Seventeenth Chapter: Passage to Sauvage (499 AD)

The King of Essex had exposed the trickery involving the Fool’s Gold, mocking the rulers of Wessex and Sussex for failing to spot the trick. Harsh words passed between the Saxon kingdoms as skalds traversed the land, bearing poison ballads on behalf of the Saxon chiefs. With the Saxons turning their attentions on each other, now was the perfect chance to seek King Sauvage in his own realm.

Pertiones had noted that the Rollright Stones were a legendary entrance to the forest, and arriving there the party entered a narrow trail that seemed more suited to foxes and badgers than knights and horses, yet which widened out after a time. Soon the knights discovered a vast clearing, in which County Tribuit – an entire County! – had become encircled by the Forest Sauvage. The inhabitants could no longer perceive the ways into and out of the clearing, and fearing for the lives of the Salisbury knights the ruler, Earl Meilyr, tried to insist that they stay under his hospitality instead of passing into deeper peril. Eventually he and Sir Edward jousted, and convinced of the party’s might Meilyr gave them the freedom of the county.

After resting and investing the locals with hope, the knights advanced on, passing through an abandoned village claimed entirely by the forest. They came to the Castle of the Race, whose master Yves of Buckingham was fond of challenging passers-by to horse races. Pertiones had noted down details of a legend in which a visitor to this castle had got Yves to direct him safely on into the deeper forest by complimenting his horse and convincing Yves to swap horses for the race – for the horse, Thought, was magical.

Mindful of this tale, the knights approached the castle, whereon Sir Yves emerged. Lord Jacques regaled the horse Thought with a poetic eruption of praise (which Tolkien would later borrow from in the Song of Luthien), which so moved Sir Yves that he agreed to swap horses for the race, which Lord Jacques won. Sir Yves directed the party to Towchester, a town of humans who according to Yves had accepted Sauvage’s rule and therefore enjoyed all the riches he saw fit to bestow upon them, and who were not to be trusted on matters of directions.

Arriving at Towchester the party found a fabulously wealthy town of happy and contented citizens. Passing through the market place to take the road the locals did not recommend, Sir Edward noted a fine set of clothes that would just barely outshine the finery Countess Estelle had dressed Lord Pubert in. Purchasing it, he was urged not to don the garments by the other knights lest they were enchanted – and indeed, when touched by Lord Jacques’ cross, they turned to a pile of mouldy leaves and rags. Confronting the merchant, Edward realised that all the stock was the same, though the tailor could not perceive it; as they looked about them, the knights saw that all the wealth of Towchester was a cruel illusion that the town’s inhabitants were bewitched by.

Departing, they came at last to the heart of the forest, where silent serfs tilled the soil under the supervision of cruel redcaps. Seizing a redcap with great wrath, Lord Jacques forced it to take the party to Castle Sauvage, where the enigmatic Sir Sun and Sir Moon told them they must undertake the Three Quests of Sauvage in order to see the King. The Dwarf of Sauvage challenged the knights at chess; Lord Jacques prevailed, his faith reflected by a transformation of the chessboard’s pagan Priest pieces into Christianised Bishops. The Lady of Sauvage would be swerved only by Courtesy, which Lord Pubert – used to grovelling at the feet of Urquhart – offered in spades. Lastly, the Gallant of Sauvage had the knights attempt falconry with a set of birds representing the British Christian virtues; Sir Roland succeeded in catching a goblin with Generosity. The Gallant declared that the party had earned their audience…

Sixteenth Chapter: The Tale of Sir Pubert and the Three Wallingfords (498 AD)

Salisbury decides to play a trick on the Saxons, providing both Essex and Wessex with a tribute of fool’s gold. Angry diplomatic missives from Essex suggested that the ruse had been seen through there, but Wessex apparently failed to spot that the tribute was worthless. Meanwhile, both Sir Edward and Lord Jacques celebrated the birth of children in their family (Jennifer and Rene respectively), whilst Queen Ygraine decided to honour Sir Roland by taking up residence with Roland and Cora. This is an interesting departure from other renditions of the myth because it means that Ygraine meets Arthur much earlier than she does in Malory or other such sources – and Roland tells her the secret of how Arthur was brought by Merlin, so Ygraine realises that Arthur might be the baby that Merlin took away from her back in Uther’s time. At the same time, Ygraine decides not to speak of these hopes, realising that if she is wrong and spoke out then she would give Arthur false pretenses to royalty and could even endanger Roland and Cora all over a mere coincidence. She contents herself with teaching Arthur stories of Uther and Duke Gorlois, since Ygraine is not entirely sure which of these two luminaries was the true father of the child she bore some nine months after Gorlois’ end. Roland also encourages Ygraine to teach Arthur, Orpheus and Sisyphus about Christianity, since Roland wants them to choose their faith freely; whilst Orpheus and Sisyphus retain Roland’s pagan faith, the chronicler notes that Arthur “heeded the call of his father’s faith, and the baptism he had received from Uther before Merlin took him, and came to Christ through Ygraine’s teaching”.

The chronicler puts a strong emphasis on the idea that Arthur was raised by three women – Ygraine, who taught him of Christ and his father and his history; Cora, who fed and clothed him as a baby and taught him what it was to be a Briton and a member of a family; and Roland, who taught him “all that a man could hope to be taught from his father, and more of knightly virtue than many men ever attain”. Some have interpreted this as being an attempt to portray Arthur as going one better than Irish national hero Finn McCool, who was raised by two women, whilst others suggest that this is a remnant of earlier pagan myths in which the Arthur equivalent was blessed by some triple goddess. (Those who contend that the Chronicle is a modern forgery suggest that this is evidence of some neopagan influence in its composition, since triple goddesses have been in vogue in neopaganism for a good long while.)

I think there’s some merit to the triple goddess idea because the way the chronicler phrases it suggests a past/present/future motif – Ygraine represents Arthur’s origins, Cora is his main caregiver at this point in the Chronicle, and Roland as a heroic knight represents Arthur’s future. This is highly reminiscent of the three Fates of Greco-Roman mythology, or their equivalents (the Norns) in Germanic mythology. From the Mediterranean side of things, it isn’t a huge leap to go from Atropos’ shears to Roland’s sword, which decides the deaths of men in a much more direct fashion; Atropos’ equivalent amongst the Norns, Skuld, stands out as the only Norn who is cited in the Eddas as also being a valkyrie, which fits the pattern here of two women who are noncombatants and one who goes forth to battle.

Meanwhile, Salisbury suffers some Saxon raids from Essex, but due to the mild winter conditions the inhabitants of Salisbury can patrol effectively and for the most part see the raiders off. However, word comes in from Duke Ulfius of something curious: his scouts believe that, rather than undertaking the dangerous ride through his own lands, these raiders came to Salisbury via Oxford County. This is of concern to him because he believes that between them, Salisbury, Silchester and Oxford should be able to make a strong defensive core for Logres. Realising they have heard little from Oxford since the death of Earl Bledri at the St Albans feast massacre, the knights determine to journey to Oxford County to investigate the lie of the land.

Along the way the knights encounter Pertoines, a young monk whose donkey’s saddlebags overflow with papers. Hailing from Merton Abbey to the south of London, Pertoines has determined that Oxford is an auspicious site to establish a community of scholars, and was travelling to do so when he was waylaid by a robber knight – one of three who have apparently taken control of the county. From his description of their heraldry, the knights realise that these are the de Wallingfords – infamous ne’er-do-wells who were considered outlaws in Uther’s time due to their repeated failure to answer his summons to arms. Accompanying Pertoines to the Benedictine Abbey at Abingdon (note that this is an anachronism – St. Benedict founded his first monastery in Italy around 529 AD), where the monks welcome their coreligionist Lord Jacques and are able to give more details of where the Wallingfords are – Sir Beleus, styling himself Lord Oxford, lives in Oxford Castle and expends much of his energies worrying about the city of Oxford rebelling against him, since it is still loyal to Countess Estelle; meanwhile, Sir Basile is in Wallingford Castle itself and Sir Bege, the youngest of the Wallingfords, styles himself Lord Shirburn and occupies Shirburn Castle.

Approaching Oxford the next day, the knights were approached by Sir Beleus, who sought to establish their intentions. Insulted by Sir Pubert, he accepted a duel but was soon outperformed by Pubert, who humiliated him to the cheers of the citizens watching from the city walls. The Countess came out to give him all due congratulations, and a third part of her knights were released from the custody of the Wallingfords and their mercenaries when the Oxford Castle dungeons were opened up. Then Sir Pubert and the other knights went to Wallingford, where Pubert – despite taking grevious wounds – slew Sir Basile, the eldest of the Wallingfords, who had come out to challenge them. Sir Bege, impetuous and reckless, came out to challenge the knights as they approached Shirburn, and was mercifully knocked unconscious by Sir Roland, who placed him on the back of Sir Pubert’s horse so that Pubert – wounded, dignified, and with a prisoner in tow – could cut the most impressive figure possible on the return to Oxford.

A primitive sort of masquerade ball ensued, with animal masks of pagan implication much in evidence, and as Sir Pubert lay dazed, Lord Jacques, Sir Edward and Sir Roland each took on his guise over the evening to try and convince Countess Estelle to marry him, so that as Lord Consort of Oxford he could help with the defence of the county. Countess Estelle played along, and offered to send funds to the knights, both to help them defend their territories in Salisbury and as a retainer in return for being able to ask for their aid if necessary, provided this did not conflict with their duties to Earl Robert. The deal thus struck, Pubert dutifully went along with Lord Jacques’ plans for his future.

Meanwhile, back in Salisbury, emissaries from Wessex, Sussex, and Essex came, demanding tribute. Notably, Wessex and Sussex were demanding gold, as Wessex and Essex had received, whilst Essex – wise to the trick now – wanted silver and cattle. Notably, the ambassadors spent their entire time in Sarum briefing the Countess and her knights against the other, so clearly the Saxon kingdoms were not seeing eye to eye. The fool’s gold tribute was given to Wessex and Sussex, whilst Essex went home empty-handed, with words to the effect that Salisbury was clearly setting an appropriate value on the protection of Wessex and Sussex…