417: Guy of Warwick: Don't Be That Guy

Quick disclaimer, and I know there have been a lot of these, but there are multiple bloody duels this week, and a brief mention of suicidal ideation.

I try not to get too graphic, and it's probably okay for kids and young teens, but some people still appreciate these notices.

Anyway, please see the post on mythpodcast.com for more details.

This week, on Myths and Legends, it's the story of Guy of Warwick, a medieval English folk hero.

We'll see why the best break for all those bloody deathmatches you're doing is to take a walk and to treat yourself to some bloody death matches.

And how, if that noble woman you love wants you to become a vicious killer to earn her affection, your princess might be in another castle.

The creature this week is a dog, a big, mean one, who definitely isn't a cow minding its own business at night.

This is Myths and Legends, episode 417.

Don't be that guy.

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.

We're telling the story of Guy of Warwick, and it's a long one this time.

So I'll give a real quick backstory.

Guy is from Warwickshire.

in England, and his was an extremely popular story in the Middle Ages.

Set in the 10th century, but circulated between the 1200s and 1500s, Guy is a flawed chivalric hero who was actually referenced by Shakespeare.

This is set during the time of the Anglo-Saxon kings and the Holy Roman Empire.

And we'll dive right in and see Guy standing at the tallest tower in Warwick.

Tears streaked Guy's face as he teetered on the edge of the tall tower of Warwick Castle.

It was still early.

No one would see him here.

Not until...

after.

Not that it mattered.

He was no one.

She made that clear.

He wasn't a lord.

He wasn't a noble.

Not even a knight.

He was the son of the steward.

Seward.

S-Y-W-A-R-D.

If Seward never made a joke that he was born for the role of Steward, he was missing out on some quality content.

But he wasn't born into the role.

Steward had been a normal man, born into a normal family, and he had worked his way into the role, taking opportunities when they arose and making them when they didn't.

His son had bigger ambitions.

Well, at least his heart did.

Felice, the daughter of Earl Rohand, of work.

Guy, tasked with serving dinner one night, helping out his father in the absence of the normal servants, saw her, and his life changed.

He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep for thinking of her.

It could very well be a death sentence if he confessed his love for her, but the words had to come out, or else they would burn him from the inside out.

What happened, though, was much worse than anything the Earl could do.

Do you think I'm stupid?

she said.

I mean, you're obviously stupid, obviously, but do you think I am as well?

Her maids entered and then quickly exited the room.

By coming to me with such boldness, you've shamed not just yourself, but me and my father.

The richest, most powerful men in the world have sought my hand, and I've rejected them.

But you, you think you're worthy.

It's the arrogance.

But I have to wonder, think like if someone put a crown on a dog.

You wouldn't say that the dog is claiming to be king, because he has no idea what he's doing.

He's a dog.

Is that you?

Are you a dog?

Did you come here not knowing the implications of what you're asking?

Or did you come here with the knowledge that my father might have you pulled apart by wild horses if he knew?

Because that's what he'd do.

She paused and then pinched the bridge of her nose.

Get out, now.

Never come here again like this.

He sprinted off in tears.

His broken heart had led him to look out on the countryside of the Midlands in despair.

But no, no, he wouldn't.

He stepped back from the edge.

He would live, even if it was to be in pain.

But now he had a choice to make.

He could leave, go make his own way, far from here, where even the castle's name reminded him of his sorrow.

He could meet someone else, someone who would actually love him for him and not disregard him because of his station or his birth.

Or he could do that same thing again,

but this time show her his pain and make her feel really bad about it.

You see, two of those are are healthy options.

As he ran toward the hall, it was clear that he had not chosen the healthy options.

He's good looking, the lady's maids whispered behind Felice.

Oh yeah, and if a guy came to me on his knees weeping for love of me, I wouldn't do, well,

this, another replied.

Felice spun around.

Yeah, she could hear every word, even with the sobbing.

Did they want to marry him?

Is it on the table?

One of the maids pointed to herself.

Felice waved her hands for them to get out of here.

She would deal with this.

Look, I'm grateful that you love me.

Though I am suspicious of your understanding of that word, given that you hardly know me, she started.

Still, she was too harsh earlier.

But this wasn't some type of test for him to like disrespect her wishes and come here again.

It was dangerous.

If he chose to come back here without being a noble, say being knighted, he put his life at risk.

Guy sobbed, but she had to know.

You're not understanding me.

If you come back here without a title or at least a knighthood, you will be killed, she said.

and looked him in the eye with a nod.

His eyes widened and he stood up.

Wait, did that mean that if he became- became- Those are conclusions that you are drawing from that statement.

Good day, she said, and turned.

He ran from the room, but not in the crying, sad way he had before.

He had to go two floors and three rooms down.

He had to talk to the Earl.

You want to be a knight?

Why?

Your dad is killing at a steward and you're a shoe-in, the Earl informed the man.

But Guy waved his hands.

No, no, no, he had to be a knight.

I knew you've been really sad lately, Earl Rohan studied the man.

Will this make you feel better?

Yep.

Then it's done.

We're knighting on Sunday.

Congratulations, sir Guy, the Earl grinned, and was just happy to see the young man smile.

Also, it was nice to have a young, healthy knight.

With all their fighting and the terrible medical care in this time, those guys were always dying for this reason or that.

Guy could barely sleep waiting for Sunday, and the sword had barely left his shoulders when he was back in Felice's presence.

So?

Sir Guy now, huh?

Marry me?

She giggled.

Um, well,

he was closer, definitely, but he hadn't done anything yet.

A title was just words.

She couldn't reject the King of France, and then turn around and marry a recently minted knight with no feats or holdings to his name.

Is there a king of France in this time?

Guy cocked his head.

Who knows?

What I'm saying is, you have to prove you're better.

You have to prove you're worthy and not just to me.

Prove your honor so the whole land, the whole world knows.

Guy stood.

Okay, if that's what it took, he would do anything in order to win her.

The anguish of not being with her was unbearable, and he would fight any monster.

He took her hand, kissed it, and left the palace.

Dad, I'm a knight, Guy raised his sword.

Aw, his dad was so proud.

I must now go beyond the sea, to win renown and honor in foreign lands.

Aw, his dad was so sad.

His dad, though, did understand, and was just glad his son wasn't dying from a random, unknown malady anymore.

Something had changed to give him renewed motivation and purpose, and Seward the Steward was grateful for it.

He gave Guy bags of gold, horses, and tasked three trusted friends.

Slightly older knights, Herod, Tyri, and Uri, we'll see if they have the personality and are different enough to earn those silly, silly names.

Well, he tasked them to go with him.

Guy thanked his father and told the man to keep an eye on the road.

He would return a knight of great renown.

They went on to Somerset and sailed from the Bristol Channel around Cornwall before eventually making it to Normandy, France.

There are stories where a young person endeavors to make it on their own and find their fortune in the world.

Guy, it kind of already had a fortune, and not just at home, but honest person.

And he wasn't shy about using it.

You get into port with a few Sir Jorah Mormont knights at your side and you start throwing coins around and you're probably going to end up in the mansion of the more wealthy and connected men in the city.

It's just how the world works.

Another element to how this particular world works is young men charging at each other with weapons for entertainment and or glory in a time of, once again, subpar medical care.

The Emperor of Germany's daughter had called a grand tournament.

Guy sat back at the table.

The whole continent was assembling to determine who was the best knight.

Huh.

Okay.

And get this.

The winner gets a falcon.

The merchant put his hands to his head and did the whole mind-blown thing.

It was as pale as a swan.

Also, a horse said to be worth more than an entire kingdom by people who price horses and also kingdoms, I guess.

And two greyhounds.

Not one.

What are you going to do with one greyhound?

It'll get sad.

She's thought about this.

Oh, and you can marry her if you don't have a lady that's fairer, and trust me, from what I've heard, you don't.

The merchant grinned, before noticing his wife sitting next to him.

Which is a disgusting way to put that.

No interest in that last part for him.

He scowled, and then smiled at his wife, who was getting real tired of hearing this same conversation every night.

Guy agreed on the last part, at least.

His heart was taken.

And the pet store on offer didn't do much for him either.

But the glory-well, he wouldn't pass on that.

Where was this tournament?

Well, it's put on by the Emperor of Germany, so

probably Germany, that would that would be my assumption.

The host shrugged.

Earl Rohan read the letter over breakfast.

Wow, Guy was doing pretty well for himself on the continent.

He beat not just all of the knights in the tournament, but the emperor's cousin, Duke Otis,

and the emperor himself.

But Guy was so valiant that the emperor wasn't even mad and just goes on about how awesome he was.

He got

three greyhounds, a nice horse, and a falcon?

So cool, he won the tournament in Germany.

What's a Germany?

Probably the Holy Roman Empire, the advisor shrugged.

That sounded more period-appropriate.

Well, whatever it was, it sounds like Guy's fame had spread so far.

I mean, it made it to Warwick.

So even a good chunk of Britain knows about him now, Rohan marveled.

And he was Earl Rohan's knight.

Wow, what a guy.

In his advisor pointed, ha.

Fun times.

Rohan arched his eyebrows.

And he's getting married.

This caught Felice's attention, sitting at the table and listening to the news of the day.

Married.

Well, I would assume so, the Earl pointed to the letter.

It says here he won the heart of Blanche Fleur, the princess of Germany.

Holy Rome?

Holy Roman Empire, the advisor said again.

Yeah, the Earl continued.

said she was part of a prize for winning the tournament, quote, unless I have a fairer lady that loves me, end quote.

That's weird.

There's some stage directions here next.

It just says, Earl looks mournfully at Felice.

The Earl shrugged and looked mournfully at Felice.

Huh, weird.

Felice rolled her eyes and left the room.

So, Guy said when he arrived back at Warwick one year later, I'm not trying to talk myself up.

Guy paced the room while Felice stood there, because I don't need to, because I beat all the best knights on the continent and have a pending engagement to an empress.

You should marry her then, Felice said.

I accept your wait, what?

Guy stopped dead.

Yeah, if you want to marry her, you should marry her.

Not even sure why you came all this way to tell me that.

These are the Middle Ages and travel is lengthy and dangerous, Felice pointed out.

Guy said he knew travel was dangerous.

He did it for her and her hand.

Felice pointed there.

There it is.

She paused.

Look.

If she accepted his proposal today,

what would he do?

Lay down my sword and be by your side forever, he replied, taking her hand.

She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed it.

That was what she was afraid of.

His night training.

What did it consist of?

Guy froze his brow with a chuckle.

Nights do training?

I mean, he didn't know.

He watched some guys do it, and he did it.

He thought it was like breathing, something you did without thinking about.

Felice sighed.

I love you.

I do.

I actually do.

I didn't at first.

I mostly sent you to the continent to die when you wouldn't leave me alone.

But

I think you need to pursue this.

You are a natural.

If I were to marry you now, I would be doing you a great wrong.

You can be the greatest knight, not just for Britain, not just on the continent, but in the world.

I won't let you give that up yet, not for me.

Go.

Be all that you were made to be, and I will be here waiting for you upon your return.

Felice kissed him and left.

Now this was not the return Guy was hoping for.

It wasn't the return the Earl was hoping for because, now that Guy had proven himself to be special, he could hang out with all the other people that had been born special thanks to their superior blood or whatever nonsense the nobles told themselves, and the Earl could have a cool, young hunting buddy.

It especially wasn't the return his parents were hoping for because, with all of his winnings, honor, and fame, he had managed to return from Europe not dead, which was nice, given that he had gone there solely to fight guys with way more training than him.

They pleaded with him to stay.

He had already achieved way more than anyone ever expected, but he refused.

He left the next day.

As is to be expected, Guy kept winning.

He went across France, Proto-Germany, and on down to Italy before, getting down to Benevento, Italy, something unexpected happened.

He was wounded.

Now, over two years and dozens of fights, you'd think that this would have happened sooner.

But Guy was that good,

and it wasn't serious.

Just enough for him to wince every now and then and eventually have a cool scar.

But he did need to sit a few fights out.

But it also meant that he couldn't fight back as well as he otherwise would have been able to when 16 men ambushed him on the road.

Guy was riding on a mule.

On account of the last time he mounted his usual horse, he tore his stitches.

The pain was a lot in the hot Italian sun, and it distracted him.

He was so absorbed that he didn't notice the assassins until he saw the flashes of their blades in the sunlight, there in that lonely pass as they traveled between cities.

Some men traveled with the guys his father had given him.

As an attacker leaped from the rocks and buried his sword deep in the man's chest, going in at the neck, Guy froze.

For all of his bravado, for all of his fights, he never actually seen a man die.

And this was hardly a man.

He was basically a boy.

He was younger than Guy.

The assassin was good, and the rider didn't move again.

It was then that Guy heard the shouting in his ear.

It was Herod, his father's knight, telling him to go.

They were attacking everyone, but he Guy was the target.

They would cover his escape.

Go Guy sat up, his side rippling with pain.

No, they wouldn't stay and die for him.

He would never leave them behind.

Herod nodded and threw Guy a sword.

Guy, Herod, Tyri, and Uri looked at the half-dozen attackers closing in on them, as well as the ones jumping from the trees and rocks, and they readied themselves for the fight.

Help, Guy managed before he fell from the horse.

Creaking on what could charitably be called a hinge, the door to the hermitage flew open and the man hobbled out, his legs still tingling from the long hours in prayer that morning.

Outside, a knight lay in a growing pool of his own blood, his armor broken and cut.

Behind his magnificent horse, peppered with the crimson spray of the fight it had just seen, it dragged a bloody blanket.

The kid, the knight, mumbled and screamed something in his sleep, talking about an ambush, about watching someone named Uri fall, about leaving Herod's body with the abbot so he could be buried with honor, and of so,

so many lives that he, Guy, had to take.

He cursed the name of some woman, Felice, that so many should die and that her love should cost him his soul.

Guy recovered under the skilled hands of the hermit and left the man his horse.

Soon winning another one, he continued fighting but did so without joy.

This was play acting, a silly pantomime of the real thing, and the real thing was horrific.

Yet, he had begun down this path not knowing where it led and, his friends and mentor having sacrificed everything for him, He didn't know what else to do.

This was who he was.

This was what he was.

So he did it.

He won everything.

He did it without fanfare, without celebration.

Combat was his vocation, and he went to work.

This didn't change when he actually found Herod sitting by the sea, a pilgrim in cloth, praying for his long-dead charge, Sir Guy of Wark.

The abbot, the half-dead, half-mad guy had left him with that day, was a better doctor than the half-dead, half-mad 20-something, and saw that the man was actually alive, nursing him back to health.

It was nice to have Herod, but not even the old knight could pierce the armor Guy now wore.

They returned to Britain, but not for long.

In an inn in London, they found a pilgrim from the lands of the emperor, in Germany, who told of a war.

The Holy Roman Emperor was besieging a town in southwestern France.

Well, besieging was a nice way to put it that implied two equal forces meeting in an agreed-upon battle.

In reality, it was a a hundred knights surrounding an unwalled town, taking any defense as provocation for violence.

They killed the knights of that region, and were running down any people trying to go in or out of Rencon, all because the Duke of the region accidentally killed the emperor's cousin in a joust.

It was going to be a massacre.

Guy thought about it.

Maybe there could be more to this life, where he fought and killed for his own glory and honor.

The emperor was going to massacre a city if Guy didn't come to its aid.

Maybe he could use his power to protect the weak against bullies and predators.

Besides, it was the honorable thing to do.

He and Herod rose and booked passage on the first ship, sailing back across the channel.

We'll see how Guy fights an empire, but that will be right after this.

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As Guy rode east, more and more knights flocked to his cause, and by the time they reached Rençon, they had a formidable force.

Not 100 knights who still camped outside of town, but enough to put up a fight.

And it might sound arrogant that Guy thought he could turn the tide of battle, but truly, if he hadn't showed up, all of those people would have been dead.

He led the charge and the knights that were the vanguard of the slaughter, who delighted in the subjugation and cruelty, fell.

Unlike his first fights, though, Guy wasn't scared.

Like Wolverine, he was the best at what he did, and what he did wasn't very nice.

It was, however, necessary.

The people sang his praises, and more knights arrived.

Guy pushed the empire back across the Rhine, expelling it from every city he came across.

And real quickly, I wondered if there was some meta-commentary here, since the translation is so adamant about calling the attackers Germans and them fighting for Britain and France.

But the work I'm using was published in 1885, so it was less a direct commentary on the bloodshed of the early to mid-20th century and more demonstrating the obvious and long-standing geopolitical complexities that led to the bloodshed of the early to mid-20th century.

So this part is long and mostly inconsequential.

Basically, Guy knew they wouldn't win by fighting.

They were like ants and an ant bite to the emperor was nothing.

But if one of those ants can do a little more damage and say, take your son hostage, you take notice, which was exactly what happened.

Whether by skill or luck, Guy of Warwick captured baron after baron, and when he managed to get the emperor's son, he earned the man's attention.

And ire, the emperor rolled in from the east with five hundred knights, and Guy knew his defenses would not hold.

But they didn't need to.

Next morning, after Mass, the offending duke staggered out from the city, wearing a rough cloth and a rope round his neck, presumably a symbol of penance, begging the emperor's forgiveness and opening up the town to him.

And the emperor marched in.

Because there were so many nobles in attendance now and the emperor didn't actually like massacring his own people, it was a peaceful occupation.

The emperor convened a court and everyone, all the captured knights and barons, talked about what stand-up guys Guy, Herod, and the Duke were.

What truly did it was the son essentially saying he would never speak to his father again if the man punished the Duke.

because Guy was so awesome.

So the Duke was forgiven.

Realizing, though, that there was a major issue on the western edge of his empire, the Duke was not only pardoned, but promoted.

He married the sister of the emperor, and while yes, it was an obvious bit of control to get the rebellion to buy into the royal family and have stakes in its success, it was also the best possible outcome for accidentally killing the emperor's cousin.

And it was all thanks to Guy.

Guy realized here that he could do good in this world, even by using the more warlike gifts he had been given.

Now, when it comes to the concept of good, there is a bit of a divergence for us and the denizens of the Middle Ages.

For instance, for them, the Crusades ruled.

You go to faraway lands, kill some people, loot some cities, and not only was it morally right, but you could come back a hero.

To me, and I think a lot of the people in today's world, the Crusades, to put it extremely lightly, have not aged well.

I do not personally think they were good.

And let me just say something real quickly.

Later timings put this in around the 10th century, so before the Crusades, but it was written in the time during and after the Crusades, so they're basically Crusades in all but name.

And like I said, Guy thought they were awesome.

And when he heard the Byzantine Emperor was being invaded by the Turks, well...

This looks like a job for a 20-something British knight from the West Midlands with no personal stakes or connection to that empire or even that part of the world.

Years later, Felice opened up her door to see

him.

Sir Guy.

That awkward kid who loved her relentlessly when she was little more than a kid herself.

He had returned.

Hi, he said, and took her hand.

He was

a man now.

Towering over her, she found that,

far from the harsh dismissal when they were younger, she couldn't even speak.

Her heart fluttered.

She heard about his exploits in the Crusades.

How, even upon returning to Britain, he slew a dragon in the north for the king.

Now,

he was back.

I have been offered the hands of princesses and empresses, but, as promised, I have returned for you, Guy said, and kissed her hand.

She still could barely say a word.

Yes, yes, she would marry him.

Unless she had him for a husband, she would take no other, not for all the wealth in the world.

Guy smiled, and they went to go tell her father.

The Earl loved it.

He had known Guy was special, just like he knew Seward the Stewart was special.

He had ended up promoting the man beyond Steward, raising him to lord, giving him holdings, and he was an honorable man and a faithful servant to the end.

Guy pursed his lips and nodded.

The Earl then said he would be glad for Sir Guy to join his family.

Sir Guy and Lady Felice's wedding celebrations lasted for fifteen days.

And though he smiled to the crowds, Lady Felice could see that something was different about him.

At night, in bed, he would lay there and stare at nothing and shudder in his dreams when he could sleep.

She found him, one evening, collapsed on the stairs to their room, his body convulsing with sobs.

The servants got Sir Guy into their room, and she gave him some wine to sip.

Calmer, he explained.

He thought it would be different, coming back, getting everything he ever wanted.

He thought he could leave it over there.

Leave what?

All of it, all of

all of them.

The looks in their eyes as they died by my sword.

The spray of blood from yet another friend dying in yet another ambush.

The feeling of having to put a spear through your horse so he doesn't slowly starve after collapsing in the desert.

All of it.

I've...

I've killed so many.

I've done so much that I...

I am lost.

I've heard what you did.

You saved towns.

You stood up to an empire.

Felice had followed along from afar.

I did it for glory, for honor.

For you.

Guy met her eyes for a moment, before looking back to the floor.

Even the good things were done for selfish reasons.

I'm I'm leaving.

I can't stay here.

Guy looked at her.

She could see the pain in his eyes, but she still didn't understand.

It's not fair that he should live in wealth and luxury when all those men had died.

I

need to I need to walk barefoot for the rest of my days.

I need to live my life in penance for everything that I've done.

What I've wronged with this body, I shall pay with this body.

Guy looked back to the floor.

You're powerful, you're rich, give your money away, build churches and abbeys to pray for your soul, Felice pleaded.

But Guy said that it wasn't enough.

Not for what he had done.

It would never be enough.

He fell asleep in her arms there on the floor.

You're still leaving?

Felice asked, waking up the next morning to find Sir Guy already in his cloak.

I am, he said, and set his sword on the bed.

If she was with child, they should have their father's sword.

They will be trained in the house of the Earl.

They will be a better man than he was.

She rose and, pulling something from a nearby table, pressed her ring into his hand.

This was for him, to look at in distant lands and think of her.

He nodded, and, though it didn't fit, he put it on a necklace.

He looked at her once more and left the castle.

The Earl didn't believe he was gone.

No one did.

That he would marry the woman he pined for for years and then disappear in under a fortnight, it didn't make sense.

They sent messengers first around Britain, then abroad, but they returned with nothing.

Even Herod, Guy's faithful companion, traveled to Greece and then the Middle East, but found nothing.

Sir Guy had disappeared.

Guy arose from his prayers on the hillside and, cane in hand, walked toward the city.

He was in Alexandria, and the warm evening winds felt good.

He had been all over now, Rome, Athens, Constantinople, Jerusalem.

Now here, the more miles he put on his bare feet, and the more prayers echoed toward heaven, the more peace he felt about the evil he had done.

It was in the past.

He held out his bowl and the coins clinked from the passers-by, with with Sir Guy in the rough spun robes of a pilgrim, saying a brief blessing for each donation.

No one could hear those blessings though, because of the crying.

Guy counted up the coins and had enough for some bread and wine and looked over.

Uh hi?

The man looked back.

Oh,

didn't see the beggar there.

Guy said, yeah, that was probably hard to do on account of all the tears.

Uh, what's uh what's going on, bud?

them into their own lands and whoops, ambushed.

He and his ridiculous number of sons, like 15, were captured and thrown in the dungeons.

Well, things were going not murdery until another king allied with the Sultan, Triamor's son, was playing chess at a feast with the Sultan's son, got mad, and murdered the Sultan's son.

The Sultan demanded justice and summoned his giant for single combat.

But Triamor and his son could name a champion, and they punted the decision to Earl Jonas, who did know someone who was really good at killing and might be able to fight the giant, and was given time to find him.

Oh, and if he didn't find that person before a year and 40 days were up, all of his sons would be drawn and quartered.

That person, as you can probably guess, was the best knight in the world, Sir Guy of Wark.

Now, A couple things.

When Guy left home, I thought he had set aside his sword to ramble aimlessly across the medieval world in the name of God and seek atonement.

We probably have different definitions of doing good.

I tend to agree with Felice, use your power and influence to make life materially better and, hey, maybe even spiritually better for everyone instead of going full hermit.

But sure, I can respect Guy's decision on some level.

But that's what I thought the decision was.

Guy, though, had different ideas.

He had apparently atoned enough.

What he really needed to be now was bloody vengeance for the guy who was baited to walk his 15 kids into an ambush and who couldn't keep Guy's name out of his mouth to an enemy king whose son murdered someone over a chess game.

There are reasons for Guy to go full John Wick on a situation, but to me, this isn't one of them.

That puppy is way better motivation than a couple of lords who can't keep themselves from stepping in it.

But this was, apparently, what Guy left his wife and child for.

Still, Guy wouldn't reveal himself, but said that Sir Guy of Warwick went pilgrim and was off seeing the holy places of the world.

He, though, this random traveler knight of the same age and from the same place and who looked and sounded just like Guy of Warwick, and who was actually Guy of Warwick's cousin, would take on the giant.

Good enough, Earl Jonas clapped, and the pair entered the city.

We'll see what crafty pseudonym Guy chooses and see a callback to one of our favorite Greek murder machines, but that will, once again, be right after this.

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This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp.

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What's your name, sir knight?

The Sultan looked down at the pilgrim.

Sir Gaion,

Sir Guy replied without a hint of self-consciousness.

Sidebar, I struggle to pronounce words in my own version of English, so it's very possible the name, spelled Gion,

could be Yuan.

Guy was not reluctant at all.

I guess he did it.

He found absolution by wandering around a bit without shoes on and praying a bunch.

No judgment.

Well, a little bit of judgment.

Actually, kind of a lot of judgment because he left his wife and child at home and now he's going to do the exact thing he needed to leave them to repent about.

And this was before the actual good stuff that would come of it.

It wasn't just the 15 sons and Earl Jonas that would be released.

but King Triamor would use all of his political muscle gained from Guy beating the Sultan's giant champion to ensure not only that every single warrior from the West was released from every dungeon after being held captive during the crusades that weren't the actual crusades, but he would go one step further, ensuring the safe passage of Christians across Muslim lands.

You know, I'm not saying that a human life is worth peace in the end of a centuries-long conflict, but the giant is a warrior literally begging to fight to the death, and there are worse versions of the trolley problem.

And the only one with any hang-ups about this was Guy, when he had to stay home with his wife.

Now that he's back on the field, he's apparently itching to get back to killing.

Guy was washed and everyone marveled about how beautiful he was and how much he looked like Guy of Warwick, but his name is Guyan of Warwick, so he can't be the same guy.

King Triamor had two things, Alexander the Great's helmet and the sword Hector used in the Trojan War.

We are supposed to read those as items that were full of destiny and greatness,

and not the hat of a guy who was probably poisoned, and the sword of a man who was famously viciously owned in battle, and whose corpse was brutally desecrated afterwards.

Triamor strode out and announced his champion.

Be quiet, the Sultan said, actually in the text, probably pretty eager to see this whole thing through, since his son had died nearly a year ago.

The people rushed to the city walls as Guy, well, Guy on, walked to the jeers of the hometown crowd as he made his way to the plain before the city.

The man was massive.

No one could survive one blow from this giant, let alone the entire fight.

Amarant, the giant, was said to be so big, 12 men couldn't take him on.

The servants put up a fence around the field, all the way to the river, and the battle began.

They started by jousting.

They were on horseback, and Guy managed to survive the initial attack.

and place his own lance such that both of the weapons exploded in splinters.

Even though he felt like he had just been dropped from one of the towers in work,

he was still alive.

Both men then drew their swords.

Guy got a few good slices in

and blood streamed from Amarant's sides, but the giant was not messing around.

The sword came down hard on Guy's helmet and nearly cut through it.

Guy woke up seconds later on the ground, watching his horse, the king's horse he had borrowed, not his cool prize horse from the beginning, run from the arena.

He struggled to his feet and saw Amarat rounding the other side of the arena.

Guy was dazed, injured, and going up against a literal giant riding, probably, a similarly big horse.

He was dead.

Or he would have been, if he didn't have God.

I'll leave it up to interpretation whether God is with him.

This did evolve into something of a good cause, what with bringing peace to an entire region of the world.

That being said, it wasn't that way when Guy agreed to help.

And he was pretty committed to doing exactly not this forever when he left his wife, who, yes, was dealing with suicidal ideation after his desertion.

It is in the text.

Not many prayers end with the beheading of a horse, one hopes, but Guy's did.

He prayed for God to be with him, stepped deftly in front of the horse at the last minute, and Hector's sword did the rest of the work.

The horse head went one way, and the giant crashed and rolled with the rest of the body.

Guy had even the odds.

Before Amirant could even hope to recover, Guy was on him, slashing at his face with Hector's sword.

Sidebar, Amirant had the sword of Hercules, which, no, Hercules was not famous for his sword, he was famous for his club, but like George Costanza driving around in John Voigt's car, it was, I guess, something to brag about.

Guy wailed on Amarant's helmet until it broke.

and he caught the giant from the nosegar to the Aventail.

And while I'm certain all of you are experts in medieval armor, I am not, and I had to look that up.

And the aventail is the mail that hangs down below the armor and covers the neck.

Basically, Guy cut the giant's face up, and while the giant was still trying to rise, cut his shield in half.

Amarant kicked Guy back, who hit the ground and rolled.

But upon springing up, Guy found that Amarant was not on top of him, but panting.

40 battles, 40 battles, and I've never met anyone like you.

Who are you?

You can't be Guy on some random night.

I should know about you.

Amarant couldn't understand what was happening.

Then he looked to the river.

He turned to Guy, please, let him have a drink.

This was Egypt in the summer.

It was entirely too hot to be out here in armor at all.

Guyon wanted to win, right?

Well, he probably wanted to win the right way, and not have his opponent collapse from thirst.

Please.

His God was merciful, right?

Shouldn't Guy be merciful like his God and let the giant have a drink from the river?

We're getting some crossed wires here because while the giant is appealing to Guy, a self-professed Christian's God and his merciful nature, the poem also credits Jesus with helping Guy cut up the giant's face, which, no theologian, but it feels like the love thy enemies and turn the other cheek, Jesus, might have been against that sort of thing.

Guy, though, acknowledged that God would want him to grant mercy to his enemy.

to kill him later, but way more cool.

So Guy let Amarant go down to the river and take a drink, and took Amarant's sudden but inevitable betrayal in stride, when the giant emerged refreshed and said he would enjoy tearing Guy to pieces.

Guy was dismayed, though, when his opponent, in the fight to the death, wasn't willing to extend him the same mercy of a drink from the river.

That jerk, did he have any idea how hot Egypt was in armor?

It was like he was trying to kill Guy.

Guy, though, didn't wait for permission, and ran to the river, getting his drink, and emerging, he saw that Amarant had come after him.

In his rush to gain the advantage over the submerged Guy, the giant had gotten sloppy.

He had left himself open.

Guy, though heavy with water, ducked the blow, and, the giant's shield hand out wide, Guy cut it off at the wrist.

Amirant shrieked and staggered back, looking at horror at the bleeding stump that was his left wrist.

Guy didn't wait.

He went for the right wrist.

And Amarant's sword hand flew away as well.

Maybe mimicking the Black Knight from Monty Python, maybe thinking he could win this thing, Amirant battered Guy with the stumps.

But it was only a waiting game at this point.

The giant might have been big, but he wasn't supernatural.

Soon, he reeled from blood loss and dropped.

He didn't want to win from his opponent dying of thirst.

He didn't want to win from blood loss either.

Guy calmly untied Amirant's helmet and beheaded the giant.

It was over.

He won.

After being offered an earldom and turning it down and also bringing peace to the Middle East, Guy

rambled on.

One brutal fight and he was back to his wandering, repenting self.

Until he saw Tiri.

Tiri, his father's knight, who he thought had died in that attack years ago, was alive.

He had risen to be a noble in the empire, and had been targeted by some jealous noble, lost everything, and was weeping by a wall, looking for Guy, the only person who could win the fight against his enemies.

But none of this surprised Guy.

I mean, I guess it did.

But Tiri was alive.

But none of it surprised Guy as much as the stoat, the ermine, that emerged from his friend's mouth while while he slept, slipped into the rocks, and then crawled back in his friend's mouth before he woke.

Uh,

Guy said as Tiri woke.

Tyri interrupted him.

He just had the weirdest dream.

He went through a small hole in a rock, and there was a grand cavern with a Legend of Zelda magical sword stuck in a rock, and you were there, but you weren't Guy's cousin from Warwick, even though I don't remember Guy having a cousin, but you were actually Guy of Warwick.

Why is a stoke climbing in and out of your mouth while you sleep?

Guy both changed the subject and pivoted to what, in his mind, was the far more pressing issue.

What?

That's ridiculous, Tiri laughed.

Yes, it is ridiculous.

Why is it happening?

Guy demanded, but Tieri just laughed it off.

And no, we don't get any explanation.

We'll just move on.

The pair found their way into a cave where, yes, there was a sword stuck in a rock, with shafts of light coming down to illuminate it.

It had a beautiful brown carved handle and pummel, and Guy was certain it was from God because when he drew it outside in the desert, it flashed like lightning.

Definitely not because he didn't know about the concept of confirmation bias, and literally all metal swords do that when drawn in the desert.

So, here Guy goes killing again.

I talked about the last fight in detail because I wanted to give you a taste for how absolutely all of these are going to go.

There was a little wrinkle in the fight Guy had against Duke Berard, the man who was trying to get Tyri killed.

Guy couldn't seal the deal fast enough, and darkness fell.

Despite Guy's sleep well, I'll most likely kill you in the morning to the Duke being absolutely true, the Duke had other plans.

Mainly, not dying and make sure the other guy died, which, yes, are the same plans as the fight to the death, but this was sneakier.

Mainly because he had paid assassins sneak into guys,

the pilgrim's room and murder him while he slept.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, the man said.

This was the first he was hearing about him being a hitman.

No, he was just a he was just a servant.

He didn't want to kill anybody.

The Duke blinked.

It didn't want to kill.

They said they took care of the pilgrim.

We took care of him, all right.

We took care of him real nice like.

You don't got to worry about a thing, the servant said.

And the Duke said, okay,

what did they do?

We took his bed and we put it in the ocean, the servants chuckled.

The Duke winked.

Very nice.

They didn't kill him.

The water would.

I getcha.

He sleeps with the fishes.

Well, probably, the servant shrugged.

Unless he's an early riser, or he had to get up to go to the bathroom.

The Duke wasn't really following the metaphor now, but the less he knew the better.

Good work, boys.

It wasn't.

Good work, that is.

The boys were less assassins and more summer camp pranksters, taking Guy's bed and literally putting it out onto the water.

Guy was very much alive.

He was stranded at sea on his bed, which isn't great, but also isn't dead.

You have to remember, too, that it's not like the sea was some unknown, untraveled place.

They were right outside a city.

Guy woke up when a fisherman bumped into his bed.

Anyway, Guy still made it to the fight, but was so full of presumably righteous, holy wrath, that he literally cut the Duke in half, from the top of his head to the place where the body naturally splits when you do the splits.

It wasn't pretty, but everyone was glad because that guy was a jerk.

Quick takeaway, live your life in such a way that when a random guy cuts you in half, people don't celebrate in the streets.

The emperor clapped that Tiri was avenged.

Tiri wept and held Guy when, just as he was about to leave, Guy told him the truth.

They both thought one another was dead after the ambush, but Guy was glad to see that Tiri had landed on his feet.

And Tiri was glad to see that Guy was, I guess, living the life he wanted to, repenting of all that killing by doing more killing.

Before they parted, Guy told Tiri to look after his son.

He would have to be a boy now, but he would be a knight soon, despite him surviving to adulthood being a literal 50-50 chance in the medieval world.

It was time.

Time to go home.

Britain called to him.

Landing in Britain, Guy learned the news.

They were under attack, the Danes.

An army 15,000 strong was heading south, and the Anglo-Saxon king Athelston had called all of his barons and nobles to Winchester to devise a plan of attack.

Worse, the Danes had a giant from a faraway land.

Guy cocked his head.

Foreign giant, you say?

While gathering news about that tempting giant that was just asking to be slain, Sybar he was challenging everyone, so he was actually asking to be slain, Guy also gathered news about his old allies.

Herod had gone abroad in search of Guy, and Earl Rohan, his father-in-law, had died.

His wife, Felice, was now countess.

But an advancing army is an existential threat, so Guy made for Winchester.

If only Sir Guy of Warwick were here, King Ethelston pounded his fist on the table.

The proceedings weren't open to the public, officially, but they could hardly keep the people out or keep the barons in the room, since there were so many.

The king breathed, no, Guy was gone.

But maybe there would be another.

He told his barons to put out the word, half of his kingdom, to the man who could fight Colbron the giant and save a portion of his kingdom from the Danes.

Guy, though, was feeling it.

He was feeling his age now.

He was no longer that young man.

Decades of war and fighting and rambling had taken a toll, and though over the past few years he had killed two giants, giants, he was wary.

This was his home.

Felice and his son lived in Britain.

If he wasn't supposed to fight Colbrand, it would cost them everything.

So he sat by the wall of Winchester, knowing that if he was supposed to fight, God would give him a sign.

And when the King of England comes out of the city and bows down to a pilgrim beggar, that's a sign.

He apparently had a dream that the pilgrim outside would save them all and keep England free forever.

Everyone had their doubts that this random pilgrim beggar, who looked a lot like Guy of Warwick, could save them, but when he was outfitted with a steel hauberk, golden gem-studded helmet, a war horse, and a shield with baby Jesus on it, yes really, he looked every bit the knight that could save them all.

Guy said his prayers and rode out onto the field.

The kings had just finished their oaths.

The king of Denmark agreed to leave forever if he was defeated, and Æthelsten agreed to hand over England to the Danes if this random pilgrim that looked like Guy of Warwick lost.

Then Colbron lumbered out onto the field.

He was massive.

No horse could even hold him.

He wore black splint armor, carried an axe, spear, and a type of polearm, and is described as foul and loathsome.

Okay, so we've done this twice, and this is a long episode, so I'm just going to cut to the chase.

Or cut to the battle where Colbron cut Guy's horse in half hot dog style, and Guy rolled onto the ground.

He cut Guy's shield in half, hacked his armor to pieces, stripped him of all his weapons, and begged Guy to yield.

He could make peace with the king of the Danes and live.

But Guy refused.

Offering no explanation, he tightened what was left of his armor and said the tenth century Old English equivalent of, I can do this all day.

He couldn't, and he was about to die, but props to him for sticking it out.

Colbron laughed, as Guy charged him with just his fists, but stopped laughing when he lost Guy.

Guy had, apparently, slipped in between his legs and was running behind him.

He was going for Colbron's weapons.

Colbron was a giant, but the guys looking after his weapons were very susceptible to a Spartan kick to the chest.

One of them was, the other was susceptible to the thought of a Spartan kick and left the weapons unguarded.

Guy picked up one of the large axes just as Colbron charged, and the next instant, Colbron's right arm was on the ground.

This made the giant angry, but he was still going to continue fighting.

He just needed to pry his sword from his own grip with his left hand.

But Guy was not going to wait for that to happen.

While Colbron knelt, Guy cut off his head.

The battle was over.

England was saved from conquerors forever.

Or at least 130 years until William the Conqueror showed up.

Guy didn't stay for the parades, but simply asked for his pilgrim cloak and continued on, telling the king himself his identity, but extracting only a promise from the king to keep it secret until the year was out.

The king agreed, and the mysterious knight disappeared.

A few days later, he arrived at the castle and took his seat among the beggars, and, a few days after that, he laid eyes on the countess, Felice.

He learned that every week she invited the men by the gate into the palace itself, into the great hall, where she served them with a feast.

I hear it's for the soul of that husband of hers, the one who left her, the man next to Guy murmured, and Guy...

felt the ring on the chain under his shirt.

When Felice came to him, she looked on him warmly with a smile, but there was no recognition.

Guy dipped his head and took the food.

There was so much he wanted to say to her, but he couldn't.

After the meal, he left, going out to the forest, to a hermit he knew was out there, or had been.

In the years since, the man had died and been buried, but his simple home had remained as it was.

So Guy took up residence there.

Connecting with the local priest, Guy began his confessions.

He knew knew his time was limited, mainly because God had told him, but also mainly because he fought three giants well into his retirement years.

An angel delivered confirmation of these feelings.

Eight days.

In eight days, Guy would die.

So, for some reason, Guy waited seven and a half days before he called his page boy, who apparently worked for the priest but was on loan to Guy because whatever details and pressed the ring into his hand, telling him to go to Warwick and give the ring to the Countess when she emerged from the castle to feed the poor.

As the page's footsteps retreated, Guy settled in on his palate bed.

Felice wept.

Guy was dead on his palate, dying mere moments after she entered the hermitage.

After all these years of anxiety and heartbreak, she was able to say goodbye, but that was really it.

Yeah, okay, real quickly, sorry to take us out of this moment, but there is no moment.

Look, I'm not saying if an angel gives you eight days to get your affairs in order, and you're within walking distance of your estranged wife and the son you've never met, and you can resolve things, but you choose to wait until you're literally dying to call her so that she walks in as your soul, quote, is leaving your body.

I'm not saying that it's a choice so that you can only say goodbye and not address anything that you've done or any baggage that you've had, but it it feels like a choice.

And you know, I'm definitely reading too much into this, but maybe Guy felt like Felice's insistence that he become the greatest warrior turned him into a monster.

Okay.

Resolve that.

You know, his faith, when not about stabbing guys, was about forgiveness.

Work it out.

Anyway, whether she was so distraught that Guy was gone, or because she had been holding on to the pain for so long that letting go undid her, Felice didn't leave his side and died 15 days later.

Guy's final wish, according to the priest, was that he be buried on that spot and never removed.

And he was.

Until he was removed when Tiri contacted the king and requested that Guy's body be moved to Lorraine in northeast France, where Thiri built an abbey.

And the story tells us that people sing for Guy's soul until doomsday.

Or sometime between the 10th century and now, because I can't seem to find any evidence of this abbey's existence.

The end.

So that was a long one.

I, to be real, loved this story to start.

Guy's growth as a warrior and his regret and trauma leading him on a journey to redemption and his complicated feelings about Felice where he loved her but blamed her.

Yes.

That journey of redemption involving all the traumatic stuff he said he regretted?

Fun, but it took some of the wind out of my sails.

And also, I know I joked a lot about Guy's...

seemingly contradictory attitude when it came to killing, having so much regret and remorse for what he did that he leaves Felice and his child, essentially never to return and reconcile, but then brutally killing three prominent giants in what the story itself calls vengeance.

My only reading of this is that guy is a pilgrim, but he's not a pacifist.

He doesn't seek worldly glory for killing those people and likely saw himself as acting in God's righteous anger and vengeance.

I would call it a slippery slope, but when you're killing people in what you decree to be God's vengeance, that's I mean in my opinion, you're already at the bottom of the slope.

This is, of course, one version of the legend.

Maybe I missed the dun cow, but that might have entered it at a different place in time.

As far as I can tell, this is sort of like the canonical version of the legend.

Anyway, I posted the versions I used in the show notes.

Next time, we're hopping across the channel for some French fairy tales.

And you'll see why you should never kick a toad.

And not just because it's a mean thing to do, but because it's actually an evil demon and it will be way more trouble than it's worth.

The creature this time is the Freibug from Britain.

Very early on, we talked about the stories of the black dog, giant black hellhounds that have some connection with the devil.

Black Shuck is one of those.

It's not hard to imagine how this got started.

Think about walking home from the pub in a time without streetlights.

Maybe you're having a good time with friends.

Maybe you're alone and just want to to get home and what was that sound?

In that context, I can completely understand how you'd see anything and think it was a giant evil spectral hound trying to kill you.

The freybug is that hound.

It tries to kill you, maybe?

It never actually attacked anyone and being a dog the size of a calf, people just ran terrified and screaming away from it.

It relates to a larger tradition of the bargest or bargest.

And though the freybug comes from Norfolk and the Barghest from York and wider Yorkshire, they're very similar.

And it's possible Barghist comes from the German meaning town ghost.

Because while the Freybug attacked people or

made them think they would be attacked on the road, the Barghist attacked them in the city, namely York, where it lurked just off the shambles.

There's a ballad about a man who was going to summon and confront the Barghist, but only one of those went the way he planned, the summoning bit.

because his lifeless body was found with, quote, inhuman marks on the chest.

Unlike the Freybug, the Bargust is bad news.

If you find a giant black dog following you, trailed by a bunch of other dogs howling mournfully, they're heralding your death.

Sorry.

If you or anyone try to get in its way, the wounds it leaves will never heal.

For takeaways for this one, when you're being followed by a dog funeral procession, led by a big one with glowing red eyes, something has already gone very wrong in your life.

I'm sorry.

When it comes to the fray bug, though, just try to get home early because while I'm not saying it's not an evil spectral dog, the last sighting of this calf-sized dog was 1555 and it didn't even attack anyone, so I kind of think they just saw a calf, freaked out, and ran home.

That's it for this time.

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.

Sucks!

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