Chapter 9

The Oddly Made Knight

The day of the trial arrived, and although all the knights of the Round Table had scoured the country for a champion to fight for the queen, all had failed. As the law required, Queen Guinevere stood in an open field, bound by ropes, while her accuser, Sir Mador, waited in full armor for a challenger.

When no knight arrived, Sir Mador turned triumphantly to the king. "Does no one defend Queen Guinevere of my charges? Then, by law, she must be declared guilty of murdering poor Sir Patrise and sentenced to death! You must pronounce sentence on your own queen now!" Sir Mador almost cackled with glee.

"Wait!" called a voice. The king and his court turned hopefully toward the sound.

From the woods at the edge of the field stepped the strangest-looking figure any had ever seen. It was a man, but he was wearing what looked like a garment of green twigs woven together and held in place with strips of bark. Leaves and branches bristled out like the quills of a large hedgehog. Over his face, the man wore a deerskin hood with holes cut in it for eyes, and from beneath the hood a bushy beard protruded. In the man's hand was a stout wooden staff.

"What ... er, I mean, who are you?" asked King Arthur.

"I am a knight who has come to defend Queen Guinevere," the man replied.

"You, a knight?" scoffed Sir Mador. "You look more like furniture!"

"You must forgive my armor," said the oddly made knight. "I didn't have any chain mail."

"And do you propose to fight me with a stick?"

"It was all that was handy. I've mislaid my sword, you see."

Sir Mador sneered at his twiggy opponent. "I find you insulting, oaf. I don't know what sort of low hovel you've crawled out of, but go back there at once before you annoy me."

"But I've come to fight you," said the oddly made knight.

"I don't lower myself to fight with peasants," said Sir Mador with a sneer.

"I spent hours putting this armor together. You think it was easy?"

"Go away, dolt, and do not meddle in the affairs of your betters!"

"You refuse to fight me?"

"I would throw you in a duck pond, but in that outfit you'd just float!"

"You refuse to fight me?" repeated the oddly made knight.

"Are you deaf as well as foolish?" snapped Sir Mador. "Yes! I refuse to fight you!"

The stranger turned to the king. "Sire, does not the law of the trial by combat state that if the accuser refuses to fight, then the accused must be set free?"

"So it does!" exclaimed King Arthur, leaping to his feet. "I hereby declare Queen Guinevere innocent! Release her at once!"

Stunned, Sir Mador stood still for a moment, then let out a bellow of rage. Drawing his sword, he charged the oddly made knight who had so neatly destroyed all his carefully made plans. The stranger sidestepped Sir Mador's flashing sword and, raising his wooden staff, struck Sir Mador in the head. He struck him very hard. The sound of the staff against Sir Mador's helmet was like the sound of an ax hitting a tree. Sir Mador's feet flew out from beneath him, and he landed on his back and did not move.

"And, Sire?" said the oddly made knight. "Does not the law say that a man who makes a false accusation must be banished from the land forever?"

"So it does," replied the king. "I hereby banish Sir Mador from England." Then he hesitated and added, "Starting as soon as he wakes up. I thank you, O knight, whoever you are."

The stranger removed the hood from his head. King Arthur stared for a long moment at the bushy-bearded face, then smiled. "Lancelot," he said.

***

At a great feast that night, Sir Kay, who had arrived at court shortly after Sir Lancelot, explained. "When Lancelot left last year, I followed him part of the way. I didn't want to lose my friend entirely. Then, when Sir Mador called for the trial by combat, I realized that there was only one knight who could defend the queen. After all, Lancelot had retired, so he wasn't from the king's court anymore."

"And so you went and found him," said the king.

"Not exactly, Sire," Sir Kay said. "If I'd found him, I would have lent him my own armor and sword. We're the same size, you know. Instead, what I found was an old hermit named Brastias who thought he knew where he was."

Then Sir Lancelot took up the tale. "Brastias had promised me that he would tell no one where I was, so instead of giving me away to Kay, he came himself and told me about the trial. I threw together some rough armor and left at once."

King Arthur smiled. "And we are glad that you did." Then his face grew solemn. "And now what? Will you leave us again?"

Slowly Sir Lancelot shook his head. "No, Sire. I have learned something about myself. I am supposed to be a knight. Not a knight who wins tournaments, not a knight who delights the ladies, not a knight in shining armor—just a knight who helps the helpless and defends the weak. With your permission, I would like to rejoin your Round Table."

King Arthur gave his permission, of course, and that was how Sir Lancelot returned to Camelot, where he remained the rest of his life, faithfully defending the defenseless, even when it interfered with his afternoon naps. He no longer competed in tournaments, and although he never again put on his armor of twigs, he adopted a new suit of armor that was so plain that as the years passed younger knights would shake their heads at his careless appearance. Sometimes they would even laughingly call him "Sir Lancelot the Shabby."

But to the storytellers—and, even more, to King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, and Sir Kay—he would always and forever be Sir Lancelot the Great.