So those two armies met with a shock that might have been heard a league. In that shock of meeting one recoiled from the other by the force of the assault it had itself delivered. And many knights fell in that first assault, and most of those that fell died as they fell. For the horses pressed upon them with their hoofs and many died beneath that pressure. And after the horsemen came the yeomen afoot, and these ran hither and thither and slew many who yet lived.
Then those knights who were still a-horseback cast aside their spears, for they could not longer use their spears in that narrow pass, wherefore they cast them away and drew their swords. And with their swords they hewed about them from right to left, and from left to right. And so, in a while, the ground was littered with cantles of armor and with men lying dead or dying beneath the hoofs of the horses.
So that fierce battle began a little before the prick of noon, and it continued for all that afternoon, and it continued through the twilight of the evening and until the falling of the night.
Sir Mordred is defeated.
For that was the last and the greatest battle that King Arthur ever fought, and in it were slain twelve thousand knights and gentlemen and yeomen. But as night descended the army of Sir Mordred broke and fled from the field, and King Arthur was left the victor of that battle.
But when King Arthur sat his horse in the midst of the battle-field, he wept so that the tears ran in streams down his face. Yea, he tasted those tears in his mouth and they were salt to his taste.
For of all those knights who had once surrounded the Court of King Arthur and had made it so glorious, there were hardly any left. And of all those Knights of the Round Table who had once been his crowning honor, there were not twelve who were yet alive. All others had perished, and the ground was sown thick with them as the sea-shore is sown thick with the cobbles that lie upon it.
Wherefore, when King Arthur beheld all this ruin of his life, and when he heard the doleful groans of those who were wounded, and when he beheld those who were dead lying still in death and gazing with sightless eyes up into the sky, the tears ran from his eyes in great streams and traced down his face and into his beard, so that he tasted the salt of those tears.
For now indeed the glory of his reign was past, and nothing remained for him but an empty kingdom devoid of all honor and all that was of worth. “Alas, and woe is me!” cried he, “for my fate hath now overtaken me and my day is done.”
