On the first of the three days of the tournament there were great feats of wrestling and trials of archery. So too did yeomen prove their skill with mace and clubs. Foot races were many. And constant flow of ale and food so that none among the yeomen and even of the varlets found aught to want. Many fools there were too and these pleased all mightily.
But as the day advanced of all the yeomen but a half dozen remained for the wrestling. And for each of these but one, there was high acclaim from those other yeomen who were there and from such knights as owed fealty to selfsame banner. And of the archers too, but very few remained for last tests of skill.
For the one yeoman, who wore green tunic and red cap, there was none to cheer. A stranger, he kept silent and yet was equally skillful with the best. He had entered himself for the archery prize and for the wrestling.
"Dost know this knave?" asked King Arthur of Sir Percival.
"Only that he belongs not to any of us of the Round Table," replied Percival.
"Is he forsooth one of your men, worthy Ban?"
"I would he were, Arthur, yet is he not."
Now Sir Percival rode forward and divided these last six wrestlers into teams. Yet did this man prove victor for he had a wondrous hold which none of the others knew. And when he had won, so turned he to watch and join in the archery. And as he watched came there knaves to him and mocked him.
"Faith though you wrestle well," one spoke, "it doth not make you an archer. For here you find true archery than which none can do better."
"And I carry a club I would fain try on your thick skull," said another who was even less gentle spoken.
"Of a good time, my friend, and you may," replied the lone knave.
"No such time befits the same as now," replied the first knave.
"If they will wait for my trial with bow and arrow I would be the last to keep you waiting." So spoke the stranger.
So then one of the knaves hurried away and received permission.
"Then furnish me a club," said the stranger.
"Here then is mine," offered the third knave.
Yet, forsooth, the club was but a sorry one and so the unknown would not use it.
"Then show you a coward's heart," replied he who would strive with him. And then the three rushed upon the stranger and would do him hurt.
So now came bearing down on the three none other than Allan who had overheard the parley.
"For shame, knaves. No true men would treat stranger so. He asks nothing more than is fair. Give him a club of his choosing."
"Of a faith, young master, this quarrel is none of yours, and warrants no interference. Leave this fellow to us, and we shall give him clubbing of his choosing." And the man who addressed the boy, though he looked not straight at him, growled surlily.
"I shall give you a thrashing, fool, unless you do my bidding," replied the boy, hotly.
But the three surly brutes moved uneasily. And then came Sir Percival forward.
"What have we here?" he asked.
So Allan waited for the men to say. But they, now frightened, made no spoken word.
"These knaves would play foul tricks on this strange fellow. This one, would strive with him and yet would not offer other club than this. And when the stranger asked to have one of his choice they called him coward and would beat him."
"And I doubt not, fools, this club you offer will not stand one blow." So Sir Percival brought it down on the first knave's head, and, lo, though the blow was not a hard one, yet did the club break in two.
"So methought. Now go you Allan and get club that will do. And then will you, stranger, give this villain a sound trouncing." And Sir Percival stayed so that the troublemakers did not depart.
So Allan brought a club which suited the stranger.
Now did the two battle long and well. Both the stranger and he who fought with him were of great strength and each was exceeding quick.
As wood struck wood and each tried to get full blow upon the other, so turned all eyes upon the two. And except for glancing blows neither could bring the other down. And though the sparks flew, yet each held his club and was hardly hurt. So now they rested for a few moments.
And while they waited, the stranger turned to Allan and spoke.
"I thank you for your brave upstanding of me, young master. And I hope some day I may serve you equally well."
"You are a worthy man. Serve me now by trouncing the knave who battles with you."
"I can but try, yet right skillful is the fellow."
So they turned to again. Yet this time the stranger fought the better. Soon the other was forced back, foot by foot. And even as the stranger seemed to have all the best of it, his foot seeming slipped, and he went to his knees.
Fiercely the other came upon him. Yet as he came closer the stranger's club moved swiftly. From out the seeming victor's hand flew his mighty club and next second found him clubbed to the ground, senseless.
Now the stranger sat himself down for he needed rest sorely. But only for a little while and thereafter he turned to try his skill with bow and arrow. And though he had shown skill in all of the other feats he proved his mastery here. For he was wondrous expert in his archery.
"Here you, is fair target," he finally suggested after many trials. And went to distant tree and removed from bough upon it, all its leaves but one.
"Shoot you all at this. And if you bring it down I will call you skillful."
But only one would try for it. And he came close but missed.
Now did the stranger raise his own bow. Nor did he seem to take aim but let the arrow fly. And the arrow carried the twig and leaf with it to the ground.
"Of a truth," said King Arthur, "a right worthy knave is that and I would speak to him."
So they brought the stranger before the king.
"Thou hast done exceeding well, this day, fellow. Tell us then the banner that you serve."
"That I cannot do. For, sire, such are my master's commands. Yet may I say no knight is more true and worthy."
"Then must we wait for your master's coming. Go thou hence and tell your master he can be proud of thee. And take you this bag of gold besides such other prizes as are yours." So as the knave stood there, the King turned to Sir Dagonet, his jester, who was making himself heard.
"A fool speaks, sire. Yet claim I, like master like man. So then must this fellow's master be right skillful to hold him. And since this master is not you, nor Sir Launcelot, then I pick him to be Sir Tristram."
"Fool's reasoning, yet hath it much sense," said the King.
Now the stranger left. But ere departing, he turned to Allan.
"I trust, young master, I shall see you again. As to who I am, know you for your own keeping--fools ofttimes reason best of all."
The yeoman rode far into the forest. Then when he came to a lone habitation he dismounted. A knight seated near the small window at the further wall greeted him as he entered.
"How did the day turn out? No doubt they trounced you well."
"No, master, no trouncing did I get. Instead, the good King spoke pleasantly unto me, gave me this bag of gold, and commended me to my master. Furthermore, see you these prizes that are mine?"
"Aye," the yeoman continued, not a bit grieved at the knight's banter, "I even heard the King's fool remark that since the man was so good, the master need must be. And then and there he hazarded a shrewd guess that if this master were not the King, nor Sir Launcelot, then it must need be you."
"Then truly am I in good company. Now then tell me what news is there of tomorrow?"
"The King of Northgalis desires your aid. That I heard him say. Sir Launcelot is to joust for Cadoris as is Sir Palomides, and these two, of a truth, make it one-sided."
"Worthy Gouvernail, prove again my faith in you. Procure for me a shield, one that holds no insignia, so that I may enter the lists unbeknownst to any. I would not have them know I am Tristram, so that it may be my good fortune to joust with many knights who know me not."
"That, good master, is not hard. I know a place where I can obtain a black shield, one that holds no other remembrance upon it. It should serve your purpose well."
"By my faith, did ever better knave serve master? Right proud of you am I, Gouvernail. And would that I too had bags of gold I could give you for your loyal service."
"Nay, master, such service as I give I measure not by aught that you can pay."
"That do I know full well, else had you left me long since, for little have I paid," Sir Tristram answered, soft spoken and with great affection.
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