ir spirit shall
spread like fire in the hearts of all your knights. You shall have all
my prayers, dear kinsman, and I bid you say to all your knights, "Watch
and Pray."'

A few days later, when the king sat in hall before the great fire, for
it was passing cold and the wintry wind snarled at the windows, the
great door was flung open, and into the hall came three men bearing a
wounded knight in armour upon his shield. When they had set him down,
the knights that were with the king knew him for Sir Kay the seneschal,
and Sir Kay looked sourly about him, and bade those that carried him
take him to his pallet and fetch a leech, and not stand gaping like
fools.

'How now,' said Sir Gawaine, 'who hath tumbled thee, Sir Kay?'

'A fool whose head I will rase from his shoulders when I am hale
again,' snapped Sir Kay, as he was borne away to his bed.

Then into the hall came a troll, and after the troll came a knight
dressed all in white armour, who, going towards the king, knelt at his
feet.

'Sir,' the knight said, 'I would that ye make me a knight.'

'Of what lineage have ye come?' asked the king.

'I am the only son left to my mother,' replied the knight, 'and she is
the widow of Earl Evroc of the Wolds.'

'Ah,' said the king, and frowned, 'was he one of those turbulent lords
of the north that now slay and war as if they were kin to the pagans,
and threaten to bring ruin into my kingdom?'

'Nay, lord,' said the young knight, 'my father hath been dead these
twenty years.'

'Then what is your name? What have ye done to deserve knighthood?'
asked the king, who was angry at the hurt his old friend and
foster-brother Kay had received.

'Sir, I am Perceval who slew the Dragon Knight, and I am not yet made a
knight.'

All those that stood there cried out in joy, and King Arthur raised the
young knight from his knees and kissed him on both cheeks.

'Fair young warrior, I knew ye not,' said the king, 'and I repent me my
churlish speech. We all have heard your great deeds, and much have I
longed to see ye, and many reproaches gave I to Sir Kay, whose churlish
manner thrust you from my hall.'

'Sir,' said Perceval, when he had clasped the hands of the knights, all
of whom were eager to know him, 'I vowed that I would not come to you
until that I had avenged the blow which Sir Kay had given to my good
friend Tod, who is my squire, and good fortune brought Sir Kay to me,
or perhaps it was the will of Heaven. For as I