The Ballad of Sir Dinadan by Gerald Morris Page B

and spit at the ground where you walk?"
    "Iseult could never so demean herself. Who can say where Eros will send his feathered shaft deep into the bosom of another helpless soul? More than this I cannot say."
    Dinadan didn't believe this, but he saw that pressing Tristram more now would only make him more mulish, and so he changed tactics. "I quite understand, and I can't tell you how inspiring your vow is. That's why I'm here. I thought maybe you should have a traveling companion who would speak for you when necessary. That way you would never be tempted to break your vow. I'd be happy to ride with you."
    Tristram hesitated, but after declaring his vow so firmly, he could hardly say no, and he agreed. For the next hour, Tristram strolled about and talked to Brother Eliot, while Dinadan packed up his brother's things and saddled his horse. At last they were ready, and Tristram made a lengthy farewell speech to the monk, who endured it with great patience. Then Tristram lifted his head high and turned to Dinadan, "Very well, let us be off. I shall continue my silent path of sorrow."
    "Of course you will," Dinadan said soberly. Brother Eliot made a faint choking sound.
    "But see to it that you tell no one my name," Tristram added.
    "If anyone asks, I'll tell them you are Sir Stultus," Dinadan replied. Brother Eliot choked again and turned his face, but he was able to raise a hand in reply to Dinadan's parting wave.
    Dinadan waited almost an hour before he tried again to get information from Tristram. It was harder than he had expected. It wasn't at all difficult to get Tristram to talk; it was just that any question that mentioned Iseult reminded him of his vow and made him hold his tongue for a few minutes. During one of these lulls, Dinadan took out his rebec and began to play.
    "That's a rebec!" Tristram announced. Dinadan didn't reply, having nothing to add to Tristram's information. Tristram continued, though. "I used to play the rebec some, when I was small, but now I play the lyre."
    His interest stirred, Dinadan stopped playing. "Do you?"
    "Oh yes, I find it very useful in wooing ladies. You just tell them that you've written a song for them, and they fall all over you."
    "Really?" Dinadan replied, cautiously. "Tell me how that works."
    "It's very simple, really. That was how I wooed Iseult."
    "I see," Dinadan said, carefully. "And it worked?"
    "Until she got married," Tristram said mournfully.
    "Married?"
    "Yes, and King Mark watches his wife like a hawk."
    "What?" Dinadan exclaimed, in consternation. "Iseult is married to King Mark?"
    "Didn't you know?"
    "But how could that be? Isn't King Mark her father's worst enemy? Are you sure?"
    But he had gone too far. Tristram raised his chin in a noble pose. "My lips are sealed," he said grandly.
    And sealed they stayed, at least on the subject of Iseult and King Mark. After two more frustrating hours, they arrived at a small inn, built at a crossroads in the forest. Dinadan was pleased to see it, since he generally had a good relationship with innkeepers, but the keeper of this inn did not seem at all pleased. As soon as they rode into sight, the innkeeper rushed out of the front door waving his arms frantically at them. "Oh no, oh no. Not two more! Go away, I tell you! We're tired of knights, and the stories are all lies anyway! Go away!"
    Dinadan stared in consternation, but Tristram replied sharply, "I turn aside my path for no man, let alone for a villein such as thee."
    The innkeeper's face sagged wearily. "But I tell you it's all lies. I never made such a rule, and I never will. Why would I do such a thing anyway?"
    "What are you talking about, friend?" Dinadan asked gently. "What rule? We mean you no harm."
    "The rule about fighting a joust before.... Do you mean you haven't heard about—?"
    "Is this indeed the Inn of Challenge?" Tristram asked eagerly. "I had heard of it, but did not know it was here!"
    "No, I tell you! It's all a lie. This is the Green Dragon