marches.

Then fresh rumours went about, and these were the most evil of all. It
was said that he sought to slay the king, and wished to make Gwenevere
his own queen, and with her he would rule over all Britain.

First, men laughed and passed the rumours with a shrug and a gesture of
scorn; but when they were repeated again and again, some began half to
believe them. Many said that there must be some truth therein, for Sir
Lancelot was ever wending his way to the north country, and fought
there many battles and overcame many knights.

But others said this was because many ladies and damsels, who had lost
lands and homes and been evilly oppressed by the warring barons in
those parts, had heard of his great fame for knightly deeds and noble
manners, and came beseeching him to be their champion against those who
had robbed them.

Others said that it was but natural that when he was at the court he
should speak much to the queen, for he had from the first vowed himself
to be her knight, and many deeds of daring and prowess had he done for
her.

Yet others there were who believed that what rumour said might be true;
and others, who were good and noble knights, sorrowed to think that
such evil thoughts should be spread about by some treacherous tongues.

When men came to ask who had set these evil tongues to wag, it was
always found that a certain mean knight, named Sir Pinel, had first
spoken wrong of Lancelot and Sir Bors and the queen. And men noticed
that it was not long before the queen began to look coldly at Sir
Pinel, and then they knew that his rumours had reached her ears.

'What profit doth Sir Pinel think to gain from those false tales of
her?' said Sir Brastias one day, as he and Sir Gareth came from the
hawking together. 'For none ever reckoned him as a knight of any merit,
and all good men will now think less of him.'

'I fear me,' said Sir Gareth, 'that there is more beneath it all than
we wot of. Sir Pinel is a bosom friend of Sir Mordred's. Often have I
seen their heads together in places apart. And though he is my brother,
Sir Mordred is one I cannot love.'

'What fear you, Gareth?' asked Sir Brastias.

'I fear naught that he may do,' said Gareth, 'but I think he hates Sir
Lancelot and he hates Gawaine also, the chief of our party, because he
hath roundly told Mordred that he is a traitor, and that he will not be
drawn from his firm friendship with Sir Lancelot and his kinsmen. I
think Sir Mordr