Howel, King of Brittany, turned out to have a problem. This one earl, Grip, had been making trouble for him: refusing taxes, assaulting officers, laying siege to Howel’s house, that kind of thing. As you may recall from Book V, … Continue reading →
No, they didn’t. A week or so later, Tristram got into a whole new set of troubles. He was out in the woods practicing his venery, when, tired, he decided to lie down and take a nap next to a … Continue reading →
Sir Andred, Tristram’s cousin, resented Tristram for being so awesome. Or maybe he had been keeping track of all the times Tristram had been a jerk. Either way, he took it upon himself to spy on Tristram and the lovely … Continue reading →
Once the partying and the charm offensive had died down, everyone pretty much assumed that Sir Tristram and the lovely Isoud would be wed. Certainly that’s what the lovely Isoud, Queen Isoud and King Anguish all expected. But Tristram kept … Continue reading →
Mark couldn’t sleep at night, he was so consumed by thoughts of revenge. But how? How could he make Tristram suffer? Then one day he had it! He called Tristram to him. “Nephew,” he said. “You’ve been telling everyone about … Continue reading →
Tristram returned at long last to Cornwall. His relatives, King Meliodas and King Mark and Queen Hestia, threw a tremendously big party in celebration of his accomplishments. Meliodas and Hestia gave Tristram the bulk of his inheritance, just because Malory … Continue reading →
A month went by. Tristram just lay there in bed. His wound had become infected: Marhaus’s spear was poisoned with some nasty Irish poison. It wasn’t looking good four our boy. Mark sent out the call for a doctor or … Continue reading →
Meanwhile, King Mark of Cornwall decided to stop paying taxes to his liege lord, King Anguish of Ireland. Seven years passed with no consequences before Anguish decided to take action. He sent his brother-in-law, Sir Marhaus of the Round Table, … Continue reading →
But in medieval times, one couldn’t be a king and not have a wife, apparently. After seven years, an impossibly long mourning period by the standard of the day, Meliodas reluctantly married a princess from Brittany — the daughter of … Continue reading →
Books VIII, IX, and X of Le Morte D’Arthur form mostly a single narrative, which sounds way, way better than it is, because what it is is a meandering narrative that has no point and very little dramatic arc. So … Continue reading →
