“You know many of the knights and gentlemen famed for arms in Britain?”
“I may so boast myself.”
“I was once befriended, a piece of passing courtesy, yet I have always been curious to learn the character and estate of the man who did me this service. Have you heard of a knight named Pelleas?”
Gorlois fingered his sharp-peaked black beard, and looked blankly irresponsive.
“I have never known such a knight,” he said.
“Strange.”
“Never so. We men of the woods and moors often ride under false colours, sometimes to try our friends on the sly, sometimes to escape cognisance. The man who befriended you may have been Pelleas in your company.”
Igraine cut in with a laugh.
“And Ambrosius at home,” she said; “even Princes love masquerading in strange arms. Meadow-flower that I am, I have never seen the stately folk of the court—Ambrosius or Uther. I have heard Uther is an ugly man.”