Geraint turned his horse's head to go towards the knight, whereupon the dwarf spurred forward and overtook him and lashed towards him with the long and knotted whip. The lash struck the mouth of Sir Geraint, and blood flowed, and dropped upon the silken scarf that he wore.
Instantly Sir Geraint turned, with sword half drawn, and the dwarf cowed and pulled back. But Sir Geraint thought it would be no vengeance to carve the dwarf's head from his shoulders, and to be attacked unarmed by the mail-clad knight.
He thrust his sword back with a clang into its scabbard, and rode towards the queen.
'Thou hast acted wisely and nobly, Sir Geraint,' said the queen, 'and I sorrow for the insult the craven knave hath placed upon thee.'
'Lady, I fear he was but copying his master,' said Geraint, whose eyes flashed with anger. 'But if your ladyship will permit me, I will follow this knight, and at last he will come to some town where I may get arms either as a loan or from a friend, and then will I avenge the insult which this stranger knight hath given to you, my queen and lady.'
'Go,' said Gwenevere, 'but I beg of thee, do not encounter with the knight until thou hast good arms, for he is a man almost as big as Sir Lancelot du Lake. And I shall be anxious concerning thee until thou dost return, or send tidings.'
'If I be alive,' said Sir Geraint, 'you shall hear tidings of me by to-morrow at evensong.'
Thus he departed. All that day Sir Geraint followed the knight and the lady and the page, keeping them in sight, though at a distance. Through the forest they went first, and thereafter the road ran along a ridge of high ground, with the great downs and combes falling and heaving below their feet, the sun flashing back from lakes and streams, the bees humming at the flowers in the grass, and the larks rising with thrilling song in the warm sweet air of the spring.
Sir Geraint loved it all, but he kept his eyes ever on the knight, who flashed as he moved far before him. At length he saw the towers of a high castle, and beneath it the red roofs of a little town nestling at the foot of the grey walls. They rode into the town, and as the haughty knight passed through it the people in the booths and cabins and those beside the way saluted him. He did not acknowledge any of their greetings, but looked before him proudly, as he had done when he rode through the solitary paths of the wilderness.
Sir Geraint looked about him as he rode behind, to see if there was any armourer or knightly person whom he knew, but there was none. When he saw the knight and the lady and the dwarf enter the castle, and was sure that they would sojourn there, he rode about the little town, and found it full of knights and squires, with armourers and others cleaning arms, sharpening swords and repairing harness. But no one did he know of whom to beg a suit of armour and a lance.