Promises to keep

The woods are lovely, dark and deep

But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep

Robert Frost: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

The woods are lovely

The scene in the Fog Lake was one of a knight cantering along a path in a sunlit forest, with his companion dog running beside the horse. Little Plump Jo, the current Artisan in Residence in Malory Tennyson’s Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies, assumed that this must be one of Malory’s exercises in writing a description of landscape, as there did not seem to any plot worthy action happening.

“Ask yourself the questions” barked Intellectual Dabrowski, one of Jo’s five canine writing companions, the Dabrowski Dogs, who enabled communication between Jo and Malory Tennyson and the Arthurian characters. “What is the setting of this scene?”

“A forest.”

“Be more specific. What type of forest is it? Is it ancient old growth or newly planted? How densely planted is it? Describe the colours of the foliage and the flowers and fungi on the forest floor. What species of trees are they?”

“OK, smarty pants, that is your department. How do I know what sort of trees they are? My guess is poplars and aspens because Malory Tennyson talks about

poplars with their noise of falling showers, And ever-tremulous aspen-trees

under his penname of Alfred, Lord Tennyson. But I am no expert on English trees. Maybe you could research them for me.”

“What time of day is it?”

“It looks like afternoon.”

“Yes, you are correct. You can tell that it is afternoon by the angle and direction of the shadows. Do you notice the strobing effects of the light through the trees?”

“What is the mood of the scene? Will this scene have any impact on the plot?”

“It just looks like a quiet afternoon ride through a sunlit forest to me. I am guessing that it is one of Malory Tennyson’s observe and describe exercises!”

“But who is the knight?”

“I don’t know. Just some random knight.”

“Would it change your thinking if I told you that the knight is…”

“It’s Sir Lancelot!” burst out Psycho Motor Dabrowski, another of Jo’s dogs. “I know because the dog with him is his companion dog, Heureux.”

“Well, yes, that does change things” said Jo “because I cannot imagine Malory asking Sir Lancelot to go and ride in the forest, just for a description exercise, without it being part of a plotline.”

The Fog Lake mist swirled down and then rose again to reveal a sunlit open meadow with a hedgerow on the right side, just as Malory Tennyson arrived on the porch of Cloudbank Cabin overlooking the Fog Lake.

“He should be there by now, asleep by that hedgerow” Malory said, starting to pace up and down the porch. “Call Sir Bors. He was supposed to set it up.”

A few minutes later, Charles the Armorer stepped onto the porch. “Sir Bors went out again, after he returned from accompanying Sir Lancelot.”

“Were they late setting off, Charles?”

“No Sir, but Sir Bors did say there were a lot of boulders from The Glitch event in the Fog Lake and some of the paths were impassable. And before they left, Heureux was anxious because Sir Lancelot had not taken his herbals. Sir Bors said that was part of the Fog Lake script for today. He was not supposed to take his herbals, so that he would need to sleep by the hedgerow and be sufficiently out of it that four Witch Queens would be able to load him into a litter and carry him off. But I must say, begging your pardon Sir, that if even your dog knows that you should take your herbals, then you really should do it.”

“Very well, Charles.” Malory resumed his pacing. “I wonder where he is.”

“We saw him riding through a forest just a few minutes ago. I don’t know where it was but Intellectual thought it was similar to the Gustave Dore 1868 illustration Lancelot approaches the Castle at Astolat “ said Little Plump Jo.

The four Witch Queens had now arrived and were arguing about whether this was the right meadow and whether this was the right day. After about half an hour they decided it must be the wrong day and exited stage left.

The white, wispy Fog Lake mist swirled down.

dark and deep

The mist became denser and when it lifted Sir Lancelot could once again be seen riding in the forest. However, it was obviously much later in the day. Night was approaching and the forest animals were changing shift. The trees were closer together, their branches tangling with those of their neighbours.

“The full moon arose all white and shining … with silver silent light … so that here it was all bright and there it was all agloom with shadow … black and umbrageous foliage… an enchantment of stillness, from Sir Lancelot and his companions by Howard Pyle” quoted Intellectual Dabrowski.

“Why does he just keep on riding further into the forest?” asked Little Plump Jo. “Surely he can see he is not going to the meadow.”

“He probably thinks that if he keeps going he will eventually come to the path that leads to the meadow” replied Malory. “He is tenacious!”

The night time gloom descended on the scene like a curtain.

promises to keep

Characters from the Arthurian legends started to come up from the Fog Lake to see Malory Tennyson in Cloudbank Cabin with grievances.

“I came to Camelot to get Sir Lancelot du Lac to rescue my sister from the Red Knight of the Red Lands. But he was not there so they fobbed me off with Beaumains, the kitchen boy!”

“Do not be concerned, my good woman, Beaumains is Sir Gawain’s younger brother and will later be known as Sir Gareth. He will be perfectly capable of saving your sister. So ignore the cooking fat smells and be polite to him, if you can manage it!” replied Malory, knowing full well that the script called for the lady to be very rude to Beaumains on their adventure.

The next complainant was not so easily mollified. “I expect better treatment than this! I am a princess, the daughter of King Bagdemagus! I came to Camelot to bring Sir Lancelot du Lac details of the Trial by Combat he had promised to fight, to settle a land dispute for my father. The Trial will be in three days’ time. I was told by one Sir Bors de Ganis that he had been taken by Morgan Le Fey, and that I must release him from her dungeon. He would then be available to act as champion for my father. He even hinted that I could perhaps score a kiss from him if I played my cards right! But when I arrived Sir Lancelot was not there.”

“Well, that is a tad awkward,” conceded Malory Tennyson. “We will promise to try to promise that Sir Lancelot du Lac will be back here by the time of the Trial by Combat.”

“I’ll go and bring him back!” volunteered the gallant, Psycho Motor Dabrowski.

“Thank you, Psycho! God speed!”

“Really? This tale is going to the dogs!” huffed King Bagdemagus’ daughter.

And miles to go before I sleep

Psycho Motor Dabrowski returned from the Fog Lake a few hours later. “I caught up with them. Heureux is absolutely beside himself with worry. Sir Lancelot refuses to stop. He keeps saying he has promises to keep. Heureux tells him to stop and rest. He says he has miles to go yet to get back to the meadow. Then he will be able to sleep. Heureux tells him to take his herbals but he says he must not take them before he sleeps in the meadow. The longer he keeps going, the less grip on reality he has. He does not realise that the path will not eventually take him to the meadow and refuses to turn back. He is beginning to sway in the saddle. Heureux did not want to leave him to come for help.

“Very well then, Plan B” said Malory Tennyson. “Go and tell Heureux to force Sir Lancelot’s horse into a swamp. We will send Dagonet the Jester to pull him out and lead him back here. Dagonet can make a joke of it and claim that he single handedly conquered the great Sir Lancelot. Everyone will laugh. Face will be saved. And we can have him recovered and ready for the Trial by Combat as promised. A fine authentic Arthurian tale solution.”

“The early 13th century Prose Lancelot” barked Intellectual Dabrowski smugly.

“Quite!” agreed Malory Tennyson.