The grim face of Sir Gawaine went pale, and with an iron hand he seized the shoulder of the squire and shook him in his rage.
'Have a care, thou limb of Mordred's, if thou speakest lies,' he said. 'I would not have them dead for all this realm and its riches. Where is my young brother, Sir Gareth?'
'Sir, I tell ye truth,' said the man, 'for I know how heavy would be your anger if I lied in this. Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris are slain, and all good knights are mourning them, and in especial the king our master.'
Sir Gawaine took a step backwards and his face went pale and then it darkened with rage.
'Tell me who slew them?' he thundered.
'Sir,' replied the man, 'Sir Lancelot slew them both.'
'False knave!' cried Sir Gawaine, 'I knew thou didst lie.'
He struck the man a great buffet on the head, so that he fell half dazed to the ground.
'Ha! ha! thou lying talebearer!' laughed Sir Gawaine, half relieved of his fears, yet still half doubtful. 'To tell me that Sir Lancelot slew them! Why, man, knowest thou of whom thou pratest? Sir Lancelot to slay my dear young brother Gareth! Why, man, Gareth loved Sir Lancelot as he loved me—not more than he loved me, but near as much; and Sir Lancelot was ever proud of him. 'Twas he that knighted my young brother Gareth, brave and hearty, noble of mind and goodly of look! He would have stood with Lancelot against the king himself, so greatly he loved him. And thou—thou foul-mouth!—thou tellest me that Lancelot hath slain him! Begone from my sight, thou split-tongue!'
'Nevertheless, Sir Gawaine,' said the man, rising, 'Sir Lancelot slew them both in his rage. As he would—saving your presence—have slain you had you stood between him and the queen at the stake.'