haven't lost it after all," the lady said to the man. She smiled at Sir Lancelot. "Would you show me where it landed?"

"Er, I'd rather not, my lady," Sir Lancelot said. His leg was wet with blood, and he was starting to feel dizzy. "Do either of you know where I could find a doctor hereabouts?"

Then Sir Lancelot fainted.

When Sir Lancelot awoke he was lying on his stomach in a bed, and beside him sat two men—the young man from the meadow and an older man in rich clothes and a gray beard.

"Oh, good," the young man said. "You're awake."

"Ouch," said Sir Lancelot.

"I'm afraid you'll smart for a while," the older man said. "And be quite weak for a bit. The doctor says you've lost a lot of blood."

"Where am I?"

"I am Sir Bernard of Shalott, and you're in my castle. My daughter, Lady Elaine, and Sir Lavaine here brought you to me after you fainted."

"And where is the lady—Lady Elaine?" Sir Lancelot asked.

"We made her leave while the doctor treated your ... um, your wound," Sir Lavaine explained.

"That was thoughtful of you," Sir Lancelot said faintly.

"She'll be back soon, though," Sir Lavaine said. "She feels awful about this. It
was
an accident, you know."

"I'm sure it was," Sir Lancelot murmured.

"I mean, it
couldn't
have been on purpose," Sir Lavaine went on. "Elaine couldn't have hit your—hit such a target at that distance for any price. To tell the truth, you'd have been safer if she
had
been aiming at you."

"That's not true!" declared a female voice from
behind Sir Lancelot. "And even if it were, it's very unhandsome of you to say so, Lavaine."

"I'm only speaking truth, Elaine. The day you learn to—"

"As if you could do better!"

"Please don't argue," interrupted Sir Lancelot wearily. "It gives me a pain in the—it makes my wound hurt."

"I know just how you feel," Lady Elaine said, walking up to the head of the bed. "Sir Lavaine has given me that same pain for years. But truly, Sir Knight, I must tell you how sorry I—oh, my!" She broke off, staring at Sir Lancelot. "Well!" she said. "Aren't you a handsome fellow! I must say, if I had to shoot a knight, at least I bagged a good one!"

"Elaine!" said Sir Lavaine reproachfully. "You don't sound sorry at all! Don't you realize what you've done? I'm sure that this knight here was on his way to the great tournament at Camelot, and now thanks to you he'll have to miss it!"

"Piffle!" Lady Elaine said with a snort. "Why should a little scratch like that keep him from a tournament?"

"Because he won't be able to ride a horse, that's why! No knight could joust with such a handicap!"

"What's that?" asked Sir Lancelot suddenly. "Did you say
handicap?
"

"I certainly did. Don't you think that a wound in the—a wound like yours would be a handicap? Why, Sir Lancelot himself couldn't win a tournament in your condition! By the way, sir. What
is
your name?"

Sir Lancelot smiled. "John. My name is Sir John," he said.

Except for having to carry a pillow everywhere with him to sit on, Sir Lancelot had a lovely vacation at the Castle of Shalott, where he was cared for attentively by Lady Elaine and enjoyed long talks with Sir Bernard and also with the young Sir Lavaine, who lived nearby and rode over nearly every day.

After a week, just two days before the king's tournament, Sir Lancelot revealed his plan. "Sir Bernard," he asked his host. "Do you have any old armor lying about that I could borrow?"

"Whatever for?" asked Sir Bernard.

"I'd like to wear it in the tournament at Camelot."

"What? With a great, gaping wound in your—"

"I'm feeling much better, actually."

"How will you ride a horse?"

"I thought I would use a pillow."

Sir Bernard gawked at him. "A tournament knight with a pillow on his saddle? You'll look ridiculous!"

"That's why I don't want to wear my own armor," Sir Lancelot said promptly. "I'll be in disguise, so that if I end up looking silly, no one will know me."

Sir Bernard still tried to talk him out of his plan, and so did Sir Lavaine when he heard of it. "You're mad!" Sir Lavaine said. "I won't let you go!"

"How will you stop me?" Sir Lancelot asked.

"I ... I don't know, but ... Well, I won't let you go alone, anyway. Someone has to carry you off to a doctor when you faint. I'm coming too."

Only Lady Elaine approved of Sir Lancelot's
idea. "I
told
you it was just a little scratch, Mister Smarty-Armor," she said to Sir Lavaine. "I think Sir John will be fine. In fact, I believe it so much that I'm going to give him my sleeve to wear as a token in the tournament."

Sir Lancelot started to say that he never wore ladies' tokens, but then he realized this would give him away. The only knight who had that rule was Sir Lancelot. In fact, if he did wear Lady Elaine's token, it would add to his disguise. "I would be honored to wear your token," Sir Lancelot said graciously, but to tell the truth he wasn't happy about it.

Neither, Sir Lancelot saw too late, was Sir Lavaine.

By the time Sir Lancelot, Sir Lavaine, and Lady Elaine arrived at Camelot, Sir Lancelot was more certain than ever that he should not have accepted Lady Elaine's token. Wearing a lady's token was often seen as a mark of love, which was why Sir Lancelot never wore them—he didn't want to give a lady a false impression—and even though he didn't think Lady Elaine loved him,
wearing her token might give someone the wrong idea. Sir Lavaine, for instance, had been cold and distant to him ever since he had accepted Lady Elaine's offer. He had also been rather cool toward Lady Elaine, and Sir Lancelot was saddened to think he had come between the two friends.