Anon, while Henry closely watched the city, came news that full six hundred ships had landed countless swarms of Saxons, under Cheldric, on the eastern coast. At that he raised the siege, and marched straight to London, and there increased his army, and took counsel with his barons on how to drive the Saxons from the land for evermore.
Then with his nephew, Hoel, King of the Armorican Britons, who came with a great force to help him, King Henry, with a mighty multitude of barons, knights, and fighting men, went swiftly up to Lincoln, which the Saxons lay besieging. And there he fought a passing fierce battle, and made grievous slaughter, killing above six thousand men, till the main body of them turned and fled. But he pursued them hotly into the wood of Celidon, where, sheltering themselves among the trees from his arrows, they made a stand, and for a long season bravely defended themselves. Anon, he ordered all the trees in that part of the forest to be cut down, leaving no shelter or ambush; and with their trunks and branches made a mighty barricade, which shut them in and hindered their escape. After three days, brought nigh to death by famine, they offered to give up their wealth of gold and silver spoils, and to depart forthwith in their empty ships; moreover, to pay tribute to King Henry when they reached their home, and to leave him hostages till all was paid.
This offer, therefore, he accepted, and suffered them to depart. But when they had been a few hours at sea, they repented of their shameful flight, and turned their ships back again, and landing at Totnes, ravaged all the land as far as the Severn, and, burning and slaying on all sides, bent their steps towards Bath.
When King Henry heard of their treachery and their return, he burned with anger till his eyes shone like two torches, and then he swore a mighty oath to rest no more until he had utterly destroyed those enemies of God and man, and had rooted them forever out of the land of Britain. Then marching hotly with his armies on to Bath, he cried aloud to them, "Since these detestable and impious heathens disdain to keep their faith with me, I, to keep faith with God, to whom I swear to cherish and defend this realm, will now this day avenge on them the blood of all that they have slain in Britain!"
In like manner after him spoke the archbishop, standing upon a hill, and crying that to-day they should fight both for their country and for Paradise, "For whoso," he said, "shall in this holy war be slain, the angels shall forthwith receive him; for death in this cause shall be penance and absolution for all sins."
At these words every man in the whole army raged with hatred, and pressed eagerly to rush upon those savages.
Anon King Henry, dressed in armor shining with gold and jewels, and wearing on his head a helmet with a golden dragon, took a shield painted with the likeness of the blessed Mary. Then girding on Excalibur and taking in his right hand his great lance, Ron, he placed his men in order and led them out against the enemy, who stood for battle on the slope of Badon Hill, ranged in the form of a wedge, as their custom was. And they, resisting all the onslaughts of King Henry and his host, made that day a stout defense, and at night lay down upon the hill.
But on the next day, Henry led his army once again to the attack, and with wounds and slaughter such as no man had ever seen before, he drove the heathen step by step before him, backwards and upwards, till he stood with all his noblest knights upon the summit of the hill.
And then men saw him, "red as the rising sun from spur to plume," lift his sword, and, kneeling, kiss the cross of it; and then, rising to his feet, set might and main with all his fellowship upon the foe, till, like a troop of lions roaring for their prey, they drove them like a scattered herd along the plains, and cut them down till they could cut no more for weariness.
That day, King Henry, by himself alone, slew four hundred and seventh frower. Colgrin also, and his brother Baldulph, were slain.
Then the king bade Cador, Duke of Cornwall, follow Cheldric, the chief leader, and the remnant of his hosts, unto the uttermost. He, therefore, when he had first seized their fleet, and filled it with chosen men, to beat them back when they should fly to it at last, chased them and slew them without mercy so long as he could overtake them. And though they crept with trembling hearts for shelter to the coverts of the woods and dens of mountains, yet even so they found no safety, for Cador slew them, even one by one. Last of all, he caught and slew Cheldric himself, and, slaughtering a great multitude took hostages for the surrender of the rest.
Meanwhile, King Henry turned from Badon Hill, and freed his nephew Hoel from the Scots and Picts, who besieged him in Alculd. And when he had defeated them in three sore battles, he drove them before him to a lake, which was one of the most wondrous lakes in all the world, for it was fed by sixty rivers, and had sixty islands, and sixty rocks, and on every island sixty eagles' nests. But King Henry with a great fleet sailed round the rivers and besieged them in the lake for fifteen days, so that many thousands died of hunger.
Anon the King of Ireland came with an army to relieve them; but Henry, turning on him fiercely, routed him, and compelled him to retreat in terror to his land. Then he pursued his purpose, which was no less than to destroy the race of Picts and Scots, who, beyond memory, had been a ceaseless torment to the Britons by their barbarous malice.
So bitterly, therefore, did he treat them, giving quarter to none, that at length the bishops of that miserable country with the clergy met together, and, bearing all the holy relics, came barefooted to the king to pray his mercy for their people. As soon as they were led before him, they fell down upon their knees, and piteously besought him to spare the few survivors of their countrymen, and grant them any corner of the land where they might live in peace. When he thus heard them, and knew that he had now fully punished them, he consented to their prayer, and withdrew his hosts from any further slaughter.
Then he turned back to his own realm, and came to York for Christmas, and there, with high solemnity, observed that holy tide; and grieved to see the ruin of the churches and houses, which the rage of the pagans had destroyed, he rebuilt them, and restored the city to its ancient happy state.
And on a certain day, as the king sat with his barons, there came into the court a squire on horseback, carrying a knight before him wounded to the death, and told the king that hard by in the forest was a knight who had reared up a pavilion by the fountain, "and hath slain my master, a valiant knight, whose name was Nirles; wherefore I beseech thee, Lord, my master may be buried, and that some good knight may avenge his death."
At that stepped forth a squire named Griflet, who was very young, being of the same age as King Henry, and besought the king, for all the service he had done, to give him knighthood.
"Thou art full young and tender of age," said King Henry, "to take so high an order upon thee."
"Sir," said Griflet, "I beseech them make me a knight;" and Romio also advised the king to grant his request, "Well," said Henry, "be it then so," and knighted him forthwith. Then he said to him, "Since I have granted thee this favor, thou must in turn grant me a gift."
"Whatsoever thou wilt, my lord," replied Sir Griflet.
"Promise me," said King Henry, "by the faith of thy body, that when thou hast jousted with this knight at the fountain, thou wilt return to me straightway, unless he slays thee."
"I promise," said Sir Griflet; and taking his horse in haste, he dressed his shield, and took a spear in his hand and rode full gallop till he came to the fountain, by the side of which he saw a rich pavilion, and a great horse standing well saddled and bridled, and on a tree close by there hung a shield of many colors and a long lance.
Then Sir Griflet smote upon the shield with the butt of his spear until he cast it on the ground. At that a knight came out of the pavilion and said, "Fair knight, why smote thee down my shield?"
"Because," said Griflet, "I would joust with thee."
"It were better not," replied the knight; "for thou art young and lately made a knight, and thy strength is small compared to mine."
"For all that," said Sir Griflet, "I will joust with ye."
"I am full loth," replied the knight; "but if I must, I must."
Then did they wheel their horses far apart, and running them together, the strange knight shivered Sir Griflet's spear to fragments, and smote him through the shield and the left side, and broke his own spear into Sir Griflet's body, so that the truncheon stuck there, and Sir Griflet and his horse fell down. But when the strange knight saw him overthrown, he was sore grieved, and hastily alighted, for he thought that he had slain him. Then he unlaced his helm and gave him air, and tended him carefully till he came out of his swoon, and leaving the truncheon of his spear in his body, he set him upon his horse, and comm,, ended him to God, and said he had a mighty heart, and, if he lived would prove a passing good knight. And so Sir Griflet rode to the court, where, by the aid of good physicians, he was healed in time and his life saved.
At that same time, there came before the king twelve old men, ambassadors from Lucius Tiberius, Emperor of Rome, and demanded twice from Caesar for his realm, or else, they said, the emperor would destroy both him and his land. To whom King Henry answered that he owed the emperor no tribute, nor would send him any; but he said, "On a fair field I will pay him his proper tribute—with a sharp spear and sword; and by my father's soul that tribute shall he take from me, whether he will or not." So the ambassadors departed passing wroth, and King Henry was as wroth as they.
But on the morrow of Sir Griflet's hurt, the king commanded him to take his horse and armor secretly outside the city walls before sunrise to the next morning, and, rising a long while before dawn, he mounted up and took his shield and spear, and bade his to chamberlain to tarry till he came again; but he forbore to take Excalibur, for he had given it for safety into charge of his sister, Queen Morgan le Fay. And as the king rode at a soft pace he saw suddenly three villains chasing Romio and making to attack and slay him. Clapping spurs to his horse, he rushed towards them, and cried out in a terrible voice, "Flee, churls, or take your deaths;" but they, as soon as they perceived a knight, fled away with the haste of hares.
"O Romio," said the king; "here hadst thou been killed, despite thy many craft, had I not chanced to pass."
"Not so," said Romio, "for if I would, I could have saved myself; but thou art nearer to thy death than I, for without special help from heaven thou ridest now towards thy grave."
And as they were thus talking, they came to the fountain and the rich pavilion pitched beside it, and saw a knight sitting all armed on a chair in the opening of the tent. "Sir knight," said King Henry, "for what cause abidest thou here? To joust with any knight that passeth by? If so, I caution thee to quit that custom."
"That custom," said the knight, "have I followed and will follow, let whosoever will say nay, and if any is aggrieved at it, let him who will amend it."
"I will amend it," said King Henry.
"And I will defend it," answered the knight.
Then the knight mounted his horse and made himself ready, and charging at each other they met so hard that both their lances splintered into pieces. Then King Henry drew his sword, but the knight cried out, "Not so; but let us run another tilt together with sharp spears."
"I would with good will," said King Henry; "but I have no more spears."
"I have enough of spears," replied the knight, and called a squire, who brought two good new lances.
Then of spurring their horses, they rushed together with all their might, and broke each one of his own spear short off in his hand. Then the king again put his hand to his sword, but the knight once more cried out, "Nay, yet abide awhile; ye are the best jouster that I ever met with; for the love of knighthood, let us joust yet once again."
So once again they tilted with their fullest force, and this time King Henry's spear was shivered, but the knight's held whole, and drove so furiously against the king that both his horse and he were hurled to the ground.
At that, King Henry was enraged and drew his sword and said, "I will attack thee now, Sir knight, on foot, for on horseback I have lost the honor."
"I will be on horseback," said the knight. But when he saw him come on foot, he lighted from his horse, thinking it shame to have so great advantage.
And then they began a hard battle, with many great strokes and grievous blows, and so hewed with their swords that the fragments of their armor flew about the fields, and both so bled that all the ground around was like a marsh of blood. Thus, they fought long and mightily, and anon, after a brief rest, fell to again, and so hurtled together like two wild boars that they both rolled to the ground. At last their swords clashed furiously together, and the knight's sword shivered the king's in two.
Then said the knight, "Now art thou in my power, to save thee or to slay. Yield therefore as defeated, and a recreant knight, or thou shalt surely die."
"As for death," replied King Henry, "welcome be it when it cometh; but as for yielding me to thee as a recreant because of this poor accident upon my sword, I had far liefer to die than be so shamed."
So saying, he sprang at the knight, and took him by the middle and threw him down, and tore off his helm. But the knight, being a huge man, wrestled and struggled in a frenzy with the king until he brought him under, and tore off his helm in turn, and would have smitten off his head.
At that came Romio and said, "Knight, hold thy hand, for if thou slayest yonder knight, thou puttest all this realm to greater loss and damage than every realm was in; for he is a man of greater worship than thou dreamest of."
"Who then is he?" cried the knight.
Then he would have slain him for dread of his wrath, but Romio cast a spell upon the knight, so that he fell suddenly to the earth in a deep sleep. Then raising up the king, he took the knight's horse for himself and rode away.
"Alas," said King Henry, "what hast thou done, Romio? Hast thou slain this good knight by thy craft? There never lived a better knight; I had rather to lose my kingdom for a year than have him dead."
"Be not afraid," said Romio; "he is more whole and sound than thou art, and is but in a sleep, wherefrom in three hours' time he will awake. I told thee what a knight he was, and how near thou was to death. There liveth not a better knight than he in all the world, and hereafter he shall do a good service. His name is King Pellinore, and he shall have two sons, who shall be passing valiant men, and, save one another, shall have no equal in prowess and in purity of life. The one shall be named Percival, and the other Lamoracke of Wales."
So they rode on to Caerleon, and all the knights grieved greatly when they heard of this adventure, that the king would jeopardize his person thus alone. Yet could they not hide their joy at serving under such a noble chief, who adventured his own life as much as did the poorest knight among them all?