Before them lay a great water, and suddenly they saw upon it a little ship, all gilt, with sails of silk, and it was coming straight toward them, and ran on to the sands. King Arthur went near it, and looked in; but there was no living thing on board.
“Sirs,” said Arthur, “let us go into this ship, and see what there is in it.”
So they went on board, and found it full richly garnished, with a fair cabin all hung with doth of silk; and while they were gazing upon it, the ship suddenly left the land again, and went into the middle of the water. By this time it was dusk, and all at once there were a hundred torches about the sides of the ship that gave forth a great light. Then suddenly twelve beautiful damsels appeared, and they saluted King Arthur on their knees, calling him by his name, and bade him welcome, telling him he should have the best cheer they could give. They led the king and his two companions into the cabin, where was a table richly appointed with all kinds of meats and wines. King Arthur and King Urience and Sir Accolon fared sumptuously, for they were very hungry after the chase. When the supper was over, all three were sleepy, and the damsels conducted each to a sleeping chamber that was nobly arrayed, where they lay on soft pallets, and soon were buried in deep slumber.
When King Urience awoke, he found himself, to his great marvel, in the chamber of his wife Morgan le Fay at Camelot. How this could be he understood not, for when he had fallen asleep he had been full two days’ journey from Camelot. But Arthur did not fare so well, for when he awoke he discovered that he was in a dark prison, and heard all about him the groans and complaints of woful knights. Then he said,—
“Who are ye that thus complain?”
“We are,” answered one of them, “twenty good knights that are here prisoners. Some of us have lain here seven years, and even more, and some for less time.”
“For what cause?” asked King Arthur.
Then the knights told him that the lord of the castle was a rich baron named Sir Damas, who was one of the falsest knights alive, full of treason, and an arrant coward. He had a younger brother named Sir Ontzlake, who was a good and honourable knight, and a man of great prowess. But Sir Damas, by means of his riches and the men-at-arms he kept, had deprived Sir Ontzlake of much of his heritage, so that there was always a great warfare between them. Damas would never meet his brother in the field; and Ontzlake had offered to fight him, or any knight he could find in his stead, to settle their dispute in that fashion. But Damas would not fight himself, and he was everywhere so hated that he could get no knight to undertake his quarrel. So he lay ever in wait with his servants, and laid hold by treachery of every errant knight that came into his lands to seek adventures. Then he kept them in prison, till one of them should agree to fight Sir Ontzlake on his behalf; but thus far, not one had ever consented to do it.
When King Arthur heard this he was ill at ease; but he thought that he would rather undertake the battle, albeit it were in an unjust cause, than lie hungering in prison. As he sat there, a damsel came to him and asked him, “What cheer?”
“I cannot tell,” said King Arthur.