Lancelot and the Lord of the Distant Isles. Patricia Terry

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СКАЧАТЬ and had soon learned what she needed to imprison him, alive but sleeping, in a secret cave in a forest. Merlin was never seen again.

      Lancelot grew up in the kingdom Viviane had established beneath what appeared to be an ordinary lake. In that magical place, she had fine houses, great forests full of game, even rivers and brooks. Many knights and noble ladies lived there with her. Only the mother who had borne him could have loved Lancelot more than the Lady of the Lake. Never did he imagine he was not her son. She gave him the most tender care, finding a lovely young woman to nurse him and, after he was weaned, an understanding tutor, suitable for a young boy. When he was three years old, he looked as if he were five. No one had ever seen a more beautiful child, and his beauty only increased as he grew older.

      The Lady alone was aware of Lancelot’s true identity. While the people of her household referred to him as “the child,” the Lady liked to call him “my prince,” and would tell him how hard it was to be worthy of a crown, but she seemed to be only teasing. When he asked about his father, she would only say he had been a very great man. He imagined someone taller and stronger than anyone around him, some warrior even more valiant than the heroes of whom poets sang, a man to whom he could give his admiration and his love.

      The Lady taught him all that makes a noble life, and provided him with companions of his own age, including, after a while, his cousins Lionel and Bors. He learned to ride fine horses and to hunt. In little time, he acquired the rudiments of jousting and soon surpassed his mentors. He liked playing checkers and chess, and read with pleasure. He sang wonderfully well, though he did so rarely. In form he was both graceful and powerful, everything about him perfectly proportioned, although his chest was unusually large. In later years, Queen Guenevere would say that God had made him so to accommodate the great size of his heart.

      Even as a young child he had exquisite manners, delighted more in giving than in receiving, and was kind and gentle to everyone. But injustice of any kind aroused in him such fury that his bright and joyful eyes turned black as coals, his cheeks became blood red, his voice rang out like a trumpet, and it was difficult to calm him down. He believed that he was strong enough to accomplish whatever it was in his heart to do.

      One day, when Lancelot was eighteen, he went hunting in the forest, where he never failed to bring down some worthy prey. This time, however, his quarry was exceptional – a stag of immense size, which he killed with a single arrow. He sent it as a gift to the Lady. He himself rested for a while through the heat of the afternoon, and then rode home. The Lady saw him arrive, sitting his horse with the grace of a born rider. He was dressed all in green, with a garland on his head, like springtime itself, she thought, or the promise of fruit not yet ripe, and her eyes filled with tears. When the youth came to greet her, she turned aside, weeping. He asked what was wrong, but she didn’t reply. At last she uttered a few words, ordering him to go away. Confused and upset, he rushed back to the courtyard where he had left his horse. He had just mounted again when she reappeared, seized the bridle, and told him to dismount. When they were alone in her room, she asked where he had intended to go.

      “Since you were angry with me, and wouldn’t tell me why, I thought I would go to King Arthur and ask to be made a knight.”

      She laughed at him, saying that he had no idea how courageous a knight had to be, how ready to risk his life for anyone who might need his help. What made him think, she asked, that he was capable of valor? “Your valor has never been tested.” In truth, she knew very well that he was by nature proof against fear and would freely sacrifice a life of comfort for the opportunity of winning the highest rewards of honor, but she still had to ask the question. Though heartsick at the thought of giving him up, the Lady realized that it was time. She embraced him, weeping with regret, and promised she would take him to King Arthur. She told him this about knighthood: “In the sight of God, all human beings are equal. There came a time, however, many years ago, when the strong began to take advantage of the weak; then other men, skilled in warfare and empowered by a sense of justice, became the defenders of those unable to defend themselves. Thus there arose an order of Knighthood. Knights live in the service of all who need protection, especially widows and orphans, and the Holy Church, which relies on them as a mother relies on her sons. To be a true knight is not a privilege of birth. It is granted only to the great of heart, and to those whose deeds demonstrate their worth. A knight’s true identity comes from the life he lives. A knight must achieve for himself an illustrious name. And so it will be with you.”

      The journey that King Ban had undertaken was completed now by his son, although Lancelot had never heard his own name or his father’s. That spring, not long after Whitsuntide, the Lady of the Lake, her hopeful ward, and a great retinue set out on the lengthy journey to the coast of Gaul. From there, they went by boat to Great Britain and then started on the road to King Arthur’s court. It was a magnificent procession that rode across fields and through the forest toward Camelot, the horses and their riders all in white, silver, and ivory, silk and brocade. A squire carried a fine silver helmet, another a pure white shield, another a spear, another a ceremonial robe for Lancelot to wear when he was knighted. Then came the Lady in white samite, her cloak lined with ermine, riding an exquisite snow-white mare that moved as softly as a cloud. The boy who rode beside her on a tall and spirited hunter could not have been more wonderful to behold, princely in his bearing, with innocence and energy shining from his whole being. They were attended by Bors and Lionel, his young cousins, who would perhaps return this way themselves one day. No eyes could look elsewhere when the procession at last crossed the bridge into King Arthur’s high city.

      The king was quick to agree that so promising a youth should become a knight. The Lady, however, insisted that he must be knighted in his own arms and attire. To this the king objected. He was accustomed to making his knights a gift of their armor, so that they would be known to belong to his household. When the Lady would not yield, Sir Yvain and Sir Gawain, both knights of the Round Table, convinced the king that an exception should be made.

      So the Lady of the Lake succeeded in her mission. As she was taking leave of Lancelot, she told him for the first time that she was not his mother, although she loved him fully as much as if she were. His father was one of the noblest knights in the world, she said, and his mother one of the loveliest and most worthy ladies who ever lived. More than that, she told him, he would learn before long, but not from her. She commended him to God and kissed him and, just before leaving, said, “My prince, you will find that the more great and perilous deeds you undertake, the more you will be ready to do others. Should there be any that prove beyond your powers, be assured that no other knight on earth could accomplish them, either. So go your way with confidence, my beautiful, noble child. Your quality is such that men will always aspire to win your friendship, and women will love you above all others.” Too choked with sorrow to say anything more, she embraced him once again and turned away. The boy was deeply moved, and his eyes filled with tears. Wordlessly, he kissed his cousins to bid them farewell.

      Queen Guenevere heard that the young man dressed in dazzling white who had come to court with the Lady of the Lake would be made a knight the very next morning. It was the Feast of Saint John, which some people still called Midsummer Eve. Such haste surprised her, but when the king and the two greatest knights of the realm assured her that the candidate was worthy of such an honor, she was eager to see him. Sir Gawain had promptly taken charge of the stranger, inviting him to rest and refresh himself in the comfort of his lodgings. In this welcome the young man found a reassuring promise of friendship, a kindness never to be forgotten. Radiant with expectation, he rode with Gawain through streets thronged with the curious, all of them gazing at the youth in admiration. The king received him in the great hall. The queen was at his СКАЧАТЬ