ind her sin, and remembered that for
Mordred her name was a hissing. Her lord she had shamed, and set her
love on her husband's sister's son. Moreover, she had wedded Mordred
in defiance of right, since she was wife already, and so must suffer
reproach in earth and hell. Better were the dead than those who lived,
in the eyes of Arthur's queen. Passing heavy was the lady in her
thought. The queen fled to Caerleon. There she entered in a convent
of nuns, and took the veil. All her life's days were hidden in this
abbey. Never again was this fair lady heard or seen; never again was
she found or known of men. This she did by reason of her exceeding
sorrow for her trespass, and for the sin that she had wrought.

Mordred held Cornwall in his keeping, but for the rest the realm
had returned to its allegiance. He compassed sea and land to gather
soldiers to his banner. Saxon and Dane, the folk of Ireland and
Norway, Saracen and pagan, each and all of them who hated Arthur
and loathed his bondage, Mordred entreated to his aid. He promised
everything they would, and gave what he could, like a man whom
necessity drives hard. Arthur was sick with wrath that he was not
avenged of Mordred. He had neither peace nor rest whilst the traitor
abode in his land. Arthur learned of Mordred's strength in Cornwall,
and this was grievous to him. His spies brought tidings of the snares
that Mordred spread, and the king waxed heavier thereat. Arthur sent
after his men to the very Humber. He gathered to himself so mighty
a host that it was as the sand for multitude. With this he sought
Mordred where he knew he could be found. He purposed to slay and make
an end of the traitor and his perjury alike. Mordred had no desire to
shrink from battle. He preferred to stake all on the cast, yea, though
the throw meant death--rather than be harried from place to place.
The battle was arrayed on the Camel, over against the entrance to
Cornwall. A bitter hatred had drawn the hosts together, so that they
strove to do each other sore mischief. Their malice was wondrous
great, and the murder passing grim. I cannot say who had the better
part. I neither know who lost, nor who gained that day. No man wists
the name of overthrower or of overthrown. All are alike forgotten, the
victor with him who died. Much people were slain on either side, so
that the field was strewn with the dead, and crimson with the blood
of dying men. There perished the brave and comely youth A