408: Knights of the Round Table: Hither and Thither

This week on Myths and Legends, we're back in the stories of King Arthur's Knights, and we'll see what you should pick.

And we'll see what you should pick if you have the choice between a terrible monster, the land of wickedness, or a day at the beach.

The creature this time is what happens when all your unplayed games develop sentience.

This is Myths and Legends, episode 408: Hither and Thither.

This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore.

Some are incredibly popular tales you might think you know, but with surprising origins.

Others are stories that might be new to you, but are definitely worth a listen.

Today, we're back in the legends of King Arthur.

We've told many Arthurian stories over the years, and if you didn't know, we actually have a book coming out with William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins.

It's scheduled for fall of 2026, so next year.

In the meantime, though, we have the standalone story of Sir Morian.

As usual, we'll start not with Sir Morian, but with his parents.

Wow, that was amazing, Sir Aglaval said, pulling up his trousers.

Well, gotta go.

Where are you going, sweetie?

The princess of the West African kingdom sat up in bed.

Oh, yeah, I told you about that.

It's this knight I'm looking for.

That's why I'm here, actually, he laughed.

Yes, from King Arthur's court in Camelot, we knights swore that we would not rest until we found our lost comrade from the round table.

We would not spend more than a night, or maybe two, in any one spot, until they found him.

The princess smirked.

It had been many nights since he rode into her kingdom.

All the same, I really gotta go.

He began looping the laces through his old-timey medieval shirt.

Before you accuse me of playing fast and loose with the time period and details, the Arthurian legend is the proverbial king of playing fast and loose with time period and details.

I mean, they have knights and plate armor in the sixth century.

Anyway, I just have to ask, the princess said, what's the name of this knight that everyone's looking for?

Only the greatest knight in all the world, Sir Lancelot.

Sir Aglival laughed and ran his fingers through his hair.

The princess blinked and wrapped the blanket tighter.

Did he really expect her to believe that he was searching for the greatest knight in the world, and that knight was named Sir Lancelot?

He could come up with something better than that.

No, that that actually is his name.

Look, I really gotta do this.

I think it's safe to say he didn't come this far south.

Probably have this whole continent buttoned up.

I will be back though, really.

You'll come back and marry me because I could be with child, the woman said.

Sir Aglaval grew serious.

He understood.

He had to do this, though.

He made a vow, but he would make another one here today.

He would be back.

He loved her and wanted to marry her.

They kissed and he left

14 years later, Yvaine cried out in the throne room of King Arthur.

Why do you keep doing that?

And 14 years later?

14 years from what?

Arthur said, before waving over his wine.

One of the good things about being alive in the Middle Ages was that it was never too early to start drinking, because the water was atrociously dirty.

14 years from 14 years ago, today actually.

I just thought it made things sound more significant, you know?

It feels like a day, an important day, Yvaine said.

Just as the bloody knight outside fell from his equally bloody horse.

Yvain stood up and pointed.

See?

Huh?

Arthur downed his goblet.

No.

A bloody knight wandering into his throne room didn't mark an important day.

It marked like a Tuesday that happened all the time.

Watch.

He'll get down from his horse.

Oh, can't stand.

The knight dropped to his knees.

Oh, but wait, he's so bloody from this serious, important battle that he can't even manage that.

Arthur waved it on, and the man collapsed.

But he's so honor-bound to surrender to me that he'll keep crawling toward the throne, getting my nice carpets all bloody.

Arthur waved for Gawain.

Get him the herb.

Herb?

Yvain asked.

Kay, Arthur's adoptive brother, wedged between Arthur and his nephew, Yvaine, yes.

The herb that stops people from bleeding, temporarily.

Yvain squinted at the knight who was eating the herb.

He

thought that that was probably just clotting and the act of not dragging your wounds along the stone floor.

But he had zero real medical training, so what did he know?

Also not mentioning the fact that both the guy who was administering the medicine and the guy who ordered it also had zero real medical training.

What happened?

Who sent you to us to surrender?

Arthur said.

Woe, mine is a tale of woe, the knight cried out.

'Tis seven years, seven years since I lost all my goods.

No, don't start seven years ago, Arthur demanded.

Start with today.

Who?

But it was too late.

I'll paraphrase because it is not relevant to our larger story.

The knight lost all his money and poverty pressed in on him sorely.

All the money that his father left him disappeared at tourneys and tables, and he spent it all.

So he began challenging travelers on the road.

He would ride up to a pilgrim or a merchant who had fine goods and challenge them for their goods.

In that way, he would earn money.

That's...

that's robbing people, right?

Yvain looked around for confirmation.

Kay nodded.

Yeah.

Yeah, Arthur agreed.

No, I wasn't robbing them.

I was challenging them, and the loser paid, the knight laughed.

If they chose not to fight, they could forfeit the prize right away.

But they were what?

Religious pilgrims and merchants and travelers.

That's that's robbery.

That's literally highway robbery.

The man said no, those were legitimate challenges, right?

Oh no.

Yeah, so I'm guessing that you challenged a real knight and not some unarmored peasant, and

Arthur pointed to the deep gashes in his arms, legs, face, and torso.

The knight yielded himself to the stranger, who took his armor and demanded he present himself as prisoner to King Arthur.

Now we're back to it.

Who demanded this of him?

Arthur waved for another goblet.

The Scarlet Knight, the stranger declared, and the whole court went silent.

The scarlet knight?

The one everyone had been looking for since he ran off and absolutely annihilated Sir Kay on horseback?

We jousted and I lost, Kay fumed.

Hm, I'm not sure I would call that jousting,

Goyne noted.

Like, can you joust a hay bale?

Like, if I stomp on an apple, would you call that a fight?

Kay,

Sir Kay, Arthur's Seneschal, stood.

He wouldn't put up with this.

He was going going out after the Scarlet Knight.

Obviously not, Arthur said.

He knew he should put it in some way that helped Kay save face, but Kay brought this on himself.

He was so viciously owned by the Red Knight that he couldn't walk for weeks.

No, this was S-tier level work.

This was a job for Gawain and Lancelot.

Gawain and Lancelot were the heaviest of hitters.

Like Sammy Sosa and Mark Maguire, Iron Man and Captain America, Batman and Superman, they go back and forth on who's the best knight in the world, with Gawain occupying that spot until the High Middle Ages, when the French decided to add to the legends, benching King Arthur in his own story, and bringing in a French knight who was not only super skilled but extremely attractive.

Even to the the queen.

That might have consequences.

Not in this story, though.

In this story, they're just two superstars looking for, perhaps, the third best-known knight in the world.

Percival.

I actually don't know too much about this guy, Lancelot said.

You know, I'm a little spotty on the details myself, Gawain replied.

He just showed up one day.

Apparently he'd been living in the woods with his mom who went a little...

overprotective after his dad died.

Gawain shook his head.

Okay, but how'd he become this red knight that everyone's looking for?

Lancelot said.

But noticed that Gawain was looking at something just over the next hill.

A knight, in black armor, sat atop his horse, far in the distance.

He must have spotted them that same moment because, spurring on to a gallop, he closed the gap, and it wasn't ten minutes until he stood before them.

He took off his helmet.

Now, we don't usually discuss skin color, but it is noteworthy for this character, because the character, Sir Morian, is, in fact, black.

And I will say, Medieval Britain was more diverse than many depictions give it credit for, and that's probably why it was not a big deal for Gawain and Lancelot.

What was a big deal was what he said

Knight, now give me to wit one thing which I desire, or guard ye against my spear.

The truth will I know.

I shall tell ye herewith my custom.

What knight soever I nay meet, or he stronger than five men and I knew it well, yet I would not hold my hand for fear or favor, but he should answer me, or I should fight against him.

Now, sir knight, give me answer, by your troth, so truly as ye know, to that which I shall ask ye, and delay not, otherwise may ye well ru it.

Now, this is not noteworthy for a knight.

Knights challenge each other all the time.

The issue here isn't his words, really, and there were a lot of them.

Basically, he said, I have a request of you, and if you don't answer me, I'll fight you.

But once again, the issue weren't his words, but who those words were directed at.

Um, hey, bud.

Nice little wordy words you got there, first things first.

Slow your roll.

Do you have any idea who you're talking to?

And you know who makes me do things?

No one.

That's who.

And that's who I'm talking to.

No one.

That's you.

Lancelot Lancelot spat an overly wordy burn.

Gawain tried to suss out that one to see if it worked, and it was clumsy, but he supposed it did.

Man, Lancelot was mad today.

That was usually Gawain's thing, the anger.

Lancelot had been in a bit of a sour mood since having to leave the castle, complaining that he was the queen's knight, and it should be her to send him on a quest.

Or not, or just like keep him around as her own personal private guard.

Whatever the reason, he didn't get in the way of a knight challenging another, or the one being challenged.

As a quick sidebar, it's kind of telling for the state of a society where there's an avenue for two men to legally fight each other, possibly to the death.

There were rules, though, and knights generally didn't fight each other to the death.

It was actually pretty shameful for one knight to kill another, if the other was given the opportunity to yield.

But if they refused to take the opportunity to yield,

as was happening now an hour later,

guys,

Gawain sat off by his horse with her two squires.

They had jousted at first, of course, and both their lances broke on the other's armor.

So they dismounted and set at it with their swords, which apparently sparked on each other's knight helmets and shoulders.

There's really no healthy and safe way for a full-grown man to hit you with a bar of metal as hard as he can.

And while I think, oh, they're wearing armor, not only do you have the force of being hit, but the armor doesn't protect everywhere.

There were gaps, and, an hour plus on, Gawain could see blood flowing from the gaps in both men's armor.

But they were unyielding, both literally and figuratively.

They were going to kill each other.

Cawain sighed and rose.

All right, all right.

He swung his armored arms, getting the pair to stop.

Come on, break it up, stop it.

They actually did.

It wasn't all that difficult to stop a guy who had been swinging a metal sword and hitting another guy and being hit in turn to take a little bit of a breather.

I won't go so far as to say that the round table was like a very muscular kindergarten class because that would be unfair.

The kindergartners are generally expected to try to talk it out before they try to murder each other for an hour.

For nights though, talking it out apparently was a last resort.

Goyne used the opening to chastise the new guy, because that went so well for Lancelot, telling him that he needed to be more polite, Needed to have manners when meeting new people.

If he had just asked them politely, it would have been fine.

The man laughed.

And who was he to be giving a stranger a lesson in manners?

He was a knight just like them.

And who did they think they were?

Lancelot and Gawain?

The two greatest knights in the world?

And if we were, would you just like chill out and stop fighting?

No, no, no, Lancelot swung his gauntlet.

This was a fight, and he intended to see it through.

Gawain said, Lancelot, please, can we just ease up?

Lancelot said, no.

This guy shamed him by asking him an urgent question.

If this guy wanted to die, well, that's how you die.

You ask Lancelot a slightly impatient question.

Gawain sighed.

And he was asking Lancelot, by Lancelot's loyalty to his uncle, King Arthur, and Arthur's queen and wife, that he stop fighting.

Gawain knew that, for some reason, whenever he asked Lancelot to do something in the queen's name or for her sake, he would do it.

Weird.

Lancelot said that he would relent, but only because Gawain asked that way and only because, technically, the stranger didn't challenge him and he wasn't in the habit of murdering travelers who didn't challenge him first.

Only, travelers who did challenge him.

And at that, both Lancelot and the stranger collapsed on the grass.

Sir Aglival?

Brother to Sir Percival?

Lancelot shook his head.

He couldn't say he had heard of the man, but they were both out looking for Sir Percival.

He was supposed to be some knight of destiny or something, but he just took off.

Feels like there's more of a story there that could be explained in more detail in a book that's scheduled to come out in fall of 2026.

That's a specific number, Gawain mused before taking a bite of his bread.

Lancelot shook his head.

Yeah, didn't know.

It just came to him.

Who is your dad looking for when he left your mom, shaming her and eventually you, leading you on this quest where you would knight yourself and be able to hold your own against the best in the land?

Gawain asked.

Who is the best in the land that you're referring to?

Sir Morian, the stranger smiled.

Is he around here?

Have I met him?

He could see his former opponent's jaws clench.

No, he was joking.

Um, his dad left to look for Lancelot?

Sir Lancelot back then was captured by a witch or something?

Frankly, it sounded made up.

Lancelot sat up straight, with the realization that he was the reason this guy's dad left.

He

furrowed his brow.

I forgive you, Lancelot said with a nod, for being so rude.

That's something that you did wrong.

Remember that.

So technically, you're in the red, so please keep that in mind when I say that I'm Lancelot, and I'm the reason your dad left.

Sir Morion might have been angry, but he had had some time, basically his whole life.

Growing up and while he traveled, he thought about his dad.

The man had chosen to leave.

He had sworn an oath, Morian understood that, and he either died or chose not to return.

If he died, Morion would pray for his soul.

But if he had chosen not to return, that was his choice, and his choice alone.

So no, he didn't blame Lancelot.

Lancelot nodded.

That was very mature of him.

That also meant that he was still in the red.

Lancelot, Gawain said, shaking his head.

Fine, we're square, Lancelot pursed his lips.

Forgiveness is a beautiful thing.

The men jumped at the sound of the hermit behind them.

They all spun around to see the hermit sitting outside his little wooden hermitage.

Ah, have you been there the whole time?

Gawain yelled.

Yes, the hermit replied.

Rude, Lancelot said.

You're sitting in front of my house, the hermit said.

But he supposed a lot of people did.

His house was on the way to that cross over there.

Which cross?

Sir Moraine asked.

The hermit pointed to the nice wooden cross, just off the crossroads.

No relation.

A knight and his wife were on a pilgrimage with a bunch of expensive stuff.

Some might say too much expensive stuff, because it was too much.

They were attacked by robbers who killed the knight.

The woman died instantly of a broken heart.

Or stabbing, we're not exactly sure.

In the knight's will it was declared that if he should ever be killed by bandits at a crossroad, they should build a cross there.

Presumably because they built a cross where he was killed by bandits.

At a crossroad.

Cool, Lancelot said, rolling his eyes.

Anyway, the knights you're looking for stopped stopped by there yesterday, the hermit said.

What?

Morion sat up.

The others chastising the man for burying the lead with his boring, confusing story.

He explained that yes, there had been a knight of King Arthur's court, and a scarlet knight, praying at the cross the other day.

He was sorry they found him so boring.

He was not used to talking.

Which way did they go?

Morian sat up, weighing in his head if he could justify fighting a hermit, like he had fought so many knights.

How should I know?

The hermit said.

How should you you're a hermit?

What do you even do all day?

Morian struggled to understand why you couldn't just glance and see which way two guys went at a crossroads.

Um, I'll have you know that I pray a lot and I make simple meals and I weave and craft simple items.

So you don't know where they went.

Gwen sped things along from my quick Google of what did hermits in medieval Britain do.

Well, they went one of three ways.

They came from the direction you all did.

And the cross is good, but it's a roadside attraction, not a destination.

It's like the world's second largest rocking chair west of St.

Louis on Route 66.

You'll go see it because it's right off the exit, but only because it's right there.

Going could sense that they were getting off track again.

So where do the other three paths go?

The answer was bad places, mostly.

On the first path, there was a dangerous beast that some say was the devil who had taken on flesh to kill some time and also many people before the end of the world.

He was larger than a horse and faster than a horse and more venomous than a horse.

That last one wasn't surprising, but it was true.

It had a venomous bite, but anyone who got close and who the venom touched would die within three days, even if it didn't break the skin.

They were lucky that the beast was as sleepy as it was deadly, because if it wanted to, it could lay waste to the whole world.

land of wickedness combined.

In fact, in 1120, the white Sir Morian noticed Gawain and Lancelot looking at each other, and both cry out, almost simultaneously, Dips.

Gawain slammed his gauntleted fist on his knee.

Man.

Lancelot laughed and pumped his fist.

Monster calling it, come on.

Gawain said, nope, way more glory.

Lancelot grinned and roasted.

Okay, well then I'm going to the land of wickedness.

That's the one that's way more wicked than Britain, despite somehow also still being in Britain.

Gawain sighed.

We're splitting up?

Sir Morian looked to both of them.

We?

Lancelot said.

But yes, it only made sense.

Three roads, three of them.

Why was he mad?

He got to go to the sea.

I want to find my father, and there's a man traveling with the Red Knight, Morian cried.

And they might have gone to the sea, Lancelot said as he was packing up.

Really, Morion was getting off easy.

Sir Morian said he didn't want to get off easy.

He wanted to join the round table.

He was just as strong as Lancelot.

Lancelot said, let's not be too hasty.

He was holding back back there.

You sure about that?

Gawain laughed.

Then Gawain turned to Morian.

They would make a deal to report back to the hermit on what happened.

That way they could keep up on what everyone else was doing.

And feeling everything?

If there was nothing at the sea, Morian could backtrack and follow him on his road.

He would have cleared the way at that point.

At that, they left the hermit, still going on about how dangerous boats were.

Lancelot left to face the beast, Gawain left to travel the land of wickedness, and Sir Morian to

go to the sea.

We'll catch up with all the knights on their various various quests, but that will be right after this.

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The next day, Gawain stood at breakfast.

He was addressing the lord that had taken him in and let him stay there for the night.

Your son was a terrible person and got what was coming to him.

I killed him, and I do it again, Gawain said.

That's fair, fair, and I completely understand, and I will not take retribution, the man's father, the lord of the castle, said.

As you know, I've pledged you safety as long as you're not only a guest in my house, but as long as you're in my land.

May I take you safely to the edge of my land with an armed escort?

That would be lovely, thank you.

Gawain accepted his sword from the man's seneschal.

and his horse from the man's grooms.

He was glad they were able to work this out so amicably and that it couldn't now go wrong in any conceivable way.

You know what?

This might have been a mistake, Gawain thought as he fell from his horse.

He drew his sword and it shattered with the first blow from the attacking knight.

It was a mistake.

You see, on his ride into this wicked land, he saw a knight leading a weeping young woman across a river.

Gawain thought that this guy might not be above board.

The fact that the woman was bound and struggling was a good indication.

And when he struck her with his armored gauntlet, Gawain's hunch was all but confirmed.

He caught up with them, demanded that the knight let the woman go, and the knight replied, in effect, stay out of it, this is evil land, we're evil here.

Yada yada yada, the knight died in an unfortunate accident when Gawain's sword went through his chin.

A couple things happened after that.

The woman's people caught up with her.

and revealed that Gawain was in fact right to rescue her.

The woman's impoverished father knew what a monster the knight was and refused marriage, so the knight justified his reservations and took her.

As the knight's people, who had spotted the fight from a distance, rode up, the woman's people said that they were grateful, but not grateful enough to stick around.

They were a bunch of peasants with clubs and pitchforks.

Good luck, though.

And Gawain had fantastic luck.

Cut to 20 minutes later, and 20 men dead or dying, with Gawain riding away not unscathed, but also not terribly scathed, like a quarter scathed.

He wasn't opposed to roughing it, but when you come upon a castle, well, you take the castle.

So he went in and found a lord and a host who was really proud of being a lord and a host, and who made a showy oath of helping people out.

And

what's this?

As he was eating with Gawain in the Grand Hall, he got terrible, terrible news.

His son was dead, along with the twenty-ish guys who were out with him.

As we generally try to avoid in today's world, and back then too, probably,

they brought in the dead body at dinner.

We talked about this on maybe the second episode of the podcast, but in Arthurian legends specifically, there's a trope that when someone is killed and their body is brought before the killer, they will bleed anew.

Since I've made fun of people dying from a broken heart and had numerous doctors write in over the years telling me that that is in fact a thing, I'm wary of saying that things are not medically true, but safe to say that it probably isn't the case that this happens in our world.

I'm not a coroner though.

It did happen in the world of the Lord and Gawain, but the Lord noticed and Gawain didn't.

Gawain's confession the following morning was because he was a good guy racked by guilt.

The Lord's forgiveness was because the Lord's guys were going to mess Gawain up the moment they were beyond the Lord's borders.

And they did.

Now, we've seen Gawain go full Batman and defeat 20 henchmen no problem.

But broken sword and cut saddle straps, Goen's outlook was pretty bad.

And then it was non-existent when a blunt sword caught his helmet and everything went black for the second most famous knight in the world.

Morian rode back to the crossroads.

The route to the sea had taken him him through the land of bandits, and if you're wondering how sustainable a kingdom of bandits is, it was completely desolate so the answer is probably not very.

His experience at the crossing with the ferryman was as upsetting as it was unproductive.

And he rode back through the land of bandits and then back to the hermit's shack, informing the hermit so the man could pass along the message, and then Sir Morian followed on Gawain's path.

It wasn't long before he saw Gawain's horse, but Gawain wasn't on it.

Next to the horse rode a bound man on an old nag.

In front and behind the man were a group of men who were escorting him back to the Lord's castle.

Wait, Gawain?

Sir Morian rode up alongside Gawain.

Oh, hey, Morian, Gawain said over a busted lip, turning his swollen eye toward the young knight.

How was the sea?

You crossed quickly, unless I was out for longer than I thought.

No, I couldn't get passage across the water, Sir Morian said.

The ferrymen saw him and then took off.

Gawain shook his head and then winced in pain, but that didn't make sense.

Sir Morian was a knight.

Why would they refuse him passage?

That literally never happened to Gawain or Lancelot.

Morian

waited a beat.

Gawain gasped.

Wait.

Yeah, no, it it happens.

That is so uncool, Gawain reeled.

Oh, yeah, no one is saying it's cool, but it

does happen, Sir Morian said.

And to take off at the sight of him, that was indecorous.

Gawain said that he was really sorry that that happened.

I appreciate that.

You and Lancelot and the Hermit and everyone have been just delightful, Morian said.

Wanna go mess him up?

We can go mess him up, Gawain floated.

Morian said he appreciated that too, but no, no.

Also, Gawain didn't look like he was in the position to mess anyone up.

Did he need rescuing?

Oh my gosh, yes, Gawain breathed.

If Sir Morian didn't mind.

Oh, not at all, Sir Morian said, and drew his sword.

It actually makes more sense to untie the ropes than to cut them, Gawain said, as Sir Morian sawed at his ropes a few minutes later.

Sir Morian's sword was a little dull.

The story details all the arms and heads lying around, from those not lucky enough to take off immediately as the fighting started.

Morian apparently gave them the opportunity to flee or, as he said,

choose their end.

As they saw a spear flying at Sir Morian's head and him, quote, smite it in twain as if it were a reed, they might have realized how final that decision really was.

It took leech craft, herbs, and two days at the hermit's shack, now charitably called a chapel, for Gawain to heal up.

The hermit wasn't exactly thrilled about the company.

You don't become a hermit if you like entertaining, doubly so because he warned Gawain about going down that exact road.

Oh,

I remember where your dad went, by the way, the hermit said to Sir Morian.

Sir Morian breathed.

Seriously, this guy and burying the lead, where did he go?

I just remembered He went toward the sea, the hermit said.

Oh, Morian frowned.

Oh, Gawain said, looking out the window.

It was Gareth.

Who's Gareth?

Sir Morian shook his head.

Oh, shoot.

Gareth's coming?

The hermit scrambled to tidy up and put out the good candles.

Who is Gareth?

Sir Morian asked again.

Only the son of King Lot of Orkney and Queen Morgas, the hermit shuffled all this clutter to the back room.

Yeah, so am I, Gawain said.

He's my younger brother.

Why didn't you roll out the red carpet for me?

The hermit laughed.

Gawain might be the nephew of King Arthur, but he was no Gareth.

Hey, Gerbear,

Gawain called from the window.

Sir Gareth reached for his sword to see who he was going to have to kill for calling him that, but relaxed when he saw that it was his older brother.

Gawain, oh my gosh, I'm so glad I found you, Gareth said, and then nodded to the hermit.

Hey, Hermie, and And then looked to Morian.

Who's this guy?

That's Sir Morian, son of Sir Aglaval, Gawain said.

Gareth nodded.

Well, a friend of Gawain's is a friend of his.

Sir Gawain unwound his bloody rags.

Oh, you look like you went to the land of wickedness, Gareth laughed.

Kill one of his sons, get ambushed.

I've been there.

Gareth looked to Morian.

The Lord had a lot of sons.

Do you come to this area of Britain a lot?

Gawain asked, kind of of answering his own question, though.

Obviously, yes.

Gareth accepted his favorite plate of food from the hermit.

You, I came here because you have to come back, though, to court, Gareth said.

We have to find Percival.

That's our quest right now, Gawain informed his younger brother.

Oh, Percival's old news.

Gareth sighed.

This was an all-hands meeting of the round table.

The king had been kidnapped.

Wait, King Arthur?

Gawain spun around.

Yeah, he was just out hunting and the Saxons kidnapped him.

Wouldn't have happened if you and Lancelot were there.

Now the kingdom was under siege by the Irish, so they sent me with wine and bread and stuff to come get you.

Gawain said that he hated to abandon his quest.

But if there was no king to return to, then he couldn't complete his quest.

Okay.

He'd go get Lancelot, and they'd head back.

Where's Lancelot?

Like, in the bathroom?

The hermit said he wished.

He tried to warn them.

Oh, he he didn't.

The rest of the men nodded.

Yeah.

Yeah, he did.

We'll see how things fared for Lancelot, who still isn't back yet, so that's a good indication.

But that will, once again, be right after this.

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To Lancelot's credit, he did think that killing a dragon that had ravaged the land, and killed every hero who tried to fight it before, and lived in a field of rusting armor and rotting corpses would be easier than this, despite all the things that I just said.

As for now, with his chainmail dangling, torn open at a gash in his chest, he was pretty sure he was going to die.

Now the dragon was taking one final lunge at the greatest knight of his age, and Lancelot bravely closed his eyes and held his sword close.

He couldn't hardly be blamed.

Every sword blow glanced off the dragon's hide like it was nothing, every spear shattered to splinters.

The dragon barreled toward him, and he waited to be ground down by the teeth and melted in stomach acid.

He felt something rush by him, a wind that was much more liquid than he was used to, like like a slimy rain, until a beating drum bumped against his shoulder.

He opened his eyes in confusion, and yeah, he was in the dragon's throat, but not in the way that he thought he would be.

His sword had caught the top of the dragon's esophagus and cut the creature, the dragon unable to slow its own momentum.

It tried to cry out through the cut and mangled throat, and Lancelot turned to see the dragon's beating heart right next to him.

And you don't get to be the best knight in the world by wasting opportunities like this.

He plunged his sword into the dragon's heart.

After extracting himself from the throat, he crawled out into the dragon's cave.

Wow, that was lucky.

Good thing no one saw that.

I saw that, a voice cried out.

Lancelot turned to see another knight, who had been crouching at the mouth of the cave.

Who are you?

Lancelot asked.

Me?

I'm just the guy who killed this dragon, the knight smiled, walking over to one of the dragon's claws and beginning to saw.

Lancelot took a step forward and then found he couldn't take another one.

Yeah.

Forgot about the poison spit, didn't you?

Lancelot swayed a bit and collapsed.

Okay, I'll get Lancelot.

It'll take me half a a day at most, Goane said.

Well, you're my quest.

I'm not leaving without you.

Gareth groaned.

Then help him, Goane pointed.

What's his quest?

Gareth should probably start taking a notepad with him.

Going explained about Sir Aglival and ultimately the ferrymen.

They did what?

Gareth said.

Just hang back a bit.

Wait till I wave you in, Gareth said at the crossing.

He spurred his horse from the trees.

Hi, my friend and I need a ride across this channel here.

Gareth rode up to the ferryman, who was beaming.

It was Gareth.

He was so excited.

Everyone in the region loved the knight who had done so much for them.

He was going to be able to tell his grandkids some day that he ferried Gareth.

Yes, absolutely.

Any

Then he paused as Gareth waved to the trees and Morian rode out this is my friend he is a knight just like me and my brothers if you don't have respect for him you don't have respect for me now in the name of the same God who made us all take us across the ferryman huddling and trying to unsuccessfully bury his own head in his torso to hide his shame, took them on the quickest ferry ride possible.

I will say, as a quick note, this is not me making this part up.

This work is from the 14th century and it's pretty much as I wrote it.

I posted it in the show notes.

The ferryman did tell them exactly where he had seen the Red Knight and the Knight from King Arthur's Court go.

They found themselves at a monastery.

Gareth called out, the door opened, and after passing gardens with monks, and entering the simple stone building, Sir Morian was face to face with the man he had been seeking his whole life.

Sir Aglaval, his father.

I'm sorry, Sir Aglaval said, struggling to sit up.

Sir Percival, his brother, checked his bandages.

Sir Morian said, sorry, sorry, he never came back.

Morian's mother was disinherited because of him.

He spent his whole life being mocked by his peers.

He didn't have friends.

No one would come near them.

His mother worked and he fought, all with the hope of one day coming here, to Britain, and finding his father.

Aglilval nodded.

That was fair.

It's no consolation now.

But he did always intend to come back.

He had to continue his search for Lancelot back then, but he had traveled too far and tarried too long.

He didn't know that there were repercussions for Morian's mother, and he didn't even know Morian existed.

He had always

a monk here, who might be able to heal him.

He took Morian's hand.

He wanted to do right by his son.

He would do anything Morian asked.

What should he do?

Morian wanted nothing more than for Sir Aglaval to return home with him, to stand before his people and take responsibility for his actions fourteen years prior.

But the trip would kill him.

Of that Morian was certain.

Stay, Morian said.

Arthur is under attack.

It's your duty, and now mine, to see to his safety.

After I have fulfilled our family's oath, you will fulfill my request and go to my mother with honor, clearing her name and helping her to regain her lands.

You are my father, Morian managed, and I will always think of you as such.

Sir Oglaval was moved not just by Morian's words, but by the man he had grown into.

He nodded in agreement.

The stranger who was sawing off the dragon's toe wiped sweat from his brow.

He muttered that that took forever, like half a day, long enough for someone to ride here from the crossroads.

Lancelot groaned, unable to move.

Standing and turning, the stranger ran right into Gawain, who had followed the trail of death straight to the cave.

You gonna leave my friend here to die?

Gawain said, blocking the stranger as he tried to move left, then right around the knight.

Lancelot, you know this guy?

Gawain called out.

Lancelot shook his head.

What should I do with him?

Kill him, Lancelot managed.

I shall die more easily knowing that he dies first.

Gawain shrugged.

The stranger heard the man.

He lopped off the stranger's head.

Quick note, there's a side plot where the king in the region declared that whoever killed the dragon could marry his daughter, and the guy was going to take credit for it.

It was 100% the case that Lancelot had no interest in marrying the daughter for different reasons, but this guy apparently still had to die.

Moving on, Gawain declared that Lancelot wasn't that far gone.

He knew of someone nearby who could help.

And that's how the hermit, who was a hermit and lived in a hermitage because he wanted to be alone, found himself with five knights as house guests.

Percival had come along too, now that his brother was stable.

Lancelot was learning, as Gawain was asking the hermit to please, heal the best knight in the world, that King Arthur, husband of Guinevere, had been kidnapped.

Oh no,

Lancelot said.

Well, you know, these things happen.

You don't get to four million subjects without making a few enemies.

Oh, and the queen is besieged by the King of Ireland, who is now claiming Great Britain since it is without a king, Gareth informed the group.

The hermit shook his head and turned back to Lancelot, who was now no longer there on the pallet bed.

He was trying and failing to mount his horse.

Even if the whole world were to gain, I would not stand by while she suffers, Lancelot managed.

And was mostly right about that, because he couldn't stand.

He collapsed.

Lancelot came to about an hour outside of Camelot.

They were off on the side of the road, and Gawain was administering his medicine, a mixture of herbs the hermit had made for them to take on the road, somewhere just far away from his hermitage.

Villagers were still fleeing, taking their possessions in carts and trying to get away from the advancing forces.

Sir Morian stepped out and stopped a few, asking what was going on at the castle.

And they told him, The queen was besieged.

She only had ten knights and a dozen or so foot-soldiers, but they had no idea how long she could hold out.

Those who were in town have pushed the army back long enough for some to escape, but they would redouble their efforts.

The attacking king has vowed to besiege the castle for seven years to meet his aim.

Then said Sir Morian, Tis good that we're here and brave the venture for the sake of our king and lord.

Twere a sin and a disgrace to yield up the castle.

We should better adventure our lives and see the matter to an end.

Gawain and Percival looked up to the castle town, though, far in the distance, with the army already closing in.

But how, with an army surrounding it, would they get into the castle to defend it?

Lancelot said, Don't ask, because he didn't want to talk about it, but he actually knew some secret ways in and out of the castle at Camelot.

What does L plus G mean?

Percival studied the markings on the wall of the secret passage.

It's probably left over from the Romans.

I wouldn't worry about it, Lancelot said as they opened the doorway and found the main throne room buzzing with activity.

Resolve was low, but now that Lancelot, Gawain, and Percival were there, they thought that they might have hope.

But, as the story says, those three gave them hope, but Sir Morian gave them fire.

For the first time in his life, Morian, whose mother had been abandoned by her own family and whose father had left entirely, now had a purpose.

These lands, or a portion of them, were his birthright.

If Camelot fell, then the kingdom of Pelenor, Sir Aglaval's kingdom, fell.

So Camelot would not fall.

He volunteered to lead the vanguard the following morning, and, being so inspired by his bravery, and also not wanting to appear cowardly themselves, every knight in attendance volunteered to go with him.

It wasn't even the vanguard at this point, it was the main force, their only force.

And they never gave up ground.

They attacked at first light, swords flashing at the sunrise, pressing through the surrounding forces.

They were desperately outnumbered, but they attacked early and with ferocity.

The Irish forces were spread out to prevent escape.

But Morian and his knights weren't trying to escape.

Something the king realized when he woke up with a sword at his neck.

The Irish king chuckled.

Uh, okay,

let's make a deal.

They wanted King Arthur back, right?

Because as it turns out, it was the Irish, not the Saxons, who had him.

It's unclear what happened to the Saxons, but I have three theories.

One, it was the Irish the whole time, taking the king and then using a kingless land as pretense to try to take over Great Britain.

Two, we only ever heard about the Saxons second hand, and thus only heard unsubstantiated rumors.

Or three,

the writers realized they still had to resolve the Saxon bit and quickly pivoted, putting Arthur into the hands of the Irish and retconning it in the last few pages.

Any one of those works, to be honest, but the story doesn't offer support for any of them.

So it's kind of a choose your own adventure thing when it comes to wrapping up our story.

Trading a king for a king, getting assurances that they would stop trying to kidnap royalty, the Irish army sailed home.

Sir Morian received two bits of news.

One, his father, Sir Aglaval, had pulled through and was waiting for Morian at the monastery.

And two,

he was being honored by the king.

Alongside his uncle, Sir Percival, Sir Morian was lauded above all others for bravery in leading the charge.

A knight deftly moving in that L-shape across the battlefield in order to capture the king.

But really, it was one of the happiest days of his life.

He had saved Arthur's kingdom and thus the kingdom of his father.

His kingdom.

But that wasn't the happiest day.

That was weeks later when he rode with Sir Aglaval back to his mother's kingdom in West Africa.

Morian...

did kill a dozen nobles who had conspired to keep his mother from the throne, but this is a happy day, so we'll just say that they were evil and move on.

And after 14 years apart, Morian's father and mother were married, and Sir Aglaval stayed in the kingdom where his wife ruled as queen.

Sir Morian was once again the prince, but he was also now a knight of the round table.

He had lived in two worlds, both his father and his mother's, and he was celebrated in both.

I like this tale.

Like I said, it's from the 14th century, and it's Dutch, which probably explains the subtle differences in story from the French and British versions.

Next week, we're back in the story of Renard, the fox, and we'll see why you don't let a horse do dental work.

The creature this time is the kaichiko, the clamshell kid, a yokai from Japan.

So, I like board games.

I'm terrible at them, but they're fun.

It's the most annoying thing, though, when you open up a board game to start playing and the pieces are everywhere, or as was the case growing up with two younger siblings, they were missing.

The kaichiko makes me want to be a little more understanding toward my siblings.

Even though my version of Forbidden Bridge did get absolutely annihilated Christmas morning 1993, and I'm still apparently holding on to that.

In medieval Japan, there was a game where the pieces were shells.

The right size and shape shells were painted with scenes from famous plays or stories, and it was called Kayawase.

And it was both a matching game and a keepsake that would get passed on for generations.

I have a whole cupboard of board games that I haven't played in years because me and all my friends have had young kids, But I can't imagine getting someone else's that was probably very nice at the time, but it's a game that you maybe didn't understand or even want.

It would be super easy to set it aside as, best case scenario, something to show friends and neighbors.

In all likelihood, it's going directly into whatever the medieval Japanese version of the crawl space was.

The problem?

Games want to be played.

Which, you know, thanks folklore for that extra level of expectation from both my board game drawer and Steam library.

As we've talked about when it comes to Japanese folklore, when things are around long enough, they gain sentience.

So when your old game is around long enough, it gets a soul and becomes the clamshell kid.

As if you weren't guilted enough, now there's a child just sitting in a box in your basement, waiting for someone, anyone, to come play with him.

Of course, when you finally do get to the game and open it up, you'll find that in your absence the child was playing with the game and, like my version of Forbidden Bridge, lost or broke enough of the pieces as to make it unusable.

So, don't feel too bad for him.

That's it for this week.

Myths and Legends is by Jason and Carissa Wiser.

Our theme song is by Broke for Free, and the Creature of the Week music is by Steve Combs.

There are links to even more of the music we used in the show notes.

Thank you so much for listening, and we'll see you next time.

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Huh.